Nothing at all; you had given nothing, nor could you have given anything before you came to be, but freely you received from Him that you should exist. To whom, then, were you preferred in being made? Who could have received less than one who received that he might come to be? And yet, unless this — to receive existence — were itself something, one who did not exist could not have begun to be; and unless to be were better than not to be, He who is would have bestowed nothing more upon the one who is not. Why, then, my God, did You make me, unless because You willed me to be rather than not to be? And You loved me more than all those who did not merit to receive this from You.
Since, therefore, my God, You gave me existence — a good and great good, a good and beautiful good, Your own good You gave to me — and (in giving me this) You preferred me above all those to whom You were unwilling to give this so great good of Yours. O my soul, do we say anything at all when we say this to our God? To our God, by whom we were made, made who once were not, and have received more than all those who were not made. Truly thus, thus we do say something, and we say much when we say this; and this we ought always to say, lest we ever forget Him from whom we have received so great a good. He who, even had He given nothing further, would yet for this very gift always be worthy to be praised and loved by us.
But now He has given more, for He gave not only being, but beautiful being, comely being; and just as this surpasses nothing through existence, so it goes beyond mere something through form, in which that which is gives much pleasure, and still more that which is of such a kind. In this, my soul, behold yourself preferred above all those whom you see did not receive so excellent a good of existing. But not even here could the bounty of the best Giver come to its limit. He gave still something more, and drew us further into His likeness; He willed to draw to Himself through likeness those whom He was drawing to Himself through love. He gave us, then, to be, and to be beautiful;
He also gave us to live, that we might excel both those things which do not exist, through essence; and those which are disordered or ill-composed, through form; and those which are inanimate, through life. You are bound by a great debt, my soul; you have received much, and have had nothing of your own. And for all these things you have nothing to give in return, except only that you love. For what was given through love can be repaid neither better nor more fittingly than through love. Now this whole gift you received through love. For God could have given life to other creatures of His also, but in this gift He loved you more. Nor did He love you more because He found more in you to be loved, but because He freely loved you more, and made you such that now indeed He deservedly loves you more.
The more I hear, the more I long to hear; go on, I pray, and relate what follows. MAN. After being, and after beautiful being, after living, there was given also to perceive, and given also to discern; and it was given through that same love, which, had it not gone before, nothing would have been given by the bestower, and nothing received by the needy one. How sublime, and how comely you have been made, my soul! What did this so great and such an adornment intend, save that the very same One who clothed you prepared a bride for His bridal-chamber? He knew for what work He was forming you; He knew what kind of adornment befitted that work; and therefore He gave what was fitting, and what was so fitting that He Himself, who gave it, also loved it. Outwardly He adorned you with senses, inwardly He illumined you with wisdom.
Giving sense as it were an outward, and wisdom as it were an inward attire. Hanging the senses outwardly like certain gleaming gems, adorning wisdom within like a natural beauty upon the face of your countenance. Behold your adornment: it surpasses the beauty of all gems; behold your face: it excels the comeliness of all forms. Such altogether it was fitting that she should be, who was to be led into the bridal-chamber of the heavenly King. How greatly you are loved, and before how many you are loved, since you have been made such! How singular a gift, how granted to not all, to be granted to none but the beloved and those worthy to be loved!
Much could you have gloried, and much ought you to have been guarded, lest you should lose such a gift, lest you should defile such an ornament, lest you should corrupt so great a comeliness, lest, having lost it or left it unprotected, you should become more wretched than you would have been wretched had you never received it or had it never been perfected; lest the confusion of foulness should torment you together with the loss of forfeited beauty, and you should become, when cast off, viler than if you had never been taken up. This, then, was to be guarded, and that to be guarded against, so that this guarded should endure, and that, warded off, should not befall. But see what you have done, my soul: you forsook your bridegroom, and prostituted your love with strangers. You corrupted your integrity, you defiled your beauty, you scattered your adornment.
So vile, so foul, so unclean have you become, as though you were no longer worthy of the embraces of such a bridegroom. You forgot, then, your bridegroom, and did not render worthy thanks for so great benefits. You became a harlot, and through your excessive fornications your breasts have grown slack. Your brow has become wrinkled, your cheeks withered, your eyes languid and dull, your lips overspread with pallor, your skin dried up, your strength broken, hateful even to your own lovers. SOUL. I was hoping that all those preludes were tending toward another end; but, as I see, you have said these things to my greater confusion, that you might show me the more deserving of hatred, since, having received such great benefits and not kept them, you have proved me the more ungrateful.
I could wish, then, either that what has been spoken had not been done, or at least that what was done had not been spoken, so that forgetfulness might cover my confusion, even if presumption did not escape the guilt. MAN. They have been said not for your confusion, but for your instruction, that you might become the more bound to Him who both made you when you were not, and redeemed you when you had perished. For I recalled even that, in proof of His love, so that, taking the occasion from it, I might now begin to tell you how greatly this bridegroom of yours (who appeared so exalted when He formed you) deigned to be humbled when He restored you. There so sublime, here so humble, yet not here less lovable than there, because not here less admirable than there.
There He powerfully bestowed great things upon you; here He mercifully endured dreadful things for you. For in order to raise you up to that place from which you had fallen, He Himself deigned to descend here where you were lying; and in order that what you had lost might be justly restored to you, He Himself deigned piously to suffer what you were enduring. He descended, then; He took up, He endured, He conquered, He restored: He descended to the mortal, He took up mortality, He endured the passion, He conquered death, He restored man. Behold, my soul, be astounded at such wonders, such benefits shown for your sake. Consider how greatly He loves you, who deigned to do such great things for your sake. You had been made beautiful by His gift; you have been made foul by your own iniquity.
But again you were cleansed and made comely by His mercy, charity working on both sides. Once, when you were not, He loved you so as to create you; afterward, when you were foul, He loved you so as to make you beautiful; and to show you how greatly He loved you, He willed to free you from death by no other means than by dying, so that He might not only expend the benefit of mercy, but also display the affection of charity. But now He loves you with so sincere a charity, as though you had always remained with Him; He neither reproaches you with your guilt, nor casts His benefit in your teeth. And if you henceforth are willing faithfully to persevere with Him, and to love Him as is fitting, and to keep your love for Him unstained, He promises to give greater things than the former. SOUL.
Now in a certain way I begin to love my own fault, because, as I see, it has not profited me a little to have done myself harm, in proportion as from it that which with all my prayers I longed to know is made known to me more clearly than the light. O happy fault of mine! For while He is drawn by charity to wash it away, His very charity is thereby opened to me, who long for it and desire it with my whole heart. Never would I have so well acknowledged His love, had I not experienced it amid such great perils. O how happily I fell, who after my fall rose again more happily! No love is greater, no affection more sincere, no charity more holy, no devotion more ardent: He, the innocent, died for me, finding in me nothing that He might love.
What, then, O Lord, did You love in me, and love so much that You would die for me? What such thing did You find in me, for which You were willing to endure things so great and so hard? MAN. O my soul, accuse yourself before the Lord, that until now you have been ungrateful for His so great benefits, and have been unwilling to acknowledge His very many acts of mercy. But that you may understand still better how much you owe Him, while I pursue His remaining benefits according to the order I have begun, I wish you to attend diligently. SOUL. This I always desire to hear, which is so sweet to me that I would have you repeat the same thing unceasingly, rather than hasten on to the other things which remain to be heard. MAN.
You had gone away, then, and had perished; and because you had been sold in your sins, He came after you to redeem you, and loved you so much that He weighed out the price of His own blood for you, and by such a bargain both brought you back from exile and redeemed you from servitude. SOUL. I did not know that God loved me so much; I ought no longer to be vile in my own eyes, who so pleased God that He chose even to die for me, lest He should lose me. MAN. And what if you should begin to consider how many, and what manner of men, in comparison with you, have been cast off, who could not obtain this grace which has been given to you?
Surely you have heard how, from the beginning until this day, how many generations of men have passed away, who all, without the knowledge of God and without the price of their redemption, have slipped into everlasting destruction. Above all those your Redeemer and Lover preferred you, when He bestowed upon you this grace, which none of these merited to receive. And what will you say? Why do you think you were preferred above all those? Were you stronger, were you wiser, were you nobler, were you richer than all those, that you merited to obtain this special grace above all of them? How many strong, how many wise, how many noble, how many rich were there? And yet, one and all, abandoned and cast off, they perished.
You alone above all those were taken up; and why this was done in you, you can find no cause save only the free charity of your Savior. Your bridegroom, then, your lover, your Redeemer, your God, chose you and chose you beforehand. He chose you among all, and took you up out of all, and loved you above all. By His own name He called you, that His memorial might ever be with you; He willed you to be a partaker in the name, a partaker in the truth of the name, since He anointed you with that oil of gladness (with which He Himself was anointed), so that he might be anointed by the Anointed One, who from Christ is called a Christian. SOUL.
Much, I confess, has been conferred upon me; but I ask you, if (as you assert) I have now been taken up, why am I still kept waiting, since I cannot yet come to the embraces of the bridegroom? MAN. You do not know, then, my soul, you do not know how foul you were before, how polluted, how deformed and squalid, torn and dissipated, full of all horror and monstrosity. And how do you so quickly demand to be led into that bridal-chamber of modesty and chastity, unless you are first at least, by some care and zeal, refined and restored to your former comeliness?
For this is what you are now awaited for; this is why this bridegroom of yours still withdraws His presence from you, and does not yet admit you into mutual embraces and sweet kisses: namely, because neither ought the polluted to touch the clean, nor does it befit the beautiful to look upon the foul. But when you have been prepared and becomingly adorned, then at last you will enter into that bridal-chamber of the heavenly bridegroom, to remain there without confusion. Nor will you then be ashamed of your former foulness, since you will have nothing foul, nothing worthy of shame. First, therefore, take care to cultivate your form, to adorn your face, to compose your attire, to wipe away your stains, to repair your cleanliness, to correct your manners, to keep discipline, and, all things at length being changed for the better, to render yourself a bride worthy of a worthy bridegroom.
I wish to say something whereby I may make you more cautious, lest, because you hear that you are chosen, either elation should make you swollen with pride, or negligence should render you dissolute. Have you never heard what King Ahasuerus did, when he repudiated Queen Vashti on account of her insolence? — a notable deed, a useful example, a grave warning. She, then, was cast off for her pride, and the king's command went forth that from all his kingdom beautiful maidens, virgins, should be gathered together and brought to the city of Susa, and handed over into the house of the women under the hand of the eunuch Hegai, who was the overseer and keeper of the royal women; and there they should receive women's adornment, and the rest of things necessary for their use.
And so they were to be cultivated and adorned with all things abundantly supplied according to royal magnificence. For six months they were to be anointed with oil of myrrh, for another six they were to use certain perfumes; and thus arrayed and adorned, they were to pass from the women's hall to the king's chamber, so that she who out of all should please most might sit for Vashti upon the throne of the kingdom (Esther 2). See how many were chosen, that one might be chosen — namely she who should appear to the king's eyes more beautiful and more adorned than the rest. The king's ministers choose many for the adorning; the king himself chooses one for the bridal-chamber. The first choice of the many was made according to the king's command; the second choice of the one was made according to the king's will.
Let us consider, then, whether perhaps this example may be fitted to the present matter of which we are treating. The King, the Son of the supreme King, came into this world (which He Himself had created) to betroth to Himself a chosen wife, an only wife, a wife worthy of royal nuptials. But because Judea scorned to receive Him appearing in the form of humility, she was cast off. And the king's ministers were sent — the apostles, namely — throughout the whole world to gather souls and to bring them to the City of the King, that is, to the holy Church, in which is the house and dwelling of the royal women, that is, of the holy souls, who are made fruitful and bring forth sons not for servitude, but for the kingdom.
They, because they serve God not out of fear but out of charity, bring forth their offspring as it were into the freedom of good works. Many, therefore, being called, enter the Church through faith, and there receive the sacraments of Christ, prepared as it were certain ointments and antidotes for the repair and adornment of souls. But because by the mouth of Truth it is said, 'Many are called, but few are chosen' (Matt. 20), not all who have been admitted to this adorning are to be chosen for the kingdom, but only those who so strive to cleanse and cultivate themselves by these things that, when they have been led into the king's presence, they may be found such as He Himself would rather choose than reject. See, then, where you have been placed, and you will understand what you ought to do.
For your bridegroom has placed you in the hall where the women are adorned; He has given you various perfumes and diverse kinds of spices, and royal foods; He has commanded that there be ministered to you from His own table whatever can avail for health, whatever for refreshment, whatever for repairing your beauty, whatever for increasing your comeliness. Beware, then, lest you be negligent in cultivating yourself, lest in your last day, when you shall have been presented in the sight of this bridegroom, you be found unworthy (which God forbid!) of His fellowship. Prepare yourself as befits the bride of a King — and the bride of the heavenly King, the bride of the immortal Bridegroom. SOUL. You have again embittered me, and struck me with no small dread.
For as far as may be understood from your words, I have changed my purpose, but I have not escaped the peril. I have changed my purpose, because from him who once distracted me with a wandering and unstable love, I have been turned to the one love. I have not escaped the peril, because, as you assert, unless I shall have striven to show myself worthy in every way, I do not attain to the fruit of this love. It remains, therefore, that you now expound to me more diligently concerning this hall in which the royal women are nourished, and concerning the royal food that is given to them, and concerning the very ointments also with which they are anointed, and concerning all the rest that is provided for their cultivation or comeliness.
For by His very love I am moved henceforth to expend zeal upon those things without which I see I cannot attain to the affection of His love. And would that I might merit to be that one whose comeliness and adornment the king shall praise. How happy is she, and how much more chosen than the chosen, who shall carry her zeal through to this end! How small would I now reckon all toil, if I could carry my zeal through to this end. I beg you, therefore, not to be slow to teach me one by one what those remedies are by which I ought to reform my face to this comeliness, because I vehemently desire to please Him, whose charity toward me I acknowledge to be so kind, and whose love so delightful. MAN. So indeed it is necessary that you do.
And I pray that He Himself, who has already granted you the will to do this, may also be willing to grant the strength to accomplish it. You ask what the hall is; ask also what the king's chamber is. Set these two dwellings before yourself, because you have need of considering them. There is, then, the hall; there is the king's chamber. In the hall the brides are prepared for the nuptials; in the chamber, however, the nuptials are celebrated. The present Church is as it were the hall, in which the brides of God are now prepared for the future nuptials. The heavenly Jerusalem is as it were the King's chamber, in which the nuptials themselves are celebrated.
But after the times of adorning, they pass from the hall to the King's chamber, because after the times of working well they come to receive the fruit of their good work. But the present Church is called a hall because of the three orders of the faithful: of the married, of the continent, of rulers or virgins. Let us see, next, what the ointments are, and the kinds of perfumes, what the foods, what the garments prepared for the adornment of the brides. Nor is this to be passed over: that the bridegroom Himself, just as He freely first loves those who are in some manner foul and base, so also freely expends upon them every aid toward their adornment.
Nor do they have anything of themselves, unless they receive from Him that whereby they may please Him; so that you may know this too belongs to His love — that you have wherewith you may adorn yourself, you who indeed have nothing of yourself, unless you have received it from Him. First is the font of baptism here set, and the laver of regeneration, in which you wash away the filth of past crimes. Then chrism and oil, in whose anointing you are smeared with the Holy Spirit. After these, anointed and bathed with the unction of gladness, you come to the table, and there receive the nourishment of the body and blood of Christ, by which, inwardly fattened and refreshed, you drive away that hurtful leanness of past fastings, and, restored to your pristine fullness and strength, you in a manner grow young again.
Then you put on the garments of good works, and by the fruit of almsgiving, together with fastings and prayers, with holy vigils and other works of piety, you are adorned as it were with a certain varied ornament. Last of all follow the aromatics of the virtues, whose sweetly breathing fragrance puts to flight all that stench of the old filth, so that you seem in a manner to be wholly changed and transformed into another, and you are made more joyful, more lively, more healthful. There is given to you also a mirror, holy Scripture, that you may see your face in it, lest the composition of your adornment have anything less or other than is fitting. What, then, do you say, my soul? Do you know whether you have as yet received any of these things?
Surely in the font you were washed; surely from the King's table you ate the same food, and drank the same drink. But perhaps you have been polluted again — you have tears with which to wash yourself again. The unction has again withered in you — by good and pious devotion anoint yourself again. You are again worn out by long fasting: again washed with tears, and renewed by the unction of pious devotion, return to your refreshment. See with how pious a dispensation help is at every point afforded to you. You did not have, and it was given to you; you lost, and it is restored to you; nowhere are you abandoned, that you may know how greatly He loves you, by whom you are loved;
He does not wish to lose you, and therefore with so great patience He waits, and piously grants, that things so often negligently lost may again and again, if you are willing, be repaired. Oh, how many have now perished who had received these things together with you, but did not merit to receive again with you the things they had lost! More, therefore, than all those, are you loved, because to you so kindly is restored what was lost, which to them, once lost, was so strictly denied. Has no grace of working well been given to you? Yet the good will, by His own bestowing, has not been denied. If you do great works, you are mercifully exalted. If you do not do great works, perhaps you are salutarily humbled.
He knows better than you what is profitable for you; and on this account, if you wish to think well of Him, understand that everything which is done to you by Him is done well. Perhaps you do not have the grace of the virtues, but while you are shaken by the assault of vices, you are better established in humility. An infirm humility smells more sweetly to God than an exalted virtue. Dare not, therefore, to prejudge anything of His disposition, but always with fear and reverence pray Him, that in the manner He Himself knows He may come to your aid. If any evils still remain in you, may He piously wash them away; if any good things have been begun, may He kindly bring them to perfection, and lead you to Himself by the way that He Himself shall will. What more shall I say to you? Is there yet anything we can say to show forth His love?
I speak to you, my soul: is there anything? What do you say? If you tell your own things, you will not be able to tell another's. If your own and another's, yet not all. For who can tell all? And yet we know that the origin of all things is charity. Behold, two are born, the same nobility of birth in both, the same hour of nativity. The one is left in poverty, the other is exalted with riches, and charity works upon both, because it both humbles this one by poverty and consoles that one by abundance. This one is weak, and that one is strong. That one is held back lest he accomplish evil; this one is strengthened, that he may grow vigorous unto a good work; charity approves both, it does not reprove. The one is illumined through wisdom, the other is left in the simplicity of his own understanding.
The one, that he may study to despise himself; the other, that he may study to acknowledge his Creator; yet to both charity willed to be present. Such is the love of God toward us, nor does human infirmity endure anything at all which He (so far as is in His goodness) does not dispose unto our good. A CONFESSION. I confess to You Your mercies, O Lord my God, that You have not abandoned me, sweetness of my life and light of my eyes. What shall I render to You for all that You have bestowed upon me? (Ps. 115). You wish that I love You — and how shall I love You? how much shall I love You? who am I that I should love You?
And yet let me love You, O Lord, my strength, my firmament, my refuge, my deliverer, my God, my helper, my protector, the horn of my salvation, and my upholder; and what more shall I yet say? You are the Lord my God (Ps. 17). O my soul, what shall we do for the Lord our God, from whom we have received so many and so great good things? For He was not content to bestow upon us the same good things (which He bestows on others also), but in our evils too we acknowledge Him as a singular lover, so that we may singularly love Him as much for our good things as for all our evils. You have given to me, O Lord, that I should acknowledge You, and that, above many others, I should understand things revealed of Your secrets.
Others, my contemporaries, You left in the darkness of ignorance, and into me, above them, You poured the light of Your wisdom. You have given to me to know You more truly, to love You more purely, to believe in You more sincerely, to follow You more ardently. You have given to me a capacious mind, a ready understanding, a tenacious memory, an eloquent tongue, a gracious speech, a persuasive teaching, effectiveness in work, grace in conversation, advancement in studies, accomplishment in undertakings, solace in adversities, caution in prosperities; and wherever I turned myself, everywhere Your grace and mercy went before me. And You did all things for me: often when I seemed to myself consumed, suddenly You delivered me; when I was straying, You led me back; when I was ignorant, You taught me;
when I sinned, You rebuked me; when I was sorrowful, You consoled me; when I despaired, You strengthened me; when I fell, You raised me up; when I stood, You held me; when I went, You led me; when I came, You received me. All these things You did for me, O Lord my God, and many others of which it will always be sweet for me to think, always to speak, always to give thanks, that I may praise and love You for all Your benefits, O Lord my God. Behold, you have, my soul, your pledge, and in your pledge you recognize your bridegroom; keep yourself untouched for Him, keep yourself unpolluted, keep yourself whole, keep yourself unstained.
If once you were a harlot, now you have been made a virgin, even as His love is wont to restore integrity to the corrupted, and to preserve chastity in the unstained. But always consider how great a mercy He has wrought with you, and in this weigh how greatly you are loved by Him, in that you know His benefit has never been lacking to you. SOUL. Truly I confess that this love is deservedly called singular, which, though it diffuses itself among many, yet so uniquely embraces each one. Truly a beautiful and wondrous good, which is common to all, and wholly the possession of each.
Presiding over all, filling each one, present everywhere, exercising care over all, and yet providing for individuals as though for all. So indeed it seems to me, when I consider His mercies toward me: that (if it is right to say so) God in a way does nothing else but provide for my salvation, and I see Him so wholly occupied in guarding me, as if He had forgotten everyone else and willed to attend to me alone. Always He shows Himself present, always He offers Himself ready; wherever I turn, He does not forsake me; wherever I am, He does not withdraw; whatever I do, He likewise stands by;