Letters & Polemics (CSEL) 36

Concerning the obscure things of nature, which we perceive to have been made by God the almighty Maker, we must treat not by affirming but by inquiring, chiefly in those books which divine authority commends to us, in which the rashness of asserting an uncertain and doubtful opinion hardly escapes the charge of sacrilege; yet this doubt of inquiry ought not to exceed the bounds of the catholic faith. And since many heretics have been accustomed to draw the exposition of the divine Scriptures toward their own opinion, which is beside the faith of catholic teaching, before treating of this book the catholic faith must be briefly set forth. And it is this:

that God the almighty Father made and established the whole creation through his only-begotten Son, that is, his Wisdom and Power, consubstantial and coeternal with himself, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, who is likewise consubstantial and coeternal. This Trinity, therefore, catholic teaching bids us believe to be called one God, and to have made and created all things that are, insofar as they are; so that every creature, whether intellectual or corporeal — or, as may be said more briefly according to the words of the divine Scriptures, whether invisible or visible — is not born of God, but was made by God out of nothing: and that there is nothing in it which pertains to the Trinity, save that the Trinity founded it and it was founded.

Wherefore it is not lawful to say or believe that the whole creation is either consubstantial with God or coeternal. And that all things which God made are 'very good'; but that evils are not natural; rather, that everything which is called evil is either sin or the penalty of sin. And that there is no sin save the perverse assent of the free will, when we are inclined toward those things which righteousness forbids and from which it is free to abstain; that is, not in the things themselves, but in the unlawful use of them. But the use of things is lawful when the soul abides in the law of God and is subject to the one God in fullest love, and administers the other things subject to it without cupidity or lust — that is, according to the commandment of God.

For thus, without difficulty and misery, and with the highest ease and blessedness, it will administer them. But the penalty of sin is when the soul is tormented by those very creatures which do not serve it, because it does not itself serve God: which creatures obeyed it, so long as it itself obeyed God. And so fire is not evil, because it is a creature of God; but nevertheless that we are burned by it belongs to our weakness, by the desert of sin. And those are called natural sins which must needs be committed before the mercy of God, after we have fallen into this life through the sin of free will.

And that man is renewed through the law of Christ our Lord, when the very ineffable and immutable Wisdom of God deigned to take upon himself full and whole manhood, and to be born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, to be crucified, buried, and to rise again, and to ascend into heaven — which has already been done — and to come to judge the living and the dead at the end of the age, with the resurrection of the dead in the flesh, which is proclaimed as yet to come. That the Holy Spirit has been given to those who believe in him. That there has been established by him the mother Church, which is called catholic, from the fact that it is universally perfect and halts in nothing and is diffused throughout the whole world. That former sins have been remitted to the penitent, and eternal life and the kingdom of heaven promised.

According to this faith, we must consider what things may be inquired into and disputed in this book. 'In the beginning God made heaven and earth.' Four modes of expounding the law are handed down by certain expositors of the Scriptures, whose names can be uttered in Greek but defined and explained in Latin: according to history, according to allegory, according to analogy, according to aetiology. History is when a deed done is recounted, whether divinely or humanly; allegory, when things said figuratively are understood; analogy, when the agreement of the Old and New Testaments is demonstrated; aetiology, when the causes of things said and done are rendered. This, therefore, which is written:

'In the beginning God made heaven and earth,' — it may be inquired whether it is to be taken only according to history, or whether it also signifies something figuratively, and how it agrees with the Gospel, and for what cause this book was thus begun. But according to history it is inquired what 'in the beginning' is — that is, whether in the beginning of time, or in the beginning, in the very Wisdom of God, since the Son of God also called himself the beginning, when it was said to him, 'Who are you?' and he said, 'The beginning, who also speak to you.' For there is a beginning without beginning, and there is a beginning with another beginning. The beginning without beginning is the Father alone; therefore we believe all things to be from one beginning. But the Son is a beginning in such a way as to be from the Father.

The very first intellectual creature also may be called the beginning to those things of which it is the head, which God made. For since the head may rightly be called the beginning, in that gradation the apostle did not say that the woman alone is the head of anyone. For he said that the man is the head of the woman, and Christ the head of the man, and God the head of Christ; thus the creature is subjoined to the Creator. Or was it therefore said 'in the beginning' because heaven and earth were made first? Or could not heaven and earth have been made first among the creatures, if the angels and all the intellectual powers were made first, since we must needs believe that the angels also are a creature of God and were made by him? For the prophet enumerated the angels also in the hundred and forty-eighth psalm, when he said: 'He commanded, and they were made';

'He commanded, and they were created.' But if the angels were made first, it may be inquired whether they were made in time, or before all time, or at the outset of time. If in time, then time already existed before the angels came to be; and since time itself is also a creature, it necessarily begins that we must accept something as having been made before the angels. But if we say they were made at the outset of time, so that time began with them, then it must be said to be false, as some hold, that time began with heaven and earth. But if the angels were made before time, it must be inquired how it was said in what follows: 'And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, that they may shine upon the earth and divide between the day and the night;'

'and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years.' For here it may seem that times then began, when heaven and the lights of heaven began to run their ordered courses. But if this is true, how could there have been days before there was time, if time took its origin from the course of the lights, which are said to have been made on the fourth day? Or was this arrangement of days ordered according to the custom of human frailty, by the law of narrating and of insinuating sublime things humbly to the humble, whereby the very speech of the narrator cannot but have some parts first, some in the middle, and some last? Or was it said 'that there be lights' in the sense of these times which men measure by intervals of delays in the motion of a body?

For these times, if there were no motion of bodies, would not exist at all; and they themselves are more manifest to men. But if we admit this, it must be inquired whether, besides the motion of bodies, there can be time in the motion of an incorporeal creature — such as is the soul, or the mind itself, which is certainly moved in its thoughts, and in that very motion has one thing prior and another posterior, which cannot be understood without an interval of time. And if we accept this, time can be understood to have existed even before heaven and earth, if the angels were made before heaven and earth. For there was already a creature which by incorporeal motions passed time; and rightly is time understood to be together with it, as in a soul which through the bodily senses has become accustomed to bodily motions.

But perhaps it is not so among the princes and the supereminent creatures. But however this may be — for it is a most secret matter and impenetrable to human conjectures — this at least must be accepted in faith, even though it exceeds the measure of our thought: that every creature has a beginning, and that time itself is a creature, and by this that it too has a beginning and is not coeternal with the Creator. Heaven and earth may also seem to have been put for the whole creation, so that both this visible ethereal firmament is called heaven, and that invisible creature of the supereminent powers; and again, earth is all the lower part of the world with the animals by which it is inhabited.

Or is heaven called all the sublime and invisible creation, and earth all the visible, so that in this way too that which is said, 'In the beginning God made heaven and earth,' may be understood as the whole creation? For perhaps not incongruously, in comparison with the invisible creature, all that is visible is called earth, so that the former is designated by the name of heaven; since the soul also, which is invisible, when it swelled with the love of visible things and was exalted by the attainment of them, was called earth, as it is written: 'Why is earth and ashes proud?' But it may be inquired whether he called heaven and earth all things already distinguished and composed, or the first formless matter of the universe, which was arranged into these formed and

beautiful natures, arranged, when God ineffably commanded, into these formed and shapely natures — did he designate this by the name of heaven and earth? For although we have read it written, 'who made the world of formless matter,' yet we cannot say that this matter itself, of whatever kind it be, was not made by him, from whom we confess and believe all things to be; so that even the arrangement and ordering of each several thing, formed and distinguished, may be called the world, but the matter itself heaven and earth, being called as it were the seed of heaven and earth — and heaven and earth as it were confused and mingled, fit to receive from God the Maker the forms to be taken on. Thus far let this be inquired concerning what was said: 'In the beginning God made heaven and earth'; for none of these things could be rashly affirmed.

'And the earth was invisible and unformed, and darkness was over the abyss; and the Spirit of God was borne over the water.' By the heretics who oppose the Old Testament, a calumny is wont to be raised against this passage, when they say: How did God make heaven and earth in the beginning, if the earth already existed? not understanding that this was subjoined in order that it might be explained what kind of earth it was, concerning which it had already been said, 'God made heaven and earth.' Thus, then, it must be taken: In the beginning God made heaven and earth; but this earth, which God made, was invisible and unformed, until by the same God it was separated and, out of confusion, constituted in a fixed order of things.

Or is it better understood thus: that in this further account the same matter of things is again commended, which above was designated by the name of heaven and earth, so that this be the sense: In the beginning God made heaven and earth; but this which was called heaven and earth was earth invisible and unformed, and darkness over the abyss; that is, that which was called heaven and earth was a certain confused matter, out of which the world — which consists of two greatest parts, namely heaven and earth — might be fashioned, the elements being arranged and form received? Which confusion of matter could thus be conveyed to popular understanding, if the earth were said to be invisible and unformed, or disordered, or unprepared, and darkness over the abyss, that is,

over the vastest depth: which depth is perhaps so named from this, that on account of its very formlessness it can be penetrated by no one's understanding. 'And darkness was over the face of the abyss.' Was the abyss beneath and the darkness above, as though places were already distinct? Or, since the confusion of matter is still being set forth, which in Greek is also called 'chaos,' was it therefore said, 'Darkness was over the abyss,' because there was no light? which, if it existed, would surely be above, because it would be more eminent and would illuminate those things which were subject to it. And in truth, whoever diligently considers what darkness is, finds it to be nothing other than the absence of light. Thus, therefore, it was said, 'Darkness was over the abyss,' as if it had been said:

there was no light over the abyss. Wherefore this matter, which by the subsequent operation of God is ordered and distinguished into the forms of things, was called earth invisible and unformed and a depth lacking light: which was called above by the name of heaven and earth, as it were the seed, as has been said, of heaven and earth — unless indeed by saying 'heaven and earth' he wished first to set forth the totality, so that afterwards, the matter of the world being intimated, he might set out its parts. 'And the Spirit of God was borne over the water.' Nowhere had he said, 'God made water'; nor yet is it in any way to be believed that God did not make water and that it already existed before he had established anything.

For he it is of whom are all things, through whom are all things, in whom are all things, as the apostle says. Therefore God made water also, and to believe otherwise is a great error. Why then was it not said that God made water? Or did he again wish to call by the name of water that same matter which he had designated by the name of heaven and earth, or of the invisible and unformed earth and the abyss? For why should it not also be called water, if it could be called earth, when as yet there was neither water distinguished and formed, nor earth, nor anything else? But perhaps first it was called heaven and earth, second unformed earth and an abyss lacking light, third — not incongruously — water:

so that by the first name, that of the very universe on account of which the matter was made out of absolutely nothing, it should be called the matter of heaven and earth; by the second, that of the unformed earth and the abyss, its formlessness should be intimated, because among all the elements earth is the most formless and shines less than the rest; by the third, that of water, should be signified the matter subjected to the work of the Artificer; for water is more mobile than earth. And therefore, on account of the ease of working and the readier motion, the matter subjected to the Artificer was rather to be called water than earth. And air indeed is more mobile than water; and the ether is not absurdly believed or perceived to be more mobile than air itself; but by the name of air or ether the matter would be less fittingly called.

For these elements are rather believed to have the power of acting, but earth and water of being acted upon. But if that is obscure, this at least I think is most manifest, that the wind moves water and some earthly things; but wind is air in motion, and as it were fluctuating. Therefore, since air manifestly moves water, but whence air itself is moved so as to become wind is obscure, who would doubt that it is more fitting to call by the name of water the matter which is moved than by the name of air, which moves? But to be moved is to be acted upon; to move is to act. To this is added that those things which the earth brings forth are watered by water, that they may be able to be born and to grow, so that this same water seems almost to be converted into these very things being born.

Wherefore the matter would more fittingly be called by the name of water, since it was intimated as subjected to the work of the Artificer on account of its mobility and its conversion into whatever bodies are being born, than by the name of air, in which mobility alone could be observed, but the other qualities, by which the matter would be more expressly signified, would have been lacking. So that this be the whole sense: In the beginning God made heaven and earth, that is, the matter which could receive the form of heaven and earth. Which matter was earth invisible and unformed, that is, a formless depth lacking light: which nevertheless, since it was subjected to the moving and working Artificer, was for this very reason — that it yields to the worker — also named water.

In this signification of the matter, then, its end was first intimated — that is, for what it was made; second, its very formlessness; third, its servitude under the Artificer and its subjection. And so, first, heaven and earth — for it was for this that the matter was made; second, earth invisible and unformed, and darkness over the abyss, that is, that very formlessness without light — whence also it was called earth invisible; third, water subjected to the Spirit for receiving disposition and forms. Therefore the Spirit of God was borne over the water, that we might understand the Spirit as working, but the water as that whence it worked, that is, the fabricable matter.

For when we say these three names of one thing — the matter of the world, formless matter, fabricable matter — to the first of these names 'heaven and earth' is well joined; to the second, obscurity, confusion, depth, darkness; to the third, ease of yielding, over which the Spirit of the Artificer is now borne for working. 'And the Spirit of God was borne over the water.' It was not borne over it as oil over water, or water over earth — that is, as though it were contained; but, if examples are to be taken for this from visible things, as this light of the sun or moon is borne over those bodies which it illuminates on the earth; for it is not contained by them, but, though contained together with the heaven, is borne over these.

Likewise we must beware of supposing that the Spirit of God was borne over matter as though across intervals of space, but rather by a certain efficient and fashioning power, so that what it is borne over is made and fashioned—just as the will of a craftsman is borne over the wood or over whatever thing is subjected to it for working upon, or even over the very members of his own body which he moves for working. And this comparison, though it is already more excellent than any bodily thing, is yet slight and next to nothing for understanding the superior bearing of the Spirit of God over the matter of the world subjected to it for working. But among those things which can in any way at all be grasped by men, we find no clearer or nearer comparison to the reality of which we are speaking.

Wherefore in reflection of this kind that precept will best be held which is written: Blessing the Lord, exalt him as much as ever you can, for he will still surpass. But let this be said if in this place 'the Spirit of God' is taken as the Holy Spirit, whom we venerate in that ineffable and unchangeable Trinity itself. Yet it can also be understood otherwise, so that by 'the Spirit of God' we understand a vital creature by which this whole visible world and all corporeal things are held together and moved, to which God almighty granted a certain power of serving him in working upon the things that are begotten.

Since this spirit is better than any ethereal body—because every invisible creature precedes every visible creature—it is not absurdly called the Spirit of God. For what among the things he founded is not God's, seeing that even concerning the earth itself it is said: The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, and that which is written with a universal embrace: For all things are yours, O Lord, who love souls? But this spirit can then be so understood, if what has been said—

In the beginning God made heaven and earth—we understand to have been said only of the visible creation, so that over the matter of visible things, at the outset of their fashioning, there was borne an invisible spirit, which nevertheless was itself also a creature, that is, not God, but a nature made and established by God. But if the matter of the whole creation—that is, of the intellectual, the animal, and the corporeal—is believed to be signified by that word 'water,' then in no way can 'the Spirit of God' in this place be understood except as that unchangeable and holy Spirit, who was borne over the matter of all things which God made and founded.

A third opinion about this spirit can arise, namely that it be believed that by the name 'spirit' the element of air is meant, so that thus the four elements are intimated, out of which this visible world arises: namely heaven and earth and water and air—not because they were already distinguished and adorned, but because in the though formless confusion of that matter they were nonetheless prefigured as about to emerge; which formless confusion was designated by the name of darkness and the deep.

But whichever of these opinions be true, it must be believed that of all things which have come into being, both those which are seen and those which are not seen—not with respect to defects, which are contrary to nature, but with respect to the natures themselves—God is the author and founder, and that there is absolutely no creature which does not have from him the beginning and perfection of its kind and substance. And God said: Let there be light. And light was made. That God said 'Let there be light' we ought not to take as a voice sent forth from lungs, nor by tongue and teeth. These are the thoughts of carnal men; but to be wise according to the flesh is death. Rather, ineffably was it said: Let there be light.

But whether this which was said was said to the only-begotten Son, or whether that very thing which was said is the only-begotten Son who is called the Word of God, through whom all things were made—this can be asked, provided only that impiety be absent, namely that we believe the Word of God, the only-begotten Son, to be as it were a voice uttered such as is done by us. But the Word of God, through whom all things were made, neither began to be nor will cease to be; but being born without a beginning it is coeternal with the Father. Wherefore this which was said, 'Let there be light,' if it both began and ceased to be said, was rather a word spoken to the Son than the very Son himself.

And yet even this must be taken ineffably, lest a carnal image creep into the soul and disturb the pious spiritual understanding; for that anything should begin and cease in the nature of God, if it be taken properly, is a rash and headlong opinion—yet one to be very humanely conceded to the carnal and to little ones, not as to those who will remain in it, but as to those who are to rise up from it. For whatever God is said to begin and to cease must in no way be understood in his own nature, but in his creature, which obeys him in wondrous ways. And God said: Let there be light. Was it that light which lies open to these fleshly eyes, or some hidden light which we are not granted to see through this body?

And if hidden, whether corporeal—which stretches through intervals of space, perhaps in the higher parts of the world—or incorporeal, such as is in the soul, to which is referred the judgment of avoiding and seeking things from the senses of the body, a judgment which even the souls of beasts do not lack; or that higher light which appears through reasoning, from which begins everything that has been created? For whatever light it signifies, we must nevertheless take it to have been made and created, not that light by which the very Wisdom of God shines, which is not created but born—lest God be thought to have been without light before he founded this light of which we now treat. For of this, as the very words sufficiently teach, this is affirmed, that it was made. And he said, it says, Let there be light. And light was made.

One is the light born of God, and another the light which God made. The light born of God is the very Wisdom of God, but the light that was made is any changeable thing, whether incorporeal or corporeal. Now it is wont to trouble people how corporeal light could have existed before there was a heaven and the luminaries of heaven, which are set forth after this one—as though indeed it could easily be perceived by man, or in any way at all be perceived, whether there is any light beyond the heaven which is nevertheless distinguished and diffused through intervals of space and embraces the world. But since here it is permitted also to understand incorporeal light, if we say that not only the visible creation but the whole creation is set forth in this book, what need is there to linger in this controversy?

And perhaps that which men inquire—when the angels were made—is signified by this light itself, most briefly indeed, yet most fittingly and most becomingly. And God saw the light, that it was good. This sentence ought to be understood as signifying not, as it were, the gladness of some unwonted good, but the approval of the work. For what is more fittingly said of God, so far as it can be said among men, than when it is thus put: 'he said,' 'it was made,' 'it pleased'—so that in that which he said his command may be understood, in that which was made his power, in that which pleased his kindness; even as ineffable things had to be told through a man to men, so that they might be able to profit all? And God divided between the light and the darkness.

From this it may be understood with how great ease of the divine work these things are said to have been effected. For there is no one who would so suppose the light to have been made as though it were confounded with the darkness and on that account afterwards needed a separation; but by that very fact by which the light was made, there also ensued the division between light and darkness. For what fellowship has light with darkness? God therefore divided between light and darkness, because he made the light, whose absence is called darkness. Now there is a difference between light and darkness, just as there is between clothing and nakedness, or the full and the empty, and the like. Now in how many ways light can be understood has been said above, to which the contrary privations can be named darkness.

For one is the light which is seen by these bodily eyes, being itself also corporeal, such as that of the sun and moon and stars and anything of this kind, to which darkness is contrary when some place lacks that light. Another light is the sentient life, able to discern the things that are referred through the body to the soul's judgment, that is: white and black, sonorous and hoarse, sweet-smelling and foul-smelling, sweet and bitter, hot and cold, and the rest of this kind. For one is the light which is perceived by the eyes, and another is that which is done through the eyes so that it may be perceived. For the former is in the body, but the latter, although it receives through the body the things which it perceives, is nevertheless in the soul.

Contrary to this are darknesses, a certain insensibility, or if it is better called insensuality, that is, not to perceive, although things be brought forward which could be perceived, if in that life there were this light whereby perception occurs. And this is not when the ministrations of the body are lacking, as in the blind or deaf—for in the souls of these there is this light of which we now treat, but the instruments of the body are lacking—nor in that way in which in silence the voice is not heard, when both this light is in the soul and the instruments of the body are present, but nothing that could be perceived is brought forward. Therefore he who does not perceive for these causes does not lack this light;

but rather when such a power is not in the soul—which is then not even wont to be called soul but only life, such as is said to be in the vine and the tree and in whatever plants, if indeed they can in any way be persuaded to have such a soul or such a life—which some heretics, erring too greatly, judge not only to perceive through a body, that is, to see and hear and discern heat and fire, but even to understand reason and to know our thoughts; but of these there is another question. Insensibility, therefore, is the darkness of this light by which each thing is perceived, when any given life does not have the very power of perceiving. And that this is fittingly called light, whoever grants that it is rightly called light by which anything whatever is made manifest, grants also this. But when we say:

'it is manifest that this is sonorous, it is manifest that this is sweet, it is manifest that this is cold,' and whatever of this kind we attain through the corporeal senses—this light, by which these things are manifest, is assuredly within, in the soul, although the things which are thus perceived are brought forward through the body. A third kind of light can be understood in creatures, that by which we reason. Contrary to this are darknesses, irrationality, such as are the souls of beasts.

Whether therefore this sentence would have us understand ethereal light, or sensory light in which animals share, or rational light which both angels and men have, to have been made by God first in the nature of things, it must be accepted that God divided between light and darkness by that very fact by which light was made, because one thing is light, another are those privations of light which God ordained among the contrary darknesses. For it is not said that God made darkness, since God made the species themselves, not the privations, which pertain to nothing—whence by God the craftsman all things were made; yet these privations too we understand to have been ordained by him, when it is said:

And God divided between light and darkness—lest even those very privations should not have their own order, God ruling and administering all things; just as in singing the interpositions of silences, at fixed and measured intervals, although they are privations of sounds, are nevertheless well ordered by those who know how to sing and contribute something to the sweetness of the whole song; and shadows in paintings set off whatever things are more prominent, and please not by their appearance but by their order. For God is not the author of our vices either; but he is nevertheless their ordainer, when he sets sinners in their place and compels them to suffer the things they deserve. To this pertains that the sheep are set on the right hand, but the goats on the left. Some things therefore God both makes and ordains;

but some things he only ordains. The just he both makes and ordains; sinners, however, insofar as they are sinners, he does not make but only ordains, seeing that when he sets these on the right and those on the left, and commands them to go into eternal fire, this pertains to the order of merits. Thus he both makes and ordains the species and natures themselves; but the privations of species and defects of natures he does not make but only ordains. Thus he said: Let there be light. And light was made; he did not say: Let there be darkness. And darkness was made. Of these therefore he made the one, the other he did not make, yet he ordained both, when God divided between light and darkness. Thus by his making, the individual things are beautiful, and by his ordaining, all things are beautiful.

And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. Since 'light' is the name of some thing, and 'day' likewise, and 'darkness' and 'night' are each a name, ought it so to be said that names were imposed on things in such a way that the thing on which a name was imposed had also—for otherwise it could not—to be expressed by another name too? And was it thus said, 'God called the light day,' so that it could indifferently be said also conversely, 'God called the day light,' and 'he called the night darkness'? What shall we answer if someone should thus inquire of us: Was the name 'day' imposed on the light, or was the name 'light' imposed on the day? For these two, insofar as they are uttered by articulate voice to signify things, are certainly names. In this manner it can also be inquired concerning the other two:

Was the name 'night' imposed on the darkness, or was the name 'darkness' imposed on the night? And indeed, as Scripture prescribes, it is manifest that the name of the light was said to be day, and the name of the darkness was said to be night. For when he said: God made the light and divided between light and darkness, the matter was not yet of appellations; afterwards the appellations 'day' and 'night' were applied, since without doubt those too, 'light' and 'darkness,' are appellations, signifying certain things just as 'day' and 'night' do. Is this then to be taken so, that a thing which received a name could not be expressed otherwise except by some name? Or rather is this 'calling' to be taken as the distinction itself? For not all light is day, nor all darkness night;

but light and darkness, ordered and distinguished between themselves in fixed alternations, are called by the names of day and night. For every appellation avails for distinction: whence even the noun (nomen), which marks a thing, was called as it were a mark (notamen); and to mark is to distinguish and to aid the learner in discerning. Perhaps therefore this very 'dividing between light and darkness' is this 'calling the light day and the darkness night,' so that this ordaining of these should be the same as this naming of them. Or do these appellations mean to signify to us which light he called and which darkness? As if he said: God made the light and divided between light and darkness.

But by 'light' I mean 'day' and by 'darkness' I mean 'night,' lest you understand some other light which is not day, and lest you understand some other darkness which is not night. For if every light could be understood as day and all darkness were reckoned by the name of night, perhaps there would be no need to say: And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. Likewise it can be asked which day he means and which night. If he would have that day taken which the rising of the sun begins and its setting closes, and that night which stretches from the sun's setting until its rising, I do not find how they could have existed before the luminaries of heaven were made. Or could the very spaces of hours and times, even without the distinction of brightness and shadow, already be so called?

And how does this alternation, which is signified by the name of day and night, fall upon that rational light—if this was signified—or the sensory light? Or were these intimated not according to what happens, but according to what can happen, since error can befall reason too, and a certain dullness the sense? And there was made evening, and there was made morning, one day. 'Day' is now not called in the same way as when it was said, 'And God called the light day,' but in that way in which we say, for example, that a month has thirty days: for here under the name of 'day' we include the nights too; but above 'day' was so called that it might be separated from night.

And so, when that operation of God performed through light was being intimated, consequently it is said that there was made evening and there was made morning, one day, so that there be, namely, one day from the begun day up to the begun day, that is, from morning to morning—such days as we call them, counting in the nights, as I said. But how was there made evening and there made morning? Or did God make the light and divide between light and darkness in as great a delay of time as is the length a shining day is stretched, that is, without the night being counted? And where is that which is written: For it is in your power to be able whenever you will? Is there need to God of a production of time in order to accomplish something?

Or were all things indeed perfected by God as it were in art and reason, not in the production of time, but in that very power which stably effects even those things which we perceive not to stand but to pass away? For even in our own speech, though some words pass and others succeed, it is not credible that this happens in the art itself, by whose stable working the artful discourse comes forth. Although, therefore, God works without the production of time—he in whose power it is to be able when he wills—yet the temporal natures themselves carry out their motions temporally. Thus therefore perhaps it was said, 'And there was made evening and there was made morning, one day,' just as by reason it is foreseen that it ought or can so be done, not as it is done by the stretches of time.

For it was not the very reason of the operations that he contemplated in the Holy Spirit, who said: He who abides forever created all things at once; but most conveniently in this book the narration of the things made by God is arranged as it were through intervals of delays, so that that very disposition—which could not be seen by weaker minds in a stable contemplation—being set forth through this kind of order of discourse, might be as it were beheld with these eyes. And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it be dividing between water and water. And so it was made. And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament. Are the waters above the firmament such as those visible ones beneath the firmament?

Or, because it seems to signify that water over which the Spirit was borne, and which we understood to be the very matter of the world, is this also in this place to be believed to be separated by the interposition of the firmament, so that the lower is corporeal matter, the upper animate? For this he calls 'firmament,' which afterwards he calls heaven. Now than the celestial body there is nothing better among bodies. For some bodies are celestial, others terrestrial, and the celestial are assuredly better; whatever transcends their nature I know not how it could any longer be called a body—but it is perhaps a certain power subjected to reason, by which reason God and truth are known:

which nature, because it is formable by virtue and prudence, by whose vigor its fluidity is restrained and constrained, and on this account appears as it were material, has rightly been called 'water' by divine authority—not by spatial location but by the merit of an incorporeal nature exceeding the compass of the corporeal heaven. And since he called the heaven 'firmament,' it is not absurdly understood that whatever is beneath the ethereal heaven, in which all things are at peace and firm, is more changeable and more dissoluble. This kind of corporeal matter, before it received species and the distinction of forms, from which it is named under the firmament—there were those who believed these visible and cold waters to embrace the surface of the heaven from above.

And they tried to adduce as proof the slowness of one star among the seven wandering ones, which is higher than the rest and is called by the Greeks Phaenon, and traverses the zodiacal circle in thirty years, so that on this account it is slow because it is nearer to the cold waters which are above the heaven. Which opinion I know not how it can be defended among those who have inquired most subtly into these matters. But none of these things is to be rashly affirmed; rather all things are to be treated cautiously and modestly. And God said: Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let it be dividing between water and water. And so it was made. After he said, 'so it was made,' what need was there again to add:

And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament? For when he had said above: And God said, Let there be light. And light was made, he did not again add: And God made the light; but here, after God said, Let there be, and so it was made, there was added: And God made.

Does it hence appear that that light ought not to be understood as corporeal—lest God be seen to have made it with some creature interposed (and by 'God' I mean the Trinity)—but that this firmament of heaven, because it is corporeal, is to be believed to have received species and form through an incorporeal creature, so that first it was rationally impressed by truth upon the incorporeal nature what was to be corporeally impressed, so that the firmament of heaven might come to be; and therefore that which was set down, 'And God said, Let there be, and so it was made,' was perhaps first made in the rational nature itself, whence the species might be impressed upon the body? But when it was added:

And God made the firmament, and divided between the water which was under the firmament and the water which was above the firmament—is the very operation in that matter, so that the body of heaven might come to be, thereby signified? Or perhaps for the sake of variety, so that the text of the discourse might not fall into tedium, what is set down below is not set down above, and one ought not scrupulously to scrutinize everything? Let each choose what he can; only let him not rashly and as known bring forward something unknown, and let him remember that he is a man inquiring about the divine works so far as is permitted. And God called the firmament heaven. What was treated above concerning the 'calling' can here too be considered; for not every firmament is heaven. And God saw that it was good.

And what was treated above concerning this let it be retreated, except that I do not see the same order. For above: And God saw the light, that it was good, and afterwards then is subjoined: God divided between light and darkness; and God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. But here, after that which was said to be made has been narrated as made, and after the firmament was called heaven, then it is said: And God saw that it was good. And if this was thus varied not for the sake of avoiding tedium, we are certainly compelled to understand that which was said: And God made all things at once.

For why did he there first see that it was good and afterwards impose a name, but here first impose a name and afterwards see that it was good—unless because this indifference signifies that there are no intervals of delays in the operation of God, although they are found in the works themselves? But according to an interval of delays, one thing is effected first and another afterwards, without which the narration of things made cannot be, although without these God could have effected these things. And there was made evening, and there was made morning, a second day. This has already been treated above, and I think the same reasonings avail here too. And God said: Let the waters which are under heaven be gathered together into one gathering, and let the dry land appear. And so it was made.

Hence it can more probably be believed that 'water' was said above, as we supposed, to be the very matter of the world. For if the universe was filled with water, whence or whither could it be gathered together? For if by the name 'water' he had called a certain material confusion, this 'gathering together' is to be taken as the very formation, so that there might be such a species of water as we now perceive to be. And that very 'let the dry land appear,' which is set down, can be understood as the formation of the earth, so that the earth might have this species which we perceive. For it had been called invisible and unformed, while as yet the species of matter was lacking. God therefore said: Let the water which is under heaven be gathered together; that is, let corporeal matter be brought into form, so that it may be this water which we perceive by sense.

Into one gathering: the very power of form is commended by the name of unity. For this is truly to be formed, to be brought into some one thing, since supremely One is the principle of every form. And let the dry land appear: that is, let it receive a visible species and one distinct from confusion. And well is the water gathered together, that the dry land may appear; that is, what fluctuates of matter is restrained, so that what is obscure may be illumined. And so it was made: perhaps this too was first made in the reasons of the intellectual nature, so that afterwards that which is said—'And the water was gathered together into one gathering, and the dry land appeared'—might not seem to be added superfluously, when it had already been said:

And so it was made—but rather so that after the rational and incorporeal operation we might understand also a corporeal one to have followed. And God called the dry land earth, and the gathering of the water he called sea. Still that reason of appellations works with us; for not all water is sea, nor all dry land earth. Therefore what would be water and what dry land had to be segregated by appellations. But that the very distinction and formation was the 'calling' of God can not absurdly still be understood. And God saw that it was good. And here this very order has been kept; wherefore let those things which have already been treated be conferred upon this too. And God said:

Let the earth bring forth the herb of fodder bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and the fruitful tree making fruit, whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness. After earth and sea were made and named and approved—which, as we have often said, is not to be taken as intervals of delays, lest some slowness attend the ineffable capacity of the working God—there is not at once subjoined, as on the two preceding days, 'there was made evening and there was made morning, a third day,' but there is added another operation, that the earth bring forth the herb of fodder bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and the fruit-bearing tree making fruit, whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness.

Which was not said of that light and the firmament and the waters and the dry land; for that light does not have the offshoot of succession, nor is another heaven born of heaven, nor do earth or sea beget other seas and other lands to succeed them. Here therefore it had to be said: bearing seed according to its own kind and likeness, and whose seed be in itself according to its own likeness, where the likeness of those being born preserves the likeness of that which passes away. Now all these things are upon the earth in such a way that they cleave to the earth itself by their roots and are continuous with it, and again are in a certain manner separated from it:

For this reason I judge that the meaning proper to this kind of thing is preserved in that narrative, because although they were made on the same day on which the dry land appeared, God nonetheless spoke again, that the earth should bring forth vegetation, and again it is said: and so it was done. Then, according to the earlier pattern, after it is said, 'and so it was done,' there is added the execution itself: and the earth brought forth grass yielding fodder that bears seed according to its kind, and the fruit-bearing tree making fruit whose seed is in itself according to its own likeness; and again it says: God saw that it was good.

And so these things are both joined together on one day and, by the repetition of God's words, distinguished from one another. This, I think, was not done in the case of the earth and the sea, because the nature of these things must rather be discerned as things which, since they arise and pass away, are propagated by the succession of seed. Or is it because the earth and the sea could come to be simultaneously, not only in the reasons of the spiritual creature, where all things were made at once, but also in the very bodily movement, whereas trees and any kind of plants could not be born unless the earth in which they were to sprout had gone before? For this reason the command of God had also to be repeated, so that the things made might be signified as distinct, yet not to be made on a different day, because they are fixed to the roots of the earth and joined continuously to it.

But it may be asked why God did not impose names upon these. Or was it passed over because their multitude did not allow it? This question, however, will be better considered later, when we shall observe other things which God did not name, as he named the light and the heaven and the earth and the sea. And there was evening and there was morning, the third day. And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth and to divide between day and night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years; and let them be for brightness in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. On the fourth day the lights were made, of which it is said: and let them be for days. What then do the three days mean that passed without lights?

Or why shall these be for days, if even without them days could exist? Or is it because that stretching-forth of time and the interval of delay can be more evidently distinguished by men through the motion of these lights? Or does this enumeration of days and nights serve to distinguish between that nature which was not made and those which were made, so that 'morning' is named on account of their form as things made, but 'evening' on account of privation?

For inasmuch as it pertains to him by whom they were made, they are comely and beautiful; but inasmuch as it lies in themselves, they can fail, because they were made out of nothing; and in so far as they do not fail, this belongs not to their own matter, which is out of nothing, but to him who supremely is and makes them to be in their kind and order. And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven that they may give light. Is this said only of the fixed stars, or also of the wandering ones? But two lights, the greater and the lesser, are numbered among the wandering stars. How then were all things made in the firmament, since the several wandering bodies each possess their own spheres or circles?

Or is it because in the Scriptures we read both of many heavens and of a single heaven, as in this place, when 'heaven' and 'firmament' are named, we must understand that the whole of this ethereal machine is meant, which contains all the stars, beneath which flourishes the serenity of pure and tranquil air, beneath which likewise this turbulent and stormy air is stirred? That they may give light upon the earth and divide between day and night. Had not God already divided between the light and the darkness, and called the light day and called the darkness night? From which it appears that he divided between day and night. What then is now meant, when it is said of the lights: and let them divide between day and night?

Or is this division now made through the lights in such a way that it may be known even to men who use only their carnal eyes to contemplate these things, whereas God had in truth made that division before the circuit of the lights, so that now it cannot be seen except by a few who use the Holy Spirit and serene reason? Or did God divide between one day and another night, that is, between the form which he was imprinting upon that formlessness, and the formlessness which still remained to be formed? But this present day and this night, whose alternation is observed as the heaven revolves, are of another kind, an alternation which could not occur except by the rising and setting of the sun. And let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years. It seems to me that what he said, 'for signs,' made plain what he said:

and 'for seasons,' lest signs be taken to be one thing and seasons another. For he now calls these 'seasons' which, by the distinction of their intervals, signify that the immutable eternity remains above them, so that time may appear as a sign, that is, as a kind of trace of eternity. Again, when he adds, 'and for days and for years,' he shows what seasons he meant: that days come about by the revolution of the fixed stars, but years are manifest ones when the sun traverses the zodiacal circle, and more obscure ones when each of the wandering stars does the same in its own orbits. For he did not say 'and for months,' because perhaps a month is the year of the moon;

just as twelve lunar years are the year of that star which the Greeks call 'Zeus' (Jupiter), and thirty solar years are the year of that star which is called 'Phainon' (Saturn). And perhaps thus, when all the stars have returned to the same point, the Great Year is completed, of which many have said many things. Or does he say 'for signs' those by which the fixed course of sailing is signified, but 'for seasons' such as the spring season and summer and autumn and winter, because these too are varied by the revolution of the stars and keep their alternations and order, while 'for days and for years' is to be taken as has already been explained? And let them be for brightness in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. It had already been said above: Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth;

why do we think it was repeated? Or is it that, just as it was said of the plants that they should bear seed and that seed should be in them according to their own kind and likeness, so here, on the contrary, it was said of the lights: let them come to be and let them be, that is, let them come to be and not beget, but themselves be? And so it was done: that order is preserved. And God made two lights: the greater light for the beginning of the day, and the lesser light for the beginning of the night, and the stars. What 'the beginning of the day' and 'the beginning of the night' means will soon appear. But as to his adding 'and the stars,' it is ambiguous whether they pertain to the beginning of the night or not. Some, however, hold that here it is signified that the moon was first made full, because the full moon rises at the beginning of the night, that is, soon after the setting of the sun.

But that is absurd, that we should take the beginning of our reckoning not from the first day but from the sixteenth or fifteenth. Nor should it disturb us that the light which was made ought to have been made perfect. For it is perfect on every day; but its perfection is not seen by men except when it is set opposite the sun on the contrary side. For even when it is placed together with the sun, since it is beneath it, it seems to be diminished; yet even then it is full, because it is illumined on the other side and cannot be seen by those who are beneath, that is, who inhabit the earth. This can be taught not in few words but by subtle discussions and by the demonstration of certain visible figures. And God set them in the firmament of heaven, to give light upon the earth. How did he say:

Let them come to be in the firmament; and how does he now say: God made the lights and set them in the firmament, as though they were made outside and afterward placed there, when it had already been said that they should come to be there? Or is it hereby again and again signified that God did not make them as men are wont to do, but that the account was given as it could be given to men? Namely, that among men 'he made' is one thing and 'he set' another, but with God both are the same, since by making he sets and by setting he makes? And let them rule over the day and the night and divide between day and night. This is what had been said, 'the beginning of the day and the beginning of the night,' which he here explains by saying: let them rule over the day and the night.

Therefore we ought to understand that 'beginning' as sovereignty, because both in the day there is nothing more excellent among the things that are seen than the sun, and in the night nothing more excellent than the moon or the stars. Hence let that ambiguity no longer trouble us, and let us believe that the stars are so placed that they pertain to the beginning of the night, that is, to its sovereignty. And God saw that it was good. The same order is preserved. Let us indeed remember that these also God did not name, though it could have been said: and God called the lights stars, because not every light is a star.

And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day. If you consider those days which the rising and setting of the sun distinguish, this is not the fourth but perhaps the first day, so that we may suppose the sun rose at that time at which it was made, and set until the rest of the stars should be made. But he who understands that the sun is elsewhere when with us it is night, and that night is elsewhere when the sun is with us, will investigate the enumeration of these days more sublimely. And God said: Let the waters bring forth creeping things of living souls, and flying things flying above the earth beneath the firmament of heaven. And so it was done. The animals that are swimming were called 'creeping things' because they do not walk on feet; or is it because there are others which creep beneath the water in the earth?

For there are also winged creatures in the waters, such as fish which have scales, or others which do not have them but nonetheless rely on fins. Whether these are to be numbered here among the flying things can be doubted. For also, as to why he attributed the flying things themselves to the waters and not to the air, there is no small question. For we cannot here understand only those birds to which the waters are familiar, such as divers and ducks and whatever is of this kind. For if he had spoken only of these, he would not have omitted to speak in another place of the other birds, among which some are so far removed from the waters that they do not even drink. Unless perhaps he called this air adjoining the lands 'water,' since it shows itself to be moist even on the most serene nights by its dew, because it is also condensed into cloud.