On the Trinity — Book VIII

We have said elsewhere that in the Trinity, things are predicated specially as belonging to each person when they are predicated relatively to one another, such as Father and Son, and the gift of both, the Holy Spirit. The Father is not the Trinity, nor is the Son the Trinity, nor is the gift the Trinity. But whenever each is spoken of individually in respect to themselves, they are not spoken of as three in the plural number, but as one, the Trinity itself. Thus the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God; the Father is good, the Son is good, and the Holy Spirit is good; the Father is omnipotent, the Son is omnipotent, and the Holy Spirit is omnipotent. Yet there are not three Gods, nor three goods, nor three omnipotents, but one God, good, omnipotent, the Trinity itself. The same applies to whatever else is said of them not relatively in respect to each other, but individually in respect to themselves. They are thus spoken of according to ousia, since in them to be is the same as to be great, to be good, to be wise, and whatever else is said of each person individually, or of the Trinity itself, in respect to themselves. Therefore they are called three persons or three substances, not to indicate any difference of ousia, but so that we may be able to answer with some one word if anyone asks what three, or what three things. There is such great equality in that Trinity that not only is the Father not greater than the Son as regards divinity, but neither are the Father and Son together greater than the Holy Spirit, nor is any individual person, whichever of the three it may be, less than the Trinity itself. This is what we have said. If it is handled and repeated frequently, it no doubt becomes more familiarly known. Yet some limit must also be put to the discussion, and we must supplicate God with most devout piety that He will open our understanding and take away the inclination to dispute, so that our minds may discern the essence of the truth, which has neither bulk nor changeability. Now, therefore, insofar as the Creator Himself aids us in His marvelous mercy, let us consider these subjects, into which we will enter more deeply than we entered into those which preceded, although they are in truth the same, while preserving this rule: that what has not yet been made clear to our intellect nevertheless not be loosened from the firmness of our faith.

We have said elsewhere that those things are predicated specially in the Trinity as belonging severally to each person, which are predicated relatively the one to the other, as Father and Son, and the gift of both, the Holy Spirit; for the Father is not the Trinity, nor the Son the Trinity, nor the gift the Trinity: but what whenever each is singly spoken of in respect to themselves, then they are not spoken of as three in the plural number, but one, the Trinity itself, as the Father God, the Son God, and the Holy Spirit God; the Father good, the Son good, and the Holy Spirit good; and the Father omnipotent, the Son omnipotent, and the Holy Spirit omnipotent: yet neither three Gods, nor three goods, nor three omnipotents, but one God, good, omnipotent, the Trinity itself; and whatsoever else is said of them not relatively in respect to each other, but individually in respect to themselves. For they are thus spoken of according to essence, since in them to be is the same as to be great, as to be good, as to be wise, and whatever else is said of each person individually therein, or of the Trinity itself, in respect to themselves. And that therefore they are called three persons, or three substances, not in order that any difference of essence may be understood, but that we may be able to answer by some one word, should any one ask what three, or what three things? And that there is so great an equality in that Trinity, that not only the Father is not greater than the Son, as regards divinity, but neither are the Father and Son together greater than the Holy Spirit; nor is each individual person, whichever it be of the three, less than the Trinity itself. This is what we have said; and if it is handled and repeated frequently, it becomes, no doubt, more familiarly known: yet some limit, too, must be put to the discussion, and we must supplicate God with most devout piety, that He will open our understanding, and take away the inclination of disputing, in order that our minds may discern the essence of the truth, that has neither bulk nor moveableness. Now, therefore, so far as the Creator Himself aids us in His marvellous mercy, let us consider these subjects, into which we will enter more deeply than we entered into those which preceded, although they are in truth the same; preserving the while this rule, that what has not yet been made clear to our intellect, be nevertheless not loosened from the firmness of our faith.

For we say that in this Trinity, two or three persons are not anything greater than one of them. Fleshly perception cannot accept this, for this reason alone: it perceives created things as well as it can, but it cannot discern the Truth itself by which they are created. If it could, then even physical light would be no clearer than what we have just stated. For regarding the substance of truth, since it alone truly exists, nothing is greater unless it exists more truly. But regarding whatever is intelligible and unchangeable, no one thing exists more truly than another, since all alike are unchangeably eternal. And what is called great in this realm is great from no other source than that by which it truly exists. Therefore, where magnitude itself is truth, whatever has more magnitude must necessarily have more truth. Whatever therefore does not have more truth does not have more magnitude either. Furthermore, whatever has more truth is certainly more true, just as whatever has more magnitude is greater. Therefore, regarding the substance of truth, what is more true is more great. But the Father and the Son together are not more truly than the Father alone or the Son alone. Both together, therefore, are not anything greater than each of them singly. And since the Holy Spirit equally exists truly, the Father and Son together are not anything greater than He, since they are not more truly. The Father and the Holy Spirit together, since they do not surpass the Son in truth (for they do not exist more truly), do not surpass Him in magnitude either. And so the Son and the Holy Spirit together are just as great as the Father alone, since they exist just as truly. So also the Trinity itself is as great as each individual person within it. For where truth itself is magnitude, what is not more true is not more great. Since in regard to the ousia of truth, to be true is the same as to be, and to be is the same as to be great, therefore to be great is the same as to be true. And in regard to it, therefore, what is equally true must necessarily also be equally great.

2. For we say that in this Trinity two or three persons are not anything greater than one of them; which carnal perception does not receive, for no other reason except because it perceives as it can the true things which are created, but cannot discern the truth itself by which they are created; for if it could, then the very corporeal light would in no way be more clear than this which we have said. For in respect to the substance of truth, since it alone truly is, nothing is greater, unless because it more truly is. But in respect to whatsoever is intelligible and unchangeable, no one thing is more truly than another, since all alike are unchangeably eternal; and that which therein is called great, is not great from any other source than from that by which it truly is. Wherefore, where magnitude itself is truth, whatsoever has more of magnitude must needs have more of truth; whatsoever therefore has not more of truth, has not also more of magnitude. Further, whatsoever has more of truth is certainly more true, just as that is greater which has more of magnitude; therefore in respect to the substance of truth that is more great which is more true. But the Father and the Son together are not more truly than the Father singly, or the Son singly. Both together, therefore, are not anything greater than each of them singly. And since also the Holy Spirit equally is truly, the Father and Son together are not anything greater than He, since neither are they more truly. The Father also and the Holy Spirit together, since they do not surpass the Son in truth (for they are not more truly), do not surpass Him either in magnitude. And so the Son and the Holy Spirit together are just as great as the Father alone, since they are as truly. So also the Trinity itself is as great as each several person therein. For where truth itself is magnitude, that is not more great which is not more true: since in regard to the essence of truth, to be true is the same as to be, and to be is the same as to be great; therefore to be great is the same as to be true. And in regard to it, therefore, what is equally true must needs also be equally great.

When it comes to physical bodies, two pieces of gold might both be equally true (real), but one may be larger than the other, because size is not the same thing as truth (reality). Being gold is one thing, being large is another. The same applies to the nature of the soul. A soul is not called great in the same sense that it is called true (real). Someone who does not have a great soul still has a true (real) soul, because the essence of body and soul is not the same as the essence of truth (reality) itself, which is the Trinity—one God, alone great, true, truthful, the truth. When we try to think about Him, to the extent that He Himself allows and enables us, we must not imagine any physical touching or embrace in physical space, as if we were thinking of three bodies, or any kind of solid joining together, like the myths tell of the three-bodied Geryon. Whatever comes to mind that would be greater in three than in one, and less in one than in two, should be rejected without hesitation, for in this way everything physical is rejected. But also among spiritual things, let nothing changeable that may come to mind be thought of as God. For when we reach upward from this low place to that height, it is an important step toward knowledge if, before we can know what God is, we can already know what He is not. For certainly He is not earth or heaven, nor something like earth and heaven, nor anything like what we see in heaven, nor anything like what we do not see but might exist in heaven. Even if you were to imagine in your thoughts the light of the sun magnified as much as you are able—whether by making it larger or brighter, a thousand times or countless times—this is not God. Nor is God like the pure angels, whom we think of as spirits that animate heavenly bodies and change and govern them according to the will by which they serve God. Even if all the angels—and there are thousands upon thousands—were brought together into one and became one, such a thing is still not God. Nor should you think of those same spirits as existing without bodies, though this is extremely difficult for physical-minded thought to do. Look and see, if you can, O soul weighed down by the corruptible body and burdened by earthly thoughts that are many and varied—look and see, if you can, that God is truth (reality). For it is written that God is light, not in the way these eyes see, but in the way the heart sees when it is said, "He is truth (reality)." Do not ask what truth (reality) is, for immediately the darkness of physical images and the clouds of fantasies will block your way and will disturb that calmness which at the first moment shone forth to you when I said "truth (reality)." Try to remain, if you can, in that first moment when you are dazzled, as if by a flash, when the word "Truth (Reality)" is spoken to you. But you cannot. You will slip back into those familiar and earthly things. And what weight is it, I ask, that causes you to slip back this way, if not the sticky residue of the stains of desire you have accumulated, and the errors from your wandering away from the right path?

3. But in respect to bodies, it may be the case that this gold and that gold may be equally true [real], but this may be greater than that, since magnitude is not the same thing in this case as truth; and it is one thing for it to be gold, another to be great. So also in the nature of the soul; a soul is not called great in the same respect in which it is called true. For he, too, has a true [real] soul who has not a great soul; since the essence of body and soul is not the essence of the truth [reality] itself; as is the Trinity, one God, alone, great, true, truthful, the truth. Of whom if we endeavor to think, so far as He Himself permits and grants, let us not think of any touch or embrace in local space, as if of three bodies, or of any compactness of conjunction, as fables tell of three-bodied Geryon; but let whatsoever may occur to the mind, that is of such sort as to be greater in three than in each singly, and less in one than in two, be rejected without any doubt; for so everything corporeal is rejected. But also in spiritual things let nothing changeable that may have occurred to the mind be thought of God. For when we aspire from this depth to that height, it is a step towards no small knowledge, if, before we can know what God is, we can already know what He is not. For certainly He is neither earth nor heaven; nor, as it were, earth and heaven; nor any such thing as we see in the heaven; nor any such thing as we do not see, but which perhaps is in heaven. Neither if you were to magnify in the imagination of your thought the light of the sun as much as you are able, either that it may be greater, or that it may be brighter, a thousand times as much, or times without number; neither is this God. Neither as we think of the pure angels as spirits animating celestial bodies, and changing and dealing with them after the will by which they serve God; not even if all, and there are thousands of thousands, were brought together into one, and became one; neither is any such thing God. Neither if you were to think of the same spirits as without bodies — a thing indeed most difficult for carnal thought to do. Behold and see, if you can, O soul pressed down by the corruptible body, and weighed down by earthly thoughts, many and various; behold and see, if you can, that God is truth. For it is written that God is light; not in such way as these eyes see, but in such way as the heart sees, when it is said, He is truth [reality]. Ask not what is truth [reality] for immediately the darkness of corporeal images and the clouds of phantasms will put themselves in the way, and will disturb that calm which at the first twinkling shone forth to you, when I said truth [reality]. See that you remain, if you can, in that first twinkling with which you are dazzled, as it were, by a flash, when it is said to you, Truth [Reality]. But you can not; you will glide back into those usual and earthly things. And what weight, pray, is it that will cause you so to glide back, unless it be the bird-lime of the stains of appetite you have contracted, and the errors of your wandering from the right path?

Look again and see if you understand this. You certainly don't love anything except what is good. Good is the earth, with its high mountains, properly measured hills, and level plains. Good is a pleasant and fertile estate. Good is a house that has proper proportions and is spacious and bright. Good are living bodies with souls. Good is air that is mild and healthy. Good is food that is pleasant and nutritious. Good is health, without pain or exhaustion. Good is a person's face that has fitting proportions, a cheerful expression, and bright color. Good is a friend's mind, with the sweetness of harmony and the confidence of love. Good is a righteous man. Good are riches, since they are easily useful. Good is the heaven, with its sun, moon, and stars. Good are the angels, through their holy obedience. Good is speech that teaches sweetly and appropriately instructs the listener. Good is a poem that is harmonious in its rhythm and weighty in its meaning. Why add more and more examples? This thing is good and that thing is good, but set aside this and that, and consider good itself if you can—then you will see God, who is not good by some good other than himself, but the good of every good thing. For among all these good things, whether those I have mentioned or any others that can be observed or conceived, we could not say that one is better than another when we judge correctly, unless an understanding of the good itself had been imprinted on us, so that according to it we might both recognize things as good and prefer one good to another. This is how God must be loved—not this or that good, but the good itself. For the good that must be sought for the soul is not one that the soul judges and rises above, but one to which it clings through love. And what can this be except God? Not a good mind, or a good angel, or the good heaven, but the good good. Perhaps what I want to say can be understood more easily this way. For instance, when a mind is called good, there are two words, and from these words I understand two things—one by which it is a mind, and another by which it is good. The mind had no part in making itself a mind, for there was nothing yet to make itself be anything. But to make itself a good mind, I see, must come about through the will. Not because that by which it is a mind is not itself something good—for why else would it already be called, and most truly called, better than the body?—but it is not yet called a good mind because the action of the will is still needed to make it more excellent. If it has neglected this, it is justly blamed and rightly called not a good mind. For it then differs from the mind that does perform this action, and since the latter is praiseworthy, the former, which does not perform it, is surely blameworthy. But when it does this deliberately and becomes a good mind, it still cannot achieve this unless it turns itself toward something that it itself is not. And to what can it turn itself to become a good mind, except to the good which it loves, seeks, and obtains? And if it turns itself back away from this and becomes not good, then by the very act of turning away from the good, unless that good remains in it from which it turns away, it cannot turn itself back there again if it should wish to correct itself.

4. Behold again, and see if you can. You certainly do not love anything except what is good, since good is the earth, with the loftiness of its mountains, and the due measure of its hills, and the level surface of its plains; and good is an estate that is pleasant and fertile; and good is a house that is arranged in due proportions, and is spacious and bright; and good are animal and animate bodies; and good is air that is temperate, and salubrious; and good is food that is agreeable and fit for health; and good is health, without pains or lassitude; and good is the countenance of man that is disposed in fit proportions, and is cheerful in look, and bright in color; and good is the mind of a friend, with the sweetness of agreement, and with the confidence of love; and good is a righteous man; and good are riches, since they are readily useful; and good is the heaven, with its sun, and moon, and stars; and good are the angels, by their holy obedience; and good is discourse that sweetly teaches and suitably admonishes the hearer; and good is a poem that is harmonious in its numbers and weighty in its sense. And why add yet more and more? This thing is good and that good, but take away this and that, and regard good itself if you can, so will you see God, not good by a good that is other than Himself, but the good of all good. For in all these good things, whether those which I have mentioned, or any else that are to be discerned or thought, we could not say that one was better than another, when we judge truly, unless a conception of the good itself had been impressed upon us, such that according to it we might both approve some things as good, and prefer one good to another. So God is to be loved, not this and that good, but the good itself. For the good that must be sought for the soul is not one above which it is to fly by judging, but to which it is to cleave by loving; and what can this be except God? Not a good mind, or a good angel, or the good heaven, but the good good. For perhaps what I wish to say may be more easily perceived in this way. For when, for instance, a mind is called good, as there are two words, so from these words I understand two things — one whereby it is mind, and another whereby it is good. And itself had no share in making itself a mind, for there was nothing as yet to make itself to be anything; but to make itself to be a good mind, I see, must be brought about by the will: not because that by which it is mind is not itself anything good — for how else is it already called, and most truly called, better than the body?– but it is not yet called a good mind, for this reason, that the action of the will still is wanted, by which it is to become more excellent; and if it has neglected this, then it is justly blamed, and is rightly called not a good mind. For it then differs from the mind which does perform this; and since the latter is praiseworthy, the former doubtless, which does not perform, it is blameable. But when it does this of set purpose, and becomes a good mind, it yet cannot attain to being so unless it turn itself to something which itself is not. And to what can it turn itself that it may become a good mind, except to the good which it loves, and seeks, and obtains? And if it turns itself back again from this, and becomes not good, then by the very act of turning away from the good, unless that good remain in it from which it turns away, it cannot again turn itself back there if it should wish to amend.

Therefore, there would be no changeable goods unless there were the unchangeable good. When someone tells you about this or that good thing—things that in other ways can also be called not good—if you can set aside those things that are good by participating in the good, and perceive that good itself by participation in which they are good (for when this or that good thing is mentioned, you also understand the good itself along with them): if, I say, you can remove these things and perceive the good in itself, then you will have perceived God. And if you hold fast to him with love, you will immediately be blessed. But since other things are loved only because they are good, be ashamed that in holding fast to them, you do not love the good itself from which they are good. Even the mind, which is a mind simply because it is a mind—though it is not yet also good by turning itself to the unchangeable good, but, as I said, is only a mind—whenever it pleases us so much that we prefer it, if we understand rightly, even to all bodily light, it does not please us in itself, but in that skill by which it was made. For it is approved as made in that by which it is seen to have been meant to be made. This is truth, and simple good: for it is nothing else than the good itself, and for this reason also the chief good. For no good can be diminished or increased, except that which is good from some other good. Therefore the mind turns itself, in order to be good, to that by which it comes to be a mind. The will is then in harmony with nature, so that the mind may be perfected in good, when that good is loved by the turning of the will toward it—the good from which that other good also comes that is not lost by the will's turning away from it. For by turning itself from the chief good, the mind loses being a good mind, but it does not lose being a mind. And this too is already a good, and one better than the body. The will, therefore, loses what the will obtains. For the mind already existed, so it could wish to be turned to that from which it came, but that did not yet exist which could wish to be before it existed. And in this is our supreme good, when we see whether the thing ought to be or to have been—concerning which we comprehend that it ought to be or to have been—and when we see that the thing could not have been unless it ought to have been, though we also do not comprehend in what manner it ought to have been. This good, then, is not far from every one of us: for in it we live, and move, and have our being.

5. Wherefore there would be no changeable goods, unless there were the unchangeable good. Whenever then you are told of this good thing and that good thing, which things can also in other respects be called not good, if you can put aside those things which are good by the participation of the good, and discern that good itself by the participation of which they are good (for when this or that good thing is spoken of, you understand together with them the good itself also): if, then, I say you can remove these things, and can discern the good in itself, then you will have discerned God. And if you shall cleave to Him with love, you shall be immediately blessed. But whereas other things are not loved, except because they are good, be ashamed, in cleaving to them, not to love the good itself whence they are good. That also, which is a mind, only because it is a mind, while it is not yet also good by the turning itself to the unchangeable good, but, as I said, is only a mind; whenever it so pleases us, as that we prefer it even, if we understand aright, to all corporeal light, does not please us in itself, but in that skill by which it was made. For it is thence approved as made, wherein it is seen to have been to be made. This is truth, and simple good: for it is nothing else than the good itself, and for this reason also the chief good. For no good can be diminished or increased, except that which is good from some other good. Therefore the mind turns itself, in order to be good, to that by which it comes to be a mind. Therefore the will is then in harmony with nature, so that the mind may be perfected in good, when that good is loved by the turning of the will to it, whence that other good also comes which is not lost by the turning away of the will from it. For by turning itself from the chief good, the mind loses the being a good mind; but it does not lose the being a mind. And this, too, is a good already, and one better than the body. The will, therefore, loses that which the will obtains. For the mind already was, that could wish to be turned to that from which it was: but that as yet was not, that could wish to be before it was. And herein is our [supreme] good, when we see whether the thing ought to be or to have been, respecting which we comprehend that it ought to be or to have been, and when we see that the thing could not have been unless it ought to have been, of which we also do not comprehend in what manner it ought to have been. This good then is not far from every one of us: for in it we live, and move, and have our being.

We must hold firmly to God through love and cling to Him, so that we may enjoy the presence of the One by whom we exist—without whom we could not exist at all. Since we still walk by faith and not by sight, we certainly do not yet see God face to face, as the same apostle says. Yet we will never see Him unless we already love Him now. But who loves what he does not know? It is possible to know something and not love it, but I ask whether it is possible to love what is not known. If it is not possible, then no one loves God before knowing Him. And what does it mean to know God except to behold Him and steadfastly perceive Him with the mind? For He is not a body to be searched out by physical eyes. But even before we have the ability to behold and perceive God—as He can be beheld and perceived, which is granted to the pure in heart (for blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God)—unless He is loved by faith, it will not be possible for the heart to be cleansed so that it may be fit and ready to see Him. For where do those three things exist—the building up of which in the mind is the purpose of all the divine Scriptures, namely Faith, Hope, and Charity—except in a mind that believes what it does not yet see, and hopes for and loves what it believes? Therefore even He who is not known, but is believed, can be loved. But we must certainly take care that the mind believing what it does not see does not imagine something that is not real, and hope for and love what is false. For in that case, it would not be charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned, which is the goal of the commandment, as the same apostle says.

6. But it is by love that we must stand firm to this and cleave to this, in order that we may enjoy the presence of that by which we are, and in the absence of which we could not be at all. For as we walk as yet by faith, and not by sight, we certainly do not yet see God, as the same [apostle] says, face to face: whom however we shall never see, unless now already we love. But who loves what he does not know? For it is possible something may be known and not loved: but I ask whether it is possible that what is not known can be loved; since if it cannot, then no one loves God before he knows Him. And what is it to know God except to behold Him and steadfastly perceive Him with the mind? For He is not a body to be searched out by carnal eyes. But before also that we have power to behold and to perceive God, as He can be beheld and perceived, which is permitted to the pure in heart; for blessed are the pure in heart. for they shall see God; except He is loved by faith, it will not be possible for the heart to be cleansed, in order that it may be apt and meet to see Him. For where are there those three, in order to build up which in the mind the whole apparatus of the divine Scriptures has been raised up, namely Faith, Hope, and Charity, except in a mind believing what it does not yet see, and hoping and loving what it believes? Even He therefore who is not known, but yet is believed, can be loved. But indisputably we must take care, lest the mind believing that which it does not see, feign to itself something which is not, and hope for and love that which is false. For in that case, it will not be charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned, which is the end of the commandment, as the same apostle says.

When we believe in physical things through reading or hearing about them that we have not seen ourselves, our mind necessarily creates mental images with bodily shapes and forms, as they happen to occur in our thoughts. These images are either not true, or even if they happen to be true—which occurs very rarely—believing in them through faith does us no good. They are useful for some other purpose that is conveyed through them. For who reads or hears what the Apostle Paul wrote, or what was written about him, without picturing in his mind the face of the apostle himself and of all those whose names are mentioned there? Yet among such a large number of people who know these books, each person imagines those bodily features and forms differently, so it is certainly impossible to know which person imagines them more accurately and closer to reality. Our faith is not concerned with the physical appearance of those men, but only with this: that by the grace of God they lived and acted as Scripture testifies. This is what is both useful to believe and must not be despaired of and must be sought. Even the physical face of our Lord Himself is imagined variously by countless different imaginations, yet it was one face, whatever it was. What is spiritually healthy in our faith concerning our Lord Jesus Christ is not what the mind imagines for itself—perhaps very different from reality—but what we think about man according to his kind. For we have a concept of human nature implanted in us, like a rule, by which we know immediately that whatever such thing we see is a man or the form of a man.

7. But it must needs be, that, when by reading or hearing of them we believe in any corporeal things which we have not seen, the mind frames for itself something under bodily features and forms, just as it may occur to our thoughts; which either is not true, or even if it be true, which can most rarely happen, yet this is of no benefit to us to believe in by faith, but it is useful for some other purpose, which is intimated by means of it. For who is there that reads or hears what the Apostle Paul has written, or what has been written of him, that does not imagine to himself the countenance both of the apostle himself, and of all those whose names are there mentioned? And whereas, among such a multitude of men to whom these books are known, each imagines in a different way those bodily features and forms, it is assuredly uncertain which it is that imagines them more nearly and more like the reality. Nor, indeed, is our faith busied therein with the bodily countenance of those men; but only that by the grace of God they so lived and so acted as that Scripture witnesses: this it is which it is both useful to believe, and which must not be despaired of, and must be sought. For even the countenance of our Lord Himself in the flesh is variously fancied by the diversity of countless imaginations, which yet was one, whatever it was. Nor in our faith which we have of our Lord Jesus Christ, is that wholesome which the mind imagines for itself, perhaps far other than the reality, but that which we think of man according to his kind: for we have a notion of human nature implanted in us, as it were by rule, according to which we know immediately, that whatever such thing we see is a man or the form of a man.

We form our understanding according to this idea when we believe that God became man for our sake, as an example of humility and to demonstrate God's love toward us. This is what is good for us to believe and to hold firmly and unshakably in our hearts: that the humility by which God was born of a woman and was led to death through such great insults by mortal men is the greatest remedy by which the swelling of our pride may be healed, and the profound mystery by which the bond of sin may be broken. Likewise, because we know what omnipotence is, we believe in the omnipotent God through the power of His miracles and of His resurrection, and we form mental images regarding such actions according to the categories and types of things that are either implanted in us by nature or gathered through experience, so that our faith may not be false. For we do not know the face of the Virgin Mary, from whom He was miraculously born without contact with a husband and without her being corrupted in the birth itself. We have not seen what the features of Lazarus's body were, nor have we seen Bethany, nor the tomb and that stone which He commanded to be removed when He raised him from the dead, nor the new tomb cut out of the rock from which He Himself arose, nor the Mount of Olives from which He ascended into heaven. In short, those of us who have not seen these things do not know whether they are as we imagine them to be—indeed, we should probably judge that they are not so. For when the appearance of either a place, a person, or any other body that we imagined before we saw it turns out to be the same when it comes before our sight as it was when it came to our mind, we are struck with considerable wonder. This happens so rarely and almost never. And yet we believe those things most firmly because we imagine them according to a specific and general concept of which we are certain. For we believe our Lord Jesus Christ to be born of a virgin who was called Mary. But what a virgin is, what it is to be born, and what a proper name is—these things we do not merely believe but certainly know. Whether the face of Mary that came to mind when speaking about these things or remembering them was actually her face, we neither know nor believe. In this case, then, it is acceptable to say without violating the faith, perhaps she had such and such a face, perhaps she did not. But no one could say without violating the Christian faith that perhaps Christ was born of a virgin.

Our conception is framed according to this notion, when we believe that God was made man for us, as an example of humility, and to show the love of God towards us. For this it is which it is good for us to believe, and to retain firmly and unshakenly in our heart, that the humility by which God was born of a woman, and was led to death through contumelies so great by mortal men, is the chiefest remedy by which the swelling of our pride may be cured, and the profound mystery by which the bond of sin may be loosed. So also, because we know what omnipotence is, we believe concerning the omnipotent God in the power of His miracles and of His resurrection, and we frame conceptions respecting actions of this kind, according to the species and genera of things that are either ingrafted in us by nature, or gathered by experience, that our faith may not be feigned. For neither do we know the countenance of the Virgin Mary; from whom, untouched by a husband, nor tainted in the birth itself, He was wonderfully born. Neither have we seen what were the lineaments of the body of Lazarus; nor yet Bethany; nor the sepulchre, and that stone which He commanded to be removed when He raised Him from the dead; nor the new tomb cut out in the rock, whence He Himself arose; nor the Mount of Olives, from whence He ascended into heaven. And, in short, whoever of us have not seen these things, know not whether they are as we conceive them to be, nay judge them more probably not to be so. For when the aspect either of a place, or a man, or of any other body, which we happened to imagine before we saw it, turns out to be the same when it occurs to our sight as it was when it occurred to our mind, we are moved with no little wonder. So scarcely and hardly ever does it happen. And yet we believe those things most steadfastly, because we imagine them according to a special and general notion, of which we are certain. For we believe our Lord Jesus Christ to be born of a virgin who was called Mary. But what a virgin is, or what it is to be born, and what is a proper name, we do not believe, but certainly know. And whether that was the countenance of Mary which occurred to the mind in speaking of those things or recollecting them, we neither know at all, nor believe. It is allowable, then, in this case to say without violation of the faith, perhaps she had such or such a countenance, perhaps she had not: but no one could say without violation of the Christian faith, that perhaps Christ was born of a virgin.

Therefore, since we want to understand the eternity, equality, and unity of the Trinity as much as we are allowed, but must believe before we understand, and since we must be careful that our faith is not false—because we must enjoy this same Trinity in order to live blessedly, but if we have believed something false about it, our hope would be worthless and our love would not be pure—how can we love by believing in a Trinity that we do not know? Is it according to a particular or general idea, like the way we love the Apostle Paul? In his case, even if he did not have the appearance that comes to our minds when we think of him (and we do not know this at all), we still know what a human being is. For without going far away from ourselves, this is what we are, and it is clear that he too was this, and that his soul joined to his body lived in the manner of mortals. Therefore we believe this about him based on what we find in ourselves, according to the form or category that includes all human nature alike. What then do we know, either specifically or generally, about that most excellent Trinity, as if there were many such trinities, some of which we had learned through experience, so that we might believe that Trinity too is like them, through the rule of similarity impressing upon us either a particular or general idea, and thus also love that thing which we believe but do not yet know, based on the likeness of what we do know? But this is certainly not the case. Or is it that, just as we love in our Lord Jesus Christ that he rose from the dead, even though we have never seen anyone rise from death, so we can believe in and love the Trinity which we do not see and the like of which we have never seen? But we certainly know what it is to die and what it is to live, because we both live and have from time to time seen and experienced both dead and dying people. And what else is rising again except living again, that is, returning to life from death? When, therefore, we say and believe that there is a Trinity, we know what a trinity is, because we know what three things are. But this is not what we love. For we can easily have this whenever we want (to pass over other things) by just holding up three fingers. Or do we indeed love, not every trinity, but the Trinity, that is, God? We love then in the Trinity that it is God. But we have never seen or known any other God, because God is one—he alone whom we have not yet seen, and whom we love by believing. But the question is, from what likeness or comparison of known things can we believe, in order that we may love God, whom we do not yet know?

8. Wherefore, since we desire to understand the eternity, and equality, and unity of the Trinity, as much as is permitted us, but ought to believe before we understand; and since we must watch carefully, that our faith be not feigned; since we must have the fruition of the same Trinity, that we may live blessedly; but if we have believed anything false of it, our hope would be worthless, and our charity not pure: how then can we love, by believing, that Trinity which we do not know? Is it according to the special or general notion, according to which we love the Apostle Paul? In whose case, even if he was not of that countenance which occurs to us when we think of him (and this we do not know at all), yet we know what a man is. For not to go far away, this we are; and it is manifest he, too, was this, and that his soul joined to his body lived after the manner of mortals. Therefore we believe this of him, which we find in ourselves, according to the species or genus under which all human nature alike is comprised. What then do we know, whether specially or generally, of that most excellent Trinity, as if there were many such trinities, some of which we had learned by experience, so that we may believe that Trinity, too, to have been such as they, through the rule of similitude, impressed upon us, whether a special or a general notion; and thus love also that thing which we believe and do not yet know, from the parity of the thing which we do know? But this certainly is not so. Or is it that, as we love in our Lord Jesus Christ, that He rose from the dead, although we never saw any one rise from thence, so we can believe in and love the Trinity which we do not see, and the like of which we never have seen? But we certainly know what it is to die, and what it is to live; because we both live, and from time to time have seen and experienced both dead and dying persons. And what else is it to rise again, except to live again, that is, to return to life from death? When, therefore, we say and believe that there is a Trinity, we know what a Trinity is, because we know what three are; but this is not what we love. For we can easily have this whenever we will, to pass over other things, by just holding up three fingers. Or do we indeed love, not every trinity, but the Trinity, that is God? We love then in the Trinity, that it is God: but we never saw or knew any other God, because God is One; He alone whom we have not yet seen, and whom we love by believing. But the question is, from what likeness or comparison of known things can we believe, in order that we may love God, whom we do not yet know?

Come back with me and let us examine why we love the apostle. Do we love him because of his human nature, which we understand well since we believe he was a man? Certainly not, because if that were the case, we would not love him now, since he is no longer that man—his soul has separated from his body. What we love in him is what we believe still lives, namely his righteous mind. By what general or specific standard do we know this, except that we know both what a mind is and what it means to be righteous? We can appropriately say that we know what a mind is because we also have a mind. We have never seen it with our eyes or formed a general or specific concept from observing multiple minds. Rather, as I said before, we know it because we ourselves have one. What is known so intimately and perceives itself to be itself as that by which all other things are perceived—the mind itself? We also recognize the movements of bodies by which we perceive that others live besides ourselves, through resemblance to ourselves, since we move our own body in living just as we observe those bodies to be moved. When a living body moves, our eyes cannot see the mind, which cannot be seen by eyes. But we perceive that something is contained in that body, similar to what is contained in ourselves that moves our own body—the life and soul. This is not uniquely human foresight and reason, since even animals perceive that not only they themselves live but also other animals reciprocally, and that we ourselves live. They do not see our souls except through bodily movements, and they do this immediately and easily by some natural agreement. Therefore we both know anyone's mind from our own and believe from our own concerning someone we do not know. For we not only perceive that there is a mind, but we can also know what a mind is by reflecting on our own, since we have a mind. But how do we know what a righteous man is? We said above that we love the apostle for no other reason than that he is a righteous mind. We know what a righteous man is just as we know what a mind is. What a mind is, as has been said, we know from ourselves because there is a mind in us. But how do we know what a righteous man is if we are not righteous? If only a righteous person knows what a righteous man is, then only a righteous person loves a righteous man. For one cannot love someone whom one believes to be righteous precisely because one believes him to be righteous, if one does not know what it means to be righteous—according to what we showed above, that no one loves what he believes but does not see except by some general or specific standard. If only a righteous person loves a righteous person, how will anyone who is not yet righteous wish to become righteous? For no one wishes to be what he does not love. But certainly, for someone who is not righteous to become so, he must wish to be righteous. In order to wish to be righteous, he loves the righteous man. Therefore, even someone who is not yet righteous loves the righteous man. But he cannot love the righteous man if he does not know what a righteous man is. Accordingly, even someone who is not yet righteous knows what a righteous man is. How does he know this? Does he see it with his eyes? Is anything righteous corporeal, like white or black or square or round? Who could say this? Yet with one's eyes one sees nothing except corporeal things. But nothing in a man is righteous except the mind. When a man is called righteous, he is called so from the mind, not from the body. For righteousness is a kind of beauty of the mind by which people are beautiful—many who are misshapen and deformed in body. As the mind is not seen with the eyes, neither is its beauty. From where then does someone who is not yet righteous know what a righteous man is and love the righteous man so that he may become righteous? Do certain signs shine forth through bodily movement by which this or that person is shown to be righteous? But how does anyone know that these are signs of a righteous mind when he is completely ignorant of what it means to be righteous? Therefore he does know. But how do we know what it means to be righteous, even when we are not yet righteous? If we know from outside ourselves, we know it through something bodily. But this is not a bodily thing. Therefore we know within ourselves what it means to be righteous. For I find this nowhere else when I seek to express it except within myself. If I ask another what it means to be righteous, he seeks within himself what to answer. Whoever can answer truly from there has found within himself what to answer. When I wish to speak of Carthage, I seek within myself what to say, and I find within myself a concept or image of Carthage. But I received this through the body—that is, through bodily perception—since I was present in that city in the body, saw and perceived it, and retained it in my memory so that I might find within myself a word concerning it whenever I might wish to speak of it. For its word is the image itself of it in my memory, not the sound of two syllables when Carthage is named, or even when that name itself is thought silently from time to time, but what I discern in my mind when I utter those two syllables with my voice, or even before I utter them. Similarly, when I wish to speak of Alexandria, which I have never seen, an image of it is present with me. Because I had heard from many people and had believed that city to be great, described to me as it could be told, I formed an image of it in my mind as I was able. This is its word with me when I wish to speak of it, before I utter with my voice the five syllables that make the name almost everyone knows. Yet if I could bring forth that image from my mind to the eyes of people who know Alexandria, certainly all would either say it is not it, or if they said it is, I would greatly wonder. As I gazed at it in my mind—that is, at the image which was like its picture—I still would not know it to be it, but would believe those who retained an image they had seen. But I do not ask what it means to be righteous in this way, nor do I find it this way, nor do I gaze upon it this way when I express it. Neither am I approved when I am heard in this way, nor do I approve when I hear in this way—as though I have seen such a thing with my eyes or learned it through some bodily perception or heard it from those who had learned it that way. For when I say, and say knowingly, that a mind is righteous which knowingly and deliberately assigns to everyone his due in life and conduct, I do not think of anything absent like Carthage or imagine it as I am able like Alexandria, whether it is so or not. Rather, I discern something present, and I discern it within myself, though I myself am not that which I discern. Many who hear will approve it. Whoever hears me and knowingly approves also discerns this same thing within himself, even though he himself is not what he discerns. But when a righteous man says this, he discerns and says what he himself is. How does he discern it except within himself? But this is not surprising, for where should he discern himself except within himself? The remarkable thing is that the mind should see within itself what it has seen nowhere else, and should see truly, and should see the very true righteous mind, and should itself be a mind, yet not a righteous mind, which nevertheless it sees within itself. Is there another mind that is righteous in a mind that is not yet righteous? Or if there is not, what does it see there when it sees and says what a righteous mind is, seeing it nowhere else but in itself, when it itself is not a righteous mind? Is what it sees an inner truth present to the mind that has the power to behold it? Yet not all have that power, and those who have the power to behold it are not all also what they behold—that is, they are not also righteous minds themselves, even though they are able to see and to say what a righteous mind is. How will they be able to become so except by clinging to that very form itself which they behold, so that from there they may be formed and may be righteous minds? They will not only discern and say that the mind is righteous which knowingly and deliberately assigns to everyone what is his due in life and conduct, but likewise they themselves may live righteously and be righteous in character by assigning to everyone what is his due, so as to owe no one anything but to love one another. How can anyone cling to that form except by loving it? Why then do we love another whom we believe to be righteous and not love that form itself in which we see what a righteous mind is, so that we also may be able to be righteous? Is it that unless we loved that also, we would not love at all the person whom we love through it? But while we are not righteous, we love that form too little to be able to be righteous. Therefore, the person who is believed

9. Return then with me, and let us consider why we love the apostle. Is it at all on account of his human kind, which we know right well, in that we believe him to have been a man? Assuredly not; for if it were so, he now is not him whom we love, since he is no longer that man, for his soul is separated from his body. But we believe that which we love in him to be still living, for we love his righteous mind. From what general or special rule then, except that we know both what a mind is, and what it is to be righteous? And we say, indeed, not unfitly, that we therefore know what a mind is, because we too have a mind. For neither did we ever see it with our eyes, and gather a special or general notion from the resemblance of more minds than one, which we had seen; but rather, as I have said before, because we too have it. For what is known so intimately, and so perceives itself to be itself, as that by which also all other things are perceived, that is, the mind itself? For we recognize the movements of bodies also, by which we perceive that others live besides ourselves, from the resemblance of ourselves; since we also so move our body in living as we observe those bodies to be moved. For even when a living body is moved, there is no way opened to our eyes to see the mind, a thing which cannot be seen by the eyes; but we perceive something to be contained in that bulk, such as is contained in ourselves, so as to move in like manner our own bulk, which is the life and the soul. Neither is this, as it were, the property of human foresight and reason, since brute animals also perceive that not only they themselves live, but also other brute animals interchangeably, and the one the other, and that we ourselves do so. Neither do they see our souls, save from the movements of the body, and that immediately and most easily by some natural agreement. Therefore we both know the mind of any one from our own, and believe also from our own of him whom we do not know. For not only do we perceive that there is a mind, but we can also know what a mind is, by reflecting upon our own: for we have a mind. But whence do we know what a righteous man is? For we said above that we love the apostle for no other reason except that he is a righteous mind. We know, then, what a righteous man also is, just as we know what a mind is. But what a mind is, as has been said, we know from ourselves, for there is a mind in us. But whence do we know what a righteous man is, if we are not righteous? But if no one but he who is righteous knows what is a righteous man, no one but a righteous man loves a righteous man; for one cannot love him whom one believes to be righteous, for this very reason that one does believe him to be righteous, if one does not know what it is to be righteous; according to that which we have shown above, that no one loves what he believes and does not see, except by some rule of a general or special notion. And if for this reason no one but a righteous man loves a righteous man, how will any one wish to be a righteous man who is not yet so? For no one wishes to be that which he does not love. But, certainly, that he who is not righteous may be so, it is necessary that he should wish to be righteous; and in order that he may wish to be righteous, he loves the righteous man. Therefore, even he who is not yet righteous, loves the righteous man. But he cannot love the righteous man, who is ignorant what a righteous man is. Accordingly, even he who is not yet righteous, knows what a righteous man is. Whence then does he know this? Does he see it with his eyes? Is any corporeal thing righteous, as it is white, or black, or square, or round? Who could say this? Yet with one's eyes one has seen nothing except corporeal things. But there is nothing righteous in a man except the mind; and when a man is called a righteous man, he is called so from the mind, not from the body. For righteousness is in some sort the beauty of the mind, by which men are beautiful; very many too who are misshapen and deformed in body. And as the mind is not seen with the eyes, so neither is its beauty. From whence then does he who is not yet righteous know what a righteous man is, and love the righteous man that he may become righteous? Do certain signs shine forth by the motion of the body, by which this or that man is manifested to be righteous? But whence does any one know that these are the signs of a righteous mind when he is wholly ignorant what it is to be righteous? Therefore he does know. But whence do we know what it is to be righteous, even when we are not yet righteous? If we know from without ourselves, we know it by some bodily thing. But this is not a thing of the body. Therefore we know in ourselves what it is to be righteous. For I find this nowhere else when I seek to utter it, except within myself; and if I ask another what it is to be righteous, he seeks within himself what to answer; and whosoever hence can answer truly, he has found within himself what to answer. And when indeed I wish to speak of Carthage, I seek within myself what to speak, and I find within myself a notion or image of Carthage; but I have received this through the body, that is, through the perception of the body, since I have been present in that city in the body, and I saw and perceived it, and retained it in my memory, that I might find within myself a word concerning it, whenever I might wish to speak of it. For its word is the image itself of it in my memory, not that sound of two syllables when Carthage is named, or even when that name itself is thought of silently from time to time, but that which I discern in my mind, when I utter that dissyllable with my voice, or even before I utter it. So also, when I wish to speak of Alexandria, which I never saw, an image of it is present with me. For whereas I had heard from many and had believed that city to be great, in such way as it could be told me, I formed an image of it in my mind as I was able; and this is with me its word when I wish to speak of it, before I utter with my voice the five syllables which make the name that almost every one knows. And yet if I could bring forth that image from my mind to the eyes of men who know Alexandria, certainly all either would say, It is not it; or if they said, It is, I should greatly wonder; and as I gazed at it in my mind, that is, at the image which was as it were its picture, I should yet not know it to be it, but should believe those who retained an image they had seen. But I do not so ask what it is to be righteous, nor do I so find it, nor do I so gaze upon it, when I utter it; neither am I so approved when I am heard, nor do I so approve when I hear; as though I have seen such a thing with my eyes, or learned it by some perception of the body, or heard it from those who had so learned it. For when I say, and say knowingly, that mind is righteous which knowingly and of purpose assigns to every one his due in life and behavior, I do not think of anything absent, as Carthage, or imagine it as I am able, as Alexandria, whether it be so or not; but I discern something present, and I discern it within myself, though I myself am not that which I discern; and many if they hear will approve it. And whoever hears me and knowingly approves, he too discerns this same thing within himself, even though he himself be not what he discerns. But when a righteous man says this, he discerns and says that which he himself is. And whence also does he discern it, except within himself? But this is not to be wondered at; for whence should he discern himself except within himself? The wonderful thing is, that the mind should see within itself that which it has seen nowhere else, and should see truly, and should see the very true righteous mind, and should itself be a mind, and yet not a righteous mind, which nevertheless it sees within itself. Is there another mind that is righteous in a mind that is not yet righteous? Or if there is not, what does it there see when it sees and says what is a righteous mind, nor sees it anywhere else but in itself, when itself is not a righteous mind? Is that which it sees an inner truth present to the mind which has power to behold it? Yet all have not that power; and they who have power to behold it, are not all also that which they behold, that is, they are not also righteous minds themselves, just as they are able to see and to say what is a righteous mind. And whence will they be able to be so, except by cleaving to that very same form itself which they behold, so that from thence they may be formed and may be righteous minds; not only discerning and saying that the mind is righteous which knowingly and of purpose assigns to every one that which is his due in life and behavior, but so likewise that they themselves may live righteously and be righteous in character, by assigning to every one that which is his due, so as to owe no man anything, but to love one another. And whence can any one cleave to that form but by loving it? Why then do we love another whom we believe to be righteous, and do not love that form itself wherein we see what is a righteous mind, that we also may be able to be righteous? Is it that unless we loved that also, we should not love him at all, whom through it we love; but while we are not righteous, we love that form too little to allow of our being able to be righteous? The man therefore who is believed to be righteous, is loved through that form and truth which he who loves discerns and understands within himself; but that very form and truth itself cannot be loved from any other source than itself. For we do not find any other such thing besides itself, so that by believing we might love it when it is unknown, in that we here already know another such thing. For whatsoever of such a kind one may have seen, is itself; and there is not any other such thing, since itself alone is such as itself is. He therefore who loves men, ought to love them either because they are righteous, or that they may become righteous. For so also he ought to love himself, either because he is righteous, or that he may become righteous; for in this way he loves his neighbor as himself without any risk. For he who loves himself otherwise, loves himself wrongfully, since he loves himself to this end that he may be unrighteous; therefore to this end that he may be wicked; and hence it follows next that he does not love himself; for, He who loves iniquity, hates his own soul.

In this inquiry into the Trinity and knowing God, nothing is more important to consider than what true love is—or rather, what love itself is. Only genuine love should be called love; otherwise it is merely desire. So people who desire are said to love incorrectly, just as people who love are said to desire incorrectly. True love is this: clinging to the truth so we may live righteously, and so we may value all mortal things less than our love for people, through which we desire them to live righteously. This way we should be ready even to die for our brothers and sisters for their benefit, as our Lord Jesus Christ taught us by his example. There are two commandments on which all the Law and the prophets depend: love of God and love of neighbor. Not without reason does Scripture usually put one in place of both. Sometimes it mentions only God's love, as in this passage: "For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God"; and again, "But if any man love God, the same is known of Him"; and, "Because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us"; and many other passages. The person who loves God must necessarily do what God has commanded, and loves him in proportion to how well he obeys; therefore he must necessarily also love his neighbor, because God has commanded it. Sometimes Scripture mentions only love of neighbor, as in: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ"; and again, "For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, You shall love your neighbor as yourself"; and in the Gospel, "All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this is the Law and the prophets." Many other passages in sacred writings seem to command only love of neighbor for perfection while passing over love of God in silence, even though the Law and the prophets hang on both commandments. But this is because whoever loves his neighbor must necessarily also love, above all else, love itself. But God is love; and he that dwells in love dwells in God. Therefore he must necessarily love God above all else.

10. No other thing, then, is chiefly to be regarded in this inquiry, which we make concerning the Trinity and concerning knowing God, except what is true love, nay, rather what is love. For that is to be called love which is true, otherwise it is desire; and so those who desire are said improperly to love, just as they who love are said improperly to desire. But this is true love, that cleaving to the truth we may live righteously, and so may despise all mortal things in comparison with the love of men, whereby we wish them to live righteously. For so we should be prepared also to die profitably for our brethren, as our Lord Jesus Christ taught us by His example. For as there are two commandments on which hang all the Law and the prophets, love of God and love of our neighbor; not without cause the Scripture mostly puts one for both: whether it be of God only, as is that text, For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God; and again, But if any man love God, the same is known of Him; and that, Because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us; and many other passages; because he who loves God must both needs do what God has commanded, and loves Him just in such proportion as he does so; therefore he must needs also love his neighbor, because God has commanded it: or whether it be that Scripture only mentions the love of our neighbor, as in that text, Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ; and again, For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, You shall love your neighbor as yourself; and in the Gospel, All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them; for this is the Law and the prophets. And many other passages occur in the sacred writings, in which only the love of our neighbor seems to be commanded for perfection, while the love of God is passed over in silence; whereas the Law and the prophets hang on both precepts. But this, too, is because he who loves his neighbor must needs also love above all else love itself. But God is love; and he that dwells in love, dwells in God. Therefore he must needs above all else love God.

Therefore, those who seek God through the Powers that rule over the world or parts of it are removed and cast far away from Him. This separation is not measured by physical distance, but by a difference in their affections and desires. They try to find a path outwardly and abandon their own inner being, where God actually dwells. So even if they may have heard about some holy heavenly Power or somehow thought about it, they still covet the miraculous deeds that amaze human weakness rather than imitating the piety that leads to divine rest. Through pride, they prefer to be able to do what an angel does rather than, through devotion, to be what an angel is. No holy being rejoices in his own power, but in the power of Him from whom he receives whatever power he can rightly have. Such a being knows that it is a greater mark of power to be united to the Omnipotent through a devout will than to be able, by one's own power and will, to do things that terrify those who cannot do them. Therefore, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, while doing such miraculous things, wanted to teach better things to those who marveled at them and to turn those who were focused on and uncertain about unusual temporal matters toward eternal and inner realities. He says, Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. He does not say, Learn of me because I raise those who have been dead four days, but instead says, Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart. For humility, which is most solid, is more powerful and safer than pride, which is utterly inflated. And so He continues, And you shall find rest unto your souls, for Love is not puffed up, and God is Love. Those who are faithful in love shall rest in Him, called back from the noise of the outer world to silent joys. Look, God is Love. Why do we go out and run to the heights of heaven and the depths of the earth, seeking Him who is within us, if we want to be with Him?

11. Wherefore they who seek God through those Powers which rule over the world, or parts of the world, are removed and cast away far from Him; not by intervals of space, but by difference of affections: for they endeavor to find a path outwardly, and forsake their own inward things, within which is God. Therefore, even although they may either have heard some holy heavenly Power, or in some way or another may have thought of it, yet they rather covet its deeds at which human weakness marvels, but do not imitate the piety by which divine rest is acquired. For they prefer, through pride, to be able to do that which an angel does, more than, through devotion, to be that which an angel is. For no holy being rejoices in his own power, but in His from whom he has the power which he fitly can have; and he knows it to be more a mark of power to be united to the Omnipotent by a pious will, than to be able, by his own power and will, to do what they may tremble at who are not able to do such things. Therefore the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, in doing such things, in order that He might teach better things to those who marvelled at them, and might turn those who were intent and in doubt about unusual temporal things to eternal and inner things, says, Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. And He does not say, Learn of me, because I raise those who have been dead four days; but He says, Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart. For humility, which is most solid, is more powerful and safer than pride, that is most inflated. And so He goes on to say, And you shall find rest unto your souls, for Love is not puffed up; and God is Love; and such as be faithful in love shall rest in Him, called back from the din which is without to silent joys. Behold, God is Love: why do we go forth and run to the heights of the heavens and the lowest parts of the earth, seeking Him who is within us, if we wish to be with Him?

Let no one say, I don't know what I love. Let him love his brother, and he will love the same love. For he knows the love with which he loves better than the brother whom he loves. So now he can know God better than he knows his brother: clearly known better, because more present; known better, because more within him; known better, because more certain. Embrace the love of God, and by love embrace God. That is love itself, which binds together all good angels and all the servants of God by the bond of holiness, and joins together us and them mutually with ourselves, and joins us under Him. Therefore, to the extent that we are healed from the swelling of pride, to that extent we are more filled with love; and what is he full of who is full of love, except God? Well, but you will say, I see love, and as far as I am able, I look upon it with my mind, and I believe the Scripture saying that God is love, and he that dwells in love dwells in God; but when I see love, I do not see the Trinity in it. No, but you do see the Trinity if you see love. But if I can, I will remind you, so that you may see that you see it; only let love itself be present, that we may be moved by love to something good. Since when we love love, we love one who loves something, and that precisely because he does love something; therefore what does love love, that love itself also may be loved? For that is not love which loves nothing. But if it loves itself, it must love something, so that it may love itself as love. For as a word indicates something and also indicates itself, but does not indicate itself to be a word unless it indicates that it does indicate something; so love also loves itself, but unless it loves itself as loving something, it does not love itself as love. What therefore does love love, except that which we love with love? But this, to begin from what is nearest to us, is our brother. And listen how greatly the Apostle John commends brotherly love: He that loves his brother abides in the light, and there is no occasion of stumbling in him. It is clear that he placed the perfection of righteousness in the love of our brother; for he certainly is perfect in whom there is no occasion of stumbling. And yet he seems to have passed over the love of God in silence; which he never would have done, unless he intended God to be understood in brotherly love itself. For in this same epistle, a little further on, he says most plainly: Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and everyone that loves is born of God and knows God. He that loves not knows not God, for God is love. And this passage declares sufficiently and plainly that this same brotherly love itself (for that is brotherly love by which we love each other) is set forth by so great authority not only to be from God, but also to be God. When therefore we love our brother from love, we love our brother from God; nor can it be that we do not love above all else that same love by which we love our brother. From this it may be gathered that these two commandments cannot exist unless together. For since God is love, he who loves love certainly loves God; but he must love love who loves his brother. And so a little after he says, For he that loves not his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen? because the reason that he does not see God is that he does not love his brother. For he who does not love his brother does not abide in love; and he who does not abide in love does not abide in God, because God is love. Further, he who does not abide in God does not abide in light; for God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. He therefore who does not abide in light, what wonder is it if he does not see light, that is, does not see God, because he is in darkness? But he sees his brother with human sight, with which God cannot be seen. But if he loved with spiritual love him whom he sees with human sight, he would see God, who is love itself, with the inner sight by which He can be seen. Therefore he who does not love his brother whom he sees, how can he love God, whom for that reason he does not see, because God is love, which he does not have who does not love his brother? Neither let that further question trouble us, how much of love we ought to spend upon our brother and how much upon God: incomparably more upon God than upon ourselves, but upon our brother as much as upon ourselves; and we love ourselves so much the more, the more we love God. Therefore we love God and our neighbor from one and the same love; but we love God for the sake of God, and ourselves and our neighbors for the sake of God.

12. Let no one say, I do not know what I love. Let him love his brother, and he will love the same love. For he knows the love with which he loves, more than the brother whom he loves. So now he can know God more than he knows his brother: clearly known more, because more present; known more, because more within him; known more, because more certain. Embrace the love of God, and by love embrace God. That is love itself, which associates together all good angels and all the servants of God by the bond of sanctity, and joins together us and them mutually with ourselves, and joins us subordinately to Himself. In proportion, therefore, as we are healed from the swelling of pride, in such proportion are we more filled with love; and with what is he full, who is full of love, except with God? Well, but you will say, I see love, and, as far as I am able, I gaze upon it with my mind, and I believe the Scripture, saying, that God is love; and he that dwells in love, dwells in God; but when I see love, I do not see in it the Trinity. Nay, but you see the Trinity if you see love. But if I can I will put you in mind, that you may see that you see it; only let itself be present, that we may be moved by love to something good. Since, when we love love, we love one who loves something, and that on account of this very thing, that he does love something; therefore what does love love, that love itself also may be loved? For that is not love which loves nothing. But if it loves itself it must love something, that it may love itself as love. For as a word indicates something, and indicates also itself, but does not indicate itself to be a word, unless it indicates that it does indicate something; so love also loves indeed itself, but except it love itself as loving something, it loves itself not as love. What therefore does love love, except that which we love with love? But this, to begin from that which is nearest to us, is our brother. And listen how greatly the Apostle John commends brotherly love: He that loves his brother abides in the light, and there is none occasion of stumbling in him. It is manifest that he placed the perfection of righteousness in the love of our brother; for he certainly is perfect in whom there is no occasion of stumbling. And yet he seems to have passed by the love of God in silence; which he never would have done, unless because he intends God to be understood in brotherly love itself. For in this same epistle, a little further on, he says most plainly thus: Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loves is born of God, and knows God. He that loves not, knows not God; for God is love. And this passage declares sufficiently and plainly, that this same brotherly love itself (for that is brotherly love by which we love each other) is set forth by so great authority, not only to be from God, but also to be God. When, therefore, we love our brother from love, we love our brother from God; neither can it be that we do not love above all else that same love by which we love our brother: whence it may be gathered that these two commandments cannot exist unless interchangeably. For since God is love, he who loves love certainly loves God; but he must needs love love, who loves his brother. And so a little after he says, For he that loves not his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen? because the reason that he does not see God is, that he does not love his brother. For he who does not love his brother, abides not in love; and he who abides not in love, abides not in God, because God is love. Further, he who abides not in God, abides not in light; for God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. He therefore who abides not in light, what wonder is it if he does not see light, that is, does not see God, because he is in darkness? But he sees his brother with human sight, with which God cannot be seen. But if he loved with spiritual love him whom he sees with human sight, he would see God, who is love itself, with the inner sight by which He can be seen. Therefore he who does not love his brother whom he sees, how can he love God, whom on that account he does not see, because God is love, which he has not who does not love his brother? Neither let that further question disturb us, how much of love we ought to spend upon our brother, and how much upon God: incomparably more upon God than upon ourselves, but upon our brother as much as upon ourselves; and we love ourselves so much the more, the more we love God. Therefore we love God and our neighbor from one and the same love; but we love God for the sake of God, and ourselves and our neighbors for the sake of God.

Why is it that we are stirred with passion when we hear and read, "Look, now is the acceptable time; look, now is the day of salvation: giving no offense in anything, so that the ministry will not be blamed, but in all things proving ourselves as God's ministers, in much patience, in afflictions, in hardships, in distresses, in beatings, in imprisonments, in riots, in labors, in sleepless nights, in hunger; by purity, by knowledge, by patience, by kindness, by the Holy Spirit, by sincere love, by the word of truth, by God's power, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, through honor and dishonor, through bad reports and good reports: as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and look, we live; as punished, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things"? Why are we set on fire with love for the Apostle Paul when we read these things, unless we believe that this is how he actually lived? But we do not believe that God's ministers ought to live this way because we have heard it from someone, but because we see it inwardly within ourselves, or rather above ourselves, in truth itself. Therefore, the person whom we believe lived this way, we love because of what we see. And unless we loved above all else that form which we perceive as always steadfast and unchangeable, we would not love him for this reason—because we hold firmly in our belief that his life, when he was living in the flesh, was fitted to and in harmony with this form. But somehow we are stirred up even more to love this form itself, through the belief by which we believe someone lived this way, and through the hope by which we no longer despair at all that we too are able to live this way—we who are human beings—from this very fact: that some people have lived this way. So we both desire this more eagerly and pray for it more confidently. Thus both our love of that form, according to which they are believed to have lived, causes the lives of these people themselves to be loved by us, and their life as we believe it stirs up a more burning love toward that same form. So the more ardently we love God, the more certainly and the more calmly we see Him, because we behold in God the unchangeable form of righteousness, according to which we judge that a person ought to live. Therefore faith serves toward the knowledge and love of God, not as though He were completely unknown or completely unloved, but so that through faith He may be known more clearly and loved more steadfastly.

13. For why is it, pray, that we burn when we hear and read, Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation: giving no offense in anything, that the ministry be not blamed: but in all things approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in watchings, in fastings; by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, by honor and dishonor, by evil report and good report: as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and, behold, we live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things? Why is it that we are inflamed with love of the Apostle Paul, when we read these things, unless that we believe him so to have lived? But we do not believe that the ministers of God ought so to live because we have heard it from any one, but because we behold it inwardly within ourselves, or rather above ourselves, in the truth itself. Him, therefore, whom we believe to have so lived, we love for that which we see. And except we loved above all else that form which we discern as always steadfast and unchangeable, we should not for that reason love him, because we hold fast in our belief that his life, when he was living in the flesh, was adapted to, and in harmony with, this form. But somehow we are stirred up the more to the love of this form itself, through the belief by which we believe some one to have so lived; and to the hope by which we no more at all despair, that we, too, are able so to live; we who are men, from this fact itself, that some men have so lived, so that we both desire this more ardently, and pray for it more confidently. So both the love of that form, according to which they are believed to have lived, makes the life of these men themselves to be loved by us; and their life thus believed stirs up a more burning love towards that same form; so that the more ardently we love God, the more certainly and the more calmly do we see Him, because we behold in God the unchangeable form of righteousness, according to which we judge that man ought to live. Therefore faith avails to the knowledge and to the love of God, not as though of one altogether unknown, or altogether not loved; but so that thereby He may be known more clearly, and loved more steadfastly.

Love or charity, which divine Scripture so greatly praises and proclaims, is simply the love of good. But love belongs to someone who loves, and through love something is loved. So here are three things: the one who loves, that which is loved, and love itself. What is love, then, except a kind of life that joins together or tries to join together two things—the one who loves and that which is loved? This is true even in external and physical loves. But to take in something more pure and clear, let us set aside the flesh and rise to the mind. What does the mind love in a friend if not the mind? So there too are three things: the one who loves, that which is loved, and love. What remains is to climb higher still from here and to seek the things above, as far as is permitted to human beings. But let our inquiry pause here for a moment—not because it thinks it has already found what it is looking for, but rather like when we must first find the place where something should be searched for: the thing itself has not yet been found, but we have already discovered where to look for it. So let what we have said be enough to give us, as it were, the hinge of a starting point from which to develop the rest of our discussion.

14. But what is love or charity, which divine Scripture so greatly praises and proclaims, except the love of good? But love is of some one that loves, and with love something is loved. Behold, then, there are three things: he that loves, and that which is loved, and love. What, then, is love, except a certain life which couples or seeks to couple together some two things, namely, him that loves, and that which is loved? And this is so even in outward and carnal loves. But that we may drink in something more pure and clear, let us tread down the flesh and ascend to the mind. What does the mind love in a friend except the mind? There, then, also are three things: he that loves, and that which is loved, and love. It remains to ascend also from hence, and to seek those things which are above, as far as is given to man. But here for a little while let our purpose rest, not that it may think itself to have found already what it seeks; but just as usually the place has first to be found where anything is to be sought, while the thing itself is not yet found, but we have only found already where to look for it; so let it suffice to have said thus much, that we may have, as it were, the hinge of some starting-point, whence to weave the rest of our discourse.