Moralia in Job 253

Ibid. — When deep sleep is wont to seize upon men. 54. Contemplation is not reached unless carnal desires are lulled to sleep. Sleep is taken in three ways. — Whoever desires to do the things that are of the world, as it were keeps watch; but whoever, seeking inward quiet, flees the din of this world, as it were falls asleep. But first it must be known that in Holy Scripture, figuratively set down, sleep is taken in three ways. For sometimes by sleep is expressed the death of the flesh, sometimes the torpor of negligence, sometimes indeed, when earthly desires are trodden down, the rest of life. For by the name of sleep or slumber the death of the flesh is intimated, as Paul says: I would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that sleep. And a little after:

So also God will bring with Him those who have slept through Jesus (1 Thess. iv, 12). Again, by sleep is designated the torpor of negligence, as it is said by the same Paul: It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep (Rom. xiii, 11). And again: Awake, ye righteous, and sin not (1 Cor. xv, 34). By sleep also, when the desires of the flesh are trodden down, the rest of life is figured, as it is said in the voice of the bride in the Song of Songs: I sleep, and my heart waketh (Cant. v, 2); because, namely, the holy mind, the more it represses itself from the din of temporal concupiscence, the more truly it knows inward things; and it watches the more eagerly toward the innermost things the more it hides itself from outward disquiet. This is well figured by Jacob sleeping on his journey (Gen. xxviii, 11),

who placed a stone at his head and fell asleep: he saw a ladder from the earth clinging to heaven, the Lord leaning upon the ladder, and angels also ascending and descending. To sleep on a journey is to rest, in this passage of the present life, from the love of temporal things. To sleep on a journey is, in the course of the fleeting days, to close the eyes of the mind from the appetite of visible things—the eyes which the seducer opened to the first men, when he said: For God knoweth that on whatever day ye eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened (Gen. iii, 5, 6). Hence also a little after it is subjoined: She took of the fruit thereof, and ate; and gave to her husband, who ate, and the eyes of them both were opened.

For guilt opened the eyes of concupiscence, which innocence had held closed. But to behold the angels ascending and descending is to contemplate the citizens of the heavenly fatherland, either with how great a love they cling above their very selves to their Author, or with how great a compassion of charity they condescend to our infirmities. 55. For contemplation it does not suffice to rest from the actions of the world, unless virtues also be exercised. — And it is greatly to be noted that he beholds the angels sleeping who places his head upon the stone; because, namely, he himself, ceasing from outward works, penetrates inward things, who with intent mind observes—which is the chief thing of man—the imitation of his Redeemer.

For to place the head upon the stone is to cling with the mind to Christ. For those who are removed from the action of the present life, but are not caught up by any love to things on high, can sleep, but cannot see the angels; because they disdain to hold their head upon the stone. (Version XXII.) For there are some who indeed flee the actions of the world, but are exercised by no virtues. These assuredly sleep from torpor, not from zeal; and therefore they behold not inward things, because they have placed their head not on the stone but on the earth. To whom it very often happens that, the more securely they cease from external actions, the more widely they heap up in themselves through idleness the din of unclean thought. Hence, under the likeness of Judea, the soul torpid with idleness is bewailed by the Prophet, when it is said:

The enemies have seen her, and have mocked at her sabbaths (Lam. i, 7). For by the precept of the law one ceases on the sabbath from outward work. The enemies, therefore, seeing the sabbaths, deride them, when the malignant spirits drag the very leisures of rest into unlawful thoughts; so that each soul, in the very measure that, removed from external actions, it is believed to serve God, the more serves their tyranny by thinking unlawful things.

But holy men, who are lulled to sleep from the works of the world not by torpor but by virtue, sleep more laboriously than they were able to keep watch, because, in that which, forsaking the actions of this age, they overcome them, they daily fight with robust conflict against their own selves, lest the mind grow torpid through negligence, lest, overcome by idleness, it grow cold toward unclean desires, lest in good desires themselves it seethe more than is just, lest, under the appearance of discretion, by sparing itself, it languish from perfection. It does these things, and withdraws itself utterly from the restless concupiscence of this world, and forsakes the din of earthly actions, and, intent upon virtues through the zeal of quiet, sleeping keeps watch.

For one is not led to the contemplation of inward things unless he studiously withdraw himself from those things which outwardly entangle. For hence it is that Truth says through Herself: No man can serve two masters (Matt. vi, 24). Hence Paul says: No man being a soldier to God entangleth himself with secular affairs, that he may please Him to whom he hath approved himself (2 Tim. ii, 4). Hence the Lord, admonishing through the Prophet, says: Be still, and see that I am God (Ps. xlv, 11). Because, therefore, the inward knowledge is by no means beheld unless one cease from external entanglement, the time of the hidden word and of the divine whisper is now rightly expressed, when it is said:

In the horror of a nocturnal vision, when deep sleep is wont to seize upon men; because, namely, our mind is in no way caught up to the power of inward contemplation, unless it be first studiously lulled to sleep from the tumult of earthly desires. But the human soul, lifted up by a certain engine of its own contemplation, the higher it beholds things above itself, the more terribly it trembles within itself. Hence it is aptly subjoined: