CHAPTER ONE: The Knowledge of God (part 1 of 2)
CHAPTER ONE
The Knowledge of God
Nearly the whole sum of our wisdom—wisdom that deserves to be called true and certain—consists in two parts: the knowledge of God and the knowledge of ourselves.
The first must show us not only that there is one God whom all ought to worship and honor, but also that he is the fountain of all truth, wisdom, goodness, righteousness, judgment, mercy, power, and holiness. Thus we learn to expect and seek all these things from him and, moreover, to acknowledge with praise and thanksgiving that they proceed from him.
The second, by showing us our weakness, misery, vanity, and vileness, leads us to self-abasement, distrust of ourselves, and hatred of ourselves. It then kindles within us a desire to seek God, since in him rests all our good, of which we find ourselves empty and destitute.
Now it is not easy to discern which of these two kinds of knowledge precedes and produces the other. For since a whole world of misery is found in man, we cannot rightly look upon ourselves without being touched and pierced by the knowledge of our wretchedness, and then immediately lifting our eyes to God and arriving at least at some knowledge of him.
Thus, through the awareness of our littleness, ignorance, vanity, and even our perversity and corruption, we recognize that true greatness, wisdom, truth, righteousness, and purity reside in God.
Finally, our miseries move us to consider the blessings of the Lord; nor can we earnestly aspire to him until we have begun to be altogether displeased with ourselves. For who among men would not willingly rest content in himself? Indeed, who does not rest content in himself so long as, through ignorance of himself, he remains satisfied with his own abilities and does not perceive his misery?
Therefore, each one of us is not only incited to seek God through the knowledge of himself, but is also guided and, as it were, led by the hand to find him.
On the other hand, it is evident that man never attains a clear knowledge of himself unless he has first contemplated the face of the Lord and, after considering him, descends to examine himself. For this arrogance is rooted in us all: it always seems to us that we are righteous, truthful, wise, and holy, unless we are convicted by unmistakable evidence of unrighteousness, falsehood, folly, and impurity.
But we are not thus convicted if we look only at ourselves and do not also look to the Lord, who is the only standard to which this judgment must be conformed. Because we are all naturally inclined to hypocrisy, an empty appearance of righteousness amply satisfies us in place of the reality. And because there is nothing around us that is not greatly defiled, whatever is somewhat less polluted is accepted by us as perfectly pure, so long as we confine our minds within the bounds of our humanity, which is altogether corrupted.
It is just as an eye that sees nothing but objects of a black color judges that which possesses only a dim whiteness—or is even half gray—to be the whitest thing in the world.
Another comparison drawn from bodily sight will show even more clearly how greatly we deceive ourselves in judging the virtues of the soul. For if in broad daylight we look down toward the earth, or contemplate the things surrounding us, it certainly seems to us that our sight is exceptionally strong and clear. But when we raise our eyes directly toward the sun, the power that appeared so strong when directed toward the earth is confused and dazzled by so great a light. We are therefore compelled to confess that the keen sight by which we examine earthly things is exceedingly weak and feeble when directed toward the sun.
The same thing happens when we assess our spiritual abilities. So long as our contemplation does not rise above the earth, we remain thoroughly satisfied with our own righteousness, wisdom, and virtue. We flatter and applaud ourselves and come very near to regarding ourselves as demigods.
But once we direct our thoughts toward the Lord and recognize the perfection of his righteousness, wisdom, and power—the standard by which we must be measured—then what formerly pleased us under the appearance of righteousness will be seen to be defiled with the greatest unrighteousness; what wonderfully deceived us under the guise of wisdom will reveal itself as utter folly; and what bore the appearance of power will prove to be miserable weakness. So far is even that which appears most perfect in us from corresponding to the purity that is in God.
From this arises the horror and astonishment by which Scripture often tells us the faithful were overcome whenever they perceived the presence of God. For when we see that those who, while the Lord seemed absent, stood firm and secure are shaken and terrified as soon as he manifests his glory to them—so terrified as to be almost swallowed up by the horror of death and nearly reduced to nothing—we may understand from this that man is never sufficiently affected by the knowledge of his weakness until he has compared himself with the majesty of God.
We have numerous examples of this terror among both the judges and the prophets. Indeed, this saying was common among the people of God: “We shall die, for the Lord has appeared to us.” —Judges 13; Judges 6; Ezekiel 1.
Accordingly, when the book of Job seeks to humble men through the knowledge of their folly, weakness, and corruption, it continually draws its principal argument from the description of God’s wisdom, power, and purity—and not without reason.
For we see how Abraham more fully acknowledges himself to be dust and ashes the nearer he comes to beholding the glory of the Lord. —Genesis 18.
We see how Elijah cannot endure God’s presence with uncovered face, so great is his fear of looking upon him. —1 Kings 19.
And what, then, shall man do—man who is nothing but corruption and a worm—when—even the cherubim must cover their faces out of great fear and reverence?
This is what the prophet Isaiah means when he says that the sun will be ashamed and the moon confounded when the Lord of hosts reigns. That is, when he exalts and displays his brightness, whatever otherwise shines most brilliantly will be darkened in comparison with it. —Isaiah 24.
Nevertheless, although the knowledge of God and the knowledge of ourselves are mutually connected, proper order requires that we treat the knowledge of God first and afterward descend to the other.
We hold it beyond doubt that, by a natural inclination, there exists in the human mind some awareness of the divine, so that no one may take refuge in a plea of ignorance. The Lord has imparted to everyone some apprehension of his majesty, so that all men, knowing that there is a God and that he is their Creator, may be condemned by their own testimony for having failed to honor him and dedicate their lives to doing his will.
Certainly, if anywhere among men we were to look for such ignorance that God remained altogether unknown, it would seem most likely to be found among the crudest peoples, those most remote from civilization and humanity. Yet, as even the pagans acknowledge, there is no nation so barbarous and no people so savage that it does not possess this impression within the heart: that there is some God.
Even those who in other areas of life appear scarcely to differ from brute beasts nevertheless always retain some seed of religion. So deeply has this universal conviction taken root in every mind and become fixed in every heart.
Therefore, since from the beginning of the world there has been no region, city, or even household able to exist without religion, we have in this a kind of tacit confession that an awareness of the divine is engraved upon the hearts of all men.
Indeed, idolatry itself supplies us with abundant proof of this conviction. For we know how unwilling man is to humble himself and to honor other creatures above himself. Since, then, he would rather worship wood and stone than be thought to have no God, it is evident how powerful this impression of the divine majesty must be. It cannot be erased from the human mind; indeed, it is easier for man’s natural disposition to be broken—as it certainly is when man descends from his pride and presumption and voluntarily humbles himself beneath the vilest creatures of the earth in order to show reverence toward God.
It is therefore a false opinion, maintained by some, that religion was originally invented through the craft and cunning of a few men as a means of keeping the simple common people restrained and obedient—as though those who induced others to worship God possessed no conception of the divine themselves.
I readily confess that certain shrewd and deceitful men among the pagans fabricated many things in religion to inspire fear and breed superstitious scruples in the common people, so that they might make them more obedient and easier to command. But they could never have accomplished this unless men’s minds had already been settled in the firm conviction that there was a God. From that source arose their entire inclination to believe what was said concerning him.
Nor should we suppose that those who, under the pretense of religion, deceived the simple were themselves altogether empty and destitute of the conviction that there is a God. For although there were some in ancient times—and are many today—who deny every deity, nevertheless, whether they wish it or not, they continually feel what they desire not to know.
We read of no one who ever abandoned himself to a more audacious or outrageous contempt of God than the Roman emperor Gaius Caligula. Yet no one ever trembled more miserably whenever any sign of God’s wrath appeared. Thus, in spite of himself, he dreaded the God whom he deliberately endeavored to despise.
You will commonly see the same thing happen to those like him. For the more audaciously anyone despises God, the more easily he is terrified by the sound of a leaf falling from a tree. From where does this arise, except that God’s majesty takes vengeance upon them by terrifying their consciences all the more as they strive to flee from it?
They search for every possible hiding place in which to withdraw from God’s presence and attempt to erase the remembrance of it from their minds. But whether they wish it or not, they remain tightly confined by it. Although at times it may appear to vanish briefly, it always returns and presses them anew more forcefully than before.
Thus, if they experience any relief from the anguish of conscience, it differs little from the sleep of drunkards or madmen, who do not rest peacefully even while asleep because they are continually disturbed by terrifying visions and dreams.
Therefore, even the most wicked furnish us with an example that the knowledge of God universally retains some power within the hearts of all men.
We have already stated that the knowledge of God ought to produce this effect in us: to plant in our hearts some seed of religion. First, it should instruct us in the fear and reverence of God; afterward, it should teach us that every good must be sought in him and that all gratitude for it is owed to him.
For how can any thought of God enter your mind without your immediately considering that, since you are his workmanship, by right of creation you are subject and submitted to his dominion; that your life ought to be devoted to his service; and that everything you purpose, say, and do ought to be directed toward him?
If this is so, it clearly follows that your life is corruptly ordered unless it is regulated in obedience to his holy will.
On the other hand, you cannot clearly comprehend him unless you acknowledge that he is the fountain and source of every good. From this consideration would arise a desire to be united with him and a confidence in his goodness, were it not that the human understanding, through its perversity, is drawn away from the proper pursuit of him.
But in both respects a marvelous vanity and foolishness appear in us all. For although our entire life ought to be governed by perpetual obedience toward him, we resist him in almost all our works and then seek to appease him with a few petty satisfactions. Although we ought to please him through holiness and innocence of heart, we fabricate all manner of worthless trifles and ceremonies, hoping to amuse him with them.
Moreover, although our confidence ought to be fixed entirely upon him, it rests instead upon ourselves or upon other creatures.
Finally, we are enveloped in so many errors and wicked opinions that the spark of truth which gave us light to contemplate the majesty of God is so covered and extinguished that it does not lead us to a right knowledge of him.
Only the original seed remains, which can never be entirely uprooted: namely, the recognition that there is some divine being. Yet even this seed is so corrupted that it produces only the worst fruit.
Men sin principally in two ways in this matter.
The first is that poor men, in seeking the truth of God, do not rise above their own nature as they ought, but measure his greatness according to the dullness of their senses. They do not comprehend him as he presents himself to be known, but imagine him as they have fashioned him in their presumption.
By doing this, they open a bottomless pit. Once it has been opened, no matter which way they turn, they must always stumble into condemnation. For whatever they afterward endeavor to do in order to serve God cannot be credited to him, because it is not God whom they honor, but the imagination of their own heart in his place.
Thus the empty excuse many customarily offer to defend their superstition is overthrown. They suppose that every religious affection, whatever its character—even when disordered—is sufficient. But they fail to consider that true religion must be conformed to God’s will as its perpetual rule. They also fail to consider that God always remains like himself and is not a phantom who changes according to each person’s desire.
Indeed, one may see by how many empty delusions superstition makes sport of God when it attempts to please him. For while embracing almost exclusively those things about which he testifies that he has no concern whatever, it neglects the things he has ordained and declared acceptable to him—or even openly rejects them.
Therefore, all who devise religions in their own minds with which to honor God worship nothing but their own fantasies. They would never dare to trifle with God in this way unless they had first fashioned him according to their own imaginations.
For this reason, the apostle teaches that such an uncertain and disordered conception of God is ignorance of God. “When you did not know God,” he says, “you served those who by nature are not gods.” —Galatians 4:8.
In another passage he says that the Ephesians were without God when they were estranged from the right knowledge of him. —Ephesians 2:12.
In this respect, it makes little difference whether one imagines one god or many, since in either case the true God is forsaken and abandoned. Once he is forsaken, nothing remains but abominable idolatry.
We must therefore conclude with Lactantius that no religion is lawful unless it is joined with truth.
The second fault men commit is that they are forcibly drawn, against their will, to give some consideration to God. They are not moved by a fear arising from reverence for his majesty, but only by dread of his judgment—whose judgment they dread because they cannot escape it, while at the same time they abhor him.
What a pagan poet said properly applies to impiety, and to impiety alone: namely, that fear first introduced reverence for God into the world.
Certainly, all whose hearts are estranged from the righteousness of God would gladly wish his throne—which they know has been established to punish every transgression against that righteousness —to be overthrown. By this desire they wage war against God, who cannot exist apart from his judgment. But knowing that his power over them is inescapable, since they can neither drive it away nor avoid it, they fear it.
Therefore, lest they appear altogether contemptuous of his majesty, they perform some outward form of religion, whatever it may be. Meanwhile, however, they do not cease defiling themselves with every kind of vice and heaping sin upon sin, until they have entirely violated the Lord’s holy law and overthrown all his righteousness.
At the very least, they are not so restrained by this feigned fear that they do not rest content in their sin and flatter themselves, preferring to loosen the reins upon the intemperance of their flesh rather than submit it to the government of the Holy Spirit.
But since all this is only an empty shadow of religion—indeed, scarcely worthy of being called even a shadow—we must briefly explain that special knowledge of God which is implanted only in the hearts of believers, together with the disposition of piety that follows from it.
First, the believing heart does not fashion for itself some god at random. It looks to him who is the one and only true God. Nor does it attribute to him whatever it pleases, but is content to receive him as he reveals himself, always taking diligent care not to depart from his will through presumptuous boldness.
Having thus known him, and understanding that by his providence he governs all things, the believer trusts him as guardian and protector and therefore commits himself to his keeping.
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.
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.