書信集 第 1 章 第 7/17 段

Perhaps, like David, you too will cry out, saying: 'Your wisdom is made wonderful, and your knowledge is beyond me, O my God!'

And first tell us how we may be saved, and then tell us also how you yourself have been saved, so that you may not appear to teach us merely in word, but also make us more eager by your deed.

— of the new people, the rational sheep.

Act and speak, building upon the rock — or rather, be built yourself upon the rock.

Let him be your shepherd, let him be your master-builder, let him also be the foundation of your life.

What need is there of a roof before there are foundations?

Building first, and then the roof; practice with knowledge, and thus contemplation.

This is not contained in an old wineskin.

If you are willing, come, do not fall away from the path, but teach us concerning the depth of the judgments that concern us — how it is that some prosper, though perhaps wicked and not knowing God, while others suffer misfortune, though knowing God and known by God alone; how some are poor, though perhaps giving thanks, while others, though poor, bear it with thanksgiving; while others become rich in an evil way, being ungrateful, and yet others, seizing what is not theirs and committing injustice, suppose that by these very acts they are serving God — and many other things, which you see happening every day, that mortals do and suffer again, and God bears with it, he the Creator of all.

Might anyone be reckoned unjust toward the lawless, or toward those who, like me, are fainthearted?

Speak, teach me concerning the divine judgment, concerning that hour and that day, in which we shall all stand naked before the judgment-seat of my God and Savior, and for the deeds and words done here, and the reasonings and thoughts as well, we shall receive the wages that are our due; tell me, who there shall have confidence, and who again shall be put to shame?

You have countless things to say concerning these matters; but after this, consider also the creation — for in it you will find yet another abyss!

— which came into being by the command that governs us all!

But coming to this point, speak concerning death; discourse at length on things necessary and useful alike to friends and kinsmen, and likewise to the rich and to the renowned.

And after all these things, for you who expound them until your end, it will be enough for you to speak of such many necessary matters — and these things will profit you after death.

Come, and withdraw yourself from things without; gather your mind together, take heed of yourself — or rather, philosophize upon your own affairs and upon yourself; and whatever you see, may you find in each visible thing a teacher, depicting for you a passion, whether of virtue or of vice, so that from the greatness and beauty of created things you may fully learn the incomprehensible wisdom of God, and the intelligible warfare which the Maker of all things prefigured beforehand — and that, like the serpent, you may by all means acquire prudence, but vomit forth the venom of vice!

And like a horse, may you run on the righteous way, but by no means neigh after the female!

Become a cat, watching for the intelligible mouse — not at all seizing what belongs to your neighbor, nor stealing the portions of your brothers; but, like a fly with mice, drive out from your house all the adversaries!

And you shall become a huntress of the intelligible wild beasts!

Imitate the hare, if you cannot imitate the hound; and acquire Christ the Rock as your refuge, and hide where there is no fear; or, like a deer, climb up into the mountains, and flee the hands of the hunters; or fly, like a fine sparrow, and pass over all the snares!

Consider holy love as your wings, without which you will never cross over; imitate the colt that bore the Creator, and become also an ox, drawing the divine plow and cutting the sweet furrow of the word.

The fox is evil, living by hypocrisy, being one thing and showing itself as another; for by feigning it dies, that it may seize something. The bear is terrible; for if she is struck somewhere by a sword, she does not cease scraping at her wound, until she dies from it. The pig is evil, eating without ever being satisfied. The asp is evil; for it stops up its ears. Evils are evil — which, if you wish to search out, and if you, dear soul, are eager to escape them, you will indeed find true wisdom.

You will say: I know that he came to me also, and he is wholly with you, just as before.

How then, having been separated from you, did he come to me — and yet remains wholly in you, not having been separated from you?

It is the indivisible nature of the Word that seems to be divided. For he who is shut within a house, yet has his mind roaming outside, was not left without mind in the house, but is, together with his mind, also wholly outside.

What then will you call this separation?

Will you say it is a real thing, or will you call it a mere conception?

If a conception, how is he wholly outside? But if some real thing, how is he within the house?

For the Word, having been sent from the Father, descended and dwelt wholly in the womb of the Virgin; and he was wholly in the Father, and wholly in the womb, and wholly in the universe, being uncontainable; not contracted, not diminished in any way, he entered wholly, and, remaining unchanged, took the form of a servant, and, being born, became man in every respect, having passed wholly through the womb and come to be in the world, and was wholly taken up again — from whence he had never been separated.

Would you then dare to say that these things happened by mere conception, or as a mere fact — things ineffable to all angels and archangels, and to every created nature?

For indeed it is truly conceived by the mind, yet it is not at all expressible, nor is it ever perfectly comprehended by the mind.

How then is he God and man, man and again God, and is the Son of the Father, wholly inseparable from him, and yet came to be of the Virgin and came forth into the world, and remained, as has been said, uncontainable to all?

You will certainly now fall silent; for even if you should wish to speak, your mind will yield no word, and your talkative tongue will remain idle.

But if you should wish to call the divine nature a 'thing,' you must then also say of what sort it is — for I myself do not know.

in one Godhead, sovereignty, and power, amen.

Thanksgiving together with theology; and concerning the things by which the divine grace of the Spirit has been named through its energies.

What is the new mystery, Master of all, which you have shown to me, the prodigal and the fornicator?

For it appears to me as a star rising from afar, and again it becomes like a great sun, having no measure or weight or bound to its greatness; and it becomes a small radiance, and again is seen as a flame in the midst of my heart and within my inward parts, revolving continually and setting ablaze all that is within my inmost being, and making these things light, and speaking thus, and kindly teaching one who is utterly perplexed and seeking to learn.

I am the sweet star which you have once heard shall rise out of Jacob — doubt it not — and I appear to you as a sun rising from afar, who am, for all the righteous, an unapproachable light in the life to come and in eternal life.

I am also shown as radiance, and I am beheld by you as light, burning your heart's passions without consuming them, and by the dewy freshness of my sweetness and my divine grace washing away your filth, and utterly quenching the coals of the body — the coals of the pleasures of sin — and accomplishing all things through my love for mankind, which things I have also wrought of old in all the saints.

Have mercy on one who grieves; have compassion on one who is afflicted. Be not angry with him who wishes to speak with you yet again.

How, being uncontainable in every way, are you a star out of Jacob, and how do you continue to be so to all, even until now?

And how also are you shown rising like the sun, you who are nowhere and everywhere, and above all creation, and who are proclaimed invisible to all?

and how do you set matter ablaze, being immaterial in essence?

How do you bedew and wash away the filth of my body, being wholly unapproachable fire, unbearable even to angels?

How do you entwine yourself with the corruptible substance of my body, and mingle, unmingled, with a human soul?

How, through it, becoming present in the whole body without confusion, do you, the untouchable one, deify me wholly?

I said also: do not send me away sullen and afflicted. O boldness! O madness! O words of folly!

How is it that you do not shudder, to ask these things so abruptly?

And how do you not realize that, in asking what you already know, you dare to speak with God as one putting him to the test, and pretend to ask me the things you know as though you did not know them, wishing to write down for all, as a display, your own knowledge?

But nevertheless, being loving toward mankind, I bear with you, and again I instruct you, telling you these things thus: I am by nature ineffable, uncontainable, in need of nothing, unapproachable, invisible to all, untouchable, impalpable, unchangeable in essence; alone amid the whole universe, and alone with all who know me in the darkness of this life; but outside the whole world, outside things seen, outside sensible light, both sun and darkness, and outside the place of punishments and dread condemnation, into which proud servants have fallen, having wickedly stiffened their necks against me, their Master.

I am immovable — for where indeed am I not, that I should, by moving, take possession of some place?

I am also ever-moving, without circumscription — for where indeed will you go to seek me, that you might find me there?

Heaven was brought forth by my word as though it were nothing; sun, stars, and earth have become for me but a small, incidental matter, and likewise all the rest that you see.

— where the serpents that ever bite your heels are, where lamentation is, and woe, and unceasing mourning, where every constriction is, and anxiety and grief, where death together with corruption holds you all fast — how is it that you are unconcerned, how is it that you are negligent, tell me?

Why do you not take thought for the evils which you did in the world, but make repentance alone your great concern, and are eager to show it to be genuine, and inquire about it with much entreaty, and search out precisely how you might rightly accomplish it, so that through it you might, by my love for mankind, obtain great remission of your transgressions?

But abandoning this, you seek the things above nature, you search into the things in the heavens — or rather, not even these, but you search into the nature of me, who, as has been said, brought forth heaven and all things as though they were nothing; and you wish to learn the things concerning me, which no other knows. O the wonder! O the presumption of man!

For even if I have rebuked you, yet I will praise you again, because you too are my work and my creation.

How, though you were fashioned from earth, from clay, from dust, and though held fast in it and passing your life together with it, do you reckon all things as nothing, but regard them as a shadow, and run past all of them, seeking me alone?

But just as trees standing along the road, and as mere wood, so you reckon all the glorious things of the world, and you run past them as nothing on the road of life, neither turning about with the eye of the mind, nor letting the eyes of the soul look upon these things; but you picture me in your imagination, and remember me alone, and love me as none of those who dwell with you do.

And he immediately desired to serve me alone, and for this reason parents and brothers and house, and land, together with kinsfolk and neighbors and friends, were thus set at naught; and thus he came to me, as one who had never even beheld any of these, nor had ever known a man on earth in the world; but just as one who has entered some foreign land and a city where all speak a foreign tongue and are barbarians, so, among his familiar acquaintances and friends, his own kin and rulers and the rich of the world, he continued to live and to be disposed, even while finding himself in their midst.

But these things, though called bare and trivial by the unperceiving, are great and lofty to me, who witness them.

Who among the great powers and thrones on earth, or among those who claim to rule and reign through me, or among those who represent my divine apostles — who of these has ever conceived this, or been able to keep it: that, in the time of keeping my commandment and law, he should regard all as one — kinsfolk and strangers, rich and poor alike, the renowned and the unrenowned, and indeed the powerful together with the more lowly?

Who is he that has judged free from passion, seeing all these as level?

If I should find a soul that has kept these things in the world, especially in this present generation and day, I will glorify it equally with my apostles and prophets, and it shall sit together with me at my coming; for as it judged justly on earth, so also then it shall bear away the glory of a judge of the living and the dead.

It is good to seek these things out, and, together with them, to keep the rest as well, as far as lies in your power, and to guard them precisely; but not to seek out my nature, son of man, nor my energies — those of the Holy Spirit — how it is shown as the sun, how it is seen as a star, appearing somewhere from afar and passing beyond the mountains, and then, by hiding itself from your eyes, causing you inconsolable affliction and grief, and, just when you think it is no longer to be seen by you, being found within, in your very heart, and unexpectedly bestowing on you astonishment and joy; nor should you marvel at, or search out why it is shown to you as a flame, why it is seen as radiance and fire — for this is not good for you!

I am wholly simple, uncompounded, indivisible in nature, altogether unsearchable, approachable inapproachably; for I am indeed truly seen, I am shown forth in love for mankind, being transformed according to what each man is able to receive; it is not I who undergo this, but those who see are deemed worthy to behold me thus.

For otherwise they are not able, nor can they receive more; and for this reason the same people at one time behold me as the sun, when they have their mind purified, and at another time as a star, when they find themselves under the gloom, so to speak, and the night of this body.

But it is the fervor of love that makes me fire and radiance.

For when the coal of friendship is kindled in you, then I too, seeing the readiness of your heart, am found united with it, giving light and, as it were, being shown forth — I who created fire by my word.

For the virtues of the soul lie beneath as matter, in which the divine light of the Spirit, taking hold, is also named according to that underlying matter; for it possesses no proper name of its own among men.

When, therefore, a man feels compunction and weeps, then this light is also called water; for indeed it purifies, and, uniting itself with the tears, washes away all filth.

But when, through its cooperation, mourning quenches the wrath of the heart, it has been named gentleness; and again, being kindled against impiety, this same light becomes, through it, what is called zeal; and again it is called peace and joy and goodness, because it bestows both of these upon the one who mourns, and makes joy well up in the heart as from a spring.

From it, all compassion and mercy is poured out, flowing forth from the soul to all, but especially to those who wish to repent and be saved; for indeed it has mercy on all, but with these it also runs together with them, cooperates, joins in struggle, and suffers together with them in everything, being united to their soul according to their free choice, and, discerning by the mind the beauty of their repentance, it possesses toward them a love that is more genuine.

Knowing these things, no longer entreat me at all to speak of them, or to expound them to you in minute detail!

For by nature they are unutterable, wholly inexpressible, ineffable to men, unknown even to angels, and altogether incomprehensible to every other created substance.

But know only your own affairs, or rather yourself all the more, and then you will know that I am altogether incomprehensible, present only with those, loving only those, who love me and who ever fervently remember my commandments, and in no way prefer to them anything that passes away; with these, in communion, I will remain, now and unto the ages, amen.

An exact theological discourse concerning the incomprehensible and uncircumscribed Godhead; and that the divine nature, being uncircumscribed, is neither within nor outside the universe, but is both within and outside, as the cause of all things; and that the Divine is graspable by man only in the mind, ungraspably, as the sun's rays are grasped by the eyes.

O Trinity, Creatress of all things, O my God, you alone are uncircumscribed in nature, incomprehensible in glory, inexplicable in works, unchangeable in essence.

O Life, O God of all things, O you who are above all good things, O beginning of the beginningless Word, my God beyond all origin, who never came into being at all, but ever were, having no beginning.

How shall I find you, who carry you wholly within me?

As ungraspable, I am not within; as graspable, I am outside; but being uncircumscribed, I am neither within nor without.

For within what is the Creator, and outside what, tell me, is he?

For how shall the Creator of creatures not be outside all things?

I, who exist before all things and, being full, fill the whole, how shall I not also be — having created — in all my creatures?

For everywhere I existed in the all, as one supremely full, and having created all things, I fill them.

Having created, I did not change place, nor was I united to the things created; but being uncircumscribed, where then will you say that I am?

I do not speak to you in a bodily sense; conceive of me intellectually.

Seeking me spiritually, you will find me uncircumscribed, and in this respect nowhere at all — neither within nor without — even though I am everywhere and in all things, impassibly and without confusion; in this respect I am outside all things, because I existed before all things.

But let us set aside this whole creation which you see, since it does not partake of reason, and rightly has no affinity with reason, being deprived of all mind —

— but rather that which stands in relation to the reason of wisdom, so that, as mind to wisdom and as word to the Word, possessing kinship and affinity, the creature might the more fittingly have communion with the Creator, existing according to the Creator's image and likeness.

I have indeed spoken to you of the rational man among the irrational creatures, as twofold, composed of both the perceptible and the intelligible.

This one alone, in the midst of creatures, knows God; to him alone God is, according to the mind, comprehensible incomprehensibly, is seen invisibly, and is held ungraspably.

How comprehensibly, and how incomprehensibly, and how, being mixed, unmixedly?

How shall I express to you the inexpressible? How shall I tell you the unspeakable?

Nevertheless, attend, and I will speak: the sun shines its rays; I speak to you of this sensible sun, for you have not yet seen the other; its rays, at any rate, you see, and they are graspable by your eyes.

The light of your eyes was joined to your eyes; now tell me, since I ask: how then is your light joined to the rays — is it in an unmixed mixture, or are they confused with one another?

I know: you will say they are unmixed, and yet you will confess they are mixed, and you will tell me the light is graspable, when the eyes are open and well purified.

Yet the very same light, if you close your eyes, immediately becomes ungraspable; it does not remain with the blind, but abides with those who see.

But when it sets, it leaves even these as blind — for at night the eyes of men do not see; the soul, then, peering out through them, sees light, but when the light is not present, it is entirely as though in darkness; and when it rises, then you first see the light itself, and in the light all things as well; yet having the light, you do not have it — for you have it in that you see it, but you are not able to hold it fast or take it in your hands.

You have it wholly, though you do not think so at all; you spread out your palms, the sun shines upon them, and you suppose you are holding it — this I say, that you have it.

Suddenly you clench them again, and it proves ungraspable; thus again you have nothing.

Simple things are held simply, and are not clenched by force; for even though by nature this light — seen when the sun is seen — is conceived as a body, yet it is also indivisible.

How then will you bring this into your house, tell me?

How will you be able to hold it fast, how will you grasp the ungraspable, how will you possess it wholly — partially, or entirely?

How will you take a portion of it and hide it in your bosom?

If then you are utterly unable to declare or investigate the nature of this sun — which the Creator, by word and command, brought in as a lamp to shine for all in the world — how can it even be a body? For it is certainly not incorporeal.

How is it grasped ungraspably? How does it mingle unmingled? How is it beheld in its rays, and does it illumine you through them — though if you gaze at it directly, it rather blinds you altogether?

But you are also at a loss to tell me about the light of your own eyes — how, apart from another light, it is utterly unable to see, and yet it unites with every light, and as light beholds all things.

Yet it remains altogether impassible, being divided from the lights and likewise united, being wholly light to light; and their union is ineffable and unconfused, and their division likewise is not comprehended.

How then do you propose to investigate at all the nature of the Creator of all things? How again do you tell me you will interpret his energies? How will you tell me, how express, how set them forth in words?

For faith does not doubt; faith does not hesitate at all; yet, as I say, he is all things —

— divine nature and wisdom, and yet not merely in all things; for how shall that which is none of all existing things, yet is the cause of all things, be reckoned among them?

He is everywhere and in all things, and wholly fills all things — according to essence, according to nature, and likewise according to hypostasis.

God exists everywhere as life, granting life; for what at all has come into being that he himself did not bring in?

Consider, for me, even down to the gnat and the spider's web!

For whence is so much thread supplied to it, tell me?

Or does it not spin, but weave untiringly, day by day, wiser than fishermen, and surpassing all fowlers — stretching out its strands and binding them from afar, and finally, in the midst of these, weaving as it were a net, a snare in the air; and it, sitting still, awaits its prey, in case some winged thing, falling in from somewhere, should be caught?

He, then, who by his providence extends together with all these things, how is he not in all things? How is he not with all things?

Yes, he is in the midst of all things; yes, he is also outside all things; yes, he himself is intelligible light, illumining souls; yes, he is also unsetting — where should he hide, who fills all things?

For he is beheld by the worthy; yet he who is full is not seen, but is seen invisibly, like the ray of the sun alone; and he is grasped by them, while being ungraspable according to essence.

The ray indeed is beheld, but the sun rather blinds; and its ray is graspable to you, as we said, ungraspably.

Who, then, will clearly show me the whole of this that I see?

For I see the ray, but I do not see the sun.

But does not the ray both seem to you, and appear, to be the sun?

Having again all the rays within the house, I say again: where shall I find the source of the rays?

But the ray is itself, in turn, clearly another source within me — O strange wonder of wonders!

Above, the sun shines forth; but the ray of the sun again appears to me on earth as another sun, and shines brightly; truly the second is like the first.

Having this one, I say I have it; but beholding the other from afar, I likewise cry out: Who will give me the one I already have?

And I seek to receive the whole, even though I certainly have the whole already.

How the whole? What are you telling me?

You are jesting as though with fools; stop mocking me, do not say this. No — but I have the whole, even if I have nothing at all!

If then you stand facing these things, on the shore of the sea, you would surely rightly tell me that you behold the water indeed, and yet do not see the whole of it at all.

For how will you behold the whole — boundless and ungraspable — with your eyes, and with your hands?

No, you will say, for how could I be able?

But if one should ask you again: Do you not see these waters at all?

As much, then, as your hand holds within the waters, you have all the depths joined together with your hand — for they are not cut off from one another — and yet not all of them, but only a little.

In relation to all of them, then, how much do you have?

Thus, then, I too say to you: that having it, I have nothing, and I am poor, and I see wealth stored up for me.

When I am filled, I hunger; when I am poor, I am rich; when I drink, I also thirst, and the drink is exceedingly sweet; one taste stills the thirst of countless myriads, and I ever thirst to drink, though drinking always beyond satiety.

I desire to have the whole, and to drink, if it were possible, all the depths at once; since this is impossible, I tell you I thirst always, even though in my mouth the water is ever flowing, welling up, surging around.

But beholding the depths, I do not think I am drinking anything at all; desiring to have the whole, and yet again having the whole fully and abundantly in my hand, I am always poor, having the whole altogether joined together with the little.

The sea, then, is in the drop; and again, the depths of the deeps are joined to this drop; having, then, one drop, I have all of them joined together.

But this drop again, which I tell you I possess, is wholly indivisible, untouchable, ungraspable in every way, likewise uncircumscribed, in every respect hard to contemplate — or rather, it is God himself, whole.

If then such and of this kind is the divine drop that is mine, what at all shall I suppose myself to have?

Let me tell you this again in another way: the sun shines from on high, treading upon its rays; or rather, I grasp a ray, and run upward, ascending to draw near to the sun.

But when I have drawn well near, and think that I am about to touch it, the ray escapes my hands, and immediately I am blinded, and I fall from both — from the sun and from the rays.

From the height, then, I fall; I sit down and weep again, and seek the former ray.

Thus, then, while I am in this state, she — having split all the gloom of night — comes down to me from the heavenly height like a cord.

So then, as I ascend, rays ascend together with me; I pass beyond the heavens, and the heavens of the heavens, and again I see the sun still higher above these.

Whether it flees, I do not know; whether it stands still, I do not know. Meanwhile I walk, meanwhile I run, but still I am not able to reach it.

From my hands the rays, together with the sun, vanish, and at once I, wretched one, am cast down in a fall into Hades.

This is the work, this is the practice that belongs to spiritual men: up, down; down, up — their course is unceasing.

When he falls, then he runs; when he runs, he stands still.

Wholly bowed down below, he is found wholly above; and circling through the heavens, he is again fixed below, and the beginning of the course is its end, and the end is its beginning.

Perfection is unfinished, and the beginning again is an end. How is it an end?

As Gregory said theologically: Illumination is the end of all who long for it, and the rest of all contemplation is the divine light.

He who sees this light is, outside all things, alone with the Alone, and sees none of all things visible or intelligible; he sees the Trinity alone.

Let the things within it be passed over in silence, for they are seen but dimly, and understood only in part.

Were you astonished, then, hearing of the things within the things that are seen?

But if you were astonished at these, how shall I not seem to you a teller of myths, when I plainly disclose to you the things beyond them?

And the divine things are wholly inexpressible, and the things within them altogether so, even though speech, out of desire, somehow forces itself to speak concerning things divine and human.

But leaving aside, then, the divine things, and having said something of my own, I will show you the way by my discourse, and will bring it to rest.

Know that you are twofold, and you have twofold eyes: sensible and noetic, as there are two suns, and likewise a twofold light, sensible and intelligible; if you see these, you will be a man as you were created in the beginning.

But if you see the sensible sun, yet by no means the intelligible sun, you are altogether half-dead; and he who is half-dead is also dead, inactive in all things.

For if he who does not see with the senses is inactive, how much more is he who does not see the intelligible light of the world dead, and more than dead?

The dead man indeed has no perception; but he who has died while yet retaining perception — how great will be his pain! Rather, he will be as one dying painfully unto the ages.

But those who see the Creator — how do they not live outside all things?

Joined to things immaterial, they become insensible to things perceived by sense.

For eyes indeed do see, yet with a perception that does not perceive.

I will say it quickly: as one who sees fire is not burned, so I see without being affected.

You see the fire, of whatever kind, and you surely see the flame, yet you do not feel pain, but remain outside it; and though seeing, you are not burned — perceiving unaffected, even in perception. Or how else would you put this?

For you are not burned — unaffected — yet you see all the same with perception.

Understand that the one who sees spiritually experiences the same thing; for the mind, beholding all things, both discerns them without passion; for instance, it sees a lovely beauty, but apart from desire.

So the fire is the beauty, and the touching is desire. If you do not touch the fire, how will you feel the pain?

The mind, again, before it desires wrongly, seeing gold will regard it altogether as clay in just the same way; and glory not as glory, but as a kind of phantom appearing in the air; and it will reckon wealth as though it were sticks lying in a heap in the wilderness.