聖山宣言 第 1 章 第 13/17 段

as those who taught us did in every way—not, indeed, in persuasive words of human wisdom, but we pursue divine things in a divine manner, from the Spirit-moved power of the theologians; and those Fathers named such reasoning 'demonstrative,' as has been shown above.

What strange thing, then, am I doing, my friend, if—choosing to do what is dear to the Fathers—I gather from every side what help I can in argument, not unaware that this does not please Aristotle and the son of Ariston (Plato), but preferring what seemed good to the Fathers over their idle chatter, and knowing that the knowledge found in those men concerning divine things is not safe—even if, be well assured, this does not seem good to you, who are wrongly minded, though you are ranked with us and cling to the same faith?

You string together their arguments which run thus: that concerning things above us a vision must come from on high, and an intellectual light must shine forth, through which it is possible to be conjoined to the divine, and that, better than by demonstration, one possesses those concentrated, simple, and indivisible contemplations; and that those who have heard from such men and believed them are not, indeed, knowers, yet are admirable and to be emulated for their resolve, their docility, and their reverence toward divine things and these divine men. And upon this you set out (p. ...)

your own opinion concerning them, teaching it thus: 'Whenever I hear them saying these things, I cannot but suppose that they too have been enlightened by God and have become superior to the many.'

What is this that you are saying, O man?

Have those men come to share in an intellectual and divine light?

Have they seen and experienced the radiance of God?

Have they communed with God above wisdom, above reason, above mind?

Rather—that I may make the beginning of my discourse from these very men, demolishing those whom you vainly attempted to exalt, or, to speak more truly, showing them to have been long since demolished, whom you out of season hymn as though they were set on high—those who say that 'to know God is difficult, but to express him is impossible': did they really comprehend God's transcendence, men who do not even say that the human conception is a comprehension? So that even what they call 'beyond demonstration' they call so on account of the insufficiency of expression, while, by the vision within themselves, they call themselves—as you yourself said—knowers of divine things?

So that the demonstration spoken of by us concerning divine things is incomparably superior to that 'beyond demonstration' of theirs.

And had I leisure, I would have shown you also those visions of theirs—through which they claim to be conjoined to the divine—how they lead men away from things truly divine, and how their lofty contemplations, while departing from the middle reasonings of the soul and all natural summits, fall into where 'a bottomless abyss is ever spread out,' dark all about, foul, mindless; and the intellectual light that flashed upon them does not draw them up into a region of light, but condemns them under eternal gloom—a snare and a dread ambush devised by the prince of darkness, so cunningly contrived under concealment that through mere hearing it can lead astray those not well trained to discern good from evil. For through this one (p. ...)

by this one device of irresistibly evil contrivance, he both transfixed those 'seers' with every deceit, and ensnared within his own intricate nets those who listened to them as to enlightened men, and reaches even to those who shall come after, by the surplus of his malice, through their writings.

For if he himself, being darkness in the very essence, feigns himself an angel of light, as the Apostle says, what wonder is it that those whom he has befooled by the counterfeit light—who have lodged him wholly within themselves and through him utter their words—should feign themselves ministers of the true light, that is, of those enlightened in God, so that they too may accomplish the works of their father, leading the many astray by the comeliness of their words?

'For his ministers also,' he says, 'disguise themselves as ministers of righteousness.'

And how is it that 'the world through wisdom did not know God,' if the supreme height of the knowledge of God is the vision of God, and to this Socrateses and Platos and the wise men of their kind, and those who heard them and believed, attained—worthy of all admiration for their resolve and reverence toward divine things?

And how, 'being wise, did they become fools,' if indeed they were enlightened—and it is not that they themselves became fools while their wisdom has a share of understanding?

He who applies his mind to it (worldly wisdom) as though about to be guided by it toward the knowledge of God, suffers this very thing and is made a fool, though he is wise.

And what of vainglory, and the haughty conceit yoked to it like a rider on horseback, with which our Fathers charge those men?

Does not the Apostle say that this is a judgment most peculiar to the devil?

Does not the Lord set himself against the proud?

(p. ...) Does he appear through light to those whom he opposes?

How shall the grace given to the humble be lodged in those who are their opposites?

And do not our Fathers know the conceit and vainglory of those men—and do not those men themselves bear witness to this against one another?

'I trample,' says Diogenes, 'on the conceit of Plato.'

'With another conceit, Diogenes,' Plato declared in counter-accusation.

Do you see how they attested the conceit to one another?

And to Plato vainglory seemed so good a thing that he even called it a cause of our noblest deeds, and said that it best assists us in this.

Do you see a wisdom made foolish, and darkness, or false light, laying down laws of its rays against the true Light, which says, 'Do not (do your deeds) to be seen by men'?

Did those men possess, through light, Him who sees in secret—they who were so excited toward the glory of men, and who for its sake endure to say and do everything, and persuade others to do likewise?

Hear Paul, the true seer of God and speaker of God, upon whom a truly divine vision came from on high, on whom too the true intellectual light shone, supernatural as it was, in whom, as in a hearth, it rested abundantly—wherefore he is called 'a chosen vessel,' through whom also the divine things were made known by initiation.

'Do all things to the glory of God.'

'If I were still pleasing men, I would not be a servant of Christ.'

Do you recognize the tree by its fruit?

Then has not that which bears opposite fruit clearly shown itself to be of an opposite root as well?

And what else is the opposite of light but darkness, even though it feigns itself light and escapes the notice of those who have never drawn near to the true light?

(p. ...) Therefore it is not safe for those who do not know how to commune with God to speak about God, nor for those who do not know the immaterial light above this light that falls under sense-perception to judge concerning it—men who have not had the intellectual part of the soul perfected by the intellectual and true light, nor truly found the life hidden in Christ and risen in the first resurrection.

But those who have been blessed with this, and have a heart like a Lydian touchstone—purified and most discerning—by which you could not deceive them if you brought brass colored over with a flower of melted gold; whose senses too are exercised to discern good and evil, and whose hearing you could not charm, nor cheat, nor persuade, even though you arrange and dispose your words most attractively, plausibly, and very fittingly; for they are clever, even through these words, to detect the distasteful, unseemly, and abominable quality of the deceit lurking within—they may well say that the 'conjunction' (with the divine) is well fitted to those who, in blindness, feign to be seers there; for they have unwittingly stripped bare their own deception.

For the evil spirit is bound to, not united with, those wretched souls; wherefore, just as the light of delusion stands beside them from without and to the end, not according to the soul's gathering and turning back into itself—for this always guides unerringly toward the divine—not, then, according to that turning, but according to the discursive activity through reasonings, that is, conceptions, do the effects of delusion arise, whenever someone, without intellectual silence, reaches out for the mystery of contemplation.

(p. ...) Even if, after this, it (the spirit) escapes notice and remains with the soul, in cases where it feigns the good and through these things is bound to it—yet it is not united with it.

For only the good Spirit can pass through wholly and through all 'intellectual, pure, most subtle spirits,' as it seems good to Solomon and to truth.

And the initiated know and say that the mutual connection (with God) does not afford a conjunction in a few parts or powers, but is, as it were, a commingling of the indwelling light of grace with the soul—wondrous, well-nigh unspeakable and unheard-of.

For what discourse could set forth how it both diffuses itself to every soul and yet remains in itself without going forth, and contains the whole, and is partaken indivisibly in the part, and becomes participable yet has no commingled communion with that which partakes, and is unmixed and intangible; and how the one Spirit, in contemplation, becomes one with those who through pure prayer commune with God, according to the prayer of the common Father to his own Father on our behalf: 'Grant them,' he says, 'that as I, Father, am in you and you in me, so they also may be one in us in truth.'

And the surpassing greatness of God's love toward us is most clearly set forth through this commingling.

For to make the many one is the most proper mark of love; and in various ways love becomes the gatherer of things separated. Most men think to effect the union by likeness; whence too there is that old, oft-repeated, much-bruited saying: 'likeness is friendship.'

And the marriage bond seems to have something more than the others; yet neither is that a growing-together nor a commingling, but by a certain intercourse and adhesion, according to Scripture, the many become one: 'For a man,' it says, 'shall leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave to his wife (p. ...)

) and the two shall be one flesh'—one flesh only, and not also one spirit.

But the union of God with those counted worthy, surpassing every mode of union in being complete, and greater than discourse can contain—the union of the Spirit through the whole of the pure spirits—shows the love of God to be surpassing and indeed the only true love; for it alone, in a supramundane manner, folds together and gathers the lovers compactly into one.

By what manner it ferries this grace, through the soul, even to the body conjoined to this pure and grace-filled soul—now is not the time to say.

But the demonic spirit could never thus pass through the whole soul; rather, having fallen from the company above, it tries to regain it—wickedly, yet through a longing answering to its fall, as far as it can—by assimilating to itself those whom it deludes. And the desire that it has diverted from the soul—turning it from one thing to another, yet toward one, into which all of it has been perverted—through this finding entrance and rest among them, it is conjoined to those whom it has perverted, as though sneaking up under one yoke bearing the longing toward the same end, and holding as it were the dominion of perdition, and at times, through the conjunction, drawing the wretches toward it even against their will; thus it herds and consorts with this, by such contacts, such entanglements, or things close to them. In such a case, then, 'conjunction' is the fitting word.

But how could true contemplation be a 'conjunction'?

And how could the light of their contemplation be truly 'concentrated and simple and indivisible,' seeing that it by no means freed them from their many and wicked opinions, nor gathered the 'seers' into a uniform and true knowledge?

(...) a most fruitful tree—but we have not the discerning power sufficiently to reach the richness of the root; come then, let us look again from the fruits, that is, from the works, at the 'enlightenment' of Socrates and Plato and those of their kind.

Whence, then, may we accurately come to know it?

From the laws of unlawful marriage? or from the deeds of pederasty? or from their doctrines concerning gods and demons and heroes? or from that monstrous tale poured out over our souls, which pours them down from heaven and decants them, wandering on earth from bodies into bodies—unfitting ones—before they sink down or rise up, according as each of them was unfortunate or fortunate in its inclination?

Did not even the daemon that accompanied Socrates, whom he obeyed throughout his life, reveal to you, our philosopher, what their 'enlightenment' was?

Nor, from the serpent that appeared at the death of Plotinus the Platonist, were you able to discern what their 'enlightenment' was, and what the daemon associated with them—which he called 'divine,' the thing within himself, as he himself says, and which he was eager to lead up to that 'divine' both throughout his life and at his death?

But hear Apollo of Pytho, and you will learn whence their 'enlightenment' came. For when Amelius, Plotinus's companion, asked where the soul of the deceased had gone, Apollo himself 'wove honeyed words about his gentle friend,' and turning toward the very soul of Plotinus, among other things he sang this also: 'Often, when the darts of your mind were striving to be borne along crooked paths by their own impulses, the immortals set you straight upon the circuits of the right-coursing, immortal way, granting a frequent ray of light to your eyes; now (p. ...)

) now that you have loosed the tent (the body) and left the tomb of your daemonic soul, you go already to the assembly of daemons.'

And what wonder is it if, with the father of falsehood, darkness is, for deception, shown forth as light, and the names too, along with the things, are falsely changed into one another—the crooked and the straight?

And you, calling those men 'enlightened' along with Apollo, might perhaps persuade us to celebrate Platonic and Socratic festivals too—since, when Proclus of Lyceum used to celebrate these annually, a light was once seen by his fellow initiates flashing around his head; but this in turn showed us whence that light, shining around his very head, came: namely, the creeping serpent that appeared around it as he was dying; and he himself, while still living, did not disdain to declare whence that light blazed upon him.

For making use of Chaldean purifications, as he himself says, he communed with Hecatic apparitions, luminous and self-seen; but the true theologian says that Hecate's apparitions are dark.

Do you see clearly how that 'light' is darkness in the very essence?

This, then, is greater and clearer than the former scandal.

Shall we then enroll divination among the best of human pursuits, and be declared pleasing to the most oracular (p.) Phoebus, holding as firm the proclamation, handed down from that source, that our wisdom and what accords with it surpasses many or all?

...the unholy stains wiped off from these things, which they deem worthy that those 'enlightened' men should speak?

Do you not hear the one who says, 'Away with Plato's Ideas for me'—certain prefigurings and rehearsals before the deeds, in the mind, neither without passion nor befitting men—'(they belong) rather to those who build, who fear the failure that sometimes befalls them from rashness, than to God, whose very conception is also a work'?

But if the conception too is a work, and before this there will be need of other paradigms and prefigurings, then there will be Ideas of the Ideas as well, and this to infinity—unless indeed that man assigns something more to the said Ideas, and more wickedly.

But let us leave this aside; and I would add to you, saying: away not with the Ideas only, but also with the 'contemplations' and the falsely-named 'lights' of his, through which he was conjoined to the deceitful daemons and through which he was initiated to believe that there are not only evil but also good daemons, and an 'aether-soul' and 'circuits of souls,' and toward these, through beautiful bodies, the not-beautiful loves.

And what of the 'first gods' and 'second gods,' and those still less than these in nature and power—of whom some traverse the convex of the heavenly sphere, some range beneath its concave, and some are earthly and subterranean, these being no longer rulers of mortals but of the dead?

Are these things, then, about those who have fallen from above and those illumined by them—that is, having the intellectual part of their soul darkened, and from a vision arising from below—or about things above us, and from the vision from on high?

And what—that again, from the true and rightly-named and sacred and genuine voice belonging to theology, we may disparage the falsely-named and spurious—what then of Aristotle's petty 'providence,' and his mortal-minded discourses about the soul, and the all-too-human quality of his doctrines?

Is it the saying of one who had comprehended the transcendence of God, and found this 'beyond demonstration' to be the worthiest of all utterances for the divine nature?

Or is this too a manifest error of human thought—and that of a thought darkened and opposed to God, hunting after reputation as though attaining its goal, yet trying to escape the refutation of falsehood, since it cannot demonstrate and impart to others its supernatural and wondrous 'knowledge,' and, in seeming to exalt, dragging down that inconceivable, unhumbled height?

And if we should grant that this opinion does not really belong to that disciple (Aristotle) who only feigned it—though indeed this might have some reason in it—let it nevertheless be granted; yet he too plainly champions a multitude of gods, and assigns least of all the whole dominion to the 'first of the gods,' as he himself says, and undertakes to enumerate the powers that move the bodies which seem to him divine, and ranks the whole daemonic tribe above us, and bestows that most venerable and God-befitting thing, this 'beyond demonstration,' upon such 'divinities,' and on this account reckons these things to be above us.

A great thing, indeed, we should have accomplished, and one common and gracious to those of our portion, if, according to Aristotle (p. ...)

) and his teacher, we should hold the Divine to be 'beyond demonstration'—which their 'knowledge' and 'contemplation' assigns also to the daemons; and you yourself could say it in no other way, just as neither could we, so long as we should choose to live under teachers like Aristotle and Plato.

...(reason gives) us assistance toward the deficiency and the slipping-away that comes from it; and (the human intellect is) last because it is farthest from the highest, and fallen because, being above us before, it was thereafter so thrust away from this dignity and become more material than we, so as to have no hope at all of the return to the supramundane and angel-equal rank which has been promised to us. Not only does this 'genus' (the philosophy) show itself to be such, but also rolling about at our feet to be trodden by us. But (the philosophy) which, on the lowest and basest of rational beings, hunts the true opinion, will be a truthful teacher also concerning the highest things and those above us—for that the knowledge of opposites is the same, sense-perception too would teach.

Do you see how far this 'demonstration' falls short of that 'beyond demonstration' of theirs?

Almost as far as truth from falsehood, knowledge from ignorance, and light from darkness—seeing that it belongs to a false, senseless, and dark thought to call the daemons 'above us' and so to reckon them, but to true and enlightened knowledge to know the dignity given us, 'to tread upon serpents and scorpions and upon all the power of the enemy.' And what, when it (true knowledge) leads one up even to the sure, clear, and true opinion concerning the very Self-Truth—the First and Only and Absolute of all, simply and without limit and supra-essentially self-existent Being?

(p. ...) What, then, is this demonstration of ours, when it bestows even the unerring opinion concerning Him?

Who, preferring above it, or setting on equal footing with it, that 'beyond demonstration' according to Aristotle (as you say), does not bend heaven down to earth and rank holy things with the accursed?

For that you call the Divine 'beyond demonstration,' we too will concede—yet not in so far as you say this according to Aristotle, as you now claim to say it; for grovelling, my good sir, is the man's opinion concerning divine things, and, so to speak, inglorious. For how not, seeing that—to speak apostolically—'having known God, he did not glorify or worship him as God, but became vain in his own reasonings,' attributing the Divine to daemons, ascribing the uncreated to certain creatures, and robbing our souls, so far as in him lay, of immortality?

For the 'intellect from without' (the agent intellect of Aristotle) is nothing to us; and what is by its power, apart from it, is again, according to him, nothing.

Do you understand to what evil the love (of pagan learning) leads—not to be wholly conformed to the God-inspired Scriptures, but even to wish to refute those who use these very Scriptures upon them, while he himself seeks a piety beyond that of the Fathers?

For from this you were stirred up to register the wisdom that has been made foolish as 'enlightened,' those who even brought God under their own conception, saying that to conceive God is 'difficult but not impossible': these, you say, were initiated into the ineffable mysteries by him who appeared to them through light.

But indeed I have unawares been carried away by zeal and by the argument into these long discourses against them, contrary to our present purpose.

I return, then; and having much still to say about many things, I will leave the greater part; but with a few more words, I will then seal the discourse with the fair address of love (p. ...)

) (for in this I know you too will come to be repentant, as I shall have you), refraining from further dwelling on ill-omened matters.

Those, then, whom it is customary in our Church to call 'the outer wise' (pagan philosophers)—as standing outside, that is, the sacred knowledge concerning God—those men, then, did not even conceive that God is incomprehensible to men, calling him only 'hard to comprehend'; but we know God to be incomprehensible not only to our mind, but even to those minds wholly removed from all earthbound abasement, which, on account of their being exalted above the creatures that draw near and minister to the divine majesty, are named 'thrones.'

We say that divine things are removed from all and removed utterly even from demonstration—or rather, we do say so, yet not of that (demonstration) which you, though wishing to glorify it to the utmost, nevertheless call so easily overturned that, when contradicted by any one chance person, it rises up (in dispute) and can no longer be a demonstration.

For the demonstrative syllogism, as you yourself say, seems to all simply to be true, and no dispute arises concerning it.

And you did not even consider this: that, if nothing else, then at least on account of the Pyrrhonist suspensions of judgment, no such demonstration will exist at all; and the things by which you bind and bring forward arithmetic, harmonic, and astronomical science—the geometrical necessities, that is—will become feebler than spiders' threads and will fall apart, dissolved, from your most 'demonstrative' mind. For how could you have premises 'naturally known,' since not even to Sextus and Pyrrho and those of their kind is it possible to agree?

Divine things, then, are not (merely) superior to this (Aristotelian demonstration)—for no one would call the sun 'brighter' than a glow-worm—but also to that handed down by the Fathers; and this not from the opinion of those men (the pagans), (p. ...)

) yet we nonetheless adduce it, as need calls, as far as we can, having as its principle the Spirit-moved power, according to which the God-wise theologians, having communed in a manner above mind with the things above mind, were taught by the grace of God and taught us in imitation of God.

For just as, even though divine things are removed from all and from every word, hymn, and glory of any kind, yet we both speak a word about God and hymn and glorify him as far as is possible, by works and words and sufferings, and call it 'God's glory,' and call the doxology offered up by ourselves a 'hymn of God'—so too we reason and demonstrate, and call the syllogism concerning divine things a 'demonstration,' whether we speak it into the ears of hearers or not; since not every discoursing is even 'dialectic.' And we think we ought to call it by the more venerable name—not exalting our own arguments, as one might suppose, but because we address ourselves more reverently concerning God, in harmony with the voices of the Fathers, and in nothing departing from the manner of the God-given oracles.

Well then; yet now deign to take this to mind: that I have argued with you from the very same things and according to your own (premises), even if you do not very much love what is said as being your own; for they say that 'one's own evil is dear.'

Do not, then, be ill-disposed toward us, nor cease to love (us) as before, just as we ourselves (do not); for thus, even if the matters of our arguments have so chanced to be set in opposition, yet in the loving part of the soul we shall keep unmarred the fair thing of peace. And, O wisest of men, I would not hesitate to say also, O best of those who love and are loved—may it be ours both to see one another and to embrace one another, and through one another to exchange the same greeting in a holy kiss.

(p. ...) THAT THERE ARE THINGS DIVINE OF WHICH THERE IS DEMONSTRATION, AND THAT THIS IS DEMONSTRATION IN THE PROPER SENSE. The matters of 'dual-principle' (dyarchy) have been done away with; for it has been cut off from the discourses of the philosopher, and our discourse has borne fruit, established upon the pious proclamation of the Monarchy (of God). But the Aristotelian 'beyond demonstration' concerning divine things is not yet willing to become submissive to the argument; so let it be (examined).

Let this, then, again become for us the subject of discourse—namely, the philosopher.

There is no demonstration concerning any of the divine things—and his whole contest tends toward no end whatsoever.

For if this becomes plain, then, if nothing else, at least so as not to wish to talk idly, he will refrain from the contention; and it will be plain at once, if we learn from him that for the sake of which he stripped for this struggle, and (if) this too appears to be useless.

He says, then, in his preface and in his discourses to us: 'It is now necessary to say to what end these arguments of mine tend. I considered how one might, by a single argument, overthrow all and show to be sophisms the syllogisms made by the Latins.'

'I saw, then, that it was possible to attain this, if anyone could show these to be neither dialectical nor demonstrative; but to show that they are not dialectical was very easy for me, by merely pointing out that what they assume is equally disputed with the conclusion; whereas to show that they are not demonstrative was wholly impossible (p. ...)

) for one who had conceded that it is possible to reason demonstratively concerning divine things.

And is it possible for a syllogism to be, or even to seem, demonstrative, which has its premises disputed—and these equally with the conclusion?

What man bred up in the discourses of learning—or even one moderately versed in it—would say this?

For you showed, as you yourself say there, that all their syllogisms are sophisms; and then are you afraid lest, having been refuted as sophistical, they should be called demonstrative?

And is it at all possible for the sophistical to be demonstrative?

You have suffered the same thing, my good fellow, as if someone, when the sun and moon are below the earth, were to say that during that part of time those above the earth pass it in deep darkness, as being deprived even of the moon's light, and then were afraid lest they call this 'the steady light of day' and so convict him of lying. For a syllogism shown to be not dialectical—such that one might suppose a demonstrative one to be better than it—but as worse than the dialectical, it is among the impossibilities for anyone ever to suppose this one to be demonstrative; just as one may suppose air to be brighter on a night of full moon than day, but cannot suppose it darker.