CHAPTER THREE: The Revelation of God's Law (part 1 of 4)
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,”
and the corresponding threat:
“The soul that sins shall surely die,”
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.”
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.