Part 3
better to die than to corrupt a child, to take away his
childlike spirit.
Anything that puts an end to childhood is corruption.
Anything that destroys a child's true nature is corruption.
We despise children not only when we mislead them to
sin, but when we in any way deprive them of their
childlikeness. Therefore Jesus calls us to hold children
in highest esteem, to love the childlike spirit, to long for
nothing else than to become like children.
Talk, October 1935
Love Divine and Love Human
In this essay from 1921, Arnold maintains that sexual love
represents only a small part of the overpowering love of God. As such, Eros is not inherently suspect, but ought to
be celebrated - as long as it remains subordinated to Agape. This bold assertion is consistent with Arnold's view
that nature itself should be redeemed for God - and that the idea of being redeemed "from" our earthly nature is
simply not Christian.
In his "Christmas Carol", Dickens portrays a rich old
merchant in whom all but the last spark of love has died.
His life has been ruined because he has given himself over
completely to earning money. Nothing but coldness comes
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
from him; he is a man without a heart. This is so tangible
that no child or beggar on the street dares ask him for
the time of day or approach him for help.
In deathly loneliness he lives a purely commercial
existence, devoid of human relationships. He has
sacrificed even the love of his youth to the idol of money.
Any pure hope he might once have had has been
consumed in his quest for recognition and success;
every noble feeling has been extinguished in his craving
for financial gain. A man of established fortune, he is a
soulless being. His life is so completely turned away
from the community of men that his death is merely the
confirmation of a long-established condition. Only if
the spirit of his youth once more awakens will his lonely
coldness and emptiness give way to God's warmth.
No one can live without love. Those without love are
aging and dying; in truth, they are already dead. Where
love sickens and degenerates, the innermost life is
poisoned. Those who allow love's ardent urge and long
ing to go unused suffer the loss of their most
precious possession.
Deep down, all of us worry about love. Every person
feels that love is his destiny. Yet there are many who, in
anxious moments, fear the love-life; to these people,
love appears as a fire so hot it must be avoided. Others,
no more fireproof, come too close to the blazing fire and
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
are burned. They allow themselves to be destroyed in a
smoldering fire. Their outward persons deteriorate
because they let their inner beings go to ruin.
For most people, love is a labyrinth in which every
step seems a blunder. They have not discovered the
secret of how to guide the living stream into the right
channel. They feel that all love must end in God, just as
all rivers flow into the ocean. They realize that much
water trickles away or evaporates instead of finding its
destination. They want nothing but the fulfillment of
their own being and God's being, and yet they lack the
vision to separate the pure, original force of love from
its weakened forms.
Our language has only one word for the many different
degrees of love - including all its sick and deviant forms.
This simplicity of expression hides the mystery of love,
and does not distinguish the relationships of body and
soul that are healthy from those that are sick. The
Greeks, on the other hand, differentiated between Eros,
which includes but is not limited to possessive desire;
and Agape, which is divine love - God's all-embracing
love that gives itself to all.
People frequently ask how these spheres of love are
related. Some are inclined to deny any essential difference
between possessive love and personal affection, while
others try to separate "holy" love from any contact with
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Eros. Still others insist that since there can be no radiance
of love without erotic energies, divine love does not
exist at all.
Only those who have distanced themselves from God
can judge in this way. Those who have been overwhelmed
by God know that all forms of love, no matter how
impure or distorted, are simply reflections of his unending
and outpouring love. They are sure that God's holy love
alone is what is essential in the love-life, and they know
that the only important question regarding love is
whether it remains in touch with this center of life, or
whether it strays from it.
Scientists have pointed out that the areas in the brain
responsible for religious experience and for the experience
of love are adjacent. Herein lies a deep symbolism that
points to the ultimate truth: "God is love; he who abides
in love abides in God, and God abides in him." Even the
most degenerate and besmirched feelings of love have
something from God hidden in them! Sadly, such feelings
consume what is of God within them, to the extent that
a person drowning in the flesh no longer has any eye for
God at all.
Those who squander the energies of their love in the
intoxication of the senses deprive the neighboring centers
of the brain of their vital power. They exhaust and ruin
their feeling for the life of God. They become dull to the
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
noblest impulses that come from the heart of God. Their
vision is clouded, and they grope in the dark. But God
sees with pure eyes. God floods us with Agape, the di
vine love that is devoid of lust or possessiveness.
Most people equate Eros with lust, which in its worst
form continually exchanges one possession for another.
But the erotic life can be ruled by Agape. How often this
actually happens is another question.
In this visible world of time and space, we are unable
to relate to one another without experiencing the
attractions and repulsions of soul and body. This is the
sphere of emotionally stimulated love, manifested in the
holding of hands, the meeting of eyes, the striding
together arm in arm. This is fellowship in word and
song, in hiking and sport; it is friendship in joy and
sorrow, in faith and in hope; this is the community of
humankind without which we could not live.
We rejoice about these powers of Eros that cannot be
mistaken for sultry eroticism. For Eros does not represent
mere lust, but communal experiences of the soul that
belong to a relatively pure atmosphere. Yet the purest
air of love is still the breath of the Spirit that goes out
from Jesus; Socrates and Plato could only sense this.
The essence and basis of all life and community is
Agape, the love that comes from God and leads to God.
Agape is the love that never ends and knows no bounds.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
It is the revelation of the transcendent in the immanent
- the revelation of the spiritual in the material, the
cosmic in the earthly.
The love between two people or between the
members of a community can be fulfilled only in God's
inexhaustible and everlasting eternity. Only in God can
love flow freely through our lives; only in him can we
radiate a love free from the possessive desire of Eros.
Only in him can the intoxication of the senses be
replaced by the ecstasy of the divine Spirit, which is so
often mistaken for asceticism. Eros has submitted to the
rulership of Agape. The all-embracing Spirit has
replaced the isolated, possessive will.
Nietzsche himself recognized that all love leads to
the eternal and the endless: "All desire seeks eternity
deep, profound eternity!" Goethe, too, recognized the
power of Eros: Faust at first exults in the physical, but
ultimately finds fulfillment in building and preserving
the community of humankind.
Our love-life determines our fate in the most serious
sense of the word. Either Eros hurls us down into the
hellish abyss of demonic self-destruction, or it lifts us
up to the pure heights of God. This depends on the inner
nature of our love-life - on the nature of the spiritual
powers with which we align ourselves. At times we may
be unaware whether we have joined with the powers of
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
darkness or with the light of God, but this will become
obvious by what effect our love has. One who goes to
the harlot becomes flesh and spirit with her. One who
enters into the union of two before God and in God
experiences rich blessings.
God compares his covenant with his people and the
unity of Christ with his church to the union of betrothal
and marriage. Christ is the single object of the devotion
of his church; he kindles in her all the powers of love and
of the Spirit. In the same way, true marriage awakens
and unfolds all the powers of manhood and womanhood.
This will - to create something beyond the self - should
awaken all our energies for the will of God.
But even if the way of marriage is barred by bitter
experience or inverted inclination, we can still find
happiness through God's love. We must not estrange
ourselves from life and love in bitterness, nor stifle the
best in ourselves by turning to possessive desires.
Rather, we must accept that higher calling in which all
powers of love are kindled and revived by the generous,
sunny love of God. Then none of love's energy will be
wasted or left unused; no power of life suppressed. But
we must rise up out of the smoke and fog so that our
vision becomes free and our hearts wide; we must open
our lungs to the pure air. Here, love comes into its own,
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
love that wants nothing for itself but is fulfilled in
lavish giving.
It is true that there is a certain asceticism in the
life-affirming love of God, an asceticism that rejects
possessive desire. But those who are liberated from the
sexual in this way belong to the happiest of people. They
are able to love more abundantly than others because
their entire time and strength are free, because Agape,
God's love, dominate their relationships to others.
Many people who struggle against degeneration and
defilement end up embracing a purely negative asceticism.
But Jesus did not want this. He had no distrust of life; he
joyfully affirmed all those forces of life that are
illumined, penetrated, and ruled by God's love. He held
marriage and its inviolability in high esteem, and
honored it by discerning its desecration in the impure
thought and the covetous look. He established brotherly
love as the sign of his church, and in his own life he
embraced all people without anxiety or compromise.
He loved the rich young man and yet challenged him to
give away all that he had, and he welcomed those who
sought redemption from their sick sensuality when he
allowed women of ill repute to kiss his feet and anoint
his hair. Even on the cross, he gave his mother a son, and
his friend a mother.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Jesus transcended the Eros-life completely. He did
not stifle emotional relationships, but rather revealed
the love of God free from fleshly desire. And God's love
is eternal and imperishable. Greed and vanity, possession
and property perish before it, as do the highest gifts of
language, knowledge, and prophecy. "He who lives in
love lives in God, and God in him." Love begets love.
He loved first who himself is love; only through him are
we able to love.
The warmth that comes from God's heart cannot be
produced in any laboratory, by any decree, or by any
organization. No friendly effort or zealous benevolence
can imitate it. Whoever has felt its unique life-power
radiating from the aged or from the wheelchair of a
cripple knows that it is independent of the physical
freshness of youth. It is life itself. It is a primary force,
an original power of the deepest source.
This Agape knows no bounds of space and time. It is
the strength of unconquerable perseverance. It is steadfast
faithfulness, and it is equal to every task. It clothes the
energy of our love in inexpressible purity, and never
injures the modesty or sensitivity of the soul. It is free
from inflated arrogance, from pretense, and from
presumption for its own advantage. It is real and genuine,
and has nothing to do with passing effervescence or
superficial enthusiasm.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Agape seeks and demands nothing for itself because
it lives completely in the object of its love. It knows
nothing of rights, and instead finds happiness in giving.
It is never harsh, never excited, never provoked to
bitterness. It sees both the essential and the potential in
everything, and does not take into account what might
still be evil. Yet it has nothing to do with injustice. It
sees through everything that still delays the holy calling
of a soul. It wards off all that threatens to obstruct a
person's destiny. And it can do this because it is one with
God, because it hopes and believes in the final fulfillment
of humanity.
No founder of a religion, no philosopher or moralist
has lived this love as Jesus did - Jesus, who entered the
life of the physical and the emotional. And the love of
Jesus is forever and is boundless, or it is nothing. It
gives and forgives everything, and includes enemies as
well as friends. It is not limited by possession or property.
It is unconditional and absolute, and is never frustrated
by outward circumstances. By it, his followers will be
known to the world. In it, we no longer look to be loved
but seek to love others.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Responsibility, Desire, and Love
Euripides said that love is the most wonderful thing,
but also the bitterest. The gravity of this truth must
touch us deeply, for lack of responsibility in love is sin.
And the wounding of soul and spirit by irresponsible
passion is more murderous than the killing of the body.
Purity is reverence for the meaning of love. The
unveiling of the body's secrets and of the mysteries of
procreation and birth before many people is a lack of
reverence, a betrayal of what is sacred and will remain
sacred only if kept for the one great experience of two.
A temple is desecrated when it becomes a public place
exposed to every profane look.
Reverence for the emotional and physical aspects of
love is necessary because the experience of love spans
starkly opposing poles. The love-life reaches from the
lowest degradation to the rarest heights; from the filthiest
breath of plague to the purest air of the spirit. We owe
to love the finest productions of art in poetry and music
and painting, as well as the entire cycle of nature and
life; we recognize in love the basis of civilization and
the family. And at the same time we see in love - or what
is called love - a consuming flame that drives countless
unhappy people into ruin and crime. Love is either
abundance of life, of generation, birth, and creation; or
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
else what is called love is sin and death - the poisoning
and killing of life.
Moralism has nothing to say to these questions. Civil
codes and social traditions cannot be authoritative in
regard to the basic forces of life. One need only think of
the bondage and slavery of marriage under the German
Civil Code, against which the women's movement
rightly fought. They wanted marriages founded on
faithfulness, not based on the duty of civil law. But what
is at stake is not the different forms of church or civil
marriage. What we must find is a morality that is
altogether higher and deeper.
Sensuality throws itself into ever new channels of
untruthfulness and perverse aberration when suppressed
by moral compulsion, convention, or legal control. The
monastic ideal is no better than the libertine ideal:
sexual repression, like sexual subjection, begets oppression
and falsity in all other areas of life. To be cold and without
desire can never be considered a virtue.
We cannot deny that legalistic morality and
neoplatonic introspection have influenced institutional
Christianity. But intellectual consideration or social
tradition can never be decisive in this fight between life
and death. It is not true that "Whoever has never
exchanged forbidden kisses, never been intoxicated
with sinful love... has forgotten how to live!" That
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
which is called sin by the creator of life is always one
thing: sacrilege against the soul.
Eros can have no exceptional position in life. The
sexual life, like everything else, is subject to the laws of
soul and spirit. Thus weakness in this area throws a
harshly illuminating light on the lives of people who
otherwise seem to show courage and strength of
conscience. Impurity never pollutes us from without,
nor can it ever be wiped away at will. It breaks out of
our innermost depths like an infected sore, poisoning
the whole bloodstream, and leaves behind indelible
traces on the character and soul.
We are more than body and soul, more than animal.
We are spirit. And intellect and reason are not the whole
of our being. What is deepest in us is our consciousness
of God, his feeling for the universe, his expectation of
future unity in all things. What distinguishes us from
animals is our longing for unity of body and spirit, our
sensing of the Spirit as the great eternal connection of
all living things in love. Even the "atheist" Voltaire
confessed that in a land of atheists, love would lead to
the worship of God.
Thus Kant was wrong in recognizing only cold duty
and sensual inclination. The living soul strives for what
is ultimate, for the divine love that is free of lust and
self-seeking - for the communal spirit, the outpouring
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
will to love, which stands as much opposed to the covetous
sensual will as to moralistic law and order. Our love life
will be healthy and happy only when it is guided by this
ultimate will.
Our love for each other must be redeemed. With
Augustine, we must pray that its "ardent fervor for the
world become an ardent fervor for the Master of this
world":
Love, but take care what it is you love. Love is the self of
the soul, the hand of the soul. When it holds one thing, it cannot hold something else. If it is to hold what one gives
it, it has to put down what it is holding. The one kind of love is turned toward community, the other is limited to the ego; the one looks to the good of all and thinks of the
spiritual fellowship, the other tries to bring even the cause of fellowship under itself. The worth of persons is not to
be assessed according to what they know, but according to what they love.
Essay, 1928
The New Morality
Until Jesus appeared, the greatest goodness anyone
could offer God was moral endeavor. People strove strenu
ously toward an ideal, scrupulously obeying commands
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
and prohibitions, repressing and stifling contrary
inclinations, and frantically attempting to deny and
mortify the flesh. They tried with human strength to
ascend the mountain where the light would not be
obscured nor the air polluted. But Jesus brought a
justice better than anything human effort could achieve,
and different in every sense from what the law and the
prophets offered.
Even so, the law and the prophets reveal God's being
and will. Jesus did not undo or obscure in any way the
clarity of their revelation; those who try to break down
these moral commandments are desecrating that which
God has laid in the conscience. In doing so, they lose
their security against the powers of lying, hatred, and
greed, which then hound them from one situation to
another until they finally fall prey to death.
Not one letter of these ethical commands and moral
prohibitions can be canceled until the essential spirit of
these laws has been revealed and has taken on flesh and
life. These commands express the holy "thou shalt" of
our inner calling, the holy "must" of our inner destiny
the only absolute that lives in the human soul. More and
more people reject one after the other of these laws to
day, declaring them null and void. They will be poorly
prepared for God's kingdom.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Before the word became flesh in Jesus, God expressed
the essence of his holiness in a form at once demanding
and forbidding. His will had to be expressed in the
letter of the law, because there was no living heart to
give it expression. The law must still take over where
greed rules, and where the truthfulness and purity of
Jesus has not yet taken root. The state with its coercive
power and the law with its statutes are a necessary
safety valve for the chaotic mass of humanity which,
like steam in a boiler, would explode if unrestrained by
the iron vessel of governmental force and the safety
valves of its laws.
But as soon as people are gripped by God's love, all of
life is different. They grow close to one another and
become organs of a mystical body, ruled by the spirit of
unity - one heart and one soul. The necessity of force
and coercion, of law and moral striving, is removed; the
true spirit, which the law expressed imperfectly, comes
to rule. The new righteousness of Jesus, the goodness of
heart and divine strength that embrace all human
existence, are not bound by restraints of legal relationships.
The scribes and Pharisees had a firm conviction, a
moral direction, and an iron will. They were better than
their reputation; they were morally upright, devout figures
who commanded respect - men who felt deeply their
responsibility for their people. But they lacked the free
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
spirit that blows from God: the gift of life that grows
and bears fruit.
The new justice is God's goodness. God's nature cannot
be imitated or created, and nothing can replace his
power. So too, the works of the first love cannot be
artificially manufactured. No intelligent reflection, no
resolution or effort, can produce the warmth of heart
that is God. Where God is alive, active love takes the
place of dead moralism.
Essay, 1920
Love Is Work
Working together with others is the best way to test
our faith, to find out whether or not we are ready to live
a life of Christian fellowship. Work is the crucial test of
faith because such a life can come into being only where
people work for love. Love demands action, and the
only really valid action is work. Christian fellowship
means fellowship in work...
Talk, May 1934
Though he could never escape his privileged upbringing or
scholarly bent, Arnold loved the working class. He abhorred the sterility and mechanization of factory work, but rejected
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
the notion that all physical work was demeaning; he asserted that farm or garden work was not only healthy
but necessary for the development of the soul. Thus he found joy and relaxation in turning compost and gardening,
and did not hesitate to hand a second pitchfork to the many visitors -including young idealists and intellectuals-
who came to him hoping for theological discussion. Irmgard Keiderling, his secretary, remembers seeing him
at the manure pile with the mayor of Quedlinburg, a town councilor from Munich, and even the local doctor from
Hanau.
Justice and love demand that everyone take part in
simple practical work with a spade, hatchet, or rake.
Everyone should be ready to spend a few hours each day
in either the garden or on the field: digging and spreading
manure, plowing, or hoeing potatoes; on the reaper, at
the circular saw, or in the locksmith's shop. Everyone
should be ready to devote a few hours every day to this
practical work; those who have done purely mental
work till now will feel its humanizing effect especially.
In this way it will be possible for each person's unique
gifts to be kindled. The light that flickers within each
heart will then exhibit its once-hidden glow in scholarly
research or in music, in expressive words, in wood, or in
stone.
Essay, 1920 * * * * *
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
In his enslavement to the principles of investment and
profit, the much-admired industrial magnate Henry
Ford has achieved the very utmost in soul-killing
enslavement to dead machinery. He has robbed work of
its soul to such an extent that 79 percent of all the
operations in his industrial plants are performed by
completely unskilled labor. Forty-three percent of his
workers require only a day's training; another 36 per
cent require only eight days. Only 21 percent of all the
workers, mechanics, and foremen he employs are al
lowed to put even a little thought and skill into his fa
mous cars. The great majority - the other 79 percent
are imprisoned in their work as soulless slaves. They are
condemned to a humdrum existence, sacrificed to
capitalist profit.
Lecture, March 1925
Community as Work
In this address from 1921, Arnold speaks of the church as a living organism: a dynamic, changing, growing, and
living body that reflects the communal order of the natu ral world. His metaphors reflect a thorough knowledge of
modern biology, and he draws heavily on this knowledge to emphasize the necessity of community not only for
plants and animals, but for women and men as well.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Community presupposes life. We know that life is
community of life, and that there is no life that is not
living community. We can see this clearly from the
community the hermit crab enjoys with the sea urchin
in the depths of the sea. These remarkable crabs have
soft and sensitive backs, and so defend themselves by
crawling into the shell of a dead snail. But even there
they are not yet safe from the polyps, those extraordinarily
dangerous and ravenous creatures of the deep sea,
which can pull them out of their shells with their
tentacles. So the hermit crab forms a settlement com
munity with the urchin, which fastens itself to the snail
shell in which the crab lives. This urchin, with its
prickly arms, clutches the whole shell so firmly that it
seems almost impossible to loosen it. Thus the urchin
protects the hermit crab from danger.
The crab also contributes to this mutual relationship.
It provides mobility for the otherwise stationary urchin,
allowing it to catch any prey that might cross the path
of the wandering crab. Each creature shares its surplus
with the other. These two creatures arise from such
irreconcilably different genera that no sexual relationship
could ever exist between them. Yet from time immemorial,
they have represented a relationship of life as community
and community as work.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
But we do not need to descend into the depths of the
sea to see other examples of the same kind of thing. In
the mountains, for example, we can find the lichens:
fungi that live in community with algae. These two very
different plants are unable to live without each other.
Only in community are they capable of life.
On a different level, colonies of ants or bees live in a
primitive and yet powerful common life, sacrificing
themselves as workers to provide for the propagation of
the greater colony by the queen. These insects show us
humans something which, in our desire for progress, we
have lost with miserable weakness: the social instinct
for the context of life, and for the common challenge.
There are many other examples from the practical life
of the animal world. But we do not need to look for
extraordinary and interesting examples in the world of
nature alone. There is also a church-community of men
and women on this earth! Humanity is of course
divided; we have not yet arrived at earth-wide community.
But the fact that this church-community exists is
reality. And if we want to understand life-community,
the mystery of this emerging, growing church-community
must dawn on us.
This church has nothing to do with any denomination
or sect. The mark of the emerging church and the
coming kingdom is the building up of quiet, hidden life
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
relationships, beginning with tiny cells which constantly
renew their relationships with each other, become
organs and members, and then again become one in a
single body.
This church cannot be brought about by authoritative
decisions, laws, or regulations. No human effort can
bring it into existence. No dictatorship can prepare for
it or create it. It is far from anything our self-will can
achieve - far from all the efforts of self-seeking,
power-hungry men or groups. It can come only as a gift
of the Creator's spirit of love.
But for this very reason, we must guard against the
false notion that God is a purely transcendental power,
removed from matter and the stuff of this earth. The
coming community of life will be a kingdom of work on
this earth. Work will be the binding factor in the cells of
human community. The only work a man can do with his
whole soul, work full of spirit and pulsing life, comes
from love. And there is no love that does not get to
work.
Love is work: practical, strenuous work of muscle and
mind, heart and soul. The kingdom of love, therefore,
must be a kingdom of work. Work, truly unselfish work,
animated by the spirit of brotherliness, will be the mark
of the future, the character of the mankind to be. Work
as spirit, work as living reality, such as we all have lost;
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
work as dedication in enthusiastic love of togetherness
- that is the fundamental character of the future. Joy in
togetherness will show as joy in work.
How infinitely remote present-day mankind is from
work like this! And since today we have only a faint
conception of the possibility of this common life, we
will be troubled again and again by pessimism, like a
shadow from the abyss.
But we do know that it is not some fantastic, unattain
able future; on the contrary, it is the quiet reality of a
church already emerging today. God is - everywhere
and always. We cannot make the kingdom of God - that
is impossible - but we can live in God's kingdom all the
time. Christ comes to us. And as certainly as this is true
for individuals, it will be fulfilled as fact for the whole
world.
We are on a rope stretched tautly between two
worlds. Let us walk out on this rope toward the land for
which we long! If we believe this kingdom is approaching,
if we are sure of this final transformation of all things,
then let us live now in accordance with the spirit of this
future.
Just this is the mystery of the emerging church,
germinating and blossoming among us in secret - that
we can live and work already now, here and everywhere,
in the community of the Spirit. Faith in God and faith in
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Christ is the power that makes this possible. Where
alienation and hostility prevailed, people will find the
relationship to one another which is community.
Address, 1921
Jesus and the Future State
Jesus repeatedly challenges us to work while it is still
day. He compares his kingdom to labor in a vineyard, to
the careful investment of entrusted money, to the good
use of one's talents. If God's kingdom is to transform
our vale of tears into a realm of joy, then God's kingdom
must be a kingdom of work. Work alone befits the
destiny of man's spirit.
Our very nature calls us to a life of productive labor.
We will find joy in life only by joining in the untainted
fellowship of work. Those ruled by the spirit of mammon
hold that man takes no pleasure in work without profit.
But that is a lie; in reality, what makes a person truly
happy is his deep vocation to work - his urge to get a job
done, to do something worthwhile, to give practical
help. True happiness is found not in making money, but
in the productive and successful use of our strength
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
though we must each find that activity which suits us
best, which corresponds to our particular gifts, interests,
and inclinations.
It is commonly argued that this is utopia - that no one
would perform menial tasks unless he were compelled.
But such reasoning arises only out of the debased morality
of our modern-day humanity. Most people today are
unable to find any joy in simple or lowly tasks. Yet at the
same time, they affirm quickly that the difference between
so-called respectable and degrading work disappears
when they are caring for a loved one. Love ignores these
distinctions; whatever we do for the beloved person
seems good to us.
That so many people value the work of the mind over
physical labor shows the unhealthy state of our society.
Man is simply not meant to concern himself continually
or exclusively with lofty ideals and spiritual matters.
Those who seek only intellectual sophistication will one
day pay a bitter penalty: a rude awakening to life's ugly
realities. True, a person's intellectual life needs to be
stimulated and deepened, if he is to become human. But
only when he knows the pleasures of physical labor will
he experience the joy of being - joy in God and joy in his
creation.
A person who feels estranged from nature is sick.
Healthy people long to exercise their bodies, to do
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
simple farm work, to be in the sun and the light; to make
friends with woods and mountains, to touch plants and
animals, to feel the soil. These longings may have
receded before the pressures of our big cities with their
hypercivilization, but in the end they will break through
all the more forcefully.
Tolstoy's Russian peasants may thus surprise us with
their primitive bliss, which seems to depend on the
possession of a sound body and the ability to work with
healthy hands. But this spirit of loving dedication
bestows on their experience of nature a profound
consciousness of fellowship, through which the simplest
physical activity becomes a source of bounteous joy.
Such joy cannot even be imagined by the depraved
hedonists of our sham civilization.
People will never stop longing for a life of simple
fellowship in nature. To take pleasure in nature, to work
with nature - as well as to deepen the intellectual life,
and to be creative in works of love - these things are the
immediate objects of our longing. It is not in keeping
with God's will that these ends should be opposed or
disparaged. In fact, we cannot even attain these things
on our own. They can be given to us only by God.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
The love of Jesus bought and won us before we were
born, when we were still his enemies. This love is like
the sun calling the greenness of life out from the deadness
of winter. The sun - God's love - awakes us from death
to life. It comes to us in Christ, and it brings forth the
fruit of deeds: activity and labor.
The unfruitful tree is under a curse. Woe to the
church where Jesus searches in vain for deeds, for
action and work, in keeping with the life he has awakened.
For he died just for this very reason: that none might
live for himself any longer, but that all who have life live
for him who died and rose for their sake. That means
surrender. It means overcoming the selfish life,
overcoming all self-interest and private property. And
for this to happen we must be moved and urged by the
love of God.
There is a legend about a proud hunter who was
snatched from the threat of imminent death by the
timely intervention of passing traveler. From that
moment on, this hunter lived for nothing other than the
daily service of his rescuer. He undertook no other work
or occupation but this. He remained constantly in
attendance upon his rescuer. So it must be with us, if we
want to live for Christ. It is not enough for followers of
Christ to devote to Jesus only those few hours which
their middle-class profession or business leaves free.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Just as Jesus dedicated his whole life to us, so we too
must leave our vocations and our businesses in order to
live for Christ and his church.
All of us are invited to the banquet of his kingdom.
The table is set; everything is prepared. But if we are
unwilling to come because of our fields, or because of
our oxen or the management of our farm or business, or
because of our marriage, or any other personal concern
- then we are under the wrath of God and have no part
in community with God. Those who surrender their
strength to the service of the church must leave forever
their own occupations and interests. Perfect love to
Jesus means devoted communal work. And we can
achieve this love only when we receive the perfect love
of his surrendered life - his death and his resurrection.
The most terrible reproach that Jesus can direct
against a church is when he says, "I have this against
you, that you have left your first love." No one should
resign himself to such a depressing development. As
long as we bear even the faintest spark of love to Jesus
within us, we cannot remain unmoved. His call must
pierce our hearts: "Think, think, from where you have
fallen."
There is no other conversion to the first love but that
of deed. Therefore Jesus goes on: "Repent, and do the
first works of love." If we do not get as far as deeds and
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
works, then we are not converted. For if our love to
Jesus is sincere, it will compel us to surrender all our
bodily strength and mental and spiritual energies.
Service in the church is the only deed that can possibly
be meant by the first work of the first love. If love has
truly taken possession of us, we will do our utmost in
the daily life of the church.
None of us can claim a personal savior just for
himself; it is the mystery of faith that all members of the
church believe in the same Christ. The church is one
body; there is one Spirit and one hope; there is one Lord,
one faith, one baptism, one God and one Father. And in
this unity the love of Christ, in its breadth, length,
depth, and height, surpasses and exceeds all understanding.
From Islolation to Community
Religion and devout feelings are useless unless they
are expressed in action and in truth, that is, in real
community. Jesus says, Love God! And his other
command is exactly the same: Love your neighbor!
We cannot love God if we do not love our neighbor.
Public address, September 1935
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Consciousness and Community
" No man is an island, entire of himself." If this is true, it
follows that man is a communal being - and that the basic sickness of modern man is isolation and egocentrism. The
remedy Arnold prescribes is a greater consciousness - an awareness of the people around us, and ultimately an
awareness of God - that leads inevitably to community.
Each human being is a coherent organism. All the
organs in the body, and the individual cells within them,
invigorate and serve each other, giving and receiving
life through the same blood stream. This is the secret of
the living body: its many diverse members and activities
are integrated into one whole. Each part of every organ
contributes to the structure of this whole. And even the
individual cells that make up these parts draw life from
ever smaller units.
Life consists in overcoming isolation through
community. This is true even in the most primitive cells
we can observe in nature. No primitive cell lives for
itself. Its life depends on reciprocal relationships with
other cells. Its very division is a sign that it does not
want to live alone, that it cannot live in isolation. It
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
would rather divide itself into two living creatures than
go on living in isolation.
At all times and in all places, individual organisms
build creative, living relationships in order to serve one
another. Life is community. There is no other life!
We may well be tempted to ask whether our stomachs
and ears, for example, are truly conscious of the unity of
the body - or whether they are not separate beings
assembled within the body simply for their own limited
ends. But to grasp all this is impossible. All we know is
that no matter how individually complex our various
organs are, the body functions only when they are
linked by a single pervading consciousness into a
unified organism.
Babies begin to sense his own unity of consciousness
very early on, though of course differently from us
adults. They feel that not only the parts of their own
person but also everything they see, everything that
happens to them, belongs to their consciousness as a
whole. Babies do not regard their bodies as the bound
ary of their existence. They see farther than we do. The
toy hanging over their carriage appears to them just as
much a part of their lives as the fingers they move or the
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
toes they put into his mouth. Subconsciously, they live
with a unified awareness of all they perceive through their
senses and experience. There is unity about everything
that enters his consciousness.
Later they begin to draw distinctions. They begin to
speak of themselves in the third person: "he" wants the
bottle, or "she" wants some other thing. Later still,
their growing realization of themselves as individuals
emerges; they now speak of themselves as "I" and
strongly emphasize the demands of this "I." In this period
of healthy egoism, they assert the "I" of self over the
greater "we" of community. But once they recognize
however slowly and reluctantly - the limitations of the
individual self, they look again for community with
people and animals. And more - the true child senses a
mystery above and beyond these: the great "Thou" of
God with his stars, angels, and spirits.
We adults lose this feeling for community quickly.
Very easily, we reach the point at which we feel ourselves
to be quite separate: entirely independent units of
consciousness that are perplexed by the very existence
of other conscious units. And in our egocentric state, we
are amazed that other people make the same sort of
exaggerated claims to self-importance as we do. We are
completely taken up with our own small selves, both in
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
our secret thoughts and, above all, in our basic attitude
to life.
The 19th-century German philosopher Max Stirner
writes about this problem quite frankly:
What is the purpose of my dealings with the world? I want
only to enjoy the world; therefore it must be mine. Thus I need power over the world. I need to make it my property;
that is, I need to take advantage of the world and the people in it. My happiness comes at the cost of their
happiness, but I will never sacrifice myself. I am an egotist and I relish it! And I am not one ego among others; I am
the only ego. I am unique.
No one should imagine that he is far removed from
this extreme egotism. We need to ask ourselves honestly if
we do not, at least in our private lives, live exactly as
Stirner describes:
I exist only for myself. Everything I do, I do to expand and protect my sphere of influence. I am "good" to people
only to take pleasure in them and to assert myself and in crease my power. And I wrong all those who might hinder,
disturb, or restrain me, who stand in the way of my enjoy ing life. I live for myself and for nothing else.
The history of philosophy, especially in the West, shows
us where such thinking leads. The philosophic egotist,
believing himself to be the only source of all his
thoughts, cannot help but tell himself: "I certainly see
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
people talking, and I see others listening and acting, but
this all has no objective existence. It exists only in my
mind. I believe in only one thing - my own existence."
There have been thinkers, for example, who have laid
an empty book on the table and asked themselves what
they could write in this book that was perfectly certain.
One of these philosophers concluded: "I think, therefore I
am. I am, since I have a consciousness."
And it is surely the most remarkable step in this
whole progression that still more radical doubters have
had to cross out this proposition as well. They have lost
even the certainty that they themselves exist. This last
doubt puts into question the one thing that the isolated
individual thinks about - his own small ego - and should
lead beyond the limits of knowledge: to belief in God.
Most people, however, hold on to the assurance that
because they think, they are.
III
Consciousness itself demands that we recognize this
state as a mortally diseased condition. But healing can
begin immediately when we recognize our origin in that
source where there is not isolation but vibrant unity.
Just as a child's awareness reaches beyond the bounds of
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
his own small body, so the consciousness of a healthy
person reaches out far beyond his own mind. True
consciousness is all-embracing. Its cosmic outlook goes
beyond the bounds of the whole world. Ultimately, it is
consciousness of the divine.
Consciousness wants to comprehend everything, to
penetrate everything. It is not content with what I am
as an individual and what I do within the limits of my
individuality. Consciousness pushes me to measure the
breadth and depth of the earth, of the entire universe.
Consciousness demands the impossible: it wants me to
survey the entire history of life, to understand its deepest
relationships.
Consciousness demands that mind and spirit strive
for what is infinite. It demands totality and universality.
It demands the whole, the comprehension and penetration
of the whole of life. It is hostile to isolation in every
form.
In its longing for infinity, it points to the Source and
the Creator - to God. Life and community exist in him
alone. He is the Spirit that surrounds and connects all
things. He rejoices in the self-sacrificing relationships
of everything that lives. And he creates unifying life in
the face of isolating death.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Healthy persons see and act in love. They have been
redeemed from isolation and are turned to God. Their
love goes out to all. They are no longer preoccupied
with themselves, but look at themselves in the context
of the whole. They know quite well that they are meant
to exist, but they are certain that life does not come
from themselves; they feel themselves to be part of a
greater whole. They know that the Holy Spirit is the
only power that makes everything truly alive. So their
affirmation of life finds voice in different words than his
previous self-delusion did.
Conscious of their smallness and limitation in the
face of the greatness of their calling, they can only say,
"I am, for I am being thought. I am alive, for I am being
lived! I have been created and called by the conscious
ness that penetrates all things." They place their life un
der God, under the comprehensive whole.
Persons who are on the way to health have to grasp
the whole and live for the whole. They throw their own
small, incapable self - which nonetheless has been called
into the great task of the comprehensive consciousness.
They permit their own ego to flourish only insofar as it
brings fruit and life to the whole.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Each of us suffers from separation and isolation. We
are sick and dying, diseased to the core. Our very life is
death. But before we can attain the health and vitality of
true life we must diagnose our illness - we must recognize
that we ourselves are the cause of this disease. Our
thoughts are repeatedly bound up within ourselves;
fundamentally, we are able to see only our own point of
view. We constantly call attention to ourselves, and fight
for our own advantage, for our own small existence.
It is unhealthy for a single organ of the body to force
itself on the whole. The loud pumping of the heart during
climbing, cycling or rowing tells us that something is
out of order. In the same way, a stab of pain in the chest,
or worse still the coughing up of blood, makes us keenly
aware of our lungs. We are forced to concern ourselves
with them, because it is clear that they are sick.
It is exactly the same with the individual person
within the community of mankind. When a person
makes himself noticeable - when he calls attention to
himself, emphasizing and giving prominence to his own
ego - then it is obvious that he is sick. He is in danger of
destroying the contexts necessary for healthy life. This is
seen most clearly in people with hysteria and neurasthenia
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
- those whose minds and bodies collapse under the
strain of worry and depression. We all know such
people; perhaps all of us are even like them to a greater
or lesser degree.
We all know the unhealthy state in which we try to
impress those around us by making outlandish remarks.
If this does not succeed, we attempt to attract attention
by witticisms and jokes. When this does not work, we
force people to notice us by angering them with our
insolence. When even this fails, some induce hysteria,
shivering, weeping, fainting, or even attempting suicide.
Such extremes succeed in forcing everyone around,
however unwilling, to notice them.
The diseased ego turns to audacious and peculiar
behavior because it can no longer attract attention
through talent or achievement. And it remains sick as
long as it lets its own little self come to the fore; as long
as it is touchy and hypersensitive; as long as it feels
pushed into the background; as long as it seeks preferential
treatment. This disease is fatal: it is a sign of inner
decomposition. An obtrusive ego exposes a disintegrating
life.
The sickness of the world lies in this isolation of the
accentuated ego. An individual who feels no pain but his
own cannot identify with the world's suffering. He
cares only for himself, fights only for his own existence,
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
and seeks only his own improvement and happiness. In
this way, he increases the suffering of others. He is a
parasite that endangers the whole. He has severed himself
from the reality and unity of life. He has cut himself off
from the whole, and must finally perish.
The only thing people really have in common today is
suffering. This should call us to solidarity. But we cannot
speak of solidarity and interdependence without speaking
first of joy - joy in others, which is love. This joy should
be the common property of all, but it is not. Most working
people are cut off from all access to joy - cut off from
the practical possibility of a communal life. People do
hope for better days, however, and this is important;
apart from this faith in the future, there is no reason for
them to help each other.
The subconscious behavior of our own bodies demon
strates unity of action for the good of the whole. If a
finger is hurt, for example, the whole body becomes
involved and is drawn into active sympathy. The injured
member conveys its message of distress to the brain
through the bloodstream, and within minutes a powerful
defense force has been assembled; defenders rush to the
place of attack from all parts. When one member suffers,
all members suffer with it. We see the same courageous
interventions in humankind as well, when we meet each
other with love and joyful assistance.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
It is deadly for one member of the body to withdraw
from mutual service. It is demonic when an individual
organ breaks away from the rulership of the uniting
soul. This separation of body and soul is most obvious in
diseased sexuality, but it is present as well wherever the
individual will separates itself from the spirit of the
whole.
The demonic power of self-centeredness rules personal
and public life everywhere. It dominates political,
social, and even religious groups to the extent that they
emphasize their own exclusive goals and interests,
acting autonomously and acknowledging only their
own, self-serving laws. Such groups have turned their
backs on the spirit of community. They do not give
themselves wholly in the service of others, because they
are estranged from the spirit that leads to future unity.
They evade the creative and renewing power that
transforms crumbling matter into coherent life. They
lack the impulse of life - the joyful dedication in love to
all that is alive.
The need of the world results from this one disease:
isolation as world suffering and world suffering as iso
lation. But the spirit of love can heal us and bring us
back to unity - unity in common work and fellowship.
And this spirit of love is already alive, amidst all division
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
and death, in the hidden, mysterious working of God's
living church.
Essay, 1927
Living or working together with other people, even those
who supposedly share our ideals and goals, can be extremely difficult. Joy in one another quickly gives way to irritation
- and then gossip and finally betrayal - when we allow ourselves to be annoyed by a person's character or way of
doing things. The solution, according to Arnold, is forth right honesty and humility.
There is no law but love. Love is joy in others. What,
then, is anger at them? Words of love convey the joy we
have in the presence of our brothers and sisters. It is out
of the question to speak about another person in a spirit
of irritation or vexation. There must never be talk, either
in open remarks or by insinuation, against any brother
or sister, or against their individual characteristics - and
under no circumstances behind their back. Gossiping in
one's family is no exception. Without this rule of silence
there can be no loyalty and thus no community.
Direct address is the only way possible. It is a service
we owe anyone whose weaknesses cause a negative
reaction in us. An open word spoken directly to another
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
person deepens friendship and will not be resented.
Only when two people do not come to an agreement
quickly is it necessary to draw in a third person whom
both of them trust. In this way they can be led to a solution
that unites them on the highest and deepest levels.
August 1925
Touchiness, opinionatedness, self-love, and self
centeredness: all these are obstacles to the common life.
To have a higher opinion of oneself than of others is a
deadly poison; it renders a person completely incapable
of living in community. Such persons can never
experience what is crucial: the unity of the great cause.
They suffer from a disease that will destroy body, soul,
and spirit.
People who live with themselves in the center - who
think about themselves all day long, who see everything
in relation to themselves, and from their own point of
view - are seriously ill. They are mentally disturbed.
They are far from becoming true brothers and sisters.
They are lost even in the midst of a communal household.
We are inclined to see the shortcomings of others far
out of proportion to our own weaknesses. If we look
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
carefully, however, we will see that we are actually all
the same. We must become reconciled to human
imperfection. And self-centeredness is a lying spirit. It
is completely false. Those who have such a high opinion of
themselves that they cannot admit to making mistakes
are living in the deepest untruthfulness and insincerity.
Their egotism must be condemned, not only because it
does not fit into community or because it is morally
wrong, but also because it brings death and destruction.
Self-centered people are mortally sick. They must be
redeemed. They must recognize that Christianity has an
objective content - that it is a cause for which we can
completely forget ourselves and our own little egos.
Self-importance is nothing but autosuggestion. It leads
to hypocrisy. And unless we are freed from all posturing,
from all affected holiness, we are utterly lost.
The people who are most endangered are those who
see God from their own point of view and make God
relate to themselves. But God's cause is a cause for which
we are not needed. We are not indispensable. We are not
just unimportant; we are an obstacle. We are adversaries of
the cause. Redemption cannot begin until we recognize
this and see ourselves, and our piety, as adversaries.
Until that happens we are deluding ourselves.
We are not the truth, and because we are not the truth
we cannot and should not place our own persons in the
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
center of our thoughts. We would make idols of ourselves.
The cause must be in the center. And redemption from
the life of self, from wanting to be in the right, from
imposing our own ways, comes only through a cause
that exists completely outside of our own selves.
We human beings can recognize light only in contrast
to shadow and darkness. We can grasp the cause only
through an awareness of its adversaries, for we are not
gods but men. Think of a campfire: when it is lit at night,
we who sit around it are illuminated even though we
remain seated in the dark. But it is the dark background
that makes our shining faces visible.
Those who are still in love with themselves cannot
recognize the cause; nor can they who are still in love
with their own religious experience, their conversion
and rebirth. Not until we see the great cause against the
wretchedness of our own insignificant beings will we
grasp its greatness.
In the early church the Holy Spirit came to people only
after they had recognized themselves as the murderers
of the longed-awaited Messiah - as adversaries of the
Holy Cause for which they had always striven. We are
afraid of this awful awakening, especially if we have sought
for years or decades to live holy lives and suddenly
recognize ourselves to be murderers and adversaries.
That is hard but necessary.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Paul was blinded when the Spirit came upon him, and
it was not exaggeration but deep conviction that led him
to say, "I am the worst of all men." He had been personally
responsible for the persecution of the church, for the
murder of Christian martyrs. Paul had to recognize that
he was a persecutor of the Messiah, a persecutor of the
kingdom of God. Not until he recognized this could he
become an apostle of God's cause. This cause, which
Karl Barth rightly says is "totally other" than what we our
selves are, is the only thing that can free us from our self
centeredness and touchiness, from our opinionatedness
and our quarrelsomeness, from all that makes us unfit to
live in community.
But unless we recognize ourselves as adversaries we
will never grasp the greatness of the cause. People who
make vows on the basis of their own radicalism, their
own piety, or their extreme "thoroughness," are incapable
of standing firm. Their vows are bound to collapse in
disgrace. But a vow that springs from the cause and for
the cause, a promise that leads us away from self,
simply cannot be broken...
Talk, August 1933
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Even when Arnold's own children were still quite young, he took in both homeless tramps and unwanted pregnant
women. He saw Christ in everyone he met, and welcomed with love each one who came to his door. Karl Keiderling,
who came to Sannerz in the 1920's, arrived with dirty clothes and wild, unkempt hair. Though a complete
stranger, he was embraced as an old friend: "We've been waiting for you," Arnold said, and he meant it:
Love sees the good Spirit at work within each person
and delights in it. Even if we have just been annoyed
with someone, we will feel new joy in them as soon as
love rules in us again. We will overcome our personal
disagreements and joyfully acknowledge the working of
the good Spirit in each other.
Augustine goes even further. He says we ought not to
see each other as we are now, but that we should see others
as they are meant to be, as they will be when God's
Spirit fills them completely.
Talk, March 1933
From Private Property to Community
For Arnold, community was the answer to all of life's prob lems. And he believed in community not because of any one
biblical commandment, but because he felt that the very life of Jesus - and the witness of the entire New
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
Testament - pointed toward it. But he did not stop at mere intellectual or even spiritual recognition of this truth;
rather, he pursued it to the point of practical realization. The result was community: community of goods and
community of spirit.
Humanity writhes in agony, on the verge of death, and
the most obvious sign of its mortal sickness is private
property. The root of property is separation and dis
integration, decay and corruption. These ills arise through
self-isolation, through the self-seeking of the covetous
will. Private property destroys the relationships we
have with each other and with God.
Private property is the root of murder, the cause of
war, the cause of vicious competition in business. It
leads to prostitution and marrying for money, which are
really the same thing, and is the cause of dishonesty in
business and of every other kind of lie. Our entire
economy is based on greed, on the profit motive, on the
individual's urge to self-preservation and his craving
for greater power.
Jesus rightly said that if the kingdom of Satan were
divided against itself, it would have fallen long ago. But
our highly developed capitalist economy does not fall,
because the demonic forces of greed work hand in glove
with each other. They all follow the same line. The
possessors thus become possessed.
E B E R H A R D A R N O L D - W R I T I N G S S E L E C T E D
When one sphere of human activity sets up its own
laws, irrespective of all others, it becomes an idol. Then
we are ruled by demons; life is rent apart and torn into