Part 5
Let them therefore cease measuring our powers by the commandments of God, as though God had adjusted the rule of righteousness he intended to give according to our weakness and smallness. Rather, through the promises let us consider how poorly equipped we are, since in everything and everywhere we have such great need of his grace.
"But who," they ask, "can be persuaded that God addressed his law to logs or stones?"
I answer that no one seeks to persuade them of this. For the wicked are not logs or stones when, being taught by the law that their sinful desires oppose God, they are rendered guilty by the testimony of their own consciences. Nor are believers logs or stones when, being warned of their weakness, they take refuge in the grace of God.
To this purpose belong the following statements of Saint Augustine:
"God commands what we cannot perform so that we may know what we ought to ask from him."
Again:
"The usefulness of the commandments is great if free will is so understood that the grace of God is thereby honored all the more."
Again:
"Faith obtains what the law commands."
Indeed, God requires faith from us, yet he does not find what he requires unless he has placed it within us so that he may find it there.
Again:
"Give what you command, and command whatever you will."
This will appear more clearly if we consider the three kinds of commandments of which we have spoken.
The Lord often requires, both in the Law and in the Prophets, that men should turn to him. Yet the Prophet answers from another direction:
"Turn me, O Lord, and I shall be turned. After you had turned me, I repented," etc. —Jeremiah 31
He also commands us to circumcise our hearts; yet through Moses he declares that this circumcision is performed by his own hand. He repeatedly requires a new heart from men; yet he testifies that he alone renews it.
What, then, will those say who allege God's commandments in order to exalt man's power and diminish the grace of God, by which alone, as we see, those commandments are fulfilled?
The second kind of commandment we have mentioned is straightforward: to honor God, to serve him and cleave to his will, to observe his commandments, and to follow his teaching. Yet there are countless testimonies declaring that whatever righteousness, holiness, piety, and purity we possess is a free gift proceeding from him.
As for the third kind, we have an example in the exhortation of Saint Paul and Barnabas to the believers that they should persevere in the grace of God. But elsewhere Saint Paul shows where the power to do so comes from:
"Be strong, my brethren, in the power of the Lord." —Ephesians 6
Elsewhere he forbids us to grieve the Spirit of God, by whom we have been sealed as we await our redemption. But what he commands there, he elsewhere asks of the Lord in prayer, because it does not lie within human ability. He prays that the Lord would make the Thessalonians worthy of his calling, fulfill in them what he had purposed according to his goodness, and bring the work of faith to completion.
The more subtle and malicious among them quibble over these testimonies, claiming that none of this prevents us from joining our powers to God's grace, so that he merely assists our weakness. They produce certain passages from the Prophets in which God appears to divide the power of our conversion between himself and us, such as this:
"Turn to me, and I will turn to you."
We have already shown what assistance we receive from God, and there is no need to repeat it here, since our present purpose is merely to show that our opponents vainly ascribe to man the ability to fulfill the law simply because God commands us to obey it. For it is evident that God's grace is necessary to fulfill what he commands, and that it is promised to us for this very purpose.
As for the last statement, "Turn to me, and I will turn to you," it does nothing to confirm their error. For by God's turning we must not understand the grace by which he renews our hearts to holiness of life, but that by which he testifies his goodwill and love toward us by
causing us to prosper—just as he is said to withdraw from us when he afflicts us.
Because the people of Israel, after having long endured misery and calamity, complained that God had turned away from them, he answered that his kindness would not fail them if they returned to uprightness of life and to him, who is the rule of all righteousness.
It is therefore a corruption of this passage to interpret it as though it divided the effectual power of our conversion between God and ourselves. We have treated this question briefly because it will have to be discussed again in the treatment of the Law.
The second class of their arguments does not differ greatly from the first. They allege the promises in which God appears to make a covenant with our will, such as the following:
"Seek righteousness and not wickedness, and you shall live." —Amos 5
Again:
"If you are willing to obey me, I will give you an abundance of good things. But if you refuse, I will cause you to perish by the sword." —Isaiah 1
Again:
"If you remove the abominations from before my face, you shall not be driven away."
—Jeremiah 4
Again:
"If you obey the voice of the Lord your God, observing and performing all his commandments, he will make you the most excellent people upon the earth." —Deuteronomy 28
And there are other similar passages. They therefore suppose that God would be mocking us by making these things depend upon our will if they were not entirely within our power.
Indeed, from a human perspective, this argument appears very plausible. For it might be argued that God would be cruel to suggest that nothing prevents us from enjoying his favor and receiving every good thing from him, while in fact we possess no power to do so. It might also appear ridiculous for him to offer his blessings in such a manner that we could never enjoy them. In short, one might claim that God's promises possess no certainty if their fulfillment depends upon an impossibility.
We shall speak elsewhere of those promises to which an impossible condition is attached, and it will then appear that, although their fulfillment is impossible for us, there is nevertheless no absurdity in them.
As for the present question, I deny that the Lord is cruel or inhumane toward us when he exhorts us to obtain his graces and blessings, although he knows that we are powerless to do so. For
since these promises are offered both to believers and to the wicked, they serve a useful purpose for each.
Through his commandments the Lord pricks and awakens the consciences of the wicked, so that they may not carelessly flatter themselves in their sins, disregarding his judgment. In the same way, through his promises he makes them witnesses against themselves, showing how unworthy they are of his kindness. Who will deny that it is fitting for God to bless those who honor him and severely punish those who despise his majesty?
The Lord therefore acts justly when he presents this condition to the wicked, who are held captive under the yoke of sin: that if they turn away from their evil way of life, he will bestow every good thing upon them. Even if there were no other reason, this alone would suffice— that they might understand that they are justly excluded from the blessings belonging to God's servants.
On the other hand, since God intends by every means to stir up his faithful people to implore his grace, it should not seem strange that he does through his promises what, as we have recently shown, he also does through his commandments.
When he teaches us his will through his commandments, he warns us of our misery by showing how greatly we resist that will. At the same time, he urges us to call upon his Spirit so that we may be directed in the right way. But because our sluggishness is not sufficiently aroused by the commandments, he adds his promises, by whose sweetness he leads us to love what he commands. And the more we love righteousness, the more fervently we seek the grace of God.
Thus, in the declarations we have cited, God does not attribute to us the ability to perform what he commands. Yet neither does he mock our weakness, since by these means he both promotes the good of his servants and renders the wicked inexcusable.
The third class of arguments has some affinity with those preceding it. For they produce passages in which God reproaches the people of Israel, declaring that it was owing to them alone that they did not remain in a prosperous condition. For example:
"The Amalekites and the Canaanites are before you, and you shall perish by their sword, because you were unwilling to obey the Lord."
Again:
"Because I called you and you did not answer, I will destroy you as I destroyed Shiloh."
Again:
"This people did not listen to the voice of their God or receive his instruction; therefore, they have been rejected."
Again:
"Because you hardened your hearts and refused to obey the Lord, all these evils have come upon you."
"How," they ask, "could such reproaches properly be addressed to people who could immediately answer: 'We desired nothing more than to prosper, and we feared calamity. The reason we did not obey
the Lord or listen to his voice so that we might avoid evil and enjoy a better condition was that we were not free to do so, being held captive by sin. God therefore unjustly reproaches us for the evils we suffer, since it was not within our power to avoid them'?"
In reply, leaving aside this excuse of necessity, which is frivolous and of no force, I ask whether they can deny that they are at fault. For if they are convicted of wrongdoing, God does not say without cause that their perversity prevented him from preserving them in prosperity.
Let them answer, then, whether they can deny that their perverse will was the cause of their obstinacy. If they find the source of evil within themselves, why do they seek its cause elsewhere, attempting to persuade themselves that they are not the authors of their own ruin?
If it is true, therefore, that sinners through their own vice are deprived of God's blessings and receive punishment from his hand, these reproaches are justly directed against them. If they persist in evil, they should learn to accuse their own iniquity as the cause of their misery rather than condemn God as excessively severe. But if they are not altogether hardened and are still capable of being taught, let them conceive sorrow and hatred for the sins by which they have made themselves miserable. In this way they may return to the right path and confess the truth of what God declares when he reproves them.
The prayer of Daniel shows that such reproofs have served this purpose among believers. As for the first use, we see an example in the Jews, to whom Jeremiah, at God's command, declared the cause
of their miseries, although nothing could occur except what God had foretold:
"You shall speak my word to them, but they will not listen; you shall call them, but they will not answer."
"But what purpose is there," someone will ask, "in speaking to the deaf?"
It is so that, despite themselves, they may understand that what is said to them is true: namely, that it is an abominable sacrilege to attribute to God the cause of their calamities when that cause resides within themselves.
By these three answers, anyone may easily dispose of the countless testimonies gathered by the enemies of God's grace—from the commandments, the promises of the law, and the reproaches God directs against sinners—in their attempt to establish in man a free will that cannot be found there.
They nevertheless allege a testimony from the Law of Moses that appears strongly to contradict our answer. For after publishing the law, Moses made this declaration before the people:
"The commandment that I give you today is not hidden from you, nor is it far away or exalted above heaven; but it is near you, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may perform it." —Deuteronomy 30
If this were spoken merely of the commandments, I confess that we would have great difficulty answering it. For although one might say that Moses is speaking of the ease with which the commandments may be understood, rather than performed, some uncertainty would still remain.
But we have an able interpreter who removes every doubt: Saint Paul, who affirms that Moses is speaking here of the doctrine of the gospel. If some obstinate person were to reply that Saint Paul diverted this passage from its natural meaning in order to apply it to the gospel—although such a wicked statement ought not to be tolerated—we nevertheless have sufficient grounds to defend the Apostle's interpretation.
For if Moses were speaking only of the commandments, he would have deceived the people with a false confidence. What could they have done but ruin themselves if they had attempted to observe the law by their own power, as though it were easy? Where is this supposed ease to be found, since our nature fails at this very point, and no one attempts to walk without stumbling?
It is therefore perfectly certain that by these words Moses included the covenant of mercy, which he had proclaimed together with the law. Saint Paul, considering that salvation is offered to us in the gospel—not under the law's harsh, difficult, and altogether impossible condition, but under a condition that is easy and accessible—applies this testimony to confirm how freely the mercy of God is offered to us. This passage therefore contributes nothing toward establishing freedom in the human will.
They commonly object certain other passages in which God is said sometimes to withdraw his grace from men in order to observe which way they will turn. For example, it is said in Hosea:
"I will withdraw and remain apart until they resolve in their hearts to follow me." —Hosea 5
"It would be ridiculous," they say, "for the Lord to observe whether men will follow his way unless their hearts possessed the power to incline in either direction by their own strength."
As though it were not customary for God to declare through his prophets that he will reject and abandon his people until they repent! But let us consider what they wish to infer from this. If they mean that a people abandoned by God can turn to him by their own power, all Scripture contradicts them. If they acknowledge that God's grace is necessary for man's conversion, these passages do nothing to support their argument against us.
They will say, however, that they acknowledge grace to be necessary in such a way that human power still contributes something. But how do they prove this? Certainly not from this passage or any similar one. For these are two entirely different things: to withdraw from a man in order to observe what he will do when abandoned, and to assist his weakness by strengthening his feeble powers.
But they will ask, "What, then, do such expressions mean?" I answer that they amount to this, as though God were saying:
"Since I accomplish nothing with this rebellious people by warnings, exhortations, or reproofs, I will withdraw for a time. I will remain silent and permit them to be afflicted. Then I shall see whether, after prolonged calamity, they will remember me and seek me."
When God is said to withdraw, it means that he withdraws his word. When he is said to observe what men will do in his absence, it means that, without manifesting himself to them, he afflicts them for a time. He does both to humble us more deeply. For his chastisements and punishments would destroy us a hundred thousand times before they corrected us, unless he made us teachable by his Spirit.
It is therefore wrongly inferred that man possesses some power to turn to God merely because God, offended by our hardness and obstinacy, is said to withdraw from us his word, through which he communicates his presence, and to observe what we can do by ourselves. He does all this only to make us understand that of ourselves we are nothing and can do nothing.
They also draw an argument from a common manner of speaking used not only by men but by Scripture itself: good works are called ours, and we are said to do good just as we are said to do evil. If sins are rightly imputed to us as proceeding from us, they argue, then by the same reasoning good works must also be attributed to us. For it would be unreasonable to say that we perform those things to which God moves us like stones, since we cannot perform them by our own impulse. They therefore conclude that, although God's grace possesses the principal power, such expressions nevertheless indicate that we possess some natural ability to do good.
If their only objection were that good works are called ours, I would answer that we also call our daily bread "ours," although we ask God to give it to us. What, then, can be inferred from this word except that what was in no way owed to us becomes ours through God's infinite kindness? They must therefore either find fault with our Lord for speaking in this manner, or cease regarding it as strange that good works should be called ours when everything we possess in them comes from God's generosity.
Their second objection is somewhat stronger. Scripture frequently affirms that believers serve God, maintain his righteousness, obey his law, and devote themselves to doing good. Since these are the proper acts of the human understanding and will, how could they be attributed both to the Spirit of God and to us unless our power were in some way joined with God's grace?
We shall easily disentangle ourselves from all these arguments if we properly consider the manner in which God works in his servants. First, the comparison by which they seek to burden us is inappropriate. Who is so unreasonable as to imagine that man is moved by God in the same way that we throw a stone? Certainly, nothing of the kind follows from our doctrine.
We say that man naturally possesses the faculties of approving and rejecting, willing and refusing, striving and resisting. Yet he uses them to approve vanity and reject the true good; to will evil and refuse good; to strive after sin and resist righteousness.
What, then, does the Lord do? If he chooses to employ man's perversity as an instrument of his wrath, he turns and directs it wherever he pleases, so that through an evil hand he may accomplish
his own righteous and good works. When, therefore, we see a wicked man serving God in this manner while seeking only to gratify his own wickedness, shall we compare him to a stone driven by some external force without any motion, perception, or will of its own? We plainly see how great the difference is.
But what shall we say of the righteous, who are chiefly under discussion here? When the Lord purposes to establish his reign within them, he restrains and governs their will so that it is not carried away by disordered desire, as its natural inclination would otherwise dictate. He then bends, forms, directs, and leads it according to the rule of his righteousness, causing it to desire holiness and innocence. Finally, by the power of his Spirit, he confirms and strengthens it so that it neither wavers nor falls away.
It is therefore evident that the grace of God is, as it were, the guidance and bridle of his Spirit by which the human will is directed and governed. Yet he cannot govern it without correcting, reforming, and renewing it.
For this reason we say that the beginning of our regeneration consists in the abolition of what is naturally ours. Likewise, God cannot correct the will without moving, urging, directing, and sustaining it. Therefore, we say that all the actions proceeding from it are entirely from him.
Yet we do not deny the absolute truth of Saint Augustine's statement that our will is not destroyed by the grace of God but restored. These two statements agree perfectly: the human will is restored when, after its perversity has been corrected, it is directed according to the rule of righteousness; and in doing this, a new will is created in man,
since his natural will is so corrupt and perverted that it must be entirely renewed.
Nothing now prevents us from saying that we perform the works which the Spirit of God performs in us, although we do not cooperate with his grace by any power of our own. The first reason is that God wills everything he performs in us to become ours, provided we understand that it does not originate from us. The second is that understanding, will, and endeavor belong to us by nature, and God directs them toward the good so that something good may proceed from them.
The other arguments they gather here and there will not greatly trouble persons of even moderate understanding, provided they have carefully remembered the answers given above. They cite what is written in Genesis:
"Your desire shall be under you, and you shall rule over it." —Genesis 4
They interpret this as referring to sin, as though God were promising Cain that sin could not rule in his heart if he were willing to labor to overcome it.
We maintain, on the contrary, that these words should rather be understood of Abel. For in this passage God intends to rebuke the envy Cain had conceived against his brother. He does so for two reasons. The first is that Cain deceived himself by supposing that he could attain preeminence over his brother before God, who honors nothing but righteousness and integrity. The second is that Cain was exceedingly ungrateful for the blessing he had received from God,
since he could not tolerate his brother, who was his inferior and subject to his authority.
Nevertheless, lest it appear that we choose this interpretation merely because the other is contrary to our doctrine, let us grant them that God is speaking of sin. If so, God either promises Cain that he shall prevail over it or commands him to do so. If he commands him, we have already shown that they can prove nothing from a commandment to establish free will. If it is a promise, where is its fulfillment, since Cain was overcome by the sin over which he was supposed to rule?
They may perhaps say that a tacit condition is contained in the promise, as though God had said, "If you fight, you shall obtain the victory." But who could tolerate such evasions? For if the passage is interpreted as referring to sin, there can be no doubt that it is an exhortation from God. It does not show what man is able to do but what his duty is, even though he is unable to perform it.
They also appeal to the Apostle's statement that salvation does not lie in the hands of him who wills or of him who runs, but in the mercy of God. From this they infer that the will and exertion of man contribute something, while the mercy of God supplies what remains.
But if they properly considered what the Apostle is discussing in this passage, they would not misuse his words so thoughtlessly. I know that they can cite Origen and Saint Jerome in defense of their interpretation. Yet we need not concern ourselves with what those men thought, provided we understand what Saint Paul intended to say: namely, that salvation is obtained only by the one upon whom
God has mercy, while ruin and destruction await all whom he has not chosen.
He had shown the condition of the reprobate through the example of Pharaoh. He had proved the free election of believers through the testimony given to Moses:
"I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy."
He therefore concludes that it does not depend upon him who wills or him who runs, but upon God who shows mercy.
If anyone argues from these words that man possesses some power of willing and acting, as though Saint Paul had merely said that human will and effort are insufficient by themselves, he argues both wrongly and foolishly.
We must therefore reject this subtlety, which has no sound basis. For what sense is there in arguing: "Salvation does not lie in the hands of him who wills or him who runs; therefore, there must be some willing and some running"? Saint Paul's meaning is much simpler: no willing or running on our part leads us to salvation; God's mercy alone reigns in this matter.
For he speaks here in precisely the same way as in another passage, where he says that the goodness of God and his love toward mankind appeared, not according to works of righteousness that we had performed, but according to his infinite mercy. If I were to argue from this that we had performed some good works merely because Saint Paul denies that we obtained God's grace by works of righteousness we had done, they themselves would laugh at me. Yet
their argument is of precisely the same kind. Let them therefore consider carefully what they are saying, and they will cease relying upon such frivolous reasoning.
They next produce the testimony of Ecclesiasticus, a book whose author is known not to possess unquestioned authority. Yet even if we did not reject it—as we would have every right to do—how could it assist their cause?
It says that after man was created, he was left to his own will, and that God gave him commandments which, if he observed them, would preserve him. It also says that life and death, good and evil, were set before man so that he might choose whichever he desired.
Let it be granted that at his creation man possessed the ability to choose life or death. But what if we answer that he has lost it? Certainly, I have no wish to contradict Solomon, who affirms that man was created upright in the beginning but devised many evil schemes for himself. Yet because man, by degenerating and turning away from God, ruined both himself and all his descendants, whatever is said concerning his original creation must not be applied to his present, corrupt nature.
Therefore, I answer both them and the author of Ecclesiasticus, whoever he may be, in this manner:
"If you intend to teach man to seek within himself the power to obtain salvation, your authority is not so great in my estimation that it can prevail against the Word of God, which plainly teaches the contrary. But if you intend only to restrain the blasphemies of the flesh—which seeks to excuse itself by transferring its faults to God—
and therefore show that man received a good nature from God and became the author of his own ruin, I willingly agree with you, provided we also agree that man is now stripped of the gifts and graces he originally received from God."
But our opponents have nothing more frequently upon their lips than Christ's parable of the man whom robbers left half dead by the roadside. I am well aware that it is commonly taught that the calamity of the human race is represented in the person of this man. From this they draw the following argument: man was not so completely slain by sin and the devil that no portion of life remained in him, since he is said to have been left only half dead. "For where," they ask, "would this half-life be found unless some measure of right understanding and will remained in him?"
First, what will they do if I refuse to admit their allegory? For there is no doubt that the ancient fathers devised it beyond the literal and natural meaning of the passage. Allegories ought to be received only insofar as they are founded upon Scripture; far less can they serve to establish any doctrine.
Moreover, we do not lack reasons by which to refute everything they say. The Word of God does not leave half a life in man but declares him altogether dead with respect to the blessed life. When Saint Paul speaks of our redemption, he does not say that we have been delivered from half-death, but that we have been raised from the dead. He does not call those who are half alive to receive the grace of Christ, but those who are dead and buried. This agrees with our Lord's declaration that the hour has come when the dead shall rise at
his voice. Would they not be ashamed to set some trifling allegory against so many clear testimonies?
Yet even if their allegory were valid, what could they conclude from it against us? They will say, "Man is half alive; therefore, some portion of life remains in him." I readily acknowledge that his soul still possesses the capacity for understanding, although it cannot penetrate to the heavenly wisdom of God. He retains some judgment of good and evil and some awareness that there is a God, although he has no true knowledge of him.
But what does all this amount to? Certainly, it cannot make Saint Augustine's statement any less true: that after man's fall, the gracious gifts belonging to salvation were taken away from him, while the natural gifts that cannot lead him to salvation were corrupted and defiled.
Let this conclusion, therefore, remain firm and certain, since it cannot be shaken in any way: the human understanding is so completely alienated from the righteousness of God that it can imagine, conceive, and comprehend nothing but wickedness, iniquity, and corruption. Likewise, the human heart is so poisoned by sin that it can produce nothing but perversity. And if anything proceeds from it that bears some appearance of goodness, the understanding nevertheless remains enveloped in hypocrisy and vanity, and the heart remains devoted to every kind of evil.
CHAPTER THREE
Of God's Law
In explaining what is required for the true knowledge of God, we have shown that we cannot conceive of him according to his greatness without immediately recognizing that he alone possesses the majesty to which supreme honor belongs.
In treating the knowledge of ourselves, we said that the chief point is this: emptied of every imagined confidence in our own power and stripped of all trust in our righteousness—indeed, humbled by the consideration of our poverty—we must learn perfect humility, laying ourselves low and renouncing all glory.
Both truths are shown to us in the law of God. There the Lord first claims the authority to command and teaches us to reverence his divine majesty, showing us in what that reverence consists. Then, having established the rule of righteousness, he convicts us both of weakness and unrighteousness. For our nature, being corrupt and perverse, is entirely contrary and opposed to that righteousness; and our power, being feeble and incapable of doing good, cannot attain its perfection.
Therefore, the order laid down at the beginning of this work now leads us to treat the law of God. Yet what we should expect from the written law is already taught to us in some measure by that inward
law which, as we have said, is written and almost imprinted upon every human heart. For our conscience does not allow us to sleep perpetually without awareness. It inwardly bears witness and reminds us of what we owe to God, showing us the difference between good and evil and accusing us when we fail to do our duty.
Nevertheless, man is so entangled in the darkness of ignorance that by this natural law he can scarcely gain the faintest taste of what worship is pleasing to God; he is very far indeed from a true knowledge of it. Moreover, he is so swollen with pride and ambition, and so blinded by self-love, that he cannot yet examine himself and descend, as it were, within himself, in order to learn to humble himself and confess his misery.
Therefore, because it was necessary on account of the dullness of our minds and our arrogance, the Lord gave us his written law. By it he provides a clearer testimony of what was too obscure in the natural law and, driving away our carelessness, impresses it more vividly upon our minds and memories.
It is now easy to understand what we must learn from the law: that because God is our Creator, he rightly occupies toward us the position of Lord and Father, and therefore we owe him glory, reverence, love, and fear. Consequently, we are not free to follow the desires of our minds wherever they may lead us; rather, we depend entirely upon our God and must rest solely in what pleases him.
Moreover, we learn that righteousness and uprightness are pleasing to him, while iniquity is abominable. Therefore, unless we wish perversely and ungratefully to turn away from our Creator, we must love righteousness throughout our lives and diligently pursue it. For
if we render him the reverence that is his due only when we prefer his will to our own, it follows that no rightful honor can be given to him except by observing righteousness, holiness, and purity.
Nor may man excuse himself on the ground that he lacks the power, like a poor debtor unable to pay what he owes. For it is not fitting to measure God's glory according to our ability. Whatever our condition may be, God always remains like himself: the friend of righteousness and the enemy of iniquity. Whatever he requires from us—since he can require nothing unjustly—we are bound by natural obligation to obey.
Our inability to do so is our own fault. For if we are held captive, as though bound by our sinful desires, and are therefore not free to obey our Father, we must not plead this necessity in our defense, since the evil of it lies within us and must be imputed to us.
When the law has instructed us thus far, we must then, under its guidance, descend into ourselves. From this we shall derive two conclusions.
First, by comparing the righteousness of the law with our wickedness, we discover how far we are from satisfying the will of God. We are therefore unworthy even to retain our place and rank among his creatures, much less to be regarded as his children.
Second, when we consider our powers, we find them not merely insufficient to fulfill the law but altogether powerless. From this necessarily follows distrust of our own strength, and then anguish and trembling of spirit. For the conscience cannot bear the burden of sin without immediately setting the judgment of God before itself;
and the judgment of God cannot be perceived without producing the terror of death. Likewise, when conscience is convinced by experience of its own weakness, it cannot avoid despairing of its own powers. Both affections produce dejection and humility.
Thus, in the end, man—terrified by the awareness of the eternal death which he sees approaching as the deserved reward of his unrighteousness—turns to the mercy of God alone as the one harbor of salvation. Perceiving that he lacks the power to pay what he owes to the law and despairing of himself, he begins to breathe again, looking and pleading for help from elsewhere.
But the Lord is not content merely to show us the reverence we owe to his righteousness. In order also to incline our hearts to love righteousness and hate iniquity, he adds promises and threats. Because the eye of our understanding is so dim that it cannot be moved by the beauty and excellence of virtue alone, the Lord in his kindness has chosen to attract us to love and desire it by the sweetness of the reward he sets before us.
He therefore declares that he will reward virtue and that whoever obeys his commandments will not labor in vain. Conversely, he makes known that unrighteousness is not only detestable to him but cannot escape punishment, because he has determined to avenge contempt for his majesty.
To urge us by every possible means, he promises both the blessings of the present life and eternal blessedness to those who keep his commandments. On the other hand, he threatens transgressors not only with bodily calamities but also with the torment of eternal death. For this promise:
"The one who does these things shall live by them," —Leviticus 18
and the corresponding threat:
"The soul that sins shall surely die," —Ezekiel 18
undoubtedly refer to that future death or immortality which shall never end.
Indeed, wherever mention is made of the Lord's favor or wrath, eternal life is included under the former and eternal destruction under the latter. Yet in the law there is also a long catalogue of blessings and curses belonging to the present life (Leviticus 26; Deuteronomy 28).
In the punishments he announces, we perceive his perfect purity, since he cannot tolerate iniquity. In the promises, on the other hand, we see how greatly he loves righteousness, since he will not allow it to go unrewarded.
His marvelous kindness is likewise displayed. For since we and everything belonging to us are indebted to his majesty, he rightly requires everything from us as his due. But the payment of such a debt deserves no reward. Therefore, he relinquishes his rightful claim when he offers us any reward for our obedience, since we do not render it freely as something that was not already owed to him.
What benefit these promises can afford us in themselves will soon appear. For the present, it is enough to understand and consider that
the promises of the law contain a singular commendation of righteousness, so that we may perceive more clearly how pleasing its observance is to God. Conversely, its penalties are added to increase our abhorrence of unrighteousness, lest the sinner become so intoxicated by the sweetness of sin that he forgets the judgment of God prepared for him.
Moreover, when the Lord, intending to give us the rule of perfect righteousness, reduced every part of it to his own will, he thereby showed that nothing is more pleasing to him than obedience. This must be observed all the more carefully because the boldness and intemperance of the human mind are exceedingly prone to devise new honors and forms of worship to render to God in order to obtain his favor.
This irreligious affectation of religion, being naturally rooted in our minds, has manifested itself in every age and still manifests itself throughout the whole human race. Men are always eager to devise some means of acquiring righteousness apart from the Word of God. Hence, among the good works commonly esteemed, the commandments of the law occupy the lowest place, while an infinite multitude of human precepts holds the first rank and greatest prominence.
But what did Moses seek more earnestly to restrain than this desire when, after publishing the law, he spoke to the people in this manner?
"Take heed and obey what I command you, that it may go well with you and with your children after you, when you do what is good and pleasing before your God. Do only what I
command you, neither adding to it nor taking away from it." —Deuteronomy 12
And earlier, after declaring that Israel's wisdom and understanding before all the nations of the earth consisted in having received the Lord's judgments, statutes, and ceremonies, he immediately added:
"Take careful heed to yourself and to your soul. Do not forget the things your eyes have seen, nor ever allow them to depart from your heart." —Deuteronomy 4
The Lord foresaw that after receiving the law the Israelites would not restrain themselves from inventing new ways of serving him unless he held them under a tight rein. He therefore declared that his Word contained the entire perfection of righteousness, which should have been more than sufficient to restrain them. Yet they did not desist from the presumption that had been so expressly forbidden.
And what of us? Certainly, we are bound by the same word. For there is no doubt that the Lord's purpose of ascribing to his law the complete doctrine of righteousness remains perpetually valid. Nevertheless, not content with it, we labor remarkably hard to invent and fabricate one supposed good work after another.
The best remedy for correcting this vice is to have this thought firmly planted in our hearts: the law was given to us by the Lord to teach us perfect righteousness, and the only righteousness taught in it is that we should regulate and conform ourselves to the divine will.
It is therefore useless to invent new forms of works in order to obtain God's favor, since the lawful worship of God consists solely in obedience. Indeed, the pursuit of good works that depart from the law of God is an intolerable corruption of divine and true righteousness.
But when the law of the Lord has been explained to us, we shall then be able to discuss its office and use more properly and profitably. Before examining each commandment individually, however, it is useful first to understand what pertains to the law as a whole.
First, we must firmly establish that the law regulates human life not merely according to outward decency but also according to inward and spiritual righteousness. Although no one can deny this, very few seriously consider it. This happens because men do not regard the Lawgiver, whose nature must determine the nature of the law.
If an earthly king were to forbid adultery, murder, and theft by an edict, I acknowledge that a man who merely conceived a desire to commit adultery, theft, or murder—but neither performed the act nor attempted to perform it—would not be liable to the prescribed penalty. For since the jurisdiction of a mortal lawgiver extends only to outward conduct, his ordinances are not violated unless the evil proceeds into action.
But God, from whose sight nothing is hidden and who regards purity of heart more than the outward appearance of goodness, forbids every carnal desire, hatred, covetousness of another's possessions, deceit, and everything similar when he forbids adultery, murder, and theft. Since he is a spiritual Lawgiver, he addresses the soul no less
than the body. Hatred and anger are murder in the soul; covetousness is theft; and disordered lust is adultery.
Someone may object that human laws also consider the intentions and wills of men, rather than merely accidental outcomes. I acknowledge this, but they consider only those intentions that manifest themselves outwardly. They examine the purpose for which each act was performed, but they do not investigate secret thoughts. Therefore, whoever refrains from outward transgression has satisfied civil laws.
By contrast, since the law of God is given to our souls, our souls must chiefly be restrained if we would properly observe it. Yet most men, even when they wish to avoid appearing contemptuous of the law, bring their eyes, feet, hands, and other bodily members into some outward conformity with its commandments, while their hearts remain entirely alienated from obedience. Thus they imagine that they have acquitted themselves if they conceal from men what lies exposed before God.
They hear:
"You shall not murder." "You shall not commit adultery." "You shall not steal."
Therefore, they do not draw the sword to kill, associate with prostitutes, or lay hands upon another person's possessions. All this is good. Yet their hearts are full of murder and burn with carnal desire. They cannot look upon their neighbor's property without
envy, devouring it in their covetousness. Thus they lack what is chief in the law.
From where, I ask, does such stupidity arise, except that they disregard the Lawgiver and adapt righteousness to their own understanding?
Saint Paul strongly opposes this opinion when he declares that the law is spiritual (Romans 7). By this he means not only that it requires the obedience of the soul, understanding, and will, but also an angelic purity which, purged from every carnal stain, savors nothing but the Spirit.
In saying that this is the meaning of the law, we do not introduce a new interpretation of our own; we follow Christ, its most excellent interpreter. The Pharisees had spread among the people the perverse opinion that whoever committed no outward act contrary to the law was a faithful keeper of it. Christ refutes this error by declaring that an impure look at a woman is adultery and that all who hate their brother are murderers (Matthew 5).
He pronounces liable to judgment all who merely conceive anger in their hearts; liable before the council all who reveal their inward displeasure by murmuring; and liable to the fire of hell all who openly express their malice through abusive speech.
Those who failed to understand this imagined that Christ was a second Moses who brought an evangelical law to supply what was lacking in the Mosaic law. From this arose the commonly accepted notion that the perfection of the evangelical law is far greater than that of the ancient law.
This is a most perverse error. For when we later summarize the commandments of Moses, his own words will show how greatly this opinion dishonors the law of God. Moreover, it would imply that the holiness of the ancient fathers differed little from hypocrisy. Finally, it would turn us away from the one perpetual rule of righteousness which God gave at that time.
The error is easily refuted, because those who hold it suppose that Christ added something to the law, whereas he merely restored it to its integrity, purging it of the falsehoods and Pharisaical leaven by which it had been obscured and corrupted.
We must observe, secondly, that God's commandments contain something more than what is expressly stated in their words. Yet this principle must be applied with such restraint that we do not impose upon them whatever meaning seems good to us, turning them this way and that according to our pleasure. For some, by taking such liberty, cause the authority of the law to be despised as uncertain or lead men to despair of ever attaining a sound understanding of it.
We must therefore find, if possible, some method that will conduct us safely and certainly to the will of God. That is, we must determine how far our interpretation may extend beyond the words themselves, so that it may appear not to be an addition imposed upon God's law by human glosses, but a faithful declaration of the Lawgiver's pure and natural meaning.
Certainly, in all the commandments it is so evident that one part is used to signify the whole that anyone who sought to restrict their meaning to the bare words would deserve ridicule. It is therefore clear that even the most restrained interpretation of the law extends
beyond its words. But how far it extends remains uncertain unless some limit is established.
I believe the best rule is to direct our attention to the reason for which each commandment was given—that is, to consider in every commandment the purpose for which God gave it to us.
Every commandment either commands or forbids something. We shall obtain the true understanding of either kind by considering the reason for it or the end toward which it tends. For example, the purpose of the fifth commandment is that honor should be rendered to those upon whom God has chosen to confer it. Its substance, therefore, is that it pleases God for us to honor those to whom he has given some preeminence, while contempt and rebellion against them are abominable to him.
The reason for the first commandment is that God alone should be honored. Its substance, therefore, is that true piety—the honor we render to his majesty—is pleasing to God, while impiety is abominable to him.
Thus, in every commandment we must first consider the subject being addressed. We must then seek its purpose until we discover what God intends to declare pleasing or displeasing to him. Finally, from what the commandment states, we must reason to its contrary in this manner:
If this pleases God, its contrary displeases him. If this displeases him, its contrary pleases him. If he commands this, he forbids its contrary. If he forbids this, he commands its contrary.
What may now seem obscure because it has been stated briefly will become clearer in practice when we explain the commandments. It is therefore enough to have mentioned it here, except that our last point must be confirmed, since otherwise it might either be misunderstood or appear unreasonable.
Our statement that where good is commanded, its contrary evil is forbidden requires no proof, for everyone concedes it. Common judgment will likewise readily admit that when evil is forbidden, its contrary good is commanded. For it is commonly understood that when vices are condemned, virtues are commended.
But we require something more than men ordinarily understand when they acknowledge this principle. By the virtue contrary to a vice, they generally mean nothing more than abstaining from that vice. We go further, interpreting it to mean actively doing what is contrary to the evil.
This will be better understood by an example. In the commandment, "You shall not kill," common human understanding considers nothing more than abstaining from every act of violence and every desire to cause harm. But I say that we must understand something further: we must assist in preserving our neighbor's life by every means within our power.
Lest I appear to speak without reason, I will prove my assertion. The Lord forbids us to harm or injure our neighbor because he wills that our neighbor's life should be dear and precious to us. He therefore also requires every duty of love by which that life may be preserved.
Thus we can perceive how the purpose of a commandment teaches us what it commands or forbids us to do.
If anyone asks why the Lord merely indicated his will in part rather than expressing it plainly, several reasons might be given. But one satisfies me above all others. Since the flesh always endeavors to disguise the shamefulness of its sin or conceal it beneath empty excuses unless that sin can be pointed out unmistakably, God chose to present as an example the most vile and disordered form within each class of sin. He did this so that the very hearing of it might fill us with horror and cause us to detest every form of that sin all the more earnestly.
We are often deceived in our assessment of vices because we diminish their seriousness whenever they are somewhat concealed. The Lord therefore delivers us from this deception by teaching us to refer every fault to its general category, so that we may better understand how abominable it ought to be to us.
For example, hatred and anger do not appear especially detestable to us when called by their ordinary names. But when the Lord forbids them under the name of murder, we perceive more clearly how greatly he abominates them, since he gives them the name of so horrible a crime. Being thus instructed by God's judgment, we learn to estimate more properly the gravity of faults that previously appeared slight to us.
Third, we must consider what is signified by the division of the law into two tables. No person of sound judgment can suppose that Scripture mentions them so frequently without reason. The
explanation is so readily understood that there need be no uncertainty about it.
When the Lord intended to teach all righteousness in his law, he divided it so that the first table concerns the duties we owe him in honoring his majesty, while the second concerns what we owe our neighbor according to love.
Certainly, the first foundation of righteousness is the honor of God. When that is overthrown, all the other parts collapse like the pieces of a ruined building. For what kind of righteousness is it to refrain from harming our neighbor through theft and robbery while sacrilegiously robbing God's majesty of his glory? Or to refrain from defiling our bodies through sexual immorality while polluting God's name with blasphemies? Or to refrain from murdering men while endeavoring to extinguish the memory of God?
It is therefore useless to claim righteousness without religion, just as it would be useless to display a beautiful body without a head. Indeed, properly speaking, religion is not merely the head of righteousness and virtue but almost its very soul, giving it life and vigor. For men will never maintain equity and love among themselves without the fear of God.
We therefore call the worship of God the beginning and foundation of righteousness, because without it everything men may devise for living uprightly, chastely, and temperately is vain and worthless before God. We likewise call it the source and spirit of righteousness, because by fearing God as the judge of good and evil, men learn to live purely and uprightly.
Therefore, in the first table the Lord instructs us in piety and religion so that we may honor his majesty. In the second, he ordains how, because of our fear of him, we ought to conduct ourselves toward one another.
For this reason, as the Evangelists relate, our Lord Jesus summarized the whole law in two articles:
That we love God with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our strength; and that we love our neighbor as ourselves. —Matthew 22; Luke 10
We see how, of the two parts in which he comprehends the whole law, he directs one toward God and the other toward men.
Yet although the whole law is contained in these two points, our Lord, to remove every excuse, chose to declare more fully and plainly in ten commandments both what pertains to the fear, love, and honor of his divine majesty and what pertains to the love he commands us to bear toward our neighbor for his sake.
It is therefore not a useless exercise to inquire how the commandments should be divided, provided we remember that everyone may exercise freedom of judgment in this matter and that we should not provoke contention against anyone who disagrees with us. I say this so that no one may be surprised by the division I shall follow, as though it were newly invented.
There is no uncertainty concerning the number of the commandments, since the Lord has removed all controversy by his
Word. The dispute concerns only how they are to be divided.
Those who divide them so that the first table contains three commandments and the second seven either remove the commandment concerning images from the number or include it under the first, although the Lord plainly gave it as a distinct commandment. Moreover, they thoughtlessly divide into two commandments the tenth, which forbids coveting our neighbor's possessions. There is also another argument against them: their division was unknown in the early church, as we shall shortly see.
Others, like us, place four commandments in the first table, but they regard the opening statement as merely a promise and not a commandment.
For my part, unless I am convinced otherwise by compelling reason, I cannot understand the ten words mentioned by Moses as anything other than ten commandments. Moreover, it seems to me that we can identify them distinctly and in order. Therefore, while leaving others free to think as they please, I shall follow what appears most probable to me.
The statement which they make the first commandment serves as a preface to the whole law. The ten commandments then follow: four in the first table and six in the second, according to the order in which we shall present them.
Origen gives this division without hesitation as one commonly received in his time. Saint Augustine also approves it in the third book To Boniface. It is true that elsewhere he prefers the former division, but for a very slight reason: that if only three
commandments were placed in the first table, they would represent the Trinity. Yet even there he does not conceal that, in other respects, our division pleases him more.
We also have another ancient Father who agrees with our opinion: the author of the incomplete commentary on Saint Matthew.
Josephus assigns five commandments to each table, a division that appears to have been common in his day. But apart from the fact that reason opposes this arrangement, since it confuses the distinction between the honor of God and love for our neighbor, the authority of Jesus Christ also stands against it, for he places the commandment to honor father and mother within the second table.
Let us now hear the Lord speak.
The First Commandment
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before my face.
It matters little whether we take the opening statement as part of the first commandment or set it apart, provided we understand that it serves as a preface to the whole law.
First, whenever laws are enacted, provision must be made lest they be rendered ineffective through disregard or contempt. Therefore, at the outset, the Lord guards against the danger that the majesty of his law might be despised. He does this by establishing it upon three grounds.
First, he claims for himself the right and authority to command, thereby binding us to the necessity of obedience. Second, he promises us his grace, gently drawing us to follow his will. Finally, he reminds us of the blessing he has bestowed upon us, so that we may be convicted of ingratitude if we despise what he commands.
Under the name "the Lord" is signified his rightful dominion and authority over us. For if all things proceed from him and subsist in him, it is right that they should be referred to him, as Saint Paul says. By this name, therefore, we are taught that we must submit ourselves to the Lord's yoke, since it would be monstrous for us to withdraw from the government of him apart from whom we cannot exist.
After teaching us his right to command and that all obedience is owed to him, he also draws us gently, lest it appear that he intends to constrain us merely by necessity. He does so by declaring himself to be our God.
For this expression implies a mutual relationship, which is expressed in the promise:
"I will be their God, and they shall be my people."
From this promise Jesus Christ demonstrates that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob obtained salvation and eternal life, because God had promised to be their God.
Therefore, these words amount to this: "I have chosen you to be my people, not merely to bestow blessings upon you in this present life, but to conduct you to the eternal blessedness of my kingdom."
The purpose toward which this grace tends is stated in many passages. For when our Lord calls us into the fellowship of his people, he chooses us, as Moses says, to sanctify us to his glory and so that we may keep his commandments. Hence comes the exhortation which the Lord addresses to his people:
"Be holy, for I am holy."
From these two considerations is derived the solemn appeal God makes through his prophet:
"A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If I am your master, where is the fear due to me? If I am your father, where is the love?" —Malachi 1
He then recounts the blessing he has bestowed upon his servants. This ought to move them all the more deeply because ingratitude is a crime more detestable than any other.
At that time, he reminded the people of Israel of the blessing he had bestowed upon them—a deliverance so great and marvelous that it rightly deserved to be held in everlasting remembrance. Moreover, it was fitting that this deliverance should be mentioned when the law was about to be proclaimed. For the Lord signifies that he delivered them for this very purpose: that they should acknowledge him as the author of their liberty and render him honor and obedience.
But lest we imagine that this has nothing to do with us, we must consider that Israel's bondage in Egypt was a figure of the spiritual
captivity in which we are all held until the Lord, delivering us by his mighty hand, transfers us into the kingdom of liberty.
Therefore, just as in ancient times, when he intended to restore his church in Israel, he delivered that people from Pharaoh's cruel dominion by which they were oppressed, so today he rescues all those to whom he reveals himself as God from the miserable bondage of the devil—a bondage prefigured by Israel's physical captivity.
There is therefore no creature whose heart ought not to be inflamed to hear this law, since it proceeds from the sovereign Lord from whom all things derive their origin and to whom, by right, their ultimate end must also be directed.
Moreover, everyone ought to be especially moved to receive this Lawgiver, knowing that he has been chosen to observe his commandments and that from his grace he expects not only every temporal blessing but also the glory of immortal life.
Finally, we ought to be powerfully moved to obey our God when we understand that by his mercy and power we have been delivered from the abyss of hell.
After having founded and established the authority of his law, God gives the first commandment:
"You shall have no other gods before my face."
The purpose of this commandment is that God wills to possess sole preeminence and to be exalted among his people. To accomplish this, he requires us to put far away every form of impiety and superstition
by which the glory of his divinity is diminished or obscured. By the same reasoning, he wills that we honor him with a true affection of piety. This is virtually contained in the plain meaning of the words.
For we cannot have him as our God without attributing to him those things which properly belong to him. Therefore, when he forbids us to have other gods, he signifies that we must not transfer elsewhere anything that belongs to him.
Although the things we owe to God are innumerable, they may properly be reduced to four: adoration, trust, invocation, and thanksgiving.
By adoration, I mean the reverence a creature renders to God by submitting himself to his greatness.
By trust, I mean the assurance of heart we possess in him through knowing him rightly. Attributing all wisdom, righteousness, goodness, power, and truth to him, we regard our blessedness as consisting in communion with him.
Invocation is the recourse our soul has to him as its only hope whenever it is pressed by some necessity.
Thanksgiving is the grateful acknowledgment by which the praise for every good thing is rendered to him.
As God cannot tolerate our transferring any part of these things elsewhere, so he requires that they all be rendered entirely to him. For it would not be enough merely to abstain from every foreign god unless we rested in him. Some wicked people imagine that the
shortest course is to ridicule all religion, but that is no observance of this commandment.
On the contrary, if we would properly keep it, true religion must first reside within us. By it our souls must be directed toward God and, having known him, be led to honor his majesty, place their trust in him, seek his assistance, acknowledge all his gifts, and magnify all his works—in short, to regard him as their sole end.
We must then guard against every false conception, lest our souls be carried here and there after various gods. Here we must carefully observe the hidden nature of impiety and the disguises by which it deceives us.
It does not lead us toward foreign gods in such a way that we appear altogether to forsake the living God. Rather, while leaving him the highest honor, it joins to him a multitude of lesser gods among whom it divides his power. Thus the glory of his divinity is scattered here and there until it is altogether dissipated.
In this manner, the ancient idolaters, both Jews and Gentiles, imagined a supreme God who was Lord and Father over all. Yet they subjected to him a multitude of other gods, to whom they attributed the government of the world jointly with him.
The same has formerly been done with departed saints. They were exalted until they were made companions of God, being honored and invoked as he is and thanked for every blessing.
We imagine that God's glory is not at all obscured by this abomination, although it is for the most part suppressed and
extinguished, except that we retain some notion that he possesses supreme power above the others.
Therefore, if we would have only one God, let us remember that his glory must not be diminished in any respect, but that everything properly belonging to him must be preserved entirely for him.
The text then adds that we must have no other gods before his face.
By these words, he warns us that we cannot revolt into impiety without his witnessing and observing our sacrilege. For impiety becomes all the more audacious when it imagines that it can deceive God in its secret hiding places.
But the Lord declares, on the contrary, that everything we devise and contemplate is known to him. Therefore, if we desire our religion to be approved by God, let our conscience be pure from every evil thought, entertaining no inclination toward superstition or idolatry.
For the Lord does not merely require that his glory be maintained by outward confession, but that it be preserved before his face, from which nothing is hidden and before which everything is visible and manifest.
The Second Commandment
You shall not make for yourself any carved image or likeness of anything that is in heaven above, on the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. You shall not worship or honor them.
As in the preceding commandment God declared himself to be the only God, besides whom we must neither possess nor imagine another, so here he shows more clearly what he is and how he ought to be worshiped, lest we form any carnal conception of him.
The purpose of the commandment is that God will not allow the rightful honor we owe him to be profaned by superstitious observances. In short, he recalls and withdraws us from all carnal forms of worship devised by our understanding after it has conceived of God according to its own dullness. He consequently directs us to the rightful worship due to him—worship that is spiritual and instituted by God himself.
He identifies the most conspicuous vice in this matter: outward idolatry. Yet the commandment has two parts. The first restrains our presumption, lest we attempt to subject the incomprehensible God to our senses or represent him by any image. The second forbids the religious adoration of any images.
The reason for the first part is stated by Moses:
"Remember that the Lord spoke to you in the valley of Horeb. You heard his voice, but you saw no form. Therefore, take heed that you make no likeness of him," etc. —Deuteronomy 4
Isaiah frequently employs the same argument: that it dishonors God's majesty to represent by corporeal matter or a visible, senseless image him who is spiritual and invisible and who gives motion to every creature. Likewise, it dishonors him to compare his infinite essence to a small piece of wood, stone, gold, or silver.
Saint Paul makes the same argument in his address to the Athenians:
"Since we are the offspring of God, we ought not to suppose that his divinity is like gold or silver or carved stone, or anything fashioned by human skill." —Acts 17
From this it is evident that every statue made to represent God is altogether displeasing to him as an insult to his majesty.
It is true that God has sometimes manifested his presence through certain signs so clearly that he is said to have been seen face-to-face. Yet all such signs likewise demonstrated that his essence is incomprehensible, for he almost always appeared in a cloud, flame, or smoke. This signified that human sight cannot penetrate so far as to behold him clearly.
Therefore, Moses, to whom God revealed himself more intimately than to anyone else, could never obtain permission to see his face. Instead, he was told that man is incapable of beholding such great brightness (Exodus 33).
Even the mercy seat, through which the Lord manifested the power of his presence, was constructed to signify that the best view we can have of his divinity is to marvel at it as something surpassing our understanding. The cherubim covered it with their wings, a veil concealed it, and the place itself was so secluded and obscure that it was sufficiently hidden by its own arrangement.
It is therefore evident that those who defend images of God and the saints by appealing to the cherubim that God commanded to be
made are not in their right minds. For what did those images signify except that no image is capable of representing the mysteries of God? They were fashioned so that, by covering everything with their wings, they restrained the curiosity of the human eye from attempting to behold God.
Moreover, we must observe that every likeness is forbidden no less than a carved image. This refutes the foolish distinction made by the Greeks. They imagine that they have acquitted themselves if they do not carve God with hammer and chisel, while displaying greater superstition toward painted images than any other people.
But the Lord does not merely forbid a sculptor to fashion his likeness; he permits no image of him at all, because every such representation falsifies him and insults his majesty.
Furthermore, the text specifies the forms by which the pagans customarily represented God. By the things in heaven, he means the sun, moon, and stars, and perhaps also birds. For in Deuteronomy 4, when explaining his intention, he names both birds and stars. I would not have mentioned this except that I see some referring these words to angels. I pass over the remaining categories because they are sufficiently clear.
The second part of the commandment follows, concerning adoration. Such adoration is wicked when directed toward any image of God and doubly execrable when directed toward images of male or female saints.
These, then, are the stages of idolatry. First, the human understanding, swollen with pride and presumption, dares to
imagine God according to its own apprehension. But because it is filled with dullness and ignorance, it conceives in God's place nothing but vanity and a phantom.