Moralia in Job 355

Verse 5: My flesh is clothed with rottenness and with the filth of dust; my skin is dried up and drawn together. The instability of fallen man. But these things we discuss more subtly and fittingly, if we return to the order of the foregoing exposition. For by sleep the torpor of idleness, but by rising the exercise of action is expressed. By the name of evening too, because it accords with sleep, again the desire of idleness is figured. But holy Church, so long as she leads a life of corruption, does not cease to weep the losses of her mutability. For to this end had man been created, that, with his mind standing firm, he might raise himself to the citadel of contemplation, and no corruption might turn him aside from the love of his Founder.

But in that, from the inborn solidity of standing, he moved his foot of will to guilt, he straightway fell from love of the Founder into himself. Deserting indeed the love of God, that is, the true citadel of his standing, he could not stand firm even in himself, because, by the impulse of slippery mutability, plunging down below himself through corruption, he dissented even from his own self. He now, because he is not fixed by the solidity of his condition, is varied by the ever-alternating motion of desire, so that both, being at rest, he desires action, and, being occupied, he pants for idleness. For because the fixed mind, when it could stand, would not, it can no longer stand even when it will.

For deserting the contemplation of his Founder, he lost the strength of his salvation, and placed wherever he may be, always sick, he seeks another place. Expressing therefore the changeableness of the human mind, let him say: If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall I arise? and again I shall await the evening. As if he plainly said: Nothing perceived suffices the mind, because it has lost the very One who could truly suffice. For in sleep I desire rising, in rising I await evening, because both, at rest, I crave the exercise of action, and, exercised, I seek the idleness of rest. It must also be sought how the just man may rise from sin. Lest he be exalted, he desires the world's adversities. Yet this can also be understood otherwise. For to sleep is to lie in sins.

For if the appellation of sleep were not guilt, Paul would by no means say to the disciples: Awake, you just, and sin not (1 Cor. 15:34). Whence also he admonishes his hearer, saying: Arise, you who sleep, and rise up from the dead, and Christ shall enlighten you (Eph. 5:14). And again: It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep (Rom. 13:11). Whence also Solomon rebukes the sinner, saying: How long, O sluggard, wilt thou sleep (Prov. 6:9)? Each of the elect therefore, when he is pressed by the sleep of sin, strives to rise to the vigils of justice. But often, when he has risen, he feels himself exalted by the very greatness of his virtues. Whence also he desires to be tempted, after his virtues, by the adversities of the present life, lest he fall the worse from confidence in his virtues.

For if he did not know that he is better preserved through temptation, the Psalmist would by no means say: Prove me, O Lord, and try me (Ps. 26:2). Well therefore is it now said: If I lie down to sleep, I shall say: When shall I arise? and again I shall await the evening, because both in the sleep of sin the light of justice is sought, and, when the prosperity of virtues elevates the mind, helping adversity is desired, so that indeed the soul, when it is raised by joy in its virtues more than it ought, may be made solid through the contrariety of the present life by the sorrow brought forth. Whence also it is by no means said, I shall fear the evening, but I shall await it. For we await prosperous things, we fear adverse things.

The just man therefore awaits the evening, because, when it is necessary for him to be exercised by tribulation, that very adversity becomes prosperity for him. Here he is never not liable to the temptation of sin. He does not fear temptations, but prepares himself against them. By the name of evening, too, the temptation of sin can be designated, which often provokes the mind the more sharply, the more highly the spirit lifts that same mind to things on high. For never in this life is sin so forsaken through the exercise of justice that one may remain unshaken in that very justice, because, although rectitude already banishes guilt from the dwelling-place of the heart, yet that very guilt which is driven back, sitting at the doors of our thought, knocks that it may be opened to it.

This Moses too spiritually intimated, when he narrated the moments of time made corporeally, saying: Light was made; and a little after subjoining: There was made evening (Gen. 1:3,5). For the Creator of all, foreknowing human guilt, then expressed in time what now is enacted in the mind. Light indeed is led to evening, because the shade of temptation follows the light of rectitude. But because the light of the elect is not extinguished by temptation, it is by no means said that night, but evening, was made, because indeed temptation often hides, but does not destroy, the light of justice in the heart of the upright; it draws it as it were to the pallor of trembling, but does not utterly extinguish it.

The elect therefore, after sleep desire rising, after rising they wait for the evening, because they both awaken from sin to the light of justice, and, placed in that very light of justice, always prepare themselves against the enticements of temptations. These indeed they do not fear, but await, because they are not ignorant that even temptations profit toward their own advantage of rectitude. Here no one enjoys entire salvation. But with however great virtue they may contend against their corruption, they cannot have entire salvation until the day of the present life be ended. Whence also is subjoined: And I shall be filled with sorrows even unto the darkness. For now adversities rush in; now even prosperous things themselves flatter with crafty gaiety.

Now rising base things stir up the war of the flesh; now, once conquered, they call the soul to elation. The life of the good therefore is filled with sorrows even unto the darkness, because so long as the time of corruption is passed, it is shaken by inward and outward affliction, and finds not the security of salvation, except when it utterly leaves behind the day of temptation. Whence well is this same cause of sorrows straightway subjoined, when it is said: My flesh is clothed with rottenness and with the filth of dust. For as we said a little above, man voluntarily deserted his inborn solidity, and plunged himself into the abyss of corruption; whence now he either slips through unclean works, or is defiled through unlawful thoughts.

For, that I may so speak, our very nature, penally subjected to its own guilt, has now been made outside nature; and when loosed, it is led even to perverse works, but when restrained, it is darkened by the importunate thought of perverse works. By the fulfilment therefore of unlawful action, rottenness affects the flesh; but by the levity of wicked thought, dust as it were rises before the eyes. By consenting to vices we are worn with rottenness; but by tolerating in the heart the images of vices, we are defiled with the filth of dust. He says therefore: My flesh is clothed with rottenness and with the filth of dust. As if he plainly said: The carnal life which I suffer either the corruption of slippery operation pollutes, or the gloom of wretched thought presses down from the memory of vices.

The flesh of the Church rots in her slippery members, is defiled in those who seek the earth. Yet if we take this from the voice of the universal Church, we sometimes find her without doubt burdened with the rottenness of the flesh, but sometimes with the filth of dust. For many indeed are in her who, while they are enslaved to love of the flesh, rot away with the stench of luxury. And there are some who indeed abstain from the pleasure of the flesh, but yet lie with their whole mind in earthly acts. Let holy Church therefore say, in the voices of one of her members, let her say what she endures of both kinds of men: My flesh is clothed with rottenness and with the filth of dust. As if she plainly intimated, saying:

There are very many who are my members through faith, but yet are not sound or clean through action, because either, conquered by base desires, they flow away to the rottenness of corruption, or, given over to earthly acts, they are sprinkled with dust. For in those slippery ones whom I endure I groan over flesh, namely, rotting; but in those whom I suffer seeking the earth, what else do I carry than what is defiled with dust? The skin of the Church are those who serve only outward cares: whence it withers. Whence also fitly of both together is subjoined: My skin is dried up and drawn together. For in the body of holy Church, those who serve only outward cares are congruously called the skin.

This skin indeed is drawn together by withering, because the minds of carnal men, while they love present things and covet them as if placed close at hand, are unwilling to be stretched toward future things through long-suffering. These, while they neglect the fatness of inward hope, wither so as to be drawn together, because if despair did not dry up their hearts, the heat of this pusillanimity would by no means draw them together. For this drawing-together the Psalmist had dreaded when, fearing the dryness of the mind, he said: Let my soul be filled as with marrow and fatness (Ps. 63:5). For the fat of fatness fills the soul, when the infusion of heavenly hope refreshes it against the heat of present desires.

The withering skin therefore is drawn together when the heart, given over to outward things and dried up from despair, is not stretched into the love of its Author, but is folded back upon itself, so to speak, in wrinkled thought. He is not held by love of present things who recalls the brevity of this life. But it must be weighed that carnal minds love present things for this reason, that they by no means consider how fleeting is the life of the flesh. For if they beheld the swiftness of its passing, they would by no means love it even while it prospers. But holy Church in her elect daily beholds how great is the course of outward things, and therefore fixes the foot of anxious intention in things innermost. Whence also fitly is subjoined: