Against Eunomius 1 part 14/56

For it is possible for everything whatever that may come into the mind—whether it subsists according to the understanding or is otherwise disposed—to be laid up at will in the letter; and the sound is the same thing to the letter for the manifestation of the thought.

For by both alike we make known that which has been conceived in the mind.

With what in view, then, he dissolves the conception together with the mere spoken word alone, I am unable to discern.

For in every discourse uttered by means of some sound, there occurs a passing over of the breath which conveys the voice toward that which is akin to it, while the meaning of what was said is stamped, through the hearing, upon the memory of the hearer's soul, whether it happen to be true or mistaken.

The treatise-writer therefore offers us this cold interpretation of this conception, characterizing and defining it by the dissolution of the voice.

And for this reason that discerning hearer, as Isaiah says, sets aside this senseless natural theory of conception, having shown it to be truly dissoluble and without subsistence according to this man's own account, and instead treats scientifically of the power that lies within the expression, leading his discourse forward toward the contemplation of doctrines by means of familiar examples.

Against him Eunomius, exalting himself by means of this pompous piece of writing, undertakes to unravel what had been carefully set forth concerning conception, in the following manner.

But it is perhaps better, before setting straight what has been written, to examine his purpose: with what intent he avoids applying the term 'unbegotten' to God by way of conception.

Now this understanding is firmly fixed in the souls of believers, and all honor and worship and glory are rendered by all to the Only-begotten God as the Author of life, to Him who does the works of the Father, as the Lord Himself says in the Gospel, and who falls short in no conception of the good in any exalted degree. Yet these men, moved I know not whence by ill-will and envy of the Lord's honor, as though counting the worship rendered to the Only-begotten God by believers a loss to themselves, rise up against the divine honors and undertake to persuade men that nothing of what is said concerning Him is said truly.

For, they say, He is not true God, even though He is somehow called God by Scripture; nor, being called Son, does He have a nature that verifies the appellation; nor is there any fellowship with the Father for Him, either in dignity or in nature.

For it is impossible, they say, that the begotten should be equal in honor with the Maker in dignity, or power, or nature; because for the one, life is boundless and existence is from eternity, whereas for the Son, life is in a manner circumscribed, since the beginning at which He came to be limits the forward advance of His life upward and prevents it from being coextensive with the eternity of the Father;

so that His life is to be reckoned deficient, and the Father was not always what He now is and is called, but was something else before, and afterward took counsel to become Father—or rather, not to become, but to be so named;

for He was not named Father of a Son in truth, but of a creature that had been subjected to the appellation of Son.

And in every case, they say, that which is later is inferior to the older, and the limited to the eternal, and that which is begotten according to the will of its Maker is of necessity diminished, in comparison with that very Maker, in power and dignity and nature and in the precedence that comes from time and in all things of honor.

But where perfection is absent in the more divine suppositions, how could anyone with reason dignify this with the honors of the true God? So that from this they establish that He who is imperfect in power, and deficient in the perfection of life, and subject to the one who holds sway, and does nothing of Himself except what is ordained by the command of the ruler—that this one must be believed to be in no God-befitting honor or estimation, but rather to be named God while bearing about the name empty of every magnificent conception.

And since these things, when stated thus baldly without any covering of reasonings, somehow provoke to anger and make the hearer shudder at their strangeness (for who would accept a wicked counselor who nakedly and without artifice advises the abolition of Christ's majesty?), for this reason, having concealed this wicked ambush of their argument by certain plausible diversions and deceptions, they beguile the foolish among their hearers with external conceptions.

...the understanding of the hearers, leaving to the hearer the final conclusion of the catastrophe.

For having said that the Only-begotten God is not the same in essence as the true Father, and having concluded this sophistically through the antithesis of the unbegotten to the begotten, they proceed to work out what follows from this in silence, since the impiety is confirmed of itself through logical consequence.

And just as the poisoner makes the deadly drug easy to swallow, sweetening the destruction with honey for the one plotted against—and he only administers it, but the poison, once mingled with the entrails, works its ruin without the poisoner busying himself further—something similar happens also at their hands;

for having coated the corrupting doctrine, as with honey, by the elegant subtleties of their sophisms, once they have poured into the hearer's soul the deceit concerning the Only-begotten God not being true God, they have, even in their silence, accomplished together with this all the rest.

For upon being persuaded that He is not truly God there follows the conclusion that nothing else of the things said concerning Him in a God-befitting manner is said in truth;

for if He is neither Son nor God in truth, but each of these by a misuse of terms, then assuredly the rest of the names also, by which He is named by the divine Scripture, are severed from the truth.

For it will not be that one thing shall be said truly of Him while another lacks its share of truth; rather, all things shall assuredly follow one upon another, so that if He truly be God, He is also both judge and king and each of the things said to be, as they are said; but if the Godhead be false, then no other thing concerning Him is true either.

So then, when those who have been deceived are persuaded that in the case of the Only-begotten the title of Godhead is a false name, it is together established that one need neither serve, nor worship, nor render at all to Him the honor owed to God.

In order, therefore, that their attempt against the Savior might be effective, they devised this method of blasphemy.

They counsel that one ought not to look at the fellowship in the other names, through which the equality of the Son's dignity with the Father is signified, but rather to infer the difference of nature from the antithesis of the unbegotten to the begotten;

for this, they say, is the divine nature—that very thing which the name of unbegottenness signifies.

Then, whereas all men who have any sense reckon it impossible that the ineffable nature should be declared by any power of words—since neither is our knowledge extended so far as to reach beyond the things that are known, nor has so great a power in the ministry of words been allotted to us as to be sufficient to declare what has been conceived, if indeed anything lofty and divine at all should come to mind—these wise men, on the contrary, condemning the multitude for great stupidity and inexperience in the science of reasoning, both affirm that they themselves know these things and boast that they can produce the knowledge of them in whomever they will.

And on account of this they say that the divine nature is nothing other than unbegottenness itself, and calling this the most authoritative and highest, they enclose the whole majesty of the Godhead within this one word;

so that from this it is established that, if unbegottenness is the most authoritative element of the essence and the rest of the God-befitting names are bound up with it—Godhead, incorruptibility, power, and all the others—if then these and such things are unbegottenness, assuredly, if anything is not so called, neither will those things exist.

For just as being rational, and capable of laughter, and receptive of knowledge is proper to man, and if anything is not man, neither will it at all be among the properties of that nature; so likewise, if unbegottenness is the true Godhead, then to whatever this name does not belong, neither will any other of the things that characterize the Godhead at all be found belonging to it.

Since, therefore, unbegottenness is not predicated of the Son, it is established that neither can all the rest of the lofty and God-befitting names be properly said of Him.

This, then, they define to be the comprehension of the divine mysteries—the denial of the Son's Godhead—all but openly crying aloud to everyone who lends an ear, that it is possible for you to be perfect in knowledge, provided you do not believe in the Only-begotten God as being truly God, do not honor the Son as the Father is honored, reckon Him to be not a Son but a creature according to His nature, not Lord, not Master, but a slave and one subject to authority.

For it is to this that the end of their counsel looks, even though the blasphemy be cloaked in other words.

As being other—«for He is simple and uncompounded, with nothing other alongside Him»—for He is one and alone unbegotten, He would Himself be an unbegotten essence.

Our teacher, therefore, having perceived the harm that arises from the deceit for those who have been beguiled—namely, that the assent to His not being truly God is a transgression of the very confession into the Lord, into which conclusion the logical consequence of these words overturns the doctrine—for this reason does not dispute that unbegottenness is not to be applied to God as a part, himself also confessing the divine to be simple and without quantity and without magnitude and uncompounded; but that this appellation ought not to be said of Him by way of conception, this he both disputes and demonstrates.

Not abiding by these points, the treatise-writer once again sets against us his own wisdom in the second of his books, contending against what has been said concerning conception.

It would now be the fitting time to make mention of this very construction toward this end, having first prefaced only thus much.

There is not in human nature a power for the exact comprehension of the essence of God.

But perhaps it is a small thing to affirm this only of human power; rather, one who says that even the incorporeal creation is too small to contain and comprehend in its knowledge the boundless nature will not altogether miss the mark.

It is possible to understand this from examples among ourselves: that whereas there are many and diverse creatures that have received their life through the flesh—some winged, some land-dwelling—and whereas that which rises above the clouds by the power of its wings and that which is settled in the hollows and lurks there, if they be judged in relation to one another, the aerial creature would seem to stand not a little apart from the land creature; yet if the comparison be made with the stars and the fixed sphere, that which travels aloft through flight will be reckoned to be separated from heaven no less than the animals about the earth.

So likewise the power of the angels, when compared with ours, seems to excel by very much, because, with no sense-perception troubling it, it reaches out after lofty things with a bare and unveiled cognitive power;

but if their comprehension too be examined in relation to the majesty of Him who truly is, perhaps he who dares to say that even their power stands not far from our own littleness in respect of the divine comprehension will not venture beyond what is likely.

For great and impassable is the interval by which the uncreated nature is walled off from the created essence.

The latter is bounded, the former has no bound;

the latter is encompassed by its own measures according to what pleased the wisdom of its Maker, but the measure of the former is infinity;

the latter is coextended with a certain dimensional extension, and is confined by time and place, whereas the former transcends every conception of dimension, and in whatever direction one may cast the mind, in that very direction it eludes his curious search;

in this life it is possible to conceive both a beginning and an end for the things that are, but the blessedness that is above creation admits neither beginning nor end, but, being above what is signified in each, it is by nature ever unchangingly the same and standing upon itself, not journeying dimensionally from one thing to another in its life;

for neither does it come to be in living by participation in another life—so that consequently both an end and a beginning of the participation would be conceived—but it is itself that very thing which life is, being active in itself, and it becomes neither greater nor less by addition or subtraction.

For increase toward the greater has no room in the infinite, and the naturally impassible is unreceptive of any conception of diminution.

...unfolding the seasons within themselves; and beholding these things, we do not doubt that the phenomena through which we see are real, yet we are as far from comprehending the account of the essence of each of the things that are as if we had not from the outset even recognized the appearance through sense-perception;

so also we know that the Maker of the world exists, but we do not deny that we are ignorant of the account of His essence.

But let those who boast of knowing these things first speak concerning the lower matters: what they suppose the heavenly body to be, and what the mechanism that whirls round continually, and in what its motion takes place; for whatever one may reason out in his mind, his reasoning as it advances will assuredly end in what is unmanageable and incomprehensible.

For if one should say that another body of like shape, fitted about it as in a mould, controls its course, so that, ever being bent back in its course, it winds round itself in like manner, being prevented by the necessity of that which encompasses it from being carried off toward a straight line—how will he say that these bodies endure, not being consumed in one another by the continual friction? And how, moreover, is the motion effected, when two bodies of like nature are fitted to one another in a mould, whenever one of them remains motionless? For, by the immobility of that which grasps around it, the inner one, being pressed tight, will assuredly be unable to accomplish its own activity.

And what, moreover, is it that establishes the firmness of that which encompasses, so that it remains unshaken, not being agitated by the motion of that which is fitted within it? And if, according to the curiosity of the mind, some seat be supposed to belong to that too, which preserves its position in fixity, then assuredly the argument, advancing according to logical consequence, will busy itself about that also—a base for the base, and another for this, and yet another for the next—and thus, the inquiry ascending through similar steps, it will be carried off toward infinity and will end in an impasse, as it examines ever again what lies beyond the body laid down for the constitution of the universe, so that the argument comes to rest nowhere, seeking the enclosure of that which ever encompasses.

And according to the vain supposition of those who have philosophized about these things, a certain void is poured around the heavenly outer surfaces, and the whirling of the universe, gliding upon this, turns back upon itself, finding no resistance from anything solid capable of halting and checking, by counter-resistance, the motion advancing in a circle.

What, then, is that void, which they say is neither body nor concept, and up to what point does it extend, and what is it that succeeds it? And what kinship has the compact and resistant with that void and insubstantial thing? What is it that mediates between things so different in nature? And how, by means of things of diverse nature, does so great a harmony of the universe hold together? And what would one say the heaven itself is—some mixture of the elements it contains, or one out of them all, or something else besides these? And what are the stars themselves, and whence do they flash forth their radiance—what it is, and how it is constituted? And what is the account of their difference in beauty and in magnitude? And what are those inner seven circles, carried round with a motion contrary to the whole—by what necessity are they driven? And what is that immaterial and ethereal fire, and the air poured through the midst, becoming as it were a partition-wall between the heating and consuming nature and the moist and easily consumed? And how is the earth laid down beneath the whole at the lowest point? What is it that holds its position secure in fixity? What is it that props up its downward tendency? If someone should examine us on these and such things, will there be anyone so lofty in mind as to promise the knowledge of such matters? For nothing else is left as an answer for the right-minded than this: that He who made all things in wisdom alone knows the account of the creation.

But we by faith understand that the ages were framed by the word of God, as the Apostle says.

If, then, the lower creation, which reaches down to our own organs of sense, is beyond the measures of human knowledge, how is He who by His will alone constituted the whole within our comprehension? These things are vanity and a lying madness, as the prophet says—to suppose that the comprehension of things incomprehensible is possible for anyone.

Thus one may see little infants, on account of the ignorance that comes from their age, at once playing and being in earnest.

For often, when a ray of the sun has flowed in upon them through a window, being overjoyed at the beauty, they rush toward the phenomenon, and eagerly contend to carry the ray about in their hands, and fight with one another, and clutch at the light, thinking, as it were, to have bound the radiance fast within the encircling of their fingers;

but when the interlacing of their fingers is undone, the grasp of the ray, having slipped through their hands, provides laughter and clapping to the infants.

So also the children of our generation, as the parable says, sit in the marketplaces and play;

beholding, as it were, a kind of ray and warmth flowing forth from the sun's nature and shining upon their souls with wonders, they do not marvel at the grace and worship Him who is thereby conceived, but, overstepping what can be contained by the soul, with the grips of their sophisms they clutch at the intangible and think to grasp it by their syllogisms—if indeed they do think so;

but when the argument has parted and unfolded the interweaving of the sophisms, there is found by those who have understanding nothing at all of what had been seized.

Thus, trifling in a petty and infantile way with things beyond their power, they shut up, as it were with a childish palm, the incomprehensible nature of God within the few syllables of unbegottenness, and plead the cause of their derangement, and suppose the divine to be of such magnitude and such a kind as to be capable of being enclosed by human reasoning within a single appellation; and they pretend to follow the utterances of the saints, yet do not fear to exalt themselves above those very ones.

For the things which none of the blessed men is shown to have said—of whom any account is recorded and borne in the divine books—these things these men, as the Apostle says, though understanding neither what they say nor the things about which they contend, nevertheless both affirm that they themselves know, and boast that they lead others into the knowledge.

And on account of this they insist that the Only-begotten God has not truly comprehended what He is said to be.

For the necessity of their syllogisms commands this.

How wretched in their cleverness! How unfortunate and ruinous for them is this superfluous and elaborate philosophy!

Who so eagerly deserts to the pit as these men, who with toil and eagerness have dug for themselves the cistern of blasphemy? By how great a measure of the Christians' hope have they cut themselves off!

by how vast a chasm they have walled themselves off from the faith that saves;

how far they have banished themselves from the bosom of Abraham, the father of faith.

That man, Abraham—if, following the sublime insight of the Apostle, one should change the manner of speech and grasp allegorically the meaning of the narrative (the historical truth of course still remaining intact)—went out by a divine command from his own land and from his own kindred, a departure befitting a prophetic man who was pressing onward toward the contemplation of God.

For it does not seem to me that any change of place can afford the apprehension of things which are found only by the intellect;

rather, having come forth out of himself and out of his own land—I mean the lowly and earthbound way of thinking—and having lifted his mind, as far as was possible, above the common bounds of nature, and having left behind the soul's kinship with the senses, so that, troubled by none of the things that appear to sense, his mind was not dimmed in its apprehension of things invisible—with no sound of hearing ringing about him nor any sight leading his understanding astray among things visible—walking, as the Apostle says, by faith and not by sight, he was raised to so great a height by the sublimity of his knowledge that he came to be regarded as the very standard of human perfection, knowing God to such a degree as it was possible for this brief and perishable power, stretched to its utmost, to contain.

Wherefore also the Lord of all creation, having become as it were the patriarch's own discovery, is peculiarly named 'the God of Abraham.'

Yet nonetheless, what does the Scripture say concerning him? That he went out, not knowing whither he was going—nor was he even permitted to learn the name of the One he loved, and yet he was neither vexed nor ashamed at this ignorance.

This very thing, then, was for him also a sure guide toward the object of his search: namely, that in his thoughts concerning God he let himself be led by none of the things ready to hand for apprehension, nor ever allowed his understanding, having leaned upon any one of the things that are comprehended, to halt in its journey toward that which lies beyond things known.

He made this the unerring and manifest sign of the knowledge of God: to believe that God is better and higher than every mark by which He might be known.

For 'earth and ashes' seems to me to signify at once that which is lifeless and that which is barren; and thus he becomes a law of faith for the life that comes after, teaching by his own history those who draw near to God that there is no other way to approach God unless faith mediates and, by itself, joins the seeking mind to the incomprehensible Nature.

For having abandoned the meddlesome curiosity that comes from knowledge, 'Abraham believed God,' it says, 'and it was reckoned to him for righteousness.'

'But it was not written for his sake alone,' says the Apostle, 'but for our sakes also'—that God reckons faith, not knowledge, unto righteousness for men.

For knowledge has, as it were, a certain empirical disposition, assenting only to what is known; but the faith of Christians is not so;

for it is the substance not of things known, but of things hoped for.

But that which is firmly held in possession is not hoped for;

'For what a man has,' it says, 'why does he yet hope for it?' But that which eludes our apprehension, faith makes our own, guaranteeing by its own steadfastness the thing that does not appear.

For thus the Apostle speaks concerning the man of faith, that 'he endured as seeing Him who is invisible.'

Vain, therefore, is he who says that by knowledge—the knowledge which vainly puffs up—it is possible to come to know the divine essence.

Hear the Preacher counseling you not to utter a word before the face of God, for 'God,' he says, 'is in heaven above, and thou upon the earth below.'

And he shows, I think, by the mutual relation—or rather the distance—between these elements, how much higher the divine Nature is than the reach of human reasonings.

For by as much as the stars are higher than the touch of our fingers, by so much—nay, by many times more—does the Nature that transcends all mind tower above earthly reasonings.

Having learned, then, how great is the difference of nature, let us in quietness abide within our own proper bounds.

For it is at once safer and more reverent to believe the majesty of God to be greater than we can conceive, than, having circumscribed His glory by certain surmises, to suppose that there is nothing beyond that.

And in another way, too, one might say it is safe to leave the divine essence unmeddled with, as being unspeakable and beyond the touch of human reasonings.

For to make conjectures about things obscure, and to search out by the inventions of human reasonings some knowledge of things hidden, gives passage and sequence even to false suppositions; since conjecture about things unknown will often take not only the true, but the false itself, for true.

But the disciple of the Gospels and of prophecy believes that He who Is exists—both from what he has heard from the saints, and through the fair harmony of things visible and the works of Providence—yet does not inquire what He is or how He is, as being both unprofitable and unattainable; and so he gives falsehood no entrance against the truth.

For in busy meddling, error too finds room; but when all such meddlesome curiosity is at rest, the necessity of erring is likewise wholly cut off along with it.

And that this saying is true, one may learn from the following.

How is it that the heresies of the churches have strayed into manifold and diverse suppositions concerning God, one man deceiving himself by one motion of thought, another by another? How is it that these very men of whom our discourse treats have slid down into this pit of impiety? Was it not safer for all, according to the counsel of Wisdom, not to seek out things too deep, but in quietness to keep secure and inviolate for themselves the simple deposit of faith? But since the nothingness of men has altogether taken it upon itself to trespass rashly upon things beyond conception and to fortify with dogmas the fabrications of their vain conceit, hence has come the long catalogue of those who war against the truth; and these very men of whom we speak have shown themselves the dogmatists of deception—men who reduce the Divine to a certain circumscription, all but openly making an idol of their own surmise, in that they deify this notion which they conceive to be implied in 'ingeneracy,' as though it were not something contemplated according to some concept in the divine Nature, but were itself God or the essence of God.

They ought to have looked to the choir of the saints—I mean the prophets and patriarchs, in whom the word of truth spoke in many portions and in many ways—and afterward to those who became eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word, and to have stood in awe of the trustworthiness of the things testified by the Spirit through them, abiding within the bounds of their teaching and knowledge, and not presuming upon those things which the apprehension of the saints did not touch.

For those men, taking God—who up to then was unknown to human life because of the error concerning idols that then prevailed—made Him manifest and known to men both from the wonders which are displayed in the things wrought by Him, and from the names by which the manifold character of the divine power is apprehended, thus leading men by the hand toward an understanding of the divine Nature, and making known to men only the majesty among the things contemplated concerning God;

but the account of His essence, as neither possible to be contained nor bringing any gain to those who meddle with it, they left unspoken and unexamined.

For indeed they recounted that all other things also came into being—heaven, earth, sea, times, ages, and the creation contained within these—but what each of these is, and how, and whence, they passed over in silence;

so also concerning God, they counsel us to be persuaded that He is, and that He becomes a rewarder to those who seek Him out; but His very Nature, as being above every name, they neither named nor were about to name.