Stromateis 1 part 37/42

But, referring the dignified enjoyment of all things always to God, he offers the first-fruits of both food and drink and anointing to the Giver of all, confessing gratitude both for the gift and for its use, through the word given to him; he rarely attends banquets and drinking-parties, except perhaps when the gathering, promising him friendliness and unanimity of mind, might urge him to come.

For he is persuaded that God knows and hears all things — not only the sound of the voice, but also the thought itself — since even our own hearing, though it operates through bodily channels, does not have its apprehension by bodily power, but through a certain sense of the soul and a discerning understanding of the sounds that signify something.

God, then, is not for this reason man-shaped; nor does he need senses in order to hear — as it pleased the Stoics to suppose, especially hearing and sight, on the ground that he could never otherwise apprehend anything.

But rather, both the susceptibility of the air, and the most acute joint-perception of the angels, and that power of the soul which touches upon the conscience, by a certain ineffable power, and without sensible hearing, know all things together with the very thought.

And even if one should say that the voice rolling about down below in the air does not reach God, yet the thoughts of the holy ones cut through not only the air, but also the whole universe.

And the divine power is quick, like light, to see through the whole soul.

What then? Do not even our purposes reach God, sending forth their own voice before them? And are they not conveyed by conscience? What voice, indeed, would he need to wait for, who according to his own purpose has known the elect one, and, before that one's very birth, has known the one who is yet to be as though already existing? Or does not the light of his power shine everywhere into the depths of every soul, the lamp of that power searching out 'the inward chambers,' as Scripture says? For God is wholly hearing, and wholly eye, if one may use such terms of him.

In general, then, a conception of God that is unfitting preserves no piety at all — neither in hymns nor in words, nor even in writings or doctrines — but turns aside into base and unseemly notions and suspicions.

Hence the praise of the many differs in nothing from blasphemy, because of their ignorance of the truth.

Of those things, then, for which there are cravings and desires, and, in general, impulses — of those same things there are also prayers.

Wherefore no one desires drink as such, but rather to drink the drink; nor indeed an inheritance, but to inherit it; and likewise not knowledge as such, but to know.

For neither does he desire an upright manner of life as such, but rather to live it out.

Of these things, then, are the prayers, of which there are also petitions; and of these things are the petitions, of which there are also desires.

To pray and to desire come about correspondingly, with a view to possessing the good things and the benefits that attach to their possession.

The gnostic, then, always makes his prayer and petition for the truly good things that concern the soul, and he prays while at the same time himself cooperating so as to come into a settled disposition of goodness — so that he may no longer merely have the good things as certain lessons laid alongside him, but may himself be good.

One must ask both when and how each thing should be asked.

But it is the utmost ignorance to ask of those who are not gods as though they were gods, or to ask for things that are not beneficial, thereby asking, under the illusion of good things, for evils upon oneself.

Hence, reasonably, since there is one good God, it is from him alone that we, together with the angels, pray that some good things be given, and others remain with us — yet not in the same manner.

For it is not the same thing to ask that a gift already given may remain, as to be eager to obtain it in the first place.

And the averting of evils is likewise a form of prayer.

But such a prayer must never be used for the harm of other men — except when the gnostic, contriving thereby the sinner's conversion to righteousness, might administer his petition on behalf of those who have grown callous.

Prayer is, then — to put it somewhat boldly — converse with God.

And even if, whispering, without so much as opening our lips, we speak in silence, still we cry out from within.

For God unceasingly hears every inward discourse.

For this reason we also lift up our head, and raise our hands toward heaven, and rise upon our feet at the closing utterance of the prayer, following the readiness of the spirit toward the intelligible substance; and, endeavoring together with the word to raise the body up from the earth, having made the soul, winged by longing for the better things, soar aloft, we press forward to advance toward the holy things, rising in magnanimity above the bond of the flesh.

For we know very well that the gnostic makes his exodus from the whole world voluntarily — just as, indeed, the Jews departed from Egypt — thereby demonstrating, more clearly than by anything else, that he might be as near as possible to God.

And if some indeed assign fixed hours to prayer — such as, say, the third, the sixth, and the ninth — the gnostic nevertheless prays throughout his whole life, hastening through prayer to be united with God, and having left behind, to put it briefly, everything that would be of no use to him once he has arrived there — as one who has already received here, in this life, the perfection proper to him who has come to full maturity in love.

But those who recognize the blessed triad of abodes also know the distributions of the hours divided into three, and honored with equal prayers.

Having arrived at this point, I was reminded of the doctrines put forward by certain heterodox persons — that is, those of the sect surrounding Prodicus — concerning the notion that one ought not to pray.

In order, then, that they may not swell with pride over this godless wisdom of theirs, as though it were some novel heresy, let them learn that it was already anticipated by the philosophers called Cyrenaics.

Nevertheless, the unholy 'knowledge' of these falsely-named ones will meet its refutation in due time, so that it may not, by intruding into this treatise now, its onslaught being no small matter, interrupt the argument presently in hand — since we are here demonstrating that the only one who is truly holy and God-fearing is the one who is, in reality, the gnostic according to the rule of the church, to whom alone the granting of his petition, in accordance with the will of God, is allotted — whether he actually asks, or merely conceives the thought.

For just as God is able to do everything that he wills, so also the gnostic receives everything that he asks.

For God knows altogether both those who are worthy of good things and those who are not;

whence he gives to each what is fitting.

Wherefore he would often not give to the unworthy who ask, but would give to the worthy, clearly because they are indeed such.

Not that the asking is superfluous, even if the good things are given without any claim of worthiness.

For instance, both thanksgiving and the petition for the conversion of one's neighbors are the work of the Gnostic.

In this way the Lord too used to pray, giving thanks for the things by which he had brought his ministry to completion, and praying that as many as possible might come to full knowledge, so that God might be glorified among those saved through salvation according to full knowledge, and that he who alone is good and alone Savior might, through the Son, be known from age to age.

And yet faith that one will receive is itself a form of prayer, latent within one in a gnostic manner.

But if prayer becomes a certain occasion for converse with God, then no occasion for access to God is to be neglected.

Indeed, the Gnostic's piety, being entwined with blessed providence, shows forth, through his willing confession, the perfect beneficence of God.

The Gnostic's piety is a kind of reciprocal turning of providence, and a reciprocal goodwill on the part of God's friend.

For God is not good involuntarily, the way fire gives heat (rather his imparting of good things is voluntary, even when it anticipates the request); nor indeed will the one being saved be saved involuntarily;

for he is not without a soul, but rather, all the more, he will hasten toward salvation willingly and by deliberate choice.

Wherefore man also received the commandments, as one who has, of himself, an impulse toward whichever of the things to be chosen and the things to be avoided he might wish.

God, then, does not do good by necessity, but does good, according to choice, to those who turn to him of themselves.

For the providence that comes to us from God is not a menial thing, as though advancing from worse to better; rather, out of mercy for our weakness, the proximate dispensations of providence are put into operation, just as also is the care of shepherds for their sheep, and that of a king toward his subjects, and our own obedient disposition toward those who lead us, who order things in due rank according to the office entrusted to them by God.

Servants, then, and worshippers of the divine are those who render the most liberal and most kingly service—that rendered through pious disposition and knowledge.

Every place, then, in which we receive the thought of God is truly sacred, and so is every time.

But when one who is at once well-disposed and thankful makes his request through prayer, he in some measure cooperates toward the receiving, gladly receiving, through the very things he prays for, what he desires.

For whenever the giver of good things receives our readiness of disposition, all good things follow together at once, upon that very act of cooperation.

Indeed, through prayer one's character is examined—how it stands in relation to what is fitting.

But if voice and speech have been given us for the sake of expressing thought, how does God not hearken to the soul itself and to the mind, seeing that already soul perceives soul and mind perceives mind? Whence God does not wait upon many-tongued languages as human interpreters do, but knows the thoughts of all at once, altogether; and what our voice signifies to us, this our very thought speaks to God—which he knew, even before creation, would come to such understanding.

It is possible, then, even without voice, to send forth one's prayer, merely concentrating from within one's whole spiritual being into the intelligible voice, according to an undistracted turning toward God.

Since the sunrise is an image of one's birthday, and from thence the light increases, having first shone forth out of darkness, so too for those wallowing in ignorance the day of the knowledge of truth has dawned, in a manner analogous to the sun; hence prayers are directed toward the eastward, morning sunrise.

Whence also the most ancient temples faced toward the west, so that those standing opposite the images might be taught to turn toward the east.

'Let my prayer be set before you as incense, the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice'—so the psalms say.

For wicked men, then, prayer is most harmful—not only toward others, but also toward themselves.

For indeed, even if, having asked, they should receive what men call good fortunes, these things harm them once received, since they have no knowledge of how to use them.

For some pray to obtain what they do not have, asking for things that merely seem good, not things that truly are.

But the Gnostic will ask for the continuance of what he already possesses, for readiness for the things he is going to advance beyond, and for the abiding permanence of what he has not yet received.

But the things that are truly good, those concerning the soul, he prays both to have and to have them remain.

In this respect he does not even desire anything that is absent, being content with what is present.

For he is not lacking in the good things proper to himself, being already sufficient for himself through divine grace and knowledge;

but having become self-sufficient and without need of other things, and having come to know the all-sovereign will, both possessing it and at the same time praying for it, having become attentive to the all-powerful might, and having striven to be spiritual, he has been united to the Spirit through boundless love.

having acquired in his soul the power of contemplatives, that is, the penetrating keenness of knowledge.

And he strives with all his might to acquire this power, having gained mastery over the things that war against the mind, devoting himself unceasingly to contemplation, and having trained himself, through discipline, both to restrain pleasures and to carry out rightly the things that must be done;

Besides these things, having drawn on much experience both in learning and in life, he possesses boldness of speech—not the power that is simply so, unbridled of tongue, but a power that employs plain speech, concealing nothing that can be said at the fitting time, on matters where it is most necessary, neither for favor's sake nor for fear's.

Fittingly, then, he who has grasped the things concerning God, taught by truth herself in her mystic choir, employs speech that exhorts to the greatness of virtue, displaying, according to its worth, both virtue itself and what proceeds from it; and with the god-given soaring of prayer he appropriates to himself, as far as possible, the things intelligible and spiritual, in a gnostic manner.

Whence he is always gentle and mild, easy of access, easy to meet, patient under wrongs, fair-minded, of good conscience, and austere;

This man is austere for us not only in incorruptibility but also in being untempted (for he in no way presents his soul as yielding or capturable by pleasure or by pain); he becomes a judge, when reason calls for it, remaining unswerving and granting nothing whatsoever to the passions, walking unchangeably in the path in which justice is naturally disposed to proceed, persuaded that all things are administered altogether excellently, and that progress toward the better always advances for souls that have chosen virtue, until they arrive at the Good itself—having come, so to speak, to the threshold of the Father, close to the great High Priest.

This is for us the faithful Gnostic, who is persuaded that the affairs of the world are administered in the best way; indeed, he is well pleased with all that happens.

Reasonably, then, he seeks after none of the things suited to necessary use in life, persuaded that God, who knows all things, supplies whatever is beneficial even to those who do not ask for good things.

For just as, I think, things are rendered to the craftsman in a craftsman's way and to the pagan in a pagan's way, so also to the Gnostic each thing is rendered in a gnostic way.

And the one turning from among the nations will ask for faith, while the one advancing to knowledge will ask for the perfection of love.

But the Gnostic, already at the summit, prays that contemplation may both increase and remain with him, just as the ordinary man prays for continuous health.

Yes indeed, he will also ask never to fall away from virtue, cooperating above all so as to remain unfallen.

For he knows that even some of the angels, having slipped down to earth again through negligence, have not yet fully wrung themselves free from their proneness to duplicity into that one settled condition.

But for the one who has here been trained toward the summit of knowledge and the exalted height of the perfect man, having already traversed beforehand all things according to time and place, having chosen to live unchangeably and practicing this because of the uniformly steadfast constancy of his disposition on every side—

but for those in whom some heavy corner still remains, inclining downward, even that which is led upward through faith is dragged down along with it.

For the one, then, who by gnostic discipline has made virtue unable to be cast off, his habit is confirmed as though by nature; and just as weight belongs to a stone, so for this man knowledge becomes unable to be cast off—not involuntarily, but voluntarily, established by a rational, gnostic, and provident power.

But since that which is not cast off becomes unforsakeable through caution and through sound reasoning, he will hold fast to caution with a view to not sinning, and to sound reasoning with a view to the unforsakeable character of virtue.

And knowledge seems to supply this sound reasoning, teaching one to discern clearly the things able to help toward the abiding continuance of virtue.

Knowledge of God, then, is the greatest thing.

Wherefore also by this the unforsakeable character of virtue is preserved.

And he who has come to know God is holy and pious.

Therefore the Gnostic alone has been shown, for us, to be pious.

This man rejoices in the good things present, and delights in the things promised, as though they were already present.

They do not remain hidden from him as though still absent, since through what he has already come to know beforehand, he perceives what they are.

Being persuaded, then, by knowledge—both that it is so, and how each of the things to come exists—he already possesses this.

For that which is lacking and in need is measured in relation to what is due to it.

If, then, he has acquired wisdom, and wisdom is divine, he who partakes of that which lacks nothing would himself be lacking nothing.

For the impartation of wisdom does not occur by the power and the partaker moving and constraining one another, nor by anything being taken away or becoming deficient;

but rather, the power is shown, through the very act of impartation, to be undiminished.

Thus, then, the Gnostic, for us, has all good things according to potentiality, but not yet according to full number, since otherwise he would be unchangeable with respect to the divinely-ordained advances and dispensations still owed to him.

And God also cooperates with this man, having honored him with a more attentive oversight.

Is it not so? Have not all things come to be for the sake of good men, for their use and benefit—or rather, for their salvation? He would not, then, take away from these men the things that come through virtue, they being the very ones for whose sake the things that have come to be exist.

For it is clear that he would honor their good nature and holy resolve, he who indeed also breathes strength for the remaining salvation into those who have taken up the purpose of living well—for some merely exhorting them, but also cooperating with those who have become worthy of themselves;

For everything good is, for the Gnostic, a supervening result, if indeed his end is to know, and to do, each thing knowledgeably.

But just as the physician provides health to those who cooperate toward health, so also God provides eternal salvation to those who cooperate toward knowledge and right conduct; and along with the doing—since what the commandments enjoin is within our power—the promise too is fulfilled.

And it seems to me that this too is well said among the Greeks:

A certain athlete of no mean repute among the ancients, having for a long time trained his body very well for manly strength, went up to Olympia, and looking upon the statue of the Pisaean Zeus, said, 'O Zeus, if everything has been duly prepared by me for the contest, grant and justly render the victory to me.'

For thus also for the Gnostic, who has fulfilled blamelessly and with good conscience all that is in his own power — both for learning and for spiritual training and for well-doing and for pleasing God — the whole...

...contributes together toward the most perfect salvation.

These things, then, are required of us: of what is in our power and of what pertains to us, whether present or absent — choice, and desire, and acquisition, and use, and perseverance.

Wherefore he who converses with God must keep his soul unstained and utterly undefiled — best of all, having wrought himself perfectly good; but if not that, at least making progress toward knowledge and reaching after it, while being entirely torn away from the works of wickedness.

But it is also fitting that all prayers be made with fairness, and together with those who are fair-minded.

For it is perilous to become jointly implicated in the sins of others.

Concerning these matters, then, the Gnostic will also pray together with those who believe in a more common way, in matters where it is also fitting to act together.

And his whole life...is a holy festival.

For instance, his sacrifices are prayers and praises, and the readings of the Scriptures before the meal; and psalms and hymns during the meal and before sleep — and again prayers by night as well.

Through these he unites himself with the divine choir, being brought, by means of continual remembrance, into the state of everlasting contemplation.

What then? Does he not also know that other sacrifice — the giving to those in need, both of teachings and of money? Indeed he does, and very well.

But in vocal prayer he does not use many words, having learned from the Lord also what things ought to be asked for.

In every place, then, he will pray — yet not openly nor conspicuously in the sight of the many.

And even while walking, and conversing, and in silence, and in reading, and in works done according to reason, he prays in every way.

And even if only in the inner chamber of his soul he conceives the thought and calls upon the Father with unspeakable groanings, He is near, and is present even while he is still speaking.

He does everything that is profitable, but leaves the doing of things for the sake of pleasure to those who pursue the common life.

Far be it that one who is proved in such piety should be ready either to lie or to swear.

For an oath is a definitive affirmation made with the additional invocation of the divine.

But how could one who is already faithful show himself to be untrustworthy, so as to need an oath — and not rather have his very life stand as an oath, firmly and definitely? He lives and conducts himself as a citizen, and displays the faithfulness of his profession in an unchanging and steadfast life and speech.

But if wrongdoing lies in the judgment of the one who acts and speaks, and not in the suffering of the one wronged, then he will neither lie nor swear falsely as one who wrongs the divine — knowing that the divine is by nature incapable of being harmed.

Nor, moreover, will he lie or transgress anything for the sake of his neighbor — whom, indeed, he has learned to love, even if that person happens not to be an acquaintance.

And for his own sake he will still less lie or swear falsely, since he would never willingly be found unjust toward himself.

But he will not even swear, choosing to set forth simply the word 'Yes' for affirmation, and 'No' for denial.

For to swear an oath is nothing other than to offer an oath from the mind, as it were, in a way that gives it demonstrative force.

It suffices for him, then, to add to either his affirmation or his denial the words 'I speak truly,' as a demonstration for those who cannot discern the reliability of his answer.

For, I think, one must have, toward those outside, a life so trustworthy that not even an oath would be demanded, and, toward himself and those who understand, a fair-mindedness which is voluntary righteousness.

For instance, the Gnostic keeps his oaths well, yet is not prone to swearing; he arrives at swearing but rarely, and even then only in the manner we have described.

And yet, speaking truly in accordance with an oath comes about together with agreement with what is true.

Keeping one's oath well, then, comes about through right conduct in what is fitting.

Where, then, is there still any need of an oath for one who lives according to the utmost truth? He who does not even swear is far indeed from ever perjuring himself; and he who transgresses nothing of his agreements would never even swear at all, since the ratification of both transgression and fulfillment lies in deeds — just as, of course, lying and false-swearing lie in speaking and in swearing contrary to what is fitting.

But he who has lived justly, transgressing none of his duties, keeps his oath by his deeds, wherever the judgment concerning truth is examined.

Testimony by the tongue is, therefore, superfluous for him.

Being persuaded, then, that God is everywhere at all times, and reverencing untruthfulness, and knowing that lying is unworthy of himself, he is content with the divine conscience and his own alone;

and for this reason he does not lie nor act contrary to his agreements; for this reason too, even when required to take an oath, he does not swear, nor does he ever deny — lest he should lie — even if he should die in the midst of torments.

But the one who has taken up the oversight of teaching others intensifies the Gnostic dignity even further, having undertaken, in word and deed, the stewardship of the greatest good on earth, through which he mediates union and communion with the divine.

And just as those who worship earthly things pray to their statues as though these could hear, placing firm trust in them, so too, in the case of the living statues that are human beings, the true magnificence of the Word is received from a trustworthy teacher; and the benefit done to these is referred back to the Lord himself, in whose image the man who is truly a man, by teaching, fashions and reshapes...renewing unto salvation the person being catechized.

For just as the Greeks, by a certain figure of speech, call iron 'Ares' and wine 'Dionysus,' so the Gnostic, regarding the benefit of his neighbors as his own salvation, might fittingly be called a living statue of the Lord — not with respect to the peculiarity of his form, but according to the symbol of his power and the likeness of his proclamation.

...he brings the fruit of his tongue to those worthy to hear it, out of sincere agreement, speaking from conviction and, at the same time, living accordingly.

For he both thinks the truth and speaks the truth — except perhaps, in the manner of a remedy, as a physician toward the sick for the recovery of his patients, he may tell a falsehood or speak an untruth, in the sense the sophists discuss.

For instance, the noble apostle circumcised Timothy, even while crying out and writing that circumcision made by hand profits nothing.

But it was so that he might not, by abruptly wrenching them away from the Law toward the circumcision that is of the heart, through faith, compel the still-restive Hebrew hearers to break away from the synagogue; accommodating himself, he became a Jew to the Jews, that he might gain all.

He, then, who condescends so far as accommodation for the sake of the salvation of his neighbors (purely for the sake of the salvation of those for whom he accommodates himself), partaking of no hypocrisy on account of the danger hanging over the righteous from those who are overzealous, is by no means under compulsion.

But for the benefit of his neighbors alone he will do certain things which would not, as a matter of primary choice, be done by him, were he not doing them for their sake.

This man gives himself up on behalf of the church, on behalf of the acquaintances whom he himself has begotten in the faith, as an example to those capable of succeeding to the utmost stewardship of the man-loving and God-loving instructor, for the demonstration of the truth of his words, and for the working out of love toward the Lord.

This man is unenslaved before fear, truthful in speech, steadfast in toil, never willing even in spoken word to lie, and in this too always achieving sinlessness — since a falsehood itself, being spoken with a certain deceit, is not an idle word, but works toward evil.

From every side, then, the Gnostic alone bears witness to the truth, both in deed and in word.

for he always, in every respect, does what is right in all things — in word, in deed, and in the very thought itself.

This, then, to speak in cursory fashion, is the piety of the Christian.

If indeed he does these things fittingly and according to right reason, he does them piously and justly.

And if this is so, then the Gnostic alone would truly be pious and just and God-fearing.

The Christian, then, is not an atheist (for this was the very point proposed for demonstration to the philosophers), so that he will never, in any way whatsoever, do anything evil or shameful, that is to say, unjust.

Consequently, then, he does not act impiously either, but rather he alone truly worships God in a holy and fitting manner, devoutly turning in supplication, according to true piety, to the God who truly is — the sovereign ruler over all, king of all, and almighty.

For knowledge is, so to speak, a certain perfecting of man as man, being completed through the science of divine things with respect to character, life, and reason — in harmony and agreement both with itself and with the divine Word.

For through this, faith is perfected, since it is only by this that the believer becomes perfect.

Faith, then, is a certain inward good, which, even without seeking, confesses that God exists and glorifies him as existing.

Whence one must, being led up from this faith and having grown in it by the grace of God, obtain, as far as it is possible, the knowledge concerning him.

We say that knowledge differs from the wisdom that arises through teaching.

For insofar as something is knowledge, it is by all means also wisdom; but insofar as something is wisdom, it is not by all means knowledge.

For the name of wisdom is imagined to belong solely to that of spoken discourse.

Nevertheless, not to doubt concerning God, but to believe, is the foundation of knowledge; and Christ is both — both the foundation and the superstructure built upon it — through whom are both the beginning and the ends.

And the two extremes are not taught — the beginning and the end, I mean faith and love — but knowledge, being transmitted from tradition according to the grace of God, is entrusted like a deposit to those who present themselves as worthy of the teaching; from it the dignity of love shines forth from light to light.

For it is said, 'To him who has, more shall be given' — to faith, knowledge is added; to knowledge, love; and to love, the inheritance.