論真福（八福講道） 第 1 章 第 4/6 段

and that 'Everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it shall be opened';

so that both to obtain what is longed for, and to find what is sought, and to come to be within the things desired, lie within our power whenever we will, and depend upon our own resolve.

With which there is consistently established also the contrary notion: that the inclination toward the worse likewise arises with no necessity constraining from without, but the choosing of evil comes into being simultaneously with itself, evil then coming into existence when we choose it;

but evil in itself, according to its own subsistence, apart from choice, is nowhere found to have any existence.

From these things the self-governing and self-determining power, which the Lord of nature built into the nature of men, is clearly demonstrated, through the fact that all things — whether good or worse — depend upon our own choice;

and that the divine judgement, with an incorruptible and just

vote following upon our own purpose, apportions to each that very thing which each happens to have provided for himself;

to some, as the Apostle says, who by patience in good work seek glory and honour, life eternal;

but to those who are disobedient to the truth, but obey unrighteousness, wrath and tribulation, and all things that are names of the gloomy recompense.

For just as accurate mirrors show such reflections of faces as the faces themselves are — bright in the case of those who are radiant, but downcast in the case of those who are gloomy —

and no one would blame the nature of the mirror, if the image should appear gloomy because the original had fallen into dejection;

so also the just judgement of God is made to correspond to our own dispositions, providing to us from our own resources such things as those which proceed from us.

did they make the Deity toward themselves? The rich man, dissolved in luxuries, did not show mercy to the poor man who lay in wretchedness at his gate; therefore he cuts off mercy from himself, begging to be shown mercy and not being heard;

not because one drop would have brought loss to the great fountain of paradise, but because the drop of mercy has no admixture with harshness.

For what fellowship has light with darkness? 'Whatsoever a man sows,' He says, 'that shall he also reap';

for he who sows to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption;

but he who sows to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life eternal.

The sowing, I think, is the human free will;

and the harvest is the recompense given in return for that free choice.

Abundant is the ear of good things for those who have chosen such a sowing;

but toilsome is the gathering of thorns for those who cast thorny seeds into life.

For each must by all means reap that very thing which he has sown, and it cannot be otherwise.

'Blessed are the merciful, for they themselves shall obtain mercy.'

What human discourse could fully traverse the depth of the meanings that lie within this saying? For the absolute and undefined character of the utterance gives us something more than what is spoken to inquire into, namely, that it does not add who those are toward whom it is fitting that mercy should be active;

but says simply that 'Blessed are the merciful.'

For perhaps by what has been said the Word hints to us something of this kind: that upon the blessed mourning there should follow the disposition of mercy.

For there too he was counted blessed who passed the life here in mourning;

and here it seems to me that the Word intimates the same teaching.

For just as we are moved at the misfortunes of others, whenever some of those dear to us are involved in some unwished-for sorrows—whether cast out from their ancestral home, or saved naked from a shipwreck, or fallen into the hands of pirates or robbers, or made slaves from being free, or captives from being prosperous, or having received in exchange some other such evil—those who until then were reckoned to be passing their life in some good fortune;

just as, then, in these cases a certain painful fellow-feeling arises in our souls,

so perhaps it would be far more opportune to devote such a reflection to ourselves, on account of the unworthy plight into which our own life has been cast.

For whenever we reckon what was that splendid home of ours from which we have fallen;

how we have come under the robbers;

how, sunk into the deep of this present life, we have been stripped bare;

what and how many masters we have drawn upon ourselves in place of our freedom and self-governed manner of living;

how we have cut short the blessed part of life with death and corruption;

is it then possible, if we take these thoughts to heart, for our mercy to be occupied with the misfortunes of others, and not rather for the soul itself to be pitiably disposed, as it reckons both what it once possessed and from what things it has fallen? For what is more pitiable than this captivity of ours? Instead of the delight in paradise, we have been allotted in life this sickly and toilsome place;

instead of that freedom from suffering, we have received the countless deaths of the passions;

instead of that lofty manner of living and life together with the angels, we have been condemned to dwell with the beasts of the earth;

having exchanged the angelic and passionless life for the brutish one, who could easily comprise in number the bitter tyrants of our life, the raging and savage masters? A bitter master is anger;

hatred, the passion that goes with arrogance, is a raging and savage tyrant;

and undisciplined reasoning revels as though over purchased slaves, when it enslaves nature to the passionate and impure services;

and as for the tyranny of covetousness, what excess of bitterness does it not surpass? Having enslaved the wretched soul, it constantly compels it to fill its insatiable desires, always receiving and never being filled;

like some many-headed beast, passing on nourishment through countless mouths to its unfillable belly;

for which there is never any satiety of gaining;

but what is always taken becomes matter and fuel for the desire of yet more.

It is the same as what those suffer who are deranged from madness, from whom the very excess of the evil has taken away even the perception of what they suffer.

If, then, someone should come to know himself—what sort he formerly was, and what sort he is at present—

and Solomon too says somewhere that 'Those who know themselves are wise'—

such a one will never cease from showing mercy, and upon such a disposition of the soul the divine mercy also, as is fitting, will follow.

'Blessed are the merciful, for they themselves shall obtain mercy.'

For in this the term makes itself plain, as though one were to say, 'It is a blessed thing to take care of bodily health.'

For the one who takes care will himself live in health;

so the merciful one is counted blessed, because the fruit of mercy becomes the merciful person's own possession;

whether according to the meaning now found by us,

or according to the one examined before—I mean the one that shows the soul's compassion in the misfortunes of others—

for each is alike a good thing: both to have mercy on oneself in the manner spoken of, and to suffer together with the calamities of one's neighbors;

because the justice of the divine judgment displays the disposition shown toward those beneath a man upon the authority that is above him;

so that in a certain way a man becomes his own judge, casting the vote for himself in the judgment upon his subordinates.

Since, then, it has been believed—and truly believed—that all human nature will be set before the judgment-seat of Christ, that each may receive the things done through the body, according to what he has done, whether good or evil;

perhaps it is even bold to say it,

whether it is possible to grasp by reasoning the things unspeakable and unseen, and already to perceive the blessedness of the recompense given to those who are shown mercy.

For the goodwill that arises in souls toward those who display mercy remains, throughout life, as is fitting, forever with those who have partaken of the grace.

What, then, is likely at the time of the examination, if the benefactor should be recognized by those who have been well treated—how will he be disposed in soul, being praised before God amid the grateful voices of all creation? Will he stand in need of any other blessing, he who is proclaimed for his noble deeds in so great a theater? For that those who have been well treated will be present, the voice of the Gospel teaches, in the King's judgment upon the righteous and upon the sinners.

For toward both he uses the demonstrative, as though by a finger making known what lies above:

'Inasmuch as ye did it to one of these the least of my brethren.'

For the saying 'of these' points to the presence of those who have been well treated.

Now let him speak to me who prefers the lifeless matter of riches to the blessedness to come:

What splendor of gold is such as this? What are the gleams of precious stones? What adornment of garments is such as that good thing which hope sets before us? When the King of creation reveals himself to human nature, seated in majesty upon the lofty throne; when the innumerable myriads of angels are seen about him; and indeed when the unutterable kingdom of the heavens comes before the eyes of all, and again, on the opposite side, the fearful places of punishment are displayed;

and in the midst of these all human nature—of those who have come into being from the first creation up to the consummation of all things—stands suspended in fear and hope of the things to come, often trembling at the outcome that awaits it on either side;

and when those who have lived with a good conscience are yet in doubt about the future, whenever they see others dragged by an evil conscience into that gloomy darkness, as though by some executioner? If this man, amid the auspicious and grateful voices of those whom he has well treated, be brought before the Judge, radiant with confidence on account of his works;

while that other, having judged the matter buried away with him in secret to be more precious, be dragged headlong into the dark fire;

with all who in this life have had experience of him bringing forward against him his relentlessness and savagery, and saying:

'Remember that thou didst receive thy good things in thy lifetime;

thou didst shut up mercy together with thyself in the strongholds of wealth, and didst leave compassion behind upon the earth;

thou didst not carry over to the life here thy love of mankind;

thou findest not what thou didst not lay up;

thou gatherest not what thou didst not scatter;

thou reapest not the seeds thou didst not cast down;

worthy of thy sowing is thy harvest;

thou didst sow bitterness, reap the sheaves;

thou didst honor mercilessness, have what thou didst love;

thou didst overlook the afflicted, thou shalt be overlooked as thou perishest.'

'Thou didst flee mercy, mercy shall flee thee;

thou didst abhor the poor, he who became poor for thy sake shall abhor thee.'

If these and such things be said, where then is the gold? Where the splendid vessels? Where the security laid upon the treasures by means of the seals? Where the dogs stationed for the night-watches, and the array of weapons against those who plot against you? The record written down in the books? What are these things in the face of the weeping and the gnashing of teeth? Who will illumine the darkness? Who will quench the flame? Who will turn back the unending worm? Let us then, brethren, take to heart the voice of the Lord, which in few words instructs us so greatly concerning the things to come;

and let us become merciful, that thereby we may become blessed, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be the glory and the might unto the ages of ages.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

What is likely to befall those who, from some lofty crag, bend down over an immense sea — this is what my mind has experienced from the sublime voice of the Lord, as though from the summit of a mountain, when it looks down into the impassable depth of these thoughts.

For just as one may see, in many coastal places, a mountain cleft in two, along the seaward side shorn away in a straight line from summit down into the deep, and at its upper edge some jutting peak leans out toward the abyss;

the experience, then, that would likely befall one gazing from such a lookout, from a great height down into the sea lying in the depth below —

even so does my soul now grow dizzy, suspended aloft within this great utterance of the Lord:

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

God is set before those who have cleansed their heart, as the spectacle to be beheld.

No one has ever seen God, as John the great one says;

and Paul, lofty in mind, casts his vote likewise, saying:

that He is one whom no man has seen, nor can see.

This is that smooth and sheer rock which offers upon itself no foothold for the mind's conceptions — the rock which Moses likewise declared inaccessible to the doctrines of his own understanding, so that in no way can our mind draw near, since every apprehension is scraped away by the negation.

For it says: There is no one who shall see the Lord and live.

Yet surely eternal life is precisely this: to see God.

But this the pillars of the faith — John and Paul and Moses — declare to be impossible.

Do you see the dizziness into which the soul is dragged down toward the depth of what is contemplated in the saying? If God is life, then he who has not seen Him does not behold life;

yet that it is not possible to see God, the God-bearing prophets and apostles testify.

In what, then, does hope for men come to stand? But the Lord upholds the hope that is falling.

Just as He did in the case of Peter, when he was in danger of sinking, again setting him upon the firm and resisting surface of the water.

If, then, the hand of the Word should come upon us also, and, when we are tossing unsteadily in the depth of these contemplations, should set us upon another thought, we shall be beyond fear, having laid firm hold on the Word that leads us by the hand.

...the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

The promise, then, is of such magnitude as to surpass the very highest limit of blessedness.

For what else could anyone desire, after so great a good, when he possesses all things in what he has beheld? For in the customary usage of Scripture, to see means the same as to have;

as in the passage, Mayest thou see the good things of Jerusalem, where the word signifies instead 'Mayest thou find';

and in, Let the impious man be taken away, that he may not see the glory of the Lord, where by 'not seeing' the prophet makes clear 'not partaking'.

Therefore he who has seen God has, through the seeing, gained everything that is reckoned in the catalogue of good things: unending life, everlasting incorruption, immortal blessedness, a kingdom without end, joy that never ceases, the true light, the spiritual and sweet voice, the unapproachable glory, perpetual exultation, and every good.

That, then, which is set before us in hope in the promise of blessedness, is of such a kind and of such greatness.

But since the manner of the seeing has been shown to be through becoming pure in heart,

in this too my mind again grows dizzy, lest perhaps purity of heart be among the things impossible and surpassing our nature.

For if it is through this that God is seen —

yet Moses and Paul did not see, and declared that neither He himself nor any other could be seen — then that which is now set before us by the Word in the beatitude seems to be something impossible.

What profit, then, is there for us in knowing how God is seen, if the possibility of it is not present to our thought? For such a thing is like this: as if someone were to say that it is blessed to be in heaven,

since there one will behold what is not seen in this life. For if there were some contrivance for the journey up to heaven set forth in advance by the discourse,

then to learn that it is a blessed thing to be in that place would be useful to the hearers.

But so long as the ascent remains impossible, what profit does the knowledge of the heavenly blessedness bring — save only to grieve those who have learned of what good things we are deprived because of the impossibility of the ascent? Does the Lord, then, command something beyond our nature, and by the grandeur of His injunction overstep the measures of human power? These things are not so.

For He does not command those to become winged in whom He implanted no wing, nor those to live under water to whom He allotted a life on dry land.

If, then, in all other matters the law is suited to the power of those who receive it, and forces nothing beyond nature,

then by consistent reasoning we shall certainly understand this also: that what is shown forth through the beatitude is not beyond hope.

But that John too, and Paul, and Moses, and any other who is of their rank, have not fallen away from this lofty blessedness which comes from seeing God; nor has he who said, There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the righteous judge will render to me; nor he who reclined upon the breast of Jesus; nor he who heard from the divine voice, I have known thee above all.

If, then, those men — concerning whom it has been proclaimed that the comprehension of God is beyond their power — are not doubted to be blessed;

and blessedness consists in seeing God, and this comes from becoming pure in heart;

then purity of heart, through which it is possible to become blessed, is not impossible.

The divine nature, in itself, whatever it may be according to its essence, transcends every comprehending conception, being inaccessible and unapproachable to conjectural notions; and no power has yet been discovered by men for the comprehension of what is beyond apprehension;

nor has any comprehending approach to those impossibilities been devised;

no trace of a comprehending conception has been signified, in the knowledge, to those who have gone before in this life, of the matter that is beyond knowledge.

Yet, being such according to His nature — He who is above all nature — the invisible and uncircumscribed One is nevertheless both seen and comprehended in another way.

And the modes of such comprehension are many.

For it is possible, through the wisdom that appears in the universe, to behold conjecturally Him who has made all things in wisdom.

Just as in the case of human works of craftsmanship, the maker of the object set before us is in a manner beheld by the mind, having deposited his skill in his work.

Yet it is not the nature of the craftsman that is seen, but only the technical knowledge which the artisan deposited in the work.

So too, when we look upon the order in creation, we form for ourselves a notion not of the essence, but of the wisdom of Him who has made all things wisely.

And if we reckon up the cause of our own life — that it was not out of necessity, but out of a good purpose, that He came to create man — again through this mode too we say that we have beheld God, having come into the perception of His goodness, not of His essence;

so likewise all other things which lead our thought up to what is better and higher — such things we call comprehension of God, each of the lofty conceptions bringing God before our sight.

For power, and purity, and constancy, and freedom from admixture with the contrary, and all such things, imprint upon our souls the image of a certain divine and lofty conception.

Therefore it is shown, through what has been said, how the Lord speaks truly in promising that God shall be seen by those who have a pure heart;

and how Paul does not lie in declaring, through his own words, that no one has seen God nor can see Him.

For He who is invisible by nature becomes visible in His energies, being beheld in certain things that are about Him.

But the mind of the beatitude does not look only to this — that from some operation it is possible to reason out the character of Him who operates;

for perhaps even the wise men of this age might, through the harmonious ordering of the world, attain the comprehension of the transcendent wisdom and power.

But it seems to me that the sublime greatness of the beatitude suggests other counsel to those who are able to receive it, so that they may behold what is longed for;

and the thought that has occurred to me will be made clear through examples.

Health of the body is a good thing according to human life;

but it is blessed not merely to know the account of health, but to live in health.

For if someone, while reciting praises of health, were to choose unwholesome and ill-humoured food,

what benefit did he gain from the praises of health, while being worn down by sicknesses? So then let us understand the present saying too in this way: that the Lord does not say it is blessed to know something about God;

but rather to have God within oneself.

For blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

For it does not seem to me that He sets God before the one who has purified the eye of his soul as some spectacle facing him;

but rather this, perhaps, is what the sublime greatness of the saying suggests to us — that which the discourse elsewhere sets forth more plainly to others, when it says that the kingdom of God is within you;

so that we may be taught that he who has cleansed his own heart from every affection of creation and passionate disposition, beholds within his own beauty the image of the divine nature.

And it seems to me that in the few words which He spoke, the Word contains counsel of this kind:

O men, as many of you as have any longing for the contemplation of that which is truly good, when you hear that the divine majesty is exalted above the heavens, that its glory is beyond interpretation, its beauty beyond utterance, and its nature beyond containing,

do not fall into despair, as though it were impossible to behold that which you desire.

For the measure of the apprehension of God that lies within your capacity is within yourself.

For thus did He who formed you at once endow your nature with such a good.

For God imprinted upon your fashioning the copies of the good things of His own nature, having pre-stamped them as it were upon wax with the figure of an engraving.

but [evil,] being poured around it, rendered the good useless for you, hidden away beneath shameful coverings.

If, then, by careful living you should again wash away the filth that has been overlaid upon your heart, the God-like beauty will shine forth in you.

Just as it is wont to happen with iron: when by the whetstone it has been stripped bare of rust, that which a little before was black now flashes with certain rays toward the sun and gives off gleams of light;

so also the inner man, whom the Lord calls the heart, when he has scraped off the rusty filth that had bloomed upon his form through the mould of the evil one, will again take up the likeness to the Archetype, and will be good.

For that which is like the good is in every way good.

Therefore he who beholds himself beholds within himself that which he desires;

and thus he who is pure in heart becomes blessed, because, looking toward his own purity, he beholds in the image the Archetype.

For just as those who behold the sun in a mirror, even though they do not gaze steadily up at the very heaven, see the sun in the gleam of the mirror no less than those who look upon the sun's very disk;

so too, he says, do you also, even though you are too weak to apprehend the light, if you run back to the grace of the image implanted in you from the beginning, you have within yourselves that which you seek.

For purity, freedom from passion, and estrangement from every evil—this is the Godhead.

If, then, these things are in you, God is assuredly in you.

When, therefore, the reasoning within you is unmixed with any evil, free from passion, and separated from every defilement, blessed are you in your keen sight, because, having been cleansed, you have apprehended that which is unseeable to the unpurified; and, the material mist having been removed from the eyes of the soul, in the pure clear air of the heart you behold with far-shining vision the blessed spectacle.

And what is this? Purity, sanctification, simplicity, and all such things—the light-bearing radiances of the divine nature, through which God is seen.

But that these things are so, we do not doubt, from what has been said.

Yet our discourse still sees the difficulty raised at the outset standing in the same perplexity.

For just as one who has come to be in heaven partakes of the heavenly wonders,

yet the manner of the ascent is impracticable—so that none of the things agreed upon does us any profit;

so likewise it is not doubted that, from the purifying of the heart, one becomes blessed;

but how one might cleanse it of the things that have defiled it seems to be plainly as difficult as the ascent to heaven.

What ladder of Jacob, then? What fiery chariot shall be found, like that which raised the prophet Elijah up to heaven, by which our heart, lifted up toward the wonders on high, may shake off this earthly weight? For if one should consider the necessary passions of the soul, he will think the departure from the evils yoked to us to be impossible and impracticable.

Straightway our coming-into-being begins from passion, and through passion our growth advances, and into passion our life comes to its end; and evil has somehow been commingled with our nature through those who from the beginning admitted the passion—through those who by disobedience settled the disease within.

And just as, by the succession of those born in each species, the nature of living creatures passes through together, so that that which is born is, according to the principle of nature, the same as that from which it was born;

so man is born from man, one subject to passion from one subject to passion, a sinner from a sinner.

Thus in a certain way sin co-subsists with those who come into being, being born together with them and growing together with them, and coming to its end together with the limit of life.

But that virtue is hard for us to attain, achieved with difficulty only through countless sweats and toils, through diligence and labor, we have been taught in many places by the divine Scripture, having heard that the road of the kingdom is straitened and passes through a narrow way, whereas the road that leads life through evil to destruction is broad and downhill and easily run.

Yet Scripture did not define the lofty life as altogether impracticable—the same Scripture which set forth in the sacred books the wondrous deeds of so many men.

But since the meaning is twofold in the promise of seeing God—

[the one concerning] a nature transcendent, and the other concerning being commingled with Him through purity of life;

the voice of the saints defines the former kind of apprehension to be impracticable;

but the Lord promises the second to human nature through the present teaching, when He says, 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.'

And how it is possible to become pure, this you may learn through nearly the whole of the evangelical teaching.

For if you run over the precepts that follow, you will find the cleansing of the heart made clear.

For having divided evil into two—that which subsists through deeds, and that which subsists in thoughts—He first, through the ancient law, chastised the injustice made manifest through deeds; but now He has caused the law to look toward the other kind of sin, not punishing the wicked deed, but making provision that it should not even have its beginning.

For to root out evil from the will is far more excellent than to make one's life clear of wicked deeds.

And since evil is manifold and of many kinds, He set over against each of the forbidden things its own remedy through the precepts.

And since the sickness of anger is, for the most part, ready at hand throughout the whole of life, He begins the remedy from that which more especially prevails, laying down freedom from anger as the first of His laws.

You were taught, He says, by the more ancient law, 'You shall not kill'; now learn to separate from the soul the anger against those of your own kind.

For He did not forbid anger altogether;

for it is possible sometimes even to use such an impulse of the soul for good; but to be angry with one's brother at some time for no good end—this the precept extinguished.

'For everyone who is angry with his brother without cause . . .'