Sermo 81
The Soul's Kinship with the Word
The soul's natural kinship with the Word is proposed and explored through the image and likeness, inviting the soul to recognize its noble origin and reform its degenerate life.
Earlier, the question was raised about the soul's kinship with the Word—and necessarily so. For what union can there be between such great majesty and such great poverty, that they should embrace each other as if on equal terms, in the manner and love of bridegrooms—that soaring height and that lowliness?1 For if we say this truly, it's a very joyful confidence; if falsely, it's a very audacious thing that must be punished. And so for that reason it was necessary to investigate the suitability between these two; and indeed much of it has now been discovered, but not all. For who, unless they were too dull, wouldn't see how closely the image and that which is made after the image look back at each other from nearby? A discourse, if you recall, assigned one of these to one and the other to the other yesterday. And the closeness pertains not only to the image but also to the likeness demonstrated in the same place—except that in what, or in which respects, the likeness itself especially consists hasn't yet been spelled out by us. Come, then, let's set our minds to this declaration, so that the more fully the soul recognizes its own origin, the more it may blush to lead a degenerate life—or rather, so that whatever it discovers in nature corrupted by sin, it may strive to reform by earnest effort, and so, guiding itself worthily by its own kind, indeed by the gift of God, it may confidently draw near to the embrace of the Word.2
Degrees of Likeness and the Steps of Ascent
The soul's likeness to God is distinguished from equality, and the stages of ascent from mere being to living to blessed life are mapped out.
Let it notice, then, from this divine nobility of likeness, that there is in itself that natural simplicity of its own substance, by which it is to that one what it is to live — though not what it is to live well or to live blessedly — so that it may be a likeness, not an equality. The next step — a nearby step, yet still a step. For it is not a matter of one and the same excellence or matching peak, to have 'to be' as what it is to live, and likewise to have 'to be' as what it is to live blessedly. So if that belongs to the Word because of his loftiness, this belongs to the soul because of its likeness — while the eminence of the Word is preserved — plainly there is a kinship of natures, plainly the soul's prerogative. And so that what is said may be put more plainly: to God alone it is 'to be' as it is 'to be blessed' — and this is the first, most pure, and simple reality. The second is like this: namely, to have 'to be' as it is 'to live' — and this belongs to the soul. From this — even from a lower step — one can rise, not only to living well but also to living blessedly: not because then 'to be' is for the one who has reached it what it is 'to be blessed,' but so that one may glory in the likeness, yet because of the disparity always have the reason for which all his bones say, 'Lord, who is like you?'✦ . Still, it's a good step for the soul — and the only one from which the ascent is made to the blessed life.
What It Means to Live: Degrees of Life
Living is distinguished from mere existing as the sermon ranks sensitive, vegetative, and elemental life below the life that truly lives.
There are living things, and they fall into two kinds: those that have perception and those that do not. Furthermore, things that have perception are preferred to things without perception, and to both alike is given the life by which one lives and perceives. Life and a living being will not stand together on the same level; much less will life, and the things that have no life. The life of the soul is indeed a living thing, but not from any source outside itself; and therefore it is not so much a living thing as life itself, if we are to speak of it properly. Hence it is that when poured into the body it gives it life, so that the body becomes, by the presence of life, not life but a living thing. From this it's clear that for the body, even a living one, to live is not the same as to be—since it can be, and yet scarcely live at all. Much less will those things that are without any share in life rise to this level. But not everything that is called life, or that is life, will at once be capable of reaching this point. There is the life of cattle, and there is also the life of trees — one thriving through perception, the other lacking it. Yet neither of these is the same thing as living: since, as many indeed hold, they existed earlier in the elements than those plant-principles appeared in limbs or these in branches; but on this view, when they stop giving life, they stop living at the same time — but not existing.3 They are loosened and dissolved together — as though they were not merely bound, but also bound together. In fact, none of these is one and simple; rather, each is made up of many parts. And for this reason it is not reduced to nothing, but bursts apart into parts, so that each may return to its own source — for example, air to air, fire to fire, and the rest in the same way. By no means, then, is existing the same thing as living for such a life — one that exists even when it does not live.
The Soul's Unique Dignity as Life Itself
The human soul is created life from life, simple from simple, immortal from immortal, and thus shares a likeness with God but not equality.
Furthermore, none of these things—for which existing isn't the same as living—will ever amount to anything or emerge for living well and happily, precisely because they couldn't even reach this lower level. Only the human soul, which is known to stand in him, was created in that dignity—life from life, simple from simple, immortal from immortal—so that it wouldn't be far from the highest rank, where, to be sure, existing is the same as living happily, in which the blessed one alone stands, and the only powerful one, King of kings and Lord of lords.✦ The soul, therefore, received in its own condition the capacity to be blessed, even if not the capacity to simply exist; thus, approaching the highest rank as much as is allowed, though not reaching it. For neither will they themselves, as we said above, ever have existing be the same as being blessed, nor will it be so when they are blessed. We confess a likeness; we refuse an equality. For example, God is life, and the soul is life; they are similar, indeed, but unequal. Furthermore, they are similar in that it is life, in that it is living by itself, and in that it is not only living but also making alive, just as he is all these things. But unequal, inasmuch as the created is from the Creator.
Natural Life, Spiritual Death, and the Word of Life
A soul living only naturally is immortal yet wretched, and only the Word of life can raise it from the death of sin.
It is unequal, because just as it wouldn't exist at all unless created by him, so it wouldn't live at all unless given life by him. I don't mean it wouldn't live by natural life, but by spiritual life. For even a natural life, which doesn't live spiritually, must of necessity live immortally. But what a life this is, in which it would be better never to have been born than not to die from it! It is rather death, and all the more grievous because it is death from sin, not from nature. In short, the death of sinners is the worst. And so a soul that lives according to the flesh is alive yet dead — for whom it would have been better never to live at all than to live in this way. From this death — a death that is, in a sense, life-giving — it will never rise again except through the Word of life; indeed through the Word who is life itself, the living and life-giving Word.✦45
True Immortality Belongs to God Alone
God alone possesses true immortality and immutability, while the soul's immortality is likeness, not equality, and its mutability reveals its distance from the divine.
In other respects, however, the soul is immortal, and in this respect it is indeed like the Word, but not equal to it. For the immortality of the Godhead surpasses everything so completely that the Apostle can say of God: 'He alone has immortality.' I understand this to mean that God alone is unchangeable by nature, who says: 'I am the Lord, and I do not change.' For true and complete immortality admits no change whatsoever, and no end — because every change is, in a sense, an imitation of death. Whatever is changed, as it passes from one state of being to another, necessarily undergoes a kind of death in what it is, so that what it is not may begin to be. But if there are as many deaths as there are changes, where is immortality? And to this vanity the whole creation is subjected — not willingly, but on account of the one who subjected it, in hope. Even so, the soul is immortal: since it is life to itself, there is nothing by which it can fall from itself, just as there is nothing by which it can fall from life. But since it's settled that the soul is changed by its own affections, let her recognize that, inasmuch as she is like God in immortality, she is lacking no small part of immortality — yielding to the one who alone possesses absolute and perfect immortality, with whom there is no change, nor any shadow of turning. Yet the dignity of the soul discovered in this present discussion is no small thing: by a kind of twofold nearness of nature, she seems to draw near to the Word — through the simplicity of her essence and the perpetuity of her life.
Freedom of Judgment: A Divine Endowment
The soul possesses a God-given free judgment that stands between good and evil, making human beings capable of merit and moral responsibility.
But one thing still comes up that I will not pass over at all: for it makes the soul no less distinguished, or perhaps even more so, and not less like the Word. This freedom of judgment is clearly something divine shining out in the soul, like a gem in gold. From this, namely, there dwells in it a power that stands between good and evil, and also between life and death, and likewise between light and darkness, along with the knowledge of judgment and the ability to choose; and if there are any other such things that seem to face each other in the same way around the mind's disposition. Yet among these things themselves, a certain censorious judge — the eye of the soul — decides and discerns, just as a judge is free in discerning, so too in choosing. Hence it is also called free judgment, because one is permitted to act in these matters according to the judgment of one's will. From this, a human being is capable of meriting. For whatever you do, good or evil — something it was free not to do — is rightly reckoned to merit. And so one is deservedly praised not only who was able to do evil and did not, but also who was able not to do good and yet did it; likewise, one is not undeserving of evil who was able not to do evil and did it, just as much as one who was able to do good and did not.
Merit, Freedom, and the Brute Creation
Where there is no freedom there is no merit, and animals lacking reason are driven by impulse and appetite without accountability.
But where there's no freedom, there's no merit either. So animals, which lack reason, merit nothing, because they lack both deliberation and freedom. They're driven by sense, swept along by impulse, carried away by appetite. They don't even have the judgment by which they might judge or govern themselves, not even the very instrument of judgment, that is, reason. That's why they aren't judged, because they don't judge. By what reason, then, could reason be demanded from them, when they never received it?
Freedom Wounded but Not Destroyed by Sin
Human beings alone among creatures are free, and even under sin the will remains voluntary, creating a bondage that is willed yet inescapable by one's own power.
Human beings alone do not suffer this force from nature, and therefore alone among living creatures they are free. And yet, with sin intervening, a person too suffers a certain force — but from the will, not from nature — so as not to be stripped of that inborn freedom even in this way. For what is voluntary is also free. And so it has come about through sin that the body, which is subject to decay, weighs down the soul — but through love, not through sheer heaviness. For the fact that the soul, which once could fall by its own power, now cannot rise by its own power — the will is the reason: weakened and weighed down by its corrupt body's tainted and vicious love, it lies there languishing and refuses to welcome an equal love of justice. In this crooked and strange way, the will itself — having been changed for the worse by sin — creates a necessity of its own: so that the necessity, since it is voluntary, cannot excuse the will; and the will, since it was enticed, cannot rule out the necessity. For this necessity is, in a certain sense, voluntary. It is a persuasive force of a sort — flattering as it presses down, and pressing down as it flatters — from which the guilty will, once it has consented to sin, can neither shake the burden off by its own power nor, for all that, excuse itself before reason in any way.
The Cry of the Enslaved Will
The soul groans under the yoke of voluntary servitude, knowing that its own will, not God, is to blame for its enslavement to sin.
Then there is that plaintive voice, as if groaning under the weight of this necessity: 'Lord, I am being violated — answer for me.' But then, knowing that no case could rightly be brought against the Lord — since his own will was more to blame — consider what the one who pursued this has brought on: What am I to say, or what will answer for me, when I myself am the one who did it? It was pressed by a yoke — but not any yoke other than that of a voluntary servitude; and considered as servitude, it was miserable, but considered as an act of the will, it was inexcusable. For it is the will that, when it was free, made itself a slave to sin by assenting to sin; and it is nonetheless the will that holds itself under sin by serving it willingly.
A Dialectic of Willing Captivity
Through a back-and-forth inquiry, the paradox is pressed: the will that is held captive still wills its captivity, so it cannot be held against its will.
"Watch what you say," someone says to me. Are you really saying that what is now clearly a matter of necessity was once a matter of choice? It's certainly true that the will handed itself over; but it doesn't hold itself captive — rather, it is held, and against its will. At least you grant this much — that it is held captive. But hold fast, carefully: the will you confess to be held captive is still a will. So are you saying the will is unwilling? Certainly a will is not held captive against its willing. For the will belongs to the one who wills, not to the one who refuses.
Made a Slave, Yet Still a Will
By committing sin the will makes itself a slave, yet because it does so willingly it remains accountable and must answer for its self-enslavement.
But if it's held willingly, the will holds itself. What then will it say, or what answer will it give when it has done this? What has it done? It has made itself a slave, which is why it's said: whoever commits sin is a slave of sin.✦ So when it sinned — and it sinned when it chose to obey sin — it made itself a slave. But it becomes free if it no longer does this. It does, however, while keeping itself in the same slavery. For the will is not held unwillingly, since it is the will. So because she has willingly made herself a handmaid — and not only made herself one, but continues to do so. It's fitting, then, that what must often be kept in mind should be asked: what will she answer to the one she herself has acted against — when she herself also acts?
The Paradox of Willing Necessity
The soul experiences a necessity in the will that is not weakness but willing compulsion, and this natural freedom must be distinguished from the spiritual freedom given by Christ.
But you say I won't make you disbelieve the necessity I suffer, the one I experience in myself, and against which I keep struggling persistently. Where, I ask, do you feel this necessity? Isn't it in the will? What you will is therefore not weakly grounded, since you will it necessarily as well. You want very much what you're unable to refuse, and not much as one resisting. Besides, where there is will, there is freedom too. What I'm saying refers to natural freedom, not spiritual freedom — the freedom by which, as the Apostle says, Christ set us free.✦ For he himself says of that same freedom: Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.✦
Wretched and Free: The Soul's Lament
The soul is at once free by nature and wretched by bondage, and its very freedom makes it guilty and its guilt makes it a servant, prompting a cry for deliverance.
So the soul is held, and set free, by a strange and twisted kind of necessity — one that is willed, and yet wickedly so: a servant, because of necessity; free, because of the will. And what is more astonishing, and more wretched still, the very fact that she is free makes her guilty, and the very fact that she is guilty makes her a servant, and so, through this, the fact that she is free is precisely what makes her a servant. Wretched human being that I am, who will free me from the deceit of this shameful slavery? Wretched, and yet free. Free, because I am human; wretched, because I am a slave. Free, because I am like God; wretched, because I am opposed to God. Guardian of humankind, why did you place me in opposition to yourself? You placed me there, and you did not hold me back. Otherwise I would have placed myself there, and so I have become a burden to myself.
The Divided Self Under the Law
Citing Romans 7, the preacher describes the inner conflict where the mind wills the good but the flesh compels the evil, leaving the soul without excuse and without escape.
It's entirely just that your enemy should be my enemy too, and that whoever resists you should resist me as well. But I, who have set myself against you, I who have made myself my own enemy, find in my members something that goes against both my mind and your law. Who will free me from my own hands?✦ For I don't do what I want—no one else is stopping me—and I do what I hate—no one else is forcing me.✦ If only this holding back and this driving forward were violent, so that they weren't voluntary—then perhaps I could be excused. Or at least, if only they were voluntary, so that they weren't violent—then surely I could be corrected. But now there's no way out for a wretch like me. My will makes me inexcusable, as I said, and my necessity makes me incorrigible. Who will rescue me from the hand of a sinner, from the hand of someone who acts against the law and is unjust?✦
No One to Blame but the Self
The soul must accuse itself, for its own will has become a law in its members opposed to the divine law, making it unjust to itself and the greatest iniquity.
Someone asks, who should I complain about? About myself. I'm that sinner, that lawless one, that unjust man. A sinner, because I've sinned; lawless, because by my own will I persist in acting against the law. For my own will is itself a law in my members, kicking against the divine law. And since the law of the Lord is the law of my mind, as it's written, 'The law of his God is in his heart,' so by this it's found that my own will is contrary to me myself, and this is the greatest iniquity.✦6 For who is not unjust to me, when I am unjust to myself? Who is worthless to himself, yet claims to be good to another?
No Good in the Flesh, Good in the Mind
Echoing the saints, the preacher confesses there is no good in his flesh, yet the law of God in his mind is good, so the mind's good must not be denied.
I confess that I'm not good, because there's no good in me. I'll comfort myself nonetheless, because this is also the voice of the saints: 'I know that there's no good in me,' he says. But he distinguishes what he says: 'In himself.' Interpreting this as referring to his own flesh, on account of the contradictory law that is in it. For he has a law in his mind as well, and that one is better. Isn't the law of God good? But if he's evil because of an evil law, how is he not good because of a good one? Or is what's in his own flesh not his own, and so evil from evil; and least of all good from what is good?
The Mind More Its Own Than the Flesh
Paul regards the law of sin in his flesh as foreign to himself, showing that what belongs to the mind is more truly one's own than what belongs to the flesh.
That's not how it is. The law of God is in his own mind, and so clearly in his mind that it is truly the mind's own law. He himself bears witness, who says: I find another law in my members, resisting the law of my mind.✦ Is what belongs to his own flesh not his own, and what belongs to his own mind is? I say, and more besides. Why shouldn't I say what the very Master himself says? For while the mind serves the law of God, but the flesh the law of sin, he clearly shows which he counts as more his own, since he regards the evil in his flesh as so foreign to himself that he says: So then it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells in me.✦ And so perhaps he purposely said another law was found in his members, because he considered it foreign, as it were, and intrusive.
Paul Good by the Good in His Mind
Paul is to be counted good on account of the good that dwells in his mind, since he serves the law of God there and only confesses sin dwelling in his flesh.
And so I still dare to go a bit further — and not rashly, I think: Paul, clearly, is no longer evil on account of the evil that dwells in his flesh, but rather good on account of the good that dwells in his mind. Isn't the one who consents to the law of God good, since that law is good? For even if he himself confesses that he serves the law of sin, he does so in the flesh, not in the mind. Although he truly serves the law of God in his mind, but the law of sin in his flesh — which of these two do you think should chiefly be credited to Paul? That's for you to consider. For I confess I'm easily persuaded that what belongs to the mind is of greater value than what belongs to the flesh — not only in my case, but also in Paul's, as was already said, who says: 'If I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me.'✦7
Conclusion: Simplicity, Immortality, Freedom
The sermon closes by commending to the hearers three things that reveal the soul's kinship with the Word: simplicity, immortality, and freedom, and ends with a doxological Amen.
But let that be enough about that freedom. In the little book I wrote on grace and free will, you can perhaps read various things discussed about image and likeness; but, I think, not contradictory ones.8 You've read those things, you've heard these: which ones you more approve, I leave to your own judgment; or if you know something better than either, in that I rejoice and will go on rejoicing. But however those things may stand, at present you hold three especially important things that have been commended to you: simplicity, immortality, and freedom. And I believe this is now clear to you: that because of the inborn and noble likeness which so remarkably shines forth in these things, the soul has no small kinship with the Word — with Jesus Christ our Lord, the bridegroom of the Church, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.
Read the original Latin
Quaesitum est ante de affinitate animae ad Verbum, atque id quidem necessarie. Quae enim conventio tantae maiestati et tantae paupertati, ut more et amore sponsorum, veluti ex aequo, sese complecti referantur sublimitas illa, et illa humilitas? Nam si vere id dicimus, valde laeta fiducia est; si falso, valde punienda audacia. Propterea ergo de convenientia horum quaerendum fuit: quae quidem iam multa inventa est, sed non omnis. Quis enim, vel nimis hebes, non videat quam se e vicino respiciant imago et quod ad imaginem est? Quorum utique unum uni, et alterum alteri sermo, si recolitis, assignavit hesternus. Nec de imagine tantum, sed etiam de similitudine demonstrata ibidem propinquitas est, nisi quod ipsa similitudo in quo vel in quibus potissimum constet necdum a nobis est declaratum. Age, iam intendamus declarationi huic, ut quo anima plenius suam agnoscet originem, eo amplius erubescat vitam habere degenerem; imo vero quod peccato vitiatum deprehenderit in natura, studeat reformare industria; ut digne suo genere, Dei quidem munere, sese regens, ad amplexus Verbi fidenter accedat.
Advertat igitur ex hac divinae ingenuitate similitudinis inesse sibi illam suae substantiae naturalem simplicitatem, qua hoc est illi esse quod vivere, etsi non quod bene, quodve beate vivere, ut sit similitudo, non aequalitas. Gradus propinquus, gradus tamen. Neque enim unius excellentiae parisve fastigii sunt, hoc habere esse quod vivere, et item habere hoc esse quod beate vivere. Ergo si Verbi est illud propter sublimitatem, hoc animae propter similitudinem, salva quidem eminentia Verbi, palam est affinitas naturarum, palam animae praerogativa. Et ut quod dicitur planius fiat, soli Deo id est esse, quod beatum esse: atque hoc primum et purissimum simplex. Secundum autem simile est huic, id videlicet habere esse quod vivere; atque hoc animae est. Ex hoc, etsi inferiori gradu, ascendi potest, non modo ad bene, sed etiam ad beate vivendum: non quia vel tunc sit hoc esse, quod beatum esse illi qui eo pervenerit; quatenus ita glorietur pro similitudine, ut tamen pro disparitate habeat semper, unde omnia ossa eius dicant: Domine, quis similis tibi? .
Bonus tamen animae gradus, ex quo, et solo, ad beatam ascenditur vitam.
Sunt namque viventia, et horum genera duo, quae sentiunt, et quae non sentiunt. Porro insensibilibus sensibilia praeferuntur, atque utrisque vita, qua vivitur et sentitur. Non stabunt pariter in gradu uno vita et vivens; multo minus vita, et quae sunt sine vita. Vita anima est vivens quidem, sed non aliunde quam se ipsa; ac per hoc non tam vivens, quam vita, ut proprie de ea loquamur. Inde est quod infusa corpori vivificat illud, ut sit corpus de vitae praesentia, non vita, sed vivens. Unde liquet, ne vivo quidem corpori id vivere esse, quod esse, cum esse et minime vivere possit. Multo minus quae vitae expertia sunt, ad hunc gradum assurgent. Sed nec omne quod vita dicitur, vel est, continuo valebit pertingere huc.
Est pecorum, est et arborum vita, sensu altera vigens, altera carens. At neutri tamen idem esse quod vivere est: cum, ut quidem multorum opinio est, ante in elementis, quam vel illa in membris, vel ista in ramis exstiterint, At secundum hoc cum desinunt vivificare, simul vivere cessant, sed non et esse. Solvuntur pariter et dissolvuntur, tanquam non alligatae tantum, sed et colligatae. Neque enim unum simplex est quaeque harum; sed ex pluribus constans. Et propterea non redigitur in nihilum, sed dissilit in partes, ut et ad suum quodque recurrat principium; verbi causa, aer ad aerem, ignis ad ignem, et reliqua in hunc modum. Nequaquam igitur tali vitae idem esse et vivere est, quae est et quando non vivit.
Porro nihil horum, quibus non hoc esse quod vivere sit, ad bene beateque vivendum quandoque proficiet vel emerget: quippe quod neque ad hunc inferiorem gradum potuit pervenire. Sola, quae in ipso stare cognoscitur anima hominis, in eo dignitatis creata est, vita a vita, simplex a simplici, immortalis ab immortali, ut non sit longe a summo gradu, ubi scilicet id esse quod beate vivere est, in quo solus stat beatus, et solus potens, Rex regum, et Dominus dominantium. Accepit itaque in sui conditione anima, etsi non esse, posse tamen esse beata; summo proinde gradui, quantum licet, appropians, non pertingens tamen. Neque enim vel ipsi, ut supra diximus, hoc erit aliquando esse quod beatam esse, nec quando beata erit. Fatemur similitudinem, aequalitatem renuimus. Verbi causa, vita Deus, vita et anima est; similis quidem, sed dispar. Porro similis, quod vita, quod se ipsa vivens, quod non tantum vivens, sed et vivificans, sicut et ille haec omnia est. Dispar vero, quantum a creante creata.
Dispar, quod, ut nisi creata ab illo non esset, sic nisi ab ipso vivificata non viveret. Non viveret dico, sed spirituali vita, non naturali. Nam naturali quidem, etiam quae non spiritualiter vivit, immortaliter vivat necesse est. At qualis vita, in qua satius foret non nasci, quam non ab ea mori! Mors potius est: et ideo gravior, quia peccati, non naturae Denique mors peccatorum pessima. Ita ergo quae secundum carnem vivit anima, vivens mortua est; quippe cui bonum erat omnino non vivere, quam sic vivere. A qua nimirum vitali quadam morte minime unquam resurget, nisi per verbum vitae, imo per Verbum vitam, viventem utique et vivificantem.
Alias autem immortalis est anima, et in hoc nihilominus Verbo similis quidem, sed non aequalis. Nam in tantum superexcellit immortalitas Deitatis, ut Apostolus dicat de Deo: Qui solus habet immortalitatem. Quod ego reor pro eo dictum, quod solus sit natura incommutabilis Deus, qui ait: Ego Dominus, et non mutor. Vera namque et integra immortalitas tam non recipit mutationem, quam nec finem, quod omnis mutatio quaedam mortis imitatio sit. Omne etenim quod mutatur, dum de uno ad aliud transit esse, quodam modo necesse est moriatur quod est, ut esse incipiat quod non est. Quod si tot mortes quot mutationes, ubi immortalitas? Et huic vanitati subiecta est ipsa creatura non volens, sed propter eum qui subiecit eam in spe. Attamen immortalis anima est; quoniam cum ipsa sibi vita sit; sicut non est quo cadat a se, sic non est quo cadat a vita.
Verum cum constet suis affectibus mutari eam; agnoscat ita se Deo in immortalitate similem, ut sciat sibi deesse non modicam immortalitatis partem, soli cedens absolutam perfectamque immortalitatem, apud quem non est transmutatio, nec vicissitudinis obumbratio. Non mediocris tamen animae dignitas praesenti disputatione comperta est, quae gemina quadam vicinitate naturae Verbo appropiare videtur, simplicitate essentiae, et perpetuitate vitae.
Sed enim adhuc unum occurrit, quod minime praeteribo: nec enim minus insignem similemve minus Verbo animam facit, et forte etiam plus. Arbitrii libertas haec est, plane divinum quiddam praefulgens in anima, tanquam gemma in auro. Ex hac nempe inest illi inter bonum quidem et malum, nec non inter vitam et mortem, sed et nihilominus inter lucem et tenebras, et cognitio iudicii, et optio eligendi; et si qua sunt alia, quae similiter circa animi habitum sese e regione respicere videantur. Nihilominus inter ipsa censorius quidam arbiter (is animae oculus) diiudicat et discernit, sicut arbiter in discernendo, ita in eligendo liber. Unde et liberum nominatur arbitrium, quod liceat versari in his pro arbitrio voluntatis. Inde homo ad promerendum potis. Omne etenim quod feceris bonum malumve, quod quidem non facere liberum fuit, merito ad meritum reputatur. Et, ut merito laudatur, non is tantum qui potuit facere mala, et non fecit, sed et qui potuit non facere bona, et fecit; ita malo non caret merito tam is qui potuit non facere mala, et fecit, quam is qui potuit facere bona, et non fecit.
Ubi autem non est libertas, nec meritum. Propterea quae sunt carentia ratione animalia, nihil merentur; quia sicut deliberatione, ita et libertate carent. Sensu aguntur, feruntur impetu, rapiuntur appetitu. Neque enim iudicium habent, quo se diiudicent sive regant, sed ne instrumentum quidem iudicii, id est rationem. Inde est quod non iudicantur, quia non iudicant. Quanam quippe ratione ab his exigatur ratio, quam non acceperunt?
Hanc vim a natura solus homo non patitur, et ideo solus inter animantia liber. Et tamen interveniente peccato patitur quamdam vim et ipse, sed a voluntate, non a natura, ut ne sic quidem ingenita libertate privetur. Quod enim voluntarium, et liberum. Et quidem peccato factum est ut corpus quod corrumpitur, aggravet animam; sed amore, non mole. Nam quod surgere anima per se iam non potest quae per se cadere potuit, voluntas in causa est, quae corrupti corporis vitiato ac vitioso amore languescens et iacens, amorem pariter iustitiae non admittit. Ita nescio quo pravo et miro modo ipsa sibi voluntas, peccato quidem in deterius mutata, necessitatem facit: ut nec necessitas, cum voluntaria sit, excusare valeat voluntatem; nec voluntas cum sit illecta, excludere necessitatem. Est enim necessitas haec quodammodo voluntaria. Est favorabilis vis quaedam, premendo blandiens, et blandiendo premens: unde sese rea voluntas, ubi semel peccato consenserit, nec excutere iam per se, nec excusare tamen ullatenus de ratione queat.
Inde querula illa vox veluti gementis sub onere necessitatis huius: Domine, inquit, vim patior, responde pro me. Sed rursus sciens quod non iuste causaretur adversus Dominum, cum voluntas sua ipsius potius in causa foret, attende quid secutus intulerit: Quid dicam, aut quid respondebit mihi, cum ipse fecerim? Premebatur iugo, non alio tamen, quam voluntariae cuiusdam servitutis; et erat pro servitute quidem miserabilis, sed pro voluntate inexcusabilis. Voluntas enim est, quae se, cum esset libera, servam fecit peccati, peccato assentiendo: voluntas nihilominus est, quae se sub peccato tenet, voluntarie serviendo.
Vide quid dicas, ait aliquis mihi. Tune voluntarium dicis, quod iam necessarium constat esse? Verum quidem est, quod voluntas se ipsam addixerit: sed non ipsa se retinet; magis retinetur et nolens. Bene hoc saltem das, quia retinetur. Sed vigilanter retine voluntatem esse, quam retineri fateris. Itaque voluntatem nolentem dicis? Non utique voluntas retinetur non volens. Voluntas enim volenti est, non nolentis.
Quod si volens retinetur, ipsa se retinet. Quid ergo dicet, aut quid respondebit ei, cum ipsa fecerit? Quid fecit? Servam se fecit: unde dicitur: Qui facit peccatum servus est peccati. Propterea, cum peccavit (peccavit autem cum peccato obedire decrevit), servam se fecit. Sed fit libera, si non adhuc facit. Facit autem, in eadem servitute se retinens. Neque enim non volens voluntas tenetur: voluntas enim est.
Ergo quia volens, servam se ipsam non modo fecit, sed et facit. Merito proinde quod saepe memorandum est, quid respondebit illi, cum ipsa fecerit, ipsa et faciat.
Sed non me, inquis, decredere facies necessitatem quam patior, quam in memetipso experior, contra quam et assidue luctor. Ubinam, quaeso, hanc necessitatem sentis? Nonne in voluntate? Non ergo parum firmiter vis, quod et necessario vis. Multum vis quod nolle nequeas, nec multum obluctans. Porro ubi voluntas, et libertas. Quod tamen dico de naturali, non de spirituali, qua libertate, ut dicit Apostolus, Christus nos liberavit. Nam de illa idem ipse dicit: Ubi spiritus Domini, ibi libertas.
Ita anima miro quodam et malo modo sub hac voluntaria quadam ac male libera necessitate, et ancilla tenetur, et libera: ancilla, propter necessitatem; libera, propter voluntatem: et quod magis mirum, magisque miserum est, eo rea quo libera, eoque ancilla quo rea, ac per hoc eo ancilla quo libera. Miser ego homo, quis me liberabit a calumnia huius pudendae servitutis? Miser, sed liber. Liber, quia homo; miser, quia servus. Liber, quia similis Deo; miser, quia contrarius Deo. O custos hominum, quare posuisti me contrarium tibi? Posuisti enim, cum non prohibuisti. Alioquin ipse me posui, et factus sum mihimetipsi gravis.
Iustissime quidem, ut hostis tuus hostis sit et meus; et qui tibi repugnat, repugnet et mihi. Ego vero qui tibi, ego qui mihimet contrarius factus sum, atque in membris meis invenio quod contradicat, et menti meae, et legi tuae; quis me liberabit de manibus meis? Non enim quod volo, hoc ago, sed me, non alio prohibente, et quod odi, illud facio, sed me, non alio compellente. Atque utinam prohibitio haec, et haec compulsio, ita esset violenta, ut non esset voluntaria; forsitan enim sic possem excusari: aut certe ita esset voluntaria, ut non violenta; profecto enim sic possem corrigi. Nunc vero nusquam exitus misero patet, quem et voluntas, ut dixi, inexcusabilem, et incorrigibilem necessitas facit. Quis me eripiet de manu peccatoris, et de manu contra legem agentis et iniqui?
Quaerit quis, de quo querar? De me. Ego ille peccator, ille exlex, ille iniquus. Peccator, quia peccavi; exlex, quia voluntate persisto agere contra legem. Nam mea voluntas ipsa est lex in membris meis, legi divinae recalcitrans. Et quoniam lex Domini lex mentis meae, sicut scriptum est: Lex Dei eius in corde ipsius; per hoc et mihi ipsi mea ipsius voluntas contraria invenitur, quae est iniquitas maxima. Cui enim non iniquus, qui mihi sum? Qui sibi nequam, ait, cui bonus?
Fateor, non sum bonus, quia non est in me bonum. Consolabor me tamen, quia et sanctorum vox ista est: Scio quia non est in me bonum, inquit. Discernit tamen quod dicit: In se. In carne sua interpretans, propter contradictoriam legem, quae in ea est. Nam habet legem et in mente, eaque melior. Annon lex Dei bona? Quod si malus propter legem malam, quomodo non propter bonam bonus? An mala sua est quae est in carne sua, et ideo de mala malus; et minime bonus de bona?
Non est ita. Lex Dei eius in mente ipsius, atque ita in mente, ut sit et mentis. Testis est ipse qui ait: Invenio aliam legem in membris meis, repugnantem legi mentis meae. Nunquid suum quod carnis suae est, et non suum quod mentis suae est? Ego dico et plus. Quidni dicam, quod idem ipse magister dicit? Nam mente quidem serviens legi Dei, carne autem legi peccati; quid magis suum fateatur evidenter ostendit, cum malum quod in carne est, ita a se alienum censet, ut dicat: Itaque iam non ego operor illud, sed quod habitat in me peccatum. Et ideo fortassis signanter aliam dixerit legem inventam in membris suis, quod alienam hanc, et quasi adventitiam reputaret.
Unde et adhuc ego aliquid audeo amplius, haud temere quidem: Paulum videlicet non iam malum, propter malum quod in carne habet; magis autem bonum, propter bonum quod in mente habet. Annon bonus, qui consentit legi Dei, quoniam bona est? Nam, etsi se itidem fateatur servire legi peccati, carne hoc facit, non mente. Cum autem mente quidem serviat legi Dei, carne autem legi peccati; quidnam potissimum horum Paulo imputandum putes, tu videris. Nam mihi fateor facile persuasum, quod mentis quam quod carnis est, pluris esse, non solum mihi, sed et ipsi Paulo, ut iam dictum est, qui ait: Si autem quod nolo, illud facio, iam non ego operor illud, sed quod habitat in me peccatum.
Sed de libertate ista sufficiant. In libello, quem de Gratia et Libero Arbitrio scripsi, diversa fortassis de imagine et similitudine disputata leguntur; sed, ut arbitror, non adversa. Legistis illa, ista audistis: quaenam magis probetis, vestro iudicio derelinquo; vel si quid melius utrisque sapitis, in hoc gaudeo et gaudebo. At quoquo modo illa se habeant, tria quaedam impraesentiarum praecipua commendata tenetis; simplicitatem, immortalitatem, libertatem. Et hoc vobis liquido apparere iam arbitror, animam pro ingenita atque ingenua similitudine, quae in his tam eximie claret, non parvam cum Verbo habere affinitatem, sponso Ecclesiae Iesu Christo Domino nostro, qui est super omnia Deus benedictus in saecula. Amen.
Scripture echoes
- ↩Exod.15.11 — Who is like you among the gods, O LORD? Who is like you, majestic in holiness, awesome in praises, doing wonders?
- ↩1Tim.6.15;Rev.17.14 — which he will display in his own time—the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of those who reign and Lord of those who rule. Rev.17.14 — These will wage war against the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those with him are called, chosen, and faithful.
- ↩John.1.4 — In him was life, and the life was the light of men.
- ↩John.8.34 — Jesus answered them, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin.'
- ↩Gal.5.1 — For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not again be subject to a yoke of slavery.
- ↩2Cor.3.17 — Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.
- ↩Rom.7.23-Rom.7.24 — But I see another law in my members, waging war against the law of my mind, and making me captive to the law of sin which is in my members. Rom.7.24 — Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?
- ↩Rom.7.15 — For I do not understand what I do. For I do not do what I want, but what I hate, that I do.
- ↩Ps.71.4 — My God, rescue me from the hand of the wicked, from the grasp of the unjust and ruthless.
- ↩Ps.37.31 — The law of his God is in his heart; his steps do not slip.
- ↩Rom.7.23 — But I see another law in my members, waging war against the law of my mind, and making me captive to the law of sin which is in my members.
- ↩Rom.7.17 — So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me.
- ↩Rom.7.20 — But if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but the sin that dwells in me.
Notes
- 1 ↩The rhetorical question underscores the paradox of the Incarnation: the soul's kinship with the Word is not a pairing of equals but a union across an infinite distance, framed through the spousal imagery of bridegrooms.
- 2 ↩The sentence is a purpose chain with three ut clauses. The first two (ut...eo...erubescat; ut...studeat reformare) express purpose; the third (ut...accedat) is the culminating purpose. 'Suo genere' is rendered 'by its own kind' to capture the idea of the soul's natural lineage; 'Dei quidem munere' is rendered 'indeed by the gift of God' to preserve the quidem concession.
- 3 ↩The sentence is syntactically dense. The neuter plural subject (neutri) refers back to the two kinds of life; the two 'At' markers introduce parallel clauses, and the parenthetical 'ut quidem multorum opinio est' attributes the elemental-precedence view to 'many' authorities. The contrast is between vivificare/vivere (giving life/living) and esse (existing).
- 4 ↩Oxymoron: 'life-giving death' — the natural life that sustains the body but cannot save the soul. Rendered to preserve the paradox.
- 5 ↩Christological reference to the Word who is life (cf. John 1:4); capitalized accordingly.
- 6 ↩The embedded quotation 'Lex Dei eius in corde ipsius' echoes the language of Psalm 37:31 (Vulgate 36:31): 'Lex Dei eius in corde ipsius.' Final resolution of the quotation status belongs to a later stage.
- 7 ↩Quoted clause closely parallels Romans 7:20; final source resolution deferred to tx-08 Moses check.
- 8 ↩The ut clause is ambiguous between 'as I think' (complementizer) and 'so that' (purpose/result); rendered here as the continuative/comparative 'but, I think' following arbitror.
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