Hexaemeron 4

Concerning the Gathering Together of the Waters.

There are certain cities that, with all sorts of spectacles of conjurers, from deep dawn until the very evening, feast the eyes.

And moreover, hearing for the longest time certain songs that are effeminate and corrupt and altogether breed much licentiousness in the souls, they are not satiated.

And many count such populaces blessed, because, leaving aside the trafficking in the marketplace or the contrivances for living from the trades, they pass the appointed time of their life in all sloth and pleasure — not knowing that a theater thriving with licentious spectacles is a common and public school of wantonness for those who sit together in it, and that the all-harmonious tunes of the flutes and the lewd songs, settling into the souls of the hearers, persuade them to nothing else than that all should behave indecently, imitating the strummings of the lyre-players or of the flute-players.

And already some of those mad about horses even fight over their horses in their dreams, re-yoking the chariots and changing the charioteers, and in short do not depart from their daytime folly even in the fantasies of sleep.

And shall we, then — we whom the Lord, the great wonder-worker and Artificer, has summoned to the display of His own works — grow weary at the spectacle, or shrink from the hearing of the oracles of the Spirit? Shall we not rather, standing around this great and varied workshop of the divine creation, and each going back in mind to the times above, behold the ordering of the universe? — heaven, on the one hand, set up, according to the prophetic word, like a vault;

the earth, on the other hand, boundless in magnitude and weight, settled upon itself;

the air, poured out, soft and moist by nature, furnishing to those that breathe their proper and continual nourishment, but yielding and parting before things in motion because of its softness, so that it is no hindrance from itself to those who rush through it, ever readily closing in again behind the things that cleave it and flowing around them;

and as for the nature of water — both that which is for nourishment and that which has been prepared for us for our other needs — and its orderly gathering together to the appointed places, you will behold from the things just now read to us.

"And God said, Let the water that is below the heaven be gathered together into one gathering, and let the dry land appear."

"And it was so, and the water that was below the heaven was gathered together into their gatherings, and the dry land appeared."

And God called the dry land Earth, and the gatherings of the waters He called Seas.

How much trouble you caused me in our earlier discourses, demanding the reason why the earth was 'invisible,' when color naturally accompanies every body, and every perceptible color is presented to sight! And perhaps what was then said did not seem to you sufficient—namely, that 'invisible' was spoken with reference to us, not with reference to its nature, on account of the overlay of water which at that time covered the whole earth.

Behold, now listen as Scripture itself makes the matter plain by its own words.

"Let the waters be gathered together, and let the dry land appear."

The curtains are drawn back, so that what until then was unseen may become visible.

Perhaps someone might further inquire into this point as well.

First, why does the text trace back to the Creator's command that which belongs to water by nature—namely, to flow downward? For so long as water happens to lie on a level surface, it remains stationary, having nowhere to flow off.

But once it reaches some slope, immediately the foremost part rushes forward, and the part adjoining it takes the place of what has moved, and the part following takes the place of that one.

And thus the foremost part is ever escaping ahead, while the part coming behind keeps pushing it on.

And the flow becomes the more rapid in proportion as the weight of what is being carried down is greater, and the place toward which it pours is the more hollow.

If, then, water is of such a nature, the command that bade it be gathered into one gathering would seem superfluous.

For it was bound in any case, by reason of the downward tendency of its nature, to give way of itself toward the most hollow region of all, and not to come to rest before its surface had been leveled.

For no region is so level as the surface of water.

Next, he says, how were the waters commanded to run together into one gathering, seeing that there appear to be many seas, separated very widely from one another in their position? To the first of these inquiries, then, we say this:

It was chiefly after the Master's command that you came to know the movements of water—that it is prone to tilt and unstable, and that it travels toward sloping and hollow places by nature.

But before this, what power it had, before the course arising from this command had been implanted in it, you neither saw yourself, nor heard from one who had seen.

For understand that the voice of God is productive of nature, and the command then given to the creation furnished to created things their succession for what was to follow.

Day and night were created once for all, and from that time even until now, succeeding one another and dividing time into equal portions, they do not cease.

The nature of the waters was commanded to run, and it never grows weary, being continually urged on by that command.

This I say with a view to the flowing portion of the waters.

For some flow of themselves, such as spring water and river water;

but others are collected and unmoving.

But my present discourse concerns the rushing waters.

"Let the waters be gathered into one gathering."

If ever, as you stood by a spring pouring forth abundant water, the thought occurred to you: Who thrusts this water up from the bowels of the earth? Who urges it forward? What storehouses does it come from? What is the place toward which it hastens? How is it that the one neither fails nor the other overflows?—all this hangs upon that first voice.

From there comes the impulse given to the water to run.

In every account of waters, remember the first voice: "Let the waters be gathered together."

They had to run, in order that they might take possession of their proper place;

then, having come into their appointed places, to remain by themselves, and not to advance further.

Therefore, according to the word of Ecclesiastes: "All the torrents go to the sea, yet the sea is not filled."

Since both the flowing of the waters by the divine command, and the confining of the sea within its bounds, derive from that first legislation:

"Let the waters be gathered into one gathering."

So that the inflowing water might not overflow the regions that receive it, ever passing on and filling one region after another, and flood the whole continent in unbroken succession, it was commanded to be gathered into one gathering.

For this reason the sea, often raging from the winds and rising to a great height with its waves, no sooner touches the shore than, dissolving its onset into foam, it draws back again.

"Will you not fear Me, says the Lord, who set the sand as a boundary to the sea?" By the weakest of all things, the sand, that which is irresistible in its violence is curbed.

For what prevented the Red Sea—seeing that all Egypt lies lower than it—from coming over and joining the sea adjacent to Egypt, had it not been fettered by the command of the Creator? For that Egypt is lower than the Red Sea was proved to us in fact by those who wished to join the two seas, the Egyptian and the Indian, in which latter the Red Sea lies.

For this reason they abandoned the undertaking—both Sesostris the Egyptian, who first began it, and Darius the Mede, who afterwards wished to carry it through.

These things I have said, that we may grasp the power of the command:

"Let the waters be gathered into one gathering."

That is to say: Let no other gathering come into being apart from this one, but let that which is gathered remain in the first collection.

Then, by saying that the waters were to be gathered into one gathering, He showed you that the waters were many, divided over many places.

For the hollows of the mountains, cleft by deep ravines, held a collection of waters.

And besides, many broad and level plains, falling short in size of none of the greatest seas, and countless valleys, and dales hollowed out in this and that shape—all then filled with waters—were emptied by the divine command, when the water from every quarter was driven together into one gathering.

And let no one say that, if there had been water over the earth, then surely all the hollows that now hold the sea would have been full.

Where, then, were the collections of the waters to come to be, if the hollows were already taken up beforehand? To this we shall reply that at that time the receptacles also were prepared together, since the water had to be separated off into a single mass.

For the sea beyond Gadeira did not yet exist;

nor that great deep, not to be braved by sailors, which embraces the island of Britain and the western Iberians;

but at that time, when the spacious expanse had been fashioned by the command of God, the multitudes of the waters were poured together into it.

But as to the objection that our account of the world's creation is contrary to experience—for not all the water appears to have run together into one gathering of waters—there is much that might be said, and it is at once obvious to everyone.

But perhaps it is even ridiculous to dispute about such matters.

For surely they ought not to bring forward to us the marsh-waters and those collected from rains, and by these suppose they refute our statement! Rather, He named as "one gathering" the greatest and most complete confluence of the waters.

For wells too are gatherings of waters made by hand, the moisture diffused through the earth flowing into the hollowed-out part of the ground.

So then the term "gathering" does not signify any chance accumulations of waters, but the eminent and greatest one, in which the whole element is displayed all together.

For just as fire, even when broken up into small portions for our daily use, is also poured out all together in the ether;

and air is divided up even into small portions, yet also all together encompasses the region around the earth;

so too in the case of water: even if there are some small separated masses, yet there is one gathering which separates off the whole element from the rest.

For the lakes—those in the regions of the north, and all those about the Greek region, Macedonia, the country of the Bithynians, and that occupying the land of the Palestinians—are clearly gatherings;

but our present discourse is about the greatest of all, that which is comparable in size to the earth.

That these lakes contain a quantity of water no one will dispute;

yet no one would, in reasonable speech, call them seas;

not even though some of them are exceedingly salty and earthy, much like the great sea—as is the Asphalt Lake in Judea, and Lake Serbonis, which lies between Egypt and Palestine and stretches along the Arabian desert.

For these are lakes, but the sea is one, as those who have traveled around the earth report.

Even though some think that the Hyrcanian and the Caspian are enclosed by themselves;

yet if one is to give any heed to the geographies of those who have made inquiry, these are connected with one another by channels, and all open out into the greatest sea.

As they say the Red Sea too is joined to the sea beyond Gadeira.

How then, he says, did God call the gatherings of the waters Seas? Because the waters indeed ran together into one gathering;

but the gatherings of the waters—that is, the gulfs cut off, each according to its own shape, by the surrounding land—these the Lord named seas.

A northern sea, a southern sea, an eastern sea, and again another, a western one.

And there are particular names of the various waters:

the Euxine Sea, and the Propontis, the Hellespont, the Aegean, and the Ionian, the Sardinian Sea and the Sicilian, and yet another, the Tyrrhenian.

And countless are the names of the seas, which it would now be tedious and full of vulgar pedantry to enumerate with precision.

For this reason God called the gatherings of the waters Seas.

But the sequence of our discourse has carried us off to this point; let us return to where we began.

"And God said, Let the waters be gathered into one gathering, and let the dry land appear."

He did not say, "and let the earth appear," lest He should again show it unwrought, being miry and mingled with the water, not yet having received its proper form or power.

At the same time, lest we should attribute to the sun the cause of drying up the earth, the Creator brought about the dryness of the earth as prior to the genesis of the sun.

Attend with your mind to the meaning of what is written: that not only the excess water flowed off the earth, but also all that had been mingled with it in its depths—this too withdrew, obeying the inexorable command of the Master.

Sufficient is this addition to show that the Creator's word came to actual effect.

There is added in many of the copies: "And the water that was under the heaven was gathered together into their gatherings, and the dry land appeared";

but neither did any of the other translators render these words, nor does the usage of the Hebrews appear to contain them.

For in truth it is superfluous, after the testimony "It was so," to have again a restatement of the same things.

Therefore in the accurate copies these words have been marked with an obelus;

and the obelus is a sign of rejection.

"And God called the dry land Earth, and the gatherings of the waters He called Seas."

Why was it that in the preceding words it was said, "Let the waters be gathered into one gathering, and let the dry land appear," and not written, "and let the earth appear"; and here again, "The dry land appeared, and God called the dry land Earth"? Because the "dry" is the distinctive property, the as-it-were characteristic mark of the nature of the underlying subject, whereas "earth" is a bare designation of the thing.

For just as "rational" is the property of man, while the word "man" is significative of the animal to which that property belongs;

so too the "dry" is the property of earth, and that which sets it apart.

To that, then, to which dryness peculiarly belongs, the name "earth" has been given;

just as that to which neighing peculiarly belongs is called "horse."

And this holds not only in the case of earth, but each of the other elements too has its own peculiar and allotted quality, by which it is distinguished from the rest, and by which each is recognized for what it is.

Water has coldness as its peculiar quality;

but these are contemplated by reason as the primary elements of compound things, in the manner described, whereas those already ordered into a body and falling under sense-perception have their qualities conjoined.

And nothing among visible and perceptible things is absolutely single, nor simple and unmixed;

but earth is dry and cold, water is moist and cold, air is hot and moist, fire is hot and dry. For thus, through the paired quality, the power arises for each to be mingled with each;

for each is blended with its neighboring element through the common quality, and through its kinship with the adjacent one it is joined to its opposite.

For instance, earth, being dry and cold, is united with water through the kinship of coldness, and is united through water with air;

since water, set midway between the two, as it were by the application of two hands lays hold with each of its qualities upon the things adjacent to it—by coldness upon the earth, and by moisture upon the air.

Again, air by its mediation becomes a reconciler of the warring natures of water and fire, being interwoven with water through moisture, and with fire through heat.

And fire, being hot and dry in nature, is bound to air through the hot, and through the dry returns again to fellowship with the earth.

And thus there comes to be a circle and a harmonious chorus, all the elements concording and corresponding with one another.

Whence too the designation "elements" (stoicheia) has been properly applied to them.

These things I have said in setting forth the reason why God called the dry land Earth, and did not name the earth dry.

Because dryness is not among the things that accrue to the earth afterward, but among those that from the beginning complete its essence.

And the things that furnish the cause of its very being are by nature prior to, and more honorable than, those that accrue afterward.

So that it was with good reason that the distinguishing marks for the earth were conceived from the pre-existent and elder properties.

"And God saw that it was good."

The text does not mean that some pleasing sight of the sea appeared to God in this very respect.

For the Maker does not behold the beauties of creation with eyes, but contemplates the things that come to be by His ineffable wisdom.

Pleasant indeed is the sight when the sea is whitening, a settled calm possessing it;

pleasant too when, its surface ruffled by gentle breezes, it casts upon the beholders a purple or dark-blue hue;

when it does not violently beat against the neighboring dry land, but as it were embraces it with certain peaceful enfoldings.

Yet one must not suppose that Scripture meant that to God the sea appeared beautiful and pleasant in this way; rather, there the "good" is judged by the principle of its creation.

First, because the water of the sea is the source of all the moisture about the earth;

this being distributed through hidden passages, as the spongy and cavernous parts of the continents show, beneath which the flowing sea, channeling its way along, whenever it is caught in winding outlets that do not lead upward, being driven by the wind that moves it, is carried out, having burst through the surface, and becomes potable, its bitterness healed by the filtration.

And sometimes, having taken on a hotter quality from the minerals along its passage, from the same cause—the moving force—it becomes seething, and for the most part fiery;

which it is possible to observe in many of the islands, and in many of the coastal regions.

Indeed, even in the interior, certain places that are neighbors of river-waters undergo the like—to compare small things with great.

To what purpose, then, has this been said by me? That the whole earth is undermined with channels, the water sinking back through unseen passages from the sources of the sea.

The sea, then, is good in God's sight, even because of the under-running of moisture in the deep;

good also because, being a receptacle of rivers, it receives into itself the streams from every quarter, and yet remains within its own bounds;

good also because it is a kind of beginning and source for the waters of the air: being warmed by the ray of the sun, it gives off the finer part of its water as vapors, which, drawn up to the region above, then cooled—because it has risen higher than the reflection of the rays from the ground, while at the same time the shade from the cloud intensifies the cooling—becomes rain, and enriches the earth.

And no one at all disbelieves these things who has considered the cauldrons set over a fire, which, though full of liquid, have often been left empty, all that was boiled having been resolved into vapor.

But one may actually see the very water of the sea being boiled by sailors;

who, receiving the vapors with sponges, in their necessities procure for themselves a moderate supply for their need.

The sea is good in God's sight in yet another way, because it girds the islands round about, at once providing them with adornment and also, by itself, with security;

and then because it joins together by itself the continents that lie farthest apart from one another, furnishing to sailors an unhindered intercourse;

through which it both bestows the knowledge of things unknown, and becomes for merchants a procurer of wealth, and readily supplies the needs of life—providing for the prosperous an export of their surplus, and bestowing on the needy a supply of what they lack.

And whence am I able to behold accurately the whole beauty of the sea, as much of it as appeared to the eye of its Maker? But if the sea is beautiful and praiseworthy in God's sight, how is not the assembly of such a church far more beautiful, in which a commingled sound—like that of some wave breaking upon the shore—of men and women and infants is sent up in our supplications to God?

And a deep calm keeps it unshaken, the spirits of wickedness not being able to trouble it with heretical doctrines.

Become, then, worthy of acceptance by the Lord, preserving this good order in its most seemly form, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and might unto the ages of ages. Amen.