Chapter 2 of 29

Part 2

Part 2

Because he knows God to be the author of every good, whenever he is pressed by any need, he immediately turns to him for help. Having called upon his name, he waits for aid from him. Because he is persuaded of God's goodness and kindness, he rests securely in his clemency and does not doubt that in God's mercy a remedy is always prepared for all his miseries.

Insofar as he acknowledges him as Lord and Father, he regards him as worthy that he should devote himself to his command, revere his majesty, endeavor to advance his glory, and follow his will.

Insofar as he sees him to be a righteous Judge who will one day take severe vengeance upon all transgressors, he continually sets God's throne before his eyes so that he may be restrained from everything that provokes his wrath.

Nevertheless, he is not so terrified by the thought of God's judgment that he desires to withdraw from it, even if some means of escape were available. On the contrary, he receives God no less willingly as the punisher of the wicked than as the rewarder of the righteous, since he knows that it belongs no less to God's glory to punish the evil and unrighteous than to bestow the reward of eternal life upon the faithful.

Moreover, he is not restrained from sinning merely by fear of vengeance. Because he loves and reveres God as his Father and fears him as his Lord, even if there were no hell, he would still dread offending him.

This is pure and true religion: faith joined with an unfeigned fear of God—provided that under the word fear we comprehend both a love

for the righteousness God has ordained in his law and the reverence willingly rendered to his majesty with an undivided heart.

Therefore, if we have all been born for the purpose of knowing God, and if the knowledge of him is vain and unfruitful unless it reaches this point, it is evident that all who do not direct every thought and action of their lives toward this end turn aside and fall away from the order of their creation.

Even the philosophers were not ignorant of this. Plato meant nothing else when he repeatedly taught that the soul's highest good is likeness to God, when, having attained the true contemplation of him, it is altogether transformed into him.

Accordingly, Gryllus also reasons very wisely in Plutarch when he maintains that, if religion were removed from human life, men would not merely possess no excellence above the brute beasts, but would in many ways be considerably more miserable. For, being subject to so many kinds of evils, they lead a laborious and restless life.

It is the knowledge of God alone that renders them superior, for through it they may aspire to immortality.

Since God has willed that the principal end of the blessed life should consist in the knowledge of his name, he manifests himself clearly to all, lest he should appear to exclude anyone from entrance into blessedness.

For although by nature he is incomprehensible and hidden from human understanding, he has engraved upon each of his works certain marks of his majesty by which he makes himself known to us

according to our limited capacity. I mean marks so conspicuous and evident that even the blindest and most ignorant people in the world are deprived of every excuse for ignorance.

Therefore, although his essence is hidden from us, his powers, which continually appear before our eyes, reveal him to us insofar as it is necessary for us to know him for our salvation.

First, wherever we turn our eyes, there is no portion of the world so small that at least some spark of his glory does not shine within it. In particular, we cannot survey this beautiful masterpiece of the whole world in all its length and breadth without being, so to speak, completely dazzled by an infinite abundance of light.

For this reason, the apostle to the Hebrews rightly calls the worlds mirrors of invisible things, because the ordered structure of the world serves us as a mirror in which to contemplate God, who is otherwise invisible. —Hebrews 11:3.

For the same reason, the prophet attributes to the heavenly creatures a language known to every nation, since they bear such evident testimony to the divine nature that it cannot remain unknown even to the most ignorant and barbarous peoples. —Psalm 19.

Saint Paul explains this more openly when he says that what needed to be known of God has been manifested, since his invisible attributes—even his eternal power and divinity—become apparent when contemplated through the creation of the world. —Romans 1:19–20.

There are innumerable evidences, both in heaven and upon earth, that testify to his marvelous wisdom. I do not mean only those that are difficult to comprehend and can be understood only through the study of astronomy, medicine, and natural philosophy, but also those plainly visible to the most uneducated. Thus men cannot open their eyes without being compelled to become witnesses of God's wisdom.

It is true that those instructed in the liberal arts, or who have at least acquired some knowledge of them, possess special assistance in penetrating more deeply into the secrets of divine wisdom. Nevertheless, no one is prevented by ignorance of these disciplines from perceiving abundant skill in the works of God and thus being moved to admiration of their Maker.

For example, exceptional knowledge and skill are required to investigate the movements of the stars, arrange their courses, measure their distances, and observe the distinctive property of each. As God's providence displays itself more clearly through such study, the heart ought correspondingly to be raised higher in acknowledging his glory.

Nevertheless, even those who possess no assistance other than their own eyes cannot remain ignorant of the excellence of divine wisdom, which plainly reveals itself in the infinite and beautifully ordered variety of the stars. It is therefore certain that there is no one to whom God does not sufficiently declare his wisdom.

Likewise, no small degree of subtle understanding is required to perceive in the construction of the human body that harmony, proportion, beauty, and usefulness which Galen demonstrates. Yet the human body presents to everyone's sight so ingenious a

composition that its Maker deserves to be judged worthy of admiration on its account.

Moreover, by how many examples does the power of God draw us to contemplate him? This must necessarily happen unless we remain ignorant of what power is required to sustain by his Word alone this infinite expanse of heaven and earth; at his command to make the heavens tremble with thunder, to consume with lightning whatever he pleases, to set the air ablaze with flashes of light, and to astonish the world with various kinds of storms; and then, whenever he pleases, immediately to restore it to perfect serenity.

By that same power he so restrains the sea, suspended as it were in the air, that it cannot harm the earth, although from its height it threatens to destroy it. At one moment he stirs it up terribly through the great violence of the winds; at the next he calms its waves and renders it tranquil.

This same power ought also to lead us to consider his eternity. For he from whom all things derive their origin must necessarily be eternal and have his beginning from himself.

Furthermore, if we seek the reason that moved him both to create all things once for all and afterward to preserve them in their created state, we shall find no other cause than his goodness.

Even if his goodness stood alone, it ought to be more than sufficient to draw us to love him, since, as the prophet teaches, there is no creature upon which his mercy has not been poured out. —Psalm 145:9.

Similarly, in the second class of God's works—those events that occur beyond the ordinary course of nature—equally evident signs of his attributes appear.

For in governing the human race, he so orders his providence that although he is generally kind and generous toward all in every way, he nevertheless daily displays his righteousness toward the good by governing them, and his judgment toward the wicked.

The vengeance he executes upon sins is neither hidden nor unknown. Likewise, he shows beyond all doubt that he is the guardian and protector of innocence by prospering the lives of the righteous through his blessing, supplying their needs, relieving their sorrows, remedying their adversities, and providing in every way for their salvation.

Although he permits the wicked and evildoers to remain unpunished for a time, while allowing the good and innocent to be burdened with many adversities and even oppressed by the unrighteousness of the wicked, the perpetual rule of his justice ought not thereby to be obscured.

On the contrary, we ought to reach an altogether different conclusion. Whenever his wrath is manifestly declared against any sin, we must recognize that all sins are detestable to him. And because he leaves many sins unpunished, we must await another judgment to which their punishment has been deferred.

Likewise, what abundant occasion he gives us to contemplate his mercy when he does not cease extending his clemency toward

miserable sinners, drawing them back to himself with more than fatherly kindness until their obstinacy is broken by his benefits.

His power and wisdom are no less clearly displayed. His power is plainly manifested when the cruelty of the wicked, which appeared invincible to human judgment, is often broken and annihilated in a single moment; their arrogance subdued; all their fortifications destroyed; their armies shattered and broken to pieces; their strength scattered; their undertakings overturned and confounded by their own violence; and their audacity, which exalted itself to the heavens, cast down to the center of the earth.

Conversely, the despised are raised from the dust and the poor lifted from the dunghill. The oppressed and afflicted are delivered from extreme anguish; those who had despaired are restored to good hope; the unarmed and few prevail against the many and well armed, and the weak against the strong.

God's wisdom appears in ordering all things according to their proper time, confounding all worldly wisdom, taking the wise in their own craftiness, and governing the whole administration of the world according to his singular reason.

We see, then, that no lengthy or intricate demonstration is required to set forth the testimonies that illuminate and confirm the majesty of God. From the few examples we have touched upon, it is evident that these testimonies are so conspicuous and confront us so completely wherever we turn that they may readily be marked by the eye and pointed out with the finger.

We must observe here that we are invited to a knowledge of God that does not consist merely in empty speculation, but is useful and fruitful when once properly received by us.

For God is manifested to us through his works. When we experience their power within ourselves and receive their benefit, we must necessarily be affected far more deeply by such knowledge than if we merely imagined God somewhere in the air without any experiential awareness of him within ourselves.

From this we see that the proper way to seek God, and the best order we can follow, is to contemplate him in his works. Through them he draws near and becomes familiar to us, and even communicates himself to us.

We must not attempt, through presumptuous curiosity, to scrutinize the greatness of his essence, which we ought rather to adore than investigate too curiously. The apostle had this in view when he said that God need not be sought far away, since by his power he dwells in each one of us. —Acts 17:27–28.

For the same reason, David, after confessing God's unutterable greatness, turns to recounting his works and declares that he will proclaim him through them.

Therefore, let us also apply ourselves to this search for God—a search that holds our minds in admiration while also affecting them and giving them a true apprehension of him.

Such knowledge ought not only to move us to honor and serve God, but also to incite and urge us toward the hope of the life to come.

For since we perceive that the tokens our Lord gives us of both his clemency and his faithfulness are only partial and incomplete, we must recognize them as samples of what will one day be fully revealed on the day appointed for that purpose.

On the other hand, since we see the good and innocent burdened with afflictions, harassed by injuries, oppressed by slanders, and mistreated with insults and reproaches, while the wicked flourish and prosper, enjoying peace and honor without any distress, we must conclude that there will be another life in which unrighteousness will receive its punishment and righteousness its reward.

Moreover, since we see the faithful frequently chastened by the Lord's rods, we ought firmly to conclude that the wicked will much less escape his chastisements.

We must therefore confess that in each of the Lord's works—but especially in the total multitude of them—his attributes are represented as in paintings. Through these, the whole world is invited to the knowledge of God and, through that knowledge, to the enjoyment of supreme blessedness.

Yet although these attributes appear there with the greatest clarity, we often fail to understand where they lead, what they signify, and for what purpose they ought to be understood, until we descend into ourselves and consider how God displays his life, wisdom, and power within us, and exercises his righteousness, goodness, and mercy toward us.

Nevertheless, whatever light may be kindled for us in the contemplation of God's works to represent both him and his

immortal kingdom, our minds are so carnal that we see nothing in these manifest testimonies, any more than if we were blind.

For as regards the whole structure of the world, how many of us, when we lift our eyes toward heaven or cast them over all the regions of the earth, bring our minds back to the remembrance of the Creator? Do we not rather leave the Maker behind and stop at the contemplation of the creatures?

And as regards those events that ordinarily occur beyond the course of nature, how many people suppose that fortune rules them, tossing and driving men here and there, rather than that the providence of God governs them well?

If at times we are compelled to return to the consideration of God in these matters—as necessarily happens to all men—then, immediately after conceiving some slight awareness of an uncertain deity, we fall back into the follies of our flesh and corrupt the pure truth of God by our vanity.

It is true that we differ in this respect: each person individually fashions some new error for himself. But in this we are all alike: every last one of us forsakes the one true God in order to embrace our lying imaginations.

This evil afflicts not only the simple common people and those of dull understanding, but also those most distinguished for wisdom and learning.

How fully has the entire race of philosophers displayed its folly and stupidity in this matter! For even if we pardon the others, who went

astray in a thoroughly disorderly fashion, Plato himself—who among them all was the most sober and reasonable and came closest to true religion—became altogether confused here, for he sought a corporeal God. This is unworthy of and wholly unsuited to the divine majesty.

What, then, could happen to the others, since the foremost among them, whose duty it was to enlighten and give light to the rest of the people, went astray so grievously?

Likewise, although the government of human affairs displays providence so clearly that it is impossible to deny it, men profit no more from this than if they believed all things were recklessly tossed and turned about by fortune. Such is our inclination toward vanity and error.

I am still speaking of the most distinguished, not of the common people, whose folly has overflowed beyond measure in polluting and corrupting the truth of God.

It is therefore in vain that so many lamps shine upon us throughout the structure of the world to illuminate the glory of the Creator. Although they cast their rays upon us, they cannot guide us into the right path. They do indeed emit certain sparks, but these are extinguished before they reach full brightness.

Therefore, in the same passage where the apostle calls the world an image of invisible things, he adds that it is by faith that man understands that it was framed by the Word of God. He signifies that the invisible divinity is represented by the visible form of the world, but that our eyes fail to behold it unless they are enlightened by the inward revelation of God through faith. —Hebrews 11:3.

Likewise, when Saint Paul teaches that what ought to be known concerning God is manifested through the creation of the world, he does not mean a manifestation that the human understanding is capable of receiving properly. Rather, he indicates that it proceeds no further than to render men inexcusable. —Romans 1:19–20.

The same apostle, although he says in one passage that God need not be sought far away because he dwells in us, teaches elsewhere how little this nearness profits us:

In former times, God permitted the nations to walk in their own ways. Nevertheless, he did not leave himself without witness, sending his benefits from heaven, giving rains and fruitful seasons, and filling men with food and gladness.

—Acts 14:16–17.

Therefore, although God is not without witnesses—for by his generosity he gently invites men to the knowledge of himself—they nevertheless continue to follow their own ways; that is, they walk in damnable error.

Although our natural ability fails us so that we cannot ascend to a pure and sound knowledge of God, nevertheless, because the fault of this ignorance lies within us, every evasion is taken away.

We are not permitted to plead ignorance in such a way that we are not continually convicted of negligence and ingratitude.

It would certainly be a wretched defense, unworthy of being admitted, if man were to claim that he lacked ears to hear the truth

which even creatures without understanding proclaim with a clear and loud voice; that he had no eyes to see what creatures possessing no sight display; or that, because of the weakness of his mind, he failed to know what all creatures without intelligence teach.

Therefore, we are justly deprived of every excuse for wandering aimlessly across the fields like those who are lost, when all things point out the right way to us.

Nevertheless, although it must be attributed to the corruption of men that they immediately corrupt the seed of the knowledge of God spread within their understanding through the marvelous workmanship of nature, so that it never comes to good fruit, it is still most certainly true that the simple and bare testimony the creatures render to God's greatness does not sufficiently instruct us as we now are.

For as soon as we have acquired some slight taste of divinity through contemplating the world, we forsake the true God and set up in his place the dreams and imaginations of our own minds, transferring to them the praise of righteousness, wisdom, goodness, and power.

Moreover, we so obscure God's daily works—or overturn them by judging them wrongly—that we rob and deprive him of the praise and thanksgiving due to him for them.

Therefore, just as the Lord sets before everyone without exception the brightness of his majesty, represented in his creatures, in order to strip human impiety of every defense, so on the other hand he provides a surer remedy for the weakness of those to whom he is pleased to make himself known unto salvation.

For their instruction he does not employ only mute creatures, but also opens his sacred mouth. He not only declares to them that some God ought to be worshiped, but also shows them that he himself is the God who must be worshiped. He not only teaches them to acknowledge a God, but also presents himself to them as the one upon whom they must depend.

Indeed, from the beginning, the Lord has followed this order in calling his servants: in addition to all the teachings already mentioned, he has employed his Word, which is a more certain and familiar mark by which he may be known.

In this manner Adam, Noah, Abraham, and the other fathers entered into a right knowledge of him, being enlightened by his Word— whether it was communicated to them through oracles and visions or, having first been revealed to their forefathers, was delivered to them through their preaching, as it were from hand to hand.

For it made no difference how they became partakers of the divine Word, provided they understood that it had proceeded from God. Of this the Lord always made them certain whenever he was pleased to grant a revelation of it.

God therefore disclosed himself to a small number of people, giving them a manifest sign of his presence. He entrusted to them the treasure of his saving doctrine so that they might serve as its stewards toward their posterity.

Thus we see that Abraham communicated to his household the covenant of eternal life that had been given to him and took care that it should be preserved for the generation to come.

From that time onward, the descendants of Abraham were distinguished from the other nations by this difference: through a singular grace of God, they had been received into this fellowship of the Word.

Then, when it pleased the Lord to establish a church yet more distinctly separated from others, he published that same Word more solemnly and willed that it should be committed to writing as an authoritative document.

From that time, therefore, the oracles and revelations of God's Word began to be recorded in writing. Previously, they had been preserved among the faithful people by being handed down from one person to another.

In this matter, the Lord provided for the welfare of later generations by a singular providence. For if we consider how inclined the human understanding is to fall into forgetfulness of God, how easily it is led into error, and how fickle it is in devising new and counterfeit religions at every moment, we can readily recognize how necessary it was for heavenly doctrine to be committed to writing, so that it might not perish through forgetfulness, vanish through error, or be corrupted by the audacity of men.

It is therefore evident that God employed his Word toward those whom he willed to instruct fruitfully, because he saw that the figure and image of himself imprinted upon the structure of the world was not sufficient. We must consequently walk by this path if we sincerely aspire to the right contemplation of his truth.

We must, I say, return to the Word, in which God is most clearly shown to us and vividly portrayed through his works, when those works are judged not according to the perversity of our understanding, but according to the rule of eternal truth.

If we turn aside from that Word, then no matter how swiftly we run, we shall never reach the goal, because we are running outside the path.

For we must understand that the light of God, which the apostle calls inaccessible, is like a labyrinth in which we shall lose ourselves unless we are guided through it by the direction of the Word. Thus, it is better to limp along this path than to run swiftly outside it.

Accordingly, after David has recounted how the glory of God is proclaimed by the heavens, how the works of his hands are declared by the firmament, and how his majesty is manifested through the beautifully ordered succession of day and night, he then proceeds to speak of God's Word:

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, giving wisdom to the simple; the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is clear, enlightening the eyes.

—Psalm 19:7–8.

By this he signifies that instruction through the creatures is common to all, but instruction through the Word is the particular school of the children of God.

Once it has been established that the Word set before us is from God, no one could be so desperately audacious—unless he were altogether destitute of natural sense and even of humanity—as to dare withhold belief from it.

But because new oracles are not brought down from heaven every day, and we possess only Scripture, in which it pleased God to preserve his truth in everlasting remembrance, we must briefly explain why Scripture possesses among believers the same authority that the voice of God would possess if heard from his own mouth.

This matter certainly deserves to be treated more fully and considered more diligently. Nevertheless, readers will pardon me if I pay greater regard to what the plan of the present book permits than to what the magnitude of the subject requires.

Many are entangled in this most pernicious error: that Scripture possesses no more authority than is granted to it by the consent of the church—as though the eternal and inviolable truth of God rested upon the pleasure of men.

With great dishonor to the Holy Spirit, they ask: Who will certify to us that Scripture proceeded from God? Who will assure us that it has been preserved entire down to our time? Who will persuade us that one book ought to be received with obedience and another rejected, unless the church supplies a certain rule concerning all these matters?

They therefore conclude that determining what reverence we owe to Scripture and what books ought to be included within it rests upon the decision of the church.

In this manner, these blasphemers, desiring to establish an unrestrained tyranny under the pretense of the church, care nothing about the absurdities in which they entangle themselves and others, provided they can persuade the simple that everything is lawful for the church.

But if this were so, what would become of poor consciences seeking certain assurance of eternal life, when they saw all its promises resting and depending upon the judgment of men alone? If they held such an opinion, how could they ever cease trembling and wavering?

Moreover, to what mockery by unbelievers would our faith be exposed? How suspect would it become in the eyes of the whole world if it were thought to rest upon the mercy and good pleasure of men?

But such liars are easily refuted by a single statement from Saint Paul, who testifies that the church is supported upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles. —Ephesians 2:20.

If the doctrine of the prophets and apostles is the foundation of the church, then that doctrine must possess its certainty before the church begins to appear.

Nor can they evade the matter by arguing that although the church originated from that source, it nevertheless remained uncertain which books ought to be attributed to the prophets and apostles until the church rendered its judgment upon them.

For if the Christian church was from the beginning founded upon the writings of the prophets and the preaching of the apostles, then

wherever that doctrine is found, its authority must have preceded the church, since without it the church could never have existed.

It is therefore a delusion and a falsehood to say that the church has the power to judge Scripture in such a way that it grants Scripture, according to its own pleasure, whatever certainty it possesses.

Accordingly, when the church receives and approves Scripture, it does not thereby make it authentic, as though it had previously been doubtful and uncertain. Rather, because the church recognizes it as the truth of its Lord, it immediately reveres it, as duty requires.

As for their question—How shall we know that Scripture came from God if we do not appeal to the decree of the church?—it is as though someone asked how we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, or bitter from sweet.

For Scripture displays no less evident a testimony to its truth than white and black things display their colors, or sweet and bitter things their tastes.

Nevertheless, if we wish to provide properly for consciences so that they are not continually agitated by doubt, we must derive the authority of Scripture from a higher source than human reasons, evidences, or conjectures. We must, namely, ground it upon the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit.

For although Scripture possesses in its own majesty enough to command reverence, it begins truly to affect us only when it is sealed upon our hearts by the Holy Spirit.

Being enlightened by his power, we no longer believe—either on the basis of our own judgment or that of others—that Scripture is from God. Rather, above all human judgment, we hold it as indubitable that Scripture was given to us from the very mouth of God through the ministry of men, just as if we visibly beheld the very essence of God in it.

We do not seek arguments or probabilities upon which our judgment may rest. Instead, we submit our judgment and understanding to Scripture as to something exalted beyond any need of being judged.

We do not do this as some are accustomed lightly to receive an unknown thing that later displeases them once it has become known. Rather, we do so because we are entirely certain that in Scripture we possess unconquerable truth.

Nor do we submit as ignorant people are accustomed to make their minds captive to superstitions. We do so because we perceive there the express power of the divine nature displaying its energy. By this power we are drawn and inflamed knowingly and willingly to obey, yet with an efficacy greater than that of human will or knowledge.

It is therefore a persuasion that does not require reasons, yet a knowledge supported by the very best reason: namely, that our minds possess in it a more certain and secure rest than in any reasons.

Finally, it is a conviction that can be produced only by heavenly revelation.

I say nothing other than what every believer experiences within himself, except that words fall far beneath the dignity of the subject and are insufficient to explain it properly.

If we do not possess this certainty—higher and firmer than every human judgment—then in vain will the authority of Scripture be proved by arguments, established by the consent of the church, or confirmed by other evidences. Unless this foundation is laid first, Scripture will always remain in suspense.

Conversely, once Scripture has been received with the obedience properly due to it and freed from every doubt, the reasons that previously possessed little power to fix and implant its certainty within our hearts will then become excellent aids.

It is impossible to express how greatly Scripture is confirmed when we carefully consider how well God has arranged and ordered within it the dispensation of his wisdom; how its doctrine everywhere reveals itself to be heavenly, containing nothing earthly; how beautifully all its parts agree with one another; and the many other characteristics suited to give authority to writings.

Moreover, our hearts are strengthened still more when we consider that it is the majesty of the subject matter, rather than the elegance of the words, that carries us away in admiration.

Indeed, it was not without the great providence of God that the sublime mysteries of the heavenly kingdom were delivered to us in humble words without great eloquence. Had they been supported and adorned by eloquence, the wicked would have slanderously claimed that all their power resided in it.

But now, since this simple, unpolished, and almost rustic manner moves us to greater reverence than all the eloquence of the world's rhetoricians, what can we conclude except that Scripture contains within itself such power of truth that it has no need of verbal artistry?

It is therefore not without reason that the apostle argues that the faith of the Corinthians was founded not upon human wisdom but upon the power of God, since his preaching among them had not consisted in persuasive words of human wisdom but had been confirmed by demonstrations of the Spirit and of power. —1 Corinthians 2:4–5.

For the truth is free from every doubt when, without external assistance, it is sufficient of itself to stand firm.

How peculiarly this power belongs to Scripture appears from the fact that no human writings, however skillfully polished and adorned, possess equal power to move us.

Let us read Demosthenes or Cicero, Plato or Aristotle, or any others of their company. I readily confess that they will wonderfully attract, delight, and move us, even to the point of transporting the mind.

But if we turn from them to the reading of Holy Scripture, whether we wish it or not, Scripture will pierce us to the very heart. It will so penetrate our hearts and fix itself so deeply within us that, compared with its efficacy, all the power of rhetoricians and philosophers will be nothing but smoke.

From this it is easy to perceive that Holy Scripture possesses a divine quality for inspiring men, since it so greatly surpasses all the graces produced by human skill.

On the other hand, the consent of the church is not without importance. It should not be regarded as nothing that, throughout all the ages since Scripture was published, there has been a perpetual agreement in submitting to it.

Although the devil has striven in many ways to oppress or overthrow it—even to erase it entirely from the memory of men—it has nevertheless always remained, like the palm tree, unconquered and victorious.

For scarcely any philosopher or rhetorician of outstanding intelligence has failed to apply his subtlety against Scripture. Yet all have accomplished nothing. The whole power of the earth has armed itself to destroy its truth, and all its efforts have vanished into smoke.

How could Scripture have resisted when so fiercely attacked from every side if it had been defended only by human support?

We ought rather to conclude that the Holy Scripture we possess is from God, since, in spite of all the wisdom and power of men, it has nevertheless advanced by its own power.

Moreover, it was not merely one city or nation that conspired to receive it. Across the whole breadth and length of the earth, Scripture has obtained its authority through the harmonious consent of peoples who otherwise possessed nothing in common.

Such agreement among peoples so diverse, who otherwise differ in their customs and manner of life, ought to move us, since it is evident that the power of God worked to bring them into agreement.

Nevertheless, this consideration will carry still greater weight when we contemplate the integrity and holiness of those who agreed to receive Scripture. I do not mean every one of them, but those whom our Lord appointed as lamps in his church to enlighten it through the radiance of their holiness.

Moreover, with what certainty ought we to receive this doctrine, which we see sealed and attested by the blood of so many holy persons?

Once they had received it, they did not hesitate to die courageously and even joyfully for it. How, then, can we fail to receive it with a certain and invincible persuasion, since it has been delivered to us with such a pledge and confirmation?

It is therefore no small confirmation of Scripture that it has been sealed by the blood of so many witnesses—especially when we recognize that they did not suffer death for the testimony of their faith through frenzy or madness, as sometimes happens with minds carried away by error and deprived of reason, but through a zeal for God as sober and well regulated as it was firm and constant.

There are many other clear and compelling reasons by which the majesty and dignity of Scripture may not only be established in the hearts of believers but also powerfully defended against the malice of slanderers.

Nevertheless, these reasons are not sufficient in themselves to establish Scripture's certainty properly until the heavenly Father causes his divinity to shine forth within it, removes it from every doubt and dispute, and establishes firm reverence for it.

Therefore, Scripture will finally satisfy us with the saving knowledge of God only when its certainty rests upon the inward persuasion of the Holy Spirit.

The human testimonies that serve to confirm it will then cease to be vain when they follow this principal and sovereign testimony as secondary aids and means provided to support our weakness.

Those who forsake Scripture and imagine some other path by which to reach God are not so much deceived by error as driven by sheer madness.

Certain fanatics of this kind have lately arisen who proudly pretend to possess the teaching of the Spirit. They themselves despise all reading and mock the simplicity of those who still follow what they call the dead and killing letter.

But I should like to ask them: Who is this spirit by whose inspiration they are carried so high that they dare despise the whole doctrine of Scripture as childish and contemptible?

If they reply that it is the Spirit of Christ, their confidence is altogether ridiculous. For I suppose they will concede that the apostles and believers of the primitive church were inspired by the Spirit of Christ. Yet none of them learned thereby to despise the

Word of God. On the contrary, each was moved to greater reverence for it, as their writings clearly testify.

Moreover, I should like them to answer this question: Have they received a different spirit from the one the Lord promised to his disciples? Although they are mad beyond measure, I do not suppose they have been carried away by such insanity that they would dare boast of this.

What did the Lord declare that his Spirit would be when he promised him? He said that the Spirit would not speak from himself, but would bring to the apostles' remembrance what Christ had taught them by his Word. —John 14:26; 16:13.

It is therefore not the office of the Holy Spirit, as he has been promised to us, to invent new and previously unknown revelations or to devise some new form of doctrine that draws us away from the doctrine of the gospel once received. Rather, his office is to seal and confirm within our hearts the doctrine dispensed to us through the gospel.

From this we readily understand that we must diligently labor both to hear and to read Scripture if we desire to receive any fruit or benefit from the Spirit of God.

Conversely, if any spirit forsakes the wisdom contained in the Word of God and brings us a different doctrine, he ought rightly to be suspected of vanity and falsehood.

What else could we do? Since Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, what authority would the Spirit possess among us if he were

not distinguished by a most certain mark?

He is indeed sufficiently and clearly identified for us by the voice of the Lord, unless these miserable people deliberately desire to wander into their own confusion, seeking a spirit from themselves rather than the Spirit who proceeds from him.

But they object that it would be a great absurdity for the Spirit of God, to whom all things ought to be subject, to be made subject to Scripture.

As though it were a dishonor to the Holy Spirit to be everywhere like and consistent with himself, to remain perpetually constant, and never to vary!

Certainly, if he were subjected to some human, angelic, or other standard, one might say that he was thereby lowered and reduced to servitude. But when he is compared with himself and considered according to his own character, who can say that he is thereby injured?

"But in this way," they say, "he is subjected to examination."

I admit it. But it is an examination by which he has willed that his majesty should be established among us. It ought to be sufficient for us when he reveals himself. But so that the spirit of Satan may not gain entrance under his name, the Holy Spirit wills to be recognized by us in the image of himself that he has imprinted upon Scripture.

He is the author of Scripture. He cannot be variable or unlike himself. Therefore, he must always remain such as he once revealed

himself there.

This brings him no dishonor, unless we would say that it would be honorable for him to degenerate from himself.

As for their accusation that we adhere too closely to "the letter that kills," they show by this how they do not escape God's punishment for having despised Scripture.

For it is evident that in this passage Saint Paul is contending against those deceivers who exalt the bare law apart from Christ, thereby turning the people away from the grace of the New Testament, in which the Lord promises that he will engrave his law upon the inward parts of believers and write it upon their hearts.

The law of God, therefore, is a dead letter and kills its disciples when it is separated from the grace of Christ and merely sounds in the ears without touching the heart.

But if by the Spirit of God it is livingly impressed upon the will, and if it communicates Jesus Christ to us, then it is the Word of life, converting souls and giving wisdom to the simple.

Indeed, in the same passage the apostle calls his preaching "the ministry of the Spirit." —2 Corinthians 3:6–8.

By this he signifies that the Spirit of God is so joined and bound to his truth, which he has expressed in the Scriptures, that he finally displays his power when the Word is received with the reverence properly due to it.

This in no way contradicts what was said shortly before: that the Word possesses little certainty for us unless it is confirmed by the testimony of the Spirit.

For the Lord has bound together, as by a mutual bond, the certainty of his Spirit and of his Word. He has done this so that our understanding may receive the Word with obedience when it sees the Spirit shining within it as a light by which it may contemplate the face of God. Likewise, he has done it so that we may receive the Spirit of God without fear of deception or error, recognizing him in his image—that is, in his Word.

And truly, this is how the matter stands. God did not communicate to men a Word that he intended immediately to abolish when his Spirit came. Rather, he sent the same Spirit by whose power he had previously dispensed his Word, so that by effectually confirming it he might complete his work through it.

In this manner Christ opened the understanding of the two disciples —not to make them wise by themselves through rejecting Scripture, but so that they might understand it. —Luke 24:27, 45.

Likewise, when Saint Paul exhorts the Thessalonians not to quench the Spirit, he does not carry them away into the air toward empty speculations apart from the Word. He immediately adds that they must not despise prophecies. —1 Thessalonians 5:19–20.

By this he certainly signifies that the light of the Spirit is extinguished when prophecies are treated with contempt.

What will these proud fanatics say to this, who regard no illumination as valid except when, forsaking and despising the Word of God, they rashly embrace whatever enters their imagination while dreaming?

A very different sobriety ought to characterize the children of God. Because they see themselves deprived of every light of truth when they are without the Spirit of God, they also know that the Word is the instrument through which the Lord dispenses the illumination of his Spirit to believers.

For they acknowledge no other Spirit than the one who dwelt in the apostles and spoke through their mouths—the Spirit by whom they are continually brought back and led again to attend to the Word.

But since we have taught that the knowledge of God—which is otherwise displayed abundantly enough in the structure of the world and in all creatures—is nevertheless declared to us more familiarly through his Word, we must now consider whether God represents himself in Scripture as he has already been shown to us in his works. This would certainly be a lengthy subject if one wished to treat it thoroughly. I shall be content, however, merely to present a summary by which believing consciences may be instructed concerning what they ought chiefly to seek concerning God in the Scriptures, and may be directed toward a definite goal in order to attain it.

First, then, the Lord declares himself to be the God who, after creating heaven and earth, poured out his infinite grace and beneficence upon the human race. Nevertheless, he has always and continually nourished and sustained believers, preserving them by

his particular grace; and he, in turn, has been known and honored by them. Likewise, through the histories of every age, he sets before our eyes—as though in a painting—the constancy of his goodness toward believers: how carefully his providence watches over them; how inclined he is to do them good; how powerful his help is; how ardently he loves them; how great his patience is in bearing with their faults; what fatherly mercy he displays in chastening them; and how faithfully he keeps his promises to them forever.

On the other hand, he shows the severity of his vengeance upon sinners: how terrifying the kindling of his wrath is after he has borne with them for a long time, and how mighty his hand is to confound and scatter them. This description agrees very well with what we have said appears in the whole fabric of the world.

Yet in one particular passage God's character is expressed in such a way that his face is vividly represented to us, so that we may behold it plainly. For in the description given by Moses, it seems that he intended briefly to comprehend everything that men are permitted to know concerning God. He speaks in this manner:

"The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, patient, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for a thousand generations, forgiving iniquity and sins, yet by no means holding the guilty innocent, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children and grandchildren." —Exodus 34

Here we must observe that God's eternity and his self-existent being are proclaimed by the name first attributed to him. This name, repeated twice in Hebrew, means as much as "the One who alone is."

Then his attributes are recounted, by which he is shown to us—not as he is in himself, but as he is toward us. Thus this knowledge consists more in living experience than in empty speculation.

Moreover, we see that the attributes enumerated here are those which, as we have noted, shine forth in heaven and earth: namely, mercy, goodness, compassion, righteousness, judgment, and truth. His power is included under the Hebrew word given to him as his third title, which means one who contains all powers within himself.

The prophets likewise ascribe these same titles to him when they wish fully to magnify his holy name. So that we need not collect a great many passages, one psalm will suffice for the present, in which the whole sum of his attributes is so diligently recounted that nothing is omitted. Yet nothing is named there that cannot also be contemplated in the creatures. Thus God makes himself known to us by experience as the very same God whom he declares himself to be in his Word. —Psalm 145

In Jeremiah, where God declares how he wills to be known by us, he does not give so full a description; nevertheless, it comes to the same thing:

"Let him who glories glory in this: that he knows me, the God who exercises mercy, justice, and judgment in the earth." —Jeremiah 9

Certainly, these three things are chiefly necessary for us to know: his mercy, in which the salvation of us all consists; his judgment, which

he daily executes upon the wicked and reserves for them in a still more severe form unto eternal ruin; and his righteousness, by which his faithful people are graciously preserved. When these things are comprehended, the prophet testifies that we have abundant reason to glory in God.

Yet in saying this, neither his power, his truth, his holiness, nor his goodness is omitted. For how could the knowledge of his righteousness, mercy, and judgment—as required in that passage— stand unless it were founded upon his immutable truth? And how could anyone believe that he governs the earth in righteousness and judgment without first understanding his power? From where does his mercy proceed, if not from his goodness? Finally, if all his ways are mercy, judgment, and righteousness, then his holiness likewise shines forth in them.

Now the knowledge of God presented to us in Scripture tends toward no other end than that which is given to us through the creatures: namely, first to awaken us to the fear of God, and afterward to lead us to place our trust in him, so that we may learn to serve and honor him through innocence of life and sincere obedience, and to rest wholly in his goodness.

Nevertheless, because God does not present himself to be rightly and immediately contemplated except in the face of his Christ—and because that face can be beheld only with the eyes of faith—it will be better to defer what remains to be said concerning the knowledge of God until we come to speak of the understanding of that faith.

CHAPTER TWO

The Knowledge of Man and Free Will

It is not without reason that the ancient proverb has always so strongly commended to man the knowledge of himself. For if we consider it shameful to be ignorant of the things that pertain to human life, ignorance of ourselves is far more disgraceful, since through it we miserably deceive ourselves when deliberating about everything necessary and are left altogether blind.

But the more useful this commandment is, the more diligently we must guard against misunderstanding it—as we see has happened to certain philosophers. For when they admonish man to know himself, they immediately direct him toward considering his own dignity and excellence. They set nothing before him except those things by which he may be raised up in vain confidence and swollen with pride.

The truth of God, however, commands us to seek something very different when we consider ourselves: namely, a knowledge that draws us far away from every presumption of our own strength, strips us of every ground of boasting, and brings us to humility. We must follow this rule if we wish to attain the goal of judging rightly and acting rightly.

I know how much more agreeable it is to man to be led to acknowledge his gifts and excellencies than to hear and behold his poverty, disgrace, shamefulness, and weakness. For there is nothing the human mind desires more than to be sweetened with pleasant

words and flatteries. Therefore, when a man hears his good qualities praised, he is only too inclined to believe everything spoken to his advantage.

It is no wonder, then, that the greater part of the world has gone astray in this matter. For since men possess a disordered and blind love of themselves, they willingly persuade themselves that there is nothing in them worthy of contempt. Thus, without needing any other advocate, everyone embraces this vain opinion: that man is sufficient of himself to live both well and happily.

If there are some who wish to think more modestly, although they grant something to God so that they may not appear to attribute everything to themselves, they nevertheless divide matters between God and themselves in such a way that the chief portion of strength, wisdom, and righteousness remains with them. Since man is already inclined by nature to flatter himself, there is nothing that can please him more than to be tickled with empty praises. Therefore, whoever has most highly exalted the excellence of human nature has always been the most warmly welcomed.

Nevertheless, such teaching, which instructs man to rest content in himself, does nothing but deceive him—and deceives him so thoroughly that whoever gives credence to it is ruined. For what profit is it to conceive an empty confidence, so that we deliberate, plan, attempt, and undertake what we think is good, while at the same time lacking both sound understanding and the power to accomplish it? To fail, I say, from the very beginning, and yet to persist with an obstinate heart until we are utterly confounded?

Nothing else can happen to those who trust that they can accomplish anything by their own power.

Therefore, if anyone listens to teachers of this sort, who occupy us with contemplating our own righteousness and strength, he will not advance in self-knowledge but will be blinded by the most destructive ignorance. Although the truth of God agrees with the common judgment of all men in this—that the second part of our wisdom consists in the knowledge of ourselves—there is nevertheless a great difference concerning the manner in which we are to know ourselves.

According to the judgment of the flesh, a man appears to know himself very well when, trusting in his own understanding and strength, he takes courage to apply himself to his duty and, renouncing every vice, strives to do what is good and honorable. But the man who examines himself properly according to the standard of God's judgment finds nothing that can lift up his heart with confidence. The more deeply he examines himself, the more he is cast down, until, altogether emptied of every hope in himself, he leaves himself nothing by which he might rightly order his life.

Nevertheless, we do not deny that there remains some seed of nobility in our nature which ought to incite us to pursue righteousness and integrity. For we cannot consider either our original condition or the end for which we were created without that thought serving as a spur to stir and urge us to meditate upon the immortality of God's kingdom. But so far is this recognition from giving us reason to lift up our hearts that it ought rather to bring us to humility and modesty.

For what is that original condition? It is the one from which we have fallen. What is the end for which we were created? It is the one from which we have completely turned aside. Thus nothing remains for us except that, after considering our miserable condition, we should groan and, in groaning, long after our lost dignity.

Now when we say that man must not look upon anything in himself that would lift up his heart, we mean that there is nothing in him on account of which he ought to become proud. Therefore, if it seems good, let us divide the knowledge that man ought to possess of himself in this way.

First, he must consider the end for which he was created and the extraordinary gifts with which God endowed him, so that by this consideration he may be stirred to meditate upon the life to come and to desire to serve God.

Second, he must assess his riches—or rather, his poverty. Once he has recognized it, he must be cast down into utter confusion, as though reduced to nothing. The first consideration is intended to teach him what his duty and calling are; the second, to teach him how capable he is of performing what he ought to do. We shall treat both matters in their proper places as the order of the discussion requires.

Before entering upon a description of this miserable condition of man, however, it is necessary to know what he was when first created. For when we point out these natural vices in man, there is a danger that we may seem to attribute them to the author of nature, who is God. Impiety imagines that it has a sufficient defense under this pretext if it can claim that every vice it possesses proceeded from

God. And when it is reproved, it does not hesitate to contend with God and transfer to him all the blame of which it stands accused.

Even those who profess to speak more soberly concerning God willingly seize upon the opportunity to excuse their vices by blaming nature, never considering that in doing so they dishonor God— although less openly—since, if there were any defect in our nature as it was formed by him, some portion of the reproach would fall upon him. Since, therefore, we see that the flesh seeks every possible escape by which it thinks the guilt of its vices may be transferred elsewhere, we must counteract this malice.

The calamity of the human race must therefore be treated in such a way that we cut off every evasion of our flesh and vindicate the righteousness of the Lord, not merely from accusation but also from every reproach and complaint. Yet this must be done without departing from the pure truth. So far is that truth from lending support to such absurdities that, as soon as it is rightly understood, it is sufficient to refute them.

It is certain that Adam, the father of us all, was created in the image and likeness of God. This shows that he was made a partaker of divine wisdom, righteousness, power, holiness, and truth. For we cannot possibly maintain the error of those who place this image of God in the dominion and preeminence granted to man over the animals—as though he had been made like God merely because he had been appointed their lord. The declaration that man was created in the image of God would not be repeated so often by Moses if it carried no greater significance.

Indeed, Saint Paul removes every difficulty concerning this question when he speaks in this manner:

"Be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new man, who is created according to God in righteousness and true holiness." —Ephesians 4

And again:

"Do not lie to one another, since you have put off the old man with all his deeds and have put on the new man, who has been renewed in knowledge according to the image of him who created him." —Colossians 3

We see how Paul explains the image of God: it is the conformity of our spirit to the Lord when, having been cleansed from every earthly defilement, it desires nothing but spiritual purity.

Man, therefore, having been created in the image of God, was endowed with gifts and excellencies that testified to the extraordinary generosity of his Creator toward him. For he adhered to God through participation in every good and would have lived forever had he persevered in the integrity he had received.

But he did not remain in that condition long. For by his ingratitude he quickly rendered himself unworthy of all the benefits God had bestowed upon him. Thus the heavenly image he bore was effaced; for being alienated from God by sin, he was likewise estranged from participation in every good, since such blessings can be possessed

only in him. Therefore, in place of the wisdom, power, holiness, truth, and righteousness with which he had been adorned in the likeness of God, there came dreadful plagues: ignorance, weakness, impurity, vanity, and unrighteousness. He was not only enveloped in these evils personally but also entangled all his posterity in them. For all his descendants resemble him, from whom they derive their origin, and are born defiled with his pollution.

This is the hereditary corruption that the ancient fathers called original sin, using the word sin to denote the depravity of our nature, which had formerly been good and pure. Concerning this matter they engaged in great controversy with the Pelagians. For when these heretics were convicted by the clear testimonies of Scripture that sin had descended from the first man to all his posterity, they quibbled that it had descended by imitation and not by generation.

Therefore, these holy men labored to demonstrate that we are not corrupted by an evil acquired from the example of others but that we bring our perversity with us from our mother's womb. This cannot be denied without extraordinary shamelessness. Yet no one acquainted with the writings of Saint Augustine—who has seen what sort of senseless brutes the Pelagians were and how little shame they possessed—will be surprised at their audacity in this matter.

What David confesses is undoubtedly true: that he was brought forth in iniquity and conceived by his mother in sin. —Psalm 51

He is not accusing his parents of wrongdoing. Rather, to magnify more fully the goodness of God toward him, he recalls the perversity that was his from his very birth. Since this was not peculiar to David,

it follows that the universal condition of all mankind is represented by his example. All of us, therefore, who are produced from an unclean seed, are born defiled with the infection of sin; indeed, even before we come forth into the light, we are polluted before the face of God. For "who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" as it is said in the book of Job. —Job 14

We must hold it as settled, then, that Adam was not merely the father of human nature but also, as it were, its stock or root; and therefore, through his corruption, the human race was rightly corrupted. The apostle demonstrates this more clearly by comparing Adam with Christ:

"Just as sin entered the whole world through one man, and death through sin—and death spread to all men, because all sinned—so likewise through the grace of Christ righteousness and life are restored to us." —Romans 5

What will the Pelagians prattle here—that sin was spread throughout the world merely by imitating Adam? Do we therefore receive no other benefit from the grace of Christ than that it is set before us as an example to imitate? Who could endure such blasphemy?

But since there is no doubt that the grace of Christ becomes ours by communication and that through it we possess life, it likewise follows that both righteousness and life were lost in Adam just as we recover them in Christ, and that sin and death were engendered in us through Adam just as they are abolished through Christ.

Nor, in order to understand this, is there any need to involve ourselves in that troublesome dispute which greatly tormented the ancient teachers: namely, whether the soul of the child proceeds from the substance of the father's soul, since original sin resides in the soul. We ought to be content to know that the Lord had placed in Adam the graces and gifts he intended to confer upon human nature. Therefore, when Adam lost them, he lost them not only for himself but for us all.

Who will concern himself with the origin of the soul after understanding that Adam had received the endowments he lost not for himself alone but also for us, since God had not bestowed them upon him merely as one individual man but so that his whole posterity might enjoy them together with him? There is therefore nothing absurd in saying that, when Adam was stripped of them, human nature was deprived of them; or that, when he was defiled by sin, the infection spread to us all.

For just as nothing but rotten shoots proceed from a rotten root, carrying their rottenness into every branch and leaf they produce, so Adam's children were polluted in their father and in turn became the source of pollution to their descendants. That is to say, the beginning of corruption was so rooted in Adam that it has flowed down, as by a perpetual current, from parents to children.

It is easy to refute the Pelagians' objection. They say it is unreasonable that children born to believing parents should derive corruption from them, since they ought rather to be purified by their parents' purity. To this we answer that children do not descend from

the spiritual regeneration that God's servants possess through the Holy Spirit, but from the carnal generation they possess from Adam.

It is indeed true that God sanctifies the children of believers on account of their parents, but this does not occur by virtue of their nature; it proceeds from his grace. It is therefore a spiritual blessing that does not prevent that original curse from remaining universally present in human nature.

Now, so that this may not be spoken rashly, we must define original sin. Yet it is not my intention to examine all the definitions given by those who have written concerning it. I shall merely offer one that seems to me consistent with the truth.

We shall say, then, that original sin is a hereditary corruption and perversity of our nature which, first, renders us guilty of the wrath of God and, afterward, produces in us the deeds that Scripture calls "works of the flesh." It is properly what Saint Paul frequently calls simply sin, without adding the word original. The deeds that proceed from it—such as adulteries, fornications, thefts, hatreds, murders, and gluttonies—he accordingly calls the fruits of sin, although all such deeds are themselves also called sins in Scripture.

We must therefore consider two things distinctly. First, we are so corrupted in every part of our nature that, on account of this corruption, we are justly condemnable before God, to whom nothing is pleasing except righteousness, innocence, and purity. Nor should it be said that this guilt arises solely from another person's fault, as though we answered for the sin of our first father while having personally deserved no punishment.

For when it is said that through Adam we have become liable to the judgment of God, this does not mean that we ourselves are innocent and, without having deserved any punishment, merely bear the consequences of his sin. Rather, because through his transgression we have all been enveloped in ruin, he is said to have brought us all under guilt. Yet we must not understand that he merely made us liable to punishment without communicating his sin to us. For the sin descended from him truly resides in us, and punishment is justly due to it.

Therefore Saint Augustine, although he sometimes calls it the sin of another in order to show more clearly that we possess it by descent, nevertheless affirms that it is the particular sin of every one of us. The apostle himself testifies that death came upon all men because all have sinned—that is, because all are enveloped in original sin and defiled by its stains.

For this reason even infants are included within this condemnation— not simply on account of another's sin but on account of their own. For although they have not yet produced the fruits of their iniquity, they nevertheless possess its seed hidden within them. Indeed, their very nature is a seedbed of sin; therefore it cannot be anything but displeasing and abominable to God.

The second point we must consider is that this perversity is never idle within us but continually produces new fruits—namely, those works of the flesh we have just described—just as a burning furnace continually throws forth flames and sparks, and a spring pours forth its water.

Therefore, those who have defined original sin as the absence of original righteousness have, in those words, comprehended its whole substance; yet they have not sufficiently expressed its active power. For our nature is not merely empty and destitute of every good; it is so fertile in every kind of evil that it cannot remain idle.

Those who have called it concupiscence have not used an altogether unsuitable word, provided there is added what many will not concede: that every part of man, from the understanding to the will and from the soul even to the flesh, is defiled and altogether filled with this concupiscence—or, to state it more briefly, that man of himself is nothing but corruption.

Let those who dare attribute the cause of their sin to God now consider this, since men are said to be naturally sinful. They perversely contemplate God's workmanship in its present pollution, whereas they ought instead to seek and contemplate it in the nature Adam received before he was corrupted. Our perdition therefore proceeds from the fault of our flesh and not from God, since we perished for no other reason than that we fell away from our original creation.

Nor should anyone object here that God could have provided better for our salvation if he had prevented Adam's fall. For this objection is so audacious and presumptuous that it ought never to enter the mind of a believer. Moreover, it pertains to the predestination of God, which will be treated afterward in its proper place.

Let us therefore remember always to attribute our ruin to the corruption of our nature and not to that nature which was originally given to man, lest we accuse God as though our evil came from him.

It is true that this mortal wound of sin is lodged in our nature, but there is a great difference between saying that our nature was wounded from its beginning and saying that it was wounded afterward by something coming from elsewhere. It is certain that it was wounded by sin, which entered afterward. We therefore have no one but ourselves of whom to complain.

Scripture carefully draws attention to this. For Ecclesiastes says:

"I know that God created man upright, but he has devised many wicked inventions."

From this it is evident that man alone must be blamed for his ruin, since by God's grace he had received a natural uprightness but through his own folly fell into vanity.

We say that man is naturally corrupted by perversity, but that this perversity is not an original part of his nature. We deny that it belongs to his nature in order to show that it is rather an added quality that came upon man, not an essential property of his substance that had been rooted in him from the beginning. Nevertheless, we call it natural so that no one may imagine that each person acquires it through evil habit and example, since it envelops us all from our first birth.

Nor do we speak this way without authority. For the same reason, the apostle calls us all by nature children of God's wrath. How could God be angry with the noblest of his creatures, seeing that even the lesser works he has made are pleasing to him? The answer is that he is angry with the corruption of his work rather than with the work itself.

Therefore, if man is not without cause said to be naturally abominable to God, we may rightly say that he is naturally vicious and evil. Saint Augustine does not hesitate, on account of our corrupted nature, to call those sins natural which necessarily reign in our flesh whenever the grace of God is absent from us.

↑ Back to top

↑