Moralia in Job 351

Chapter 7, verse 1.— The life of man upon earth is a warfare. 8. Our life, both warfare and temptation, in the same sense. It is itself a temptation to itself.— In this place, in the old translation, the life of man is called not a warfare but a temptation. But if the sense of each word is regarded, that which outwardly sounds is indeed different, but it forms one and the same concordant meaning. For what, save the fight against malignant spirits, is expressed by the name of temptation? And what, by the appellation of warfare, save the exercise against enemies, is designated? Temptation therefore is itself warfare, because while it watches against the snares of malignant spirits, it beyond doubt sweats in the array of wars.

It is to be noted, moreover, that this same life of man is not said to have temptation, but is declared to be temptation itself. For, having of its own accord fallen from the state of its condition, and subjected to the putrefaction of its corruption, while it begets troubles for itself out of itself, it has now become the very thing which it endures. For because, being inclined, it deserted the state of the mind, what does it find in itself but the motion of changeableness? Whence now, even if it raises itself to seek the highest things, by the impulse of slippery mutability it straightway falls back to itself. It wishes to stand in contemplation, but has not the strength. It strives to fix the step of thought, but is enervated by the slips of its own weakness. Which burdens of its own mutability, because willing it sought them, unwilling it bears.

Man, at rest, could have possessed the flesh, if, being well constituted by his Author, he had been willing to be possessed. And when he studied to raise himself against his Creator, he straightway found in himself the reproach of the flesh. But because, together with the fault, from the origin the penalty also is propagated, we are born with the vice of weakness engrafted, and, as it were, bring the enemy with us, whom with labour we overcome. The very life of man, therefore, is a temptation, for which out of itself is born that whereby it may be destroyed. And though it always cuts off from virtue what it begets from weakness, yet it always begets from weakness what may be cut off from virtue. 9. In how many ways we are tempted;

how one temptation succeeds another to which it is subject.— Thus therefore is human life a temptation, that even if it is now restrained from the perpetration of iniquity, yet in its very good works it is darkened, now by the memory of evils, now by the fog of seduction, now by the interruption of its own intention. For one man now bridles his flesh from lust, but yet still endures the phantoms of lust, because the things he did willingly, of these he remembers unwillingly, and sustains as punishment what he thought pleasure. But because he fears to be drawn back to the fault he has vanquished, he restrains his belly by the vigour of marvellous abstinence, and his face grows pale from abstinence; and when the pallor is beheld in the face, his life is praised as reverend by men;

and soon vainglory comes to the abstinent man's mind together with words of favour, which, when the shaken mind is not strong enough to subdue, it seeks to wipe away from the face that pallor through which the vainglory had come; and so it happens that, bound by the bonds of weakness, either, fleeing the pallor of abstinence, it is again by food made subject to lust, or, overcoming the impulse of lust through abstinence, it dreads its own pallor serving vainglory. Another, overcoming the fall of pride, now with all his desire lays hold of the state of humility;

and when he beholds certain proud persons breaking forth even to the oppression of the innocent, kindled by the excitement of zeal, he is compelled somewhat to set aside what he had resolved, puts forth the force of rectitude, and contradicts the depraved not with meekness but with authority. Whence for the most part it happens that either through the study of humility he deserts the zeal of rectitude, or again through the zeal of rectitude he disturbs the study of humility which he held. And when the authority of zeal and the humility of his purpose can scarcely be preserved together, the man is rendered unknown to his very self through perturbation, so that he vehemently doubts lest, in a seduced mind, either pride insinuate to him the authority of zeal, or timid torpor lick over his humility.

Another, considering how great is the fault of falsehood, resolves to fortify himself with the citadel of truth, so that no false word may now come forth from his mouth, and he may utterly sever himself from the transgression of lying. But for the most part it happens that when the truth is spoken, the life of a neighbour is burdened; and while he fears to inflict injury upon another, he returns, as it were out of the study of piety, to that vice of falsehood which he had a while ago pressed down; and so it happens that even if malice does not stretch the mind, yet in it the shadow of a lie obscures the ray of truth. Whence also often, because one who is questioned cannot keep silent, either, speaking what is false, he slaughters his own mind, or, speaking true things, he burdens the life of his neighbour.

Another, stirred up by the love of his Creator, takes care by assiduous prayer to suspend his mind from earthly thoughts, and to place it in the secret security of inmost quiet; but in the very ascent of his prayer, while he strives to be lifted up from things within, he is beaten back by the phantasm of things within; and the eye is stretched to gaze upon the light of the mind, but from bodily custom, as the images of earthly things rise up, it is darkened. Whence for the most part it happens that the mind of one intent, wearied by its very own weakness, either, deserting prayer, grows torpid in sloth, or, if it has long remained in prayer, the fog of the images that arise thickens before its eyes. [Old Version, chapter 5.] 10. On occasion of virtues we sometimes fall worse. Well therefore is it said:

The life of man upon earth is a temptation, when there also it finds the guilt of descent where it thought to grasp itself advanced by ascent; and thence the mind is confounded, whence it was striving to rise from confusion, so that through that it may return battered to itself, through which, now collected and united, it was passing over. This man, a stranger to the erudition of the divine law, is depressed by his own ignorance, so that he works nothing toward obtaining salvation. That man, endowed with the knowledge of the divine law, while he rejoices that understanding is at hand for him beyond the rest, because he exults in private joy, dissipates within himself the gifts of the understanding he has received; and thence in judgment he is shown worse than the rest, whence for a time he is shown brighter than the rest.

This man, because the gifts of virtues do not raise him up, even turns aside from the simple road of righteousness; and reckoning himself a stranger to the heavenly gift, he does wrong the more securely, as it were, precisely because he has not received the sublime gifts of the gift from on high. That other man the spirit of prophecy fills, lifts up to foreknowledge, and shows him things to come as already present. But while he is often, and in many things, exalted above himself so as to contemplate the future truly, his mind, led into confidence in itself, supposes that the spirit of prophecy, which can never be possessed at will, is always present to him; and reckoning as prophecy everything he has felt, he both attributes this to himself even when he does not have it, and loses it in the very measure in which he had been able to have it.

And so it comes to pass that he returns sad after the merits of others, whence he had gone before, joyful in the esteem of all. The life of man upon earth is therefore a temptation, which either, being estranged from virtues, is unable to rise to the heavenly reward, or, though endowed with spiritual gifts, sometimes falls the worse by occasion of those very virtues. Our life is a warfare, because, like this warfare, by growing it diminishes and comes to an end. But since a little above we said that this which we have called a warfare is a temptation, it must most attentively be understood that something more is intimated to us by the name of warfare than by the term temptation. For by the expression of warfare this is increased to our understanding, namely that through warfare one presses on daily toward the end;

and while by the order of the warfare the place advances, the whole warfare of men fails at the same time. The life of man upon earth is therefore a warfare, because also, as we said above, each one, while daily by the increments of time he presses toward the term of life, by increasing his life ceases to live. For he awaits the days that they may come; but when they come to the increase of life, they are already withdrawn from the increase of life, since even the traveller's step, while it advances forward, diminishes the road that remains. Our life therefore is a warfare, which, the more it is led toward increase, so much the more is brought to an end so as not to be. Rightly therefore is it said:

The life of man upon earth is a warfare, because while through the spaces of the seasons it desires to grow, it passes on by growing from that very space which it gathers by losing. Whence fitly also the very course of the warfare is expressed, when there is straightway added: