Chapter 1. The knowledge of God and of ourselves are interconnected matters, and how they are mutually related.

The entirety of our wisdom—wisdom, that is, which deserves to be called true and solid—consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves. Yet, since these two are connected by many ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes and gives birth to the other.

For, first, no one can look upon themselves without immediately turning their thoughts toward God, in whom they live and move. It is perfectly clear that the gifts we possess are not from ourselves; indeed, even our very being is nothing other than subsistence in the one God. Then, from these blessings, which trickle down to us from heaven as from little streams, we are led back to the fountainhead. Moreover, from our weakness, it becomes clearer to us how infinite is the abundance of good things that resides in God. Above all, this miserable ruin into which the fall of the first man has plunged us compels us to lift our eyes upward—not only that, famished and empty, we may seek in God what we lack, but also, struck with fear, we may learn humility.

For within man there is found, as it were, a world of miseries; and our shameful nakedness, exposed by the stripping away of the divine adornment with which we were clothed, uncovers an immense heap of reproaches. Each person, being conscious of their own unhappiness, is necessarily pricked to some sense of God. Thus, by the awareness of our ignorance, vanity, poverty, weakness, perversity, and corruption, we recognize that the true light of wisdom, solid virtue, the complete abundance of every good thing, and the purity of righteousness, are all found in the Lord alone. Indeed, it is by our own evils that we are roused to consider the blessings of God, nor can we sincerely aspire to Him until we have begun to be displeased with ourselves.

For who among men does not gladly rest in themselves? And who does not rest there as long as they remain ignorant of themselves, that is, so long as they are satisfied with their own gifts and unaware or forgetful of their misery? Therefore, each one, by the knowledge of themselves, is not only urged to seek God but is, as it were, led by the hand to find Him.

2. Again, it is evident that man never attains a true knowledge of himself unless he has first contemplated the face of God, and from that contemplation descends to scrutinize himself. For such is the innate pride in us all—we always seem to ourselves righteous, upright, wise, and holy, until we are convinced by clear evidence of our unrighteousness, foulness, folly, and impurity. But we are not convinced if we look merely to ourselves and not also to the Lord, who is the sole standard by which this judgment must be measured.

Since we are all naturally inclined to hypocrisy, any empty semblance of righteousness is quite enough to satisfy us instead of righteousness itself. And since nothing appears around or within us that is not tainted with much impurity, as long as we confine our minds within the bounds of human corruption, what is slightly less foul pleases us as if it were most pure—just as an eye accustomed to seeing only black judges something that is dark gray to be dazzling white.

Indeed, we can draw an even closer analogy from our bodily senses to see how greatly we err in estimating the virtues of the soul. If we look down upon the earth at midday or gaze upon the things around us that lie open to our view, we think our vision is remarkably keen and strong. But when we turn our eyes toward the sun and stare at it directly, that power which was excellent on earth is at once so dazzled and confounded by such great brightness that we are compelled to admit that our sight, so keen in discerning earthly things, is mere dullness when directed toward the sun.

So it happens when we estimate our spiritual goods. As long as we do not look beyond the earth, we are quite pleased with our own righteousness, wisdom, and virtue; we address ourselves in the most flattering terms and seem to ourselves almost demigods. But if we once begin to raise our thoughts to God and consider what kind of being He is, and how absolute the perfection of that righteousness, wisdom, and virtue to which we ought to be conformed, what previously delighted us under the false pretense of righteousness will become polluted with the greatest iniquity; what wonderfully imposed upon us under the name of wisdom will stink in its extreme folly; what wore the appearance of virtue will be condemned as most miserable impotence. Even what seems most perfect in us utterly fails to correspond to God’s divine purity.

3. Hence that dread and awe so often recounted in Scripture, with which the saints were struck and overwhelmed whenever they sensed the presence of God. For those who, in the absence of the Lord, stood secure and composed were, upon the revelation of His glory, so shaken and undone that they fell into the terror of death—indeed, they were swallowed up and seemed to vanish entirely. From this, we must conclude that man is never sufficiently touched by the recognition of his poverty until he has compared himself to the majesty of God.

Examples of such consternation are abundant in the Judges and the Prophets, so much so that the phrase became common among God’s people: “We shall die, for the Lord has appeared to us” (Judges 13:22; Isaiah 6:5; Ezekiel 2:1, and elsewhere). For this reason, the story of Job has always been a principal argument for humbling men, bringing them to an awareness of their folly, weakness, and corruption, chiefly through the description of God’s wisdom, power, and purity. Nor is this without cause. We see, for instance, that Abraham came to recognize himself as “dust and ashes” the closer he drew to behold the glory of the Lord (Genesis 18:27). Likewise, Elijah, unable to bear the approach of God with his face uncovered, veiled himself in fear of the sight (1 Kings 19:13). And what can man, who is but corruption and a worm, do when even the cherubim must veil their faces in reverence and terror?

This is what the prophet Isaiah means when he says, “The sun shall be ashamed, and the moon confounded, when the Lord of hosts reigns” (Isaiah 24:23). That is, when God reveals His glory and brings it nearer, even the brightest things will pale in comparison and be darkened by His light (Isaiah 2:10, 19).

Yet, while the knowledge of God and of ourselves are inseparably connected, the proper order of teaching requires that we first address the former and then descend to the latter.

Chapter 2. What it means to know God, and to what end such knowledge is directed.
2.1. Now, by the knowledge of God, I mean not merely an understanding that there is some God, but also a realization of what it is expedient for us to know about Him—what is profitable for His glory and, ultimately, for our benefit. For we cannot rightly say that God is known where there is no religion or piety. At this point, I do not refer to that kind of knowledge by which those who, being lost and accursed in themselves, apprehend God as Redeemer in Christ the Mediator. Rather, I speak of that first and simple knowledge to which the genuine order of nature would lead us if Adam had remained unfallen.

For although no one in the present ruin of humanity perceives God as a Father, or the Author of salvation, or in any way favorable toward us, until Christ comes between to reconcile Him to us, it is one thing to perceive that God, our Creator, upholds us by His power, governs us by His providence, nourishes us by His goodness, and follows us with every kind of blessing. It is quite another to embrace the grace of reconciliation offered to us in Christ.

Since the Lord first appears as Creator—both in the workmanship of the world and in the general teaching of Scripture—and then as Redeemer in the face of Christ, a twofold knowledge of Him arises. The first will now be discussed, while the second will follow in due course.

Although our mind cannot apprehend God without ascribing to Him some form of worship, it is not enough simply to believe that He is the one whom all ought to worship and adore, unless we are also persuaded that He is the fountain of all good, so that we may seek nothing apart from Him. I take this to mean not only that He once created this world and now sustains it by His boundless power, governs it by His wisdom, preserves it by His goodness, and especially rules the human race by His justice and judgment, tolerates it by His mercy, and protects it by His defense, but also that no drop of wisdom and light, or righteousness, or power, or rectitude, or pure truth will ever be found anywhere that does not flow from Him as its sole cause.

We must, therefore, learn to expect and request all these things from Him and acknowledge, with thanksgiving, that they come from His hand. For this sense of God’s virtues is an apt teacher of piety, from which religion springs. By piety, I mean reverence joined with the love of God, which the knowledge of His benefits inspires. For until men recognize that they owe everything to God, that they are sustained by His paternal care, that He is the Author of all their blessings, and that they should seek nothing apart from Him, they will never submit to Him in willing obedience. Indeed, unless they place their complete happiness in Him, they will never yield themselves to Him in true and wholehearted devotion.

2.2.
Thus, they merely toy with cold speculations when they debate in this matter what God is, while what ought to concern us more is to know what He is like and what is congruous with His nature. For what purpose does it serve to acknowledge, with Epicurus, some deity who, casting off the care of the world, delights only in His own leisure? Or, indeed, what benefit is there in knowing a God with whom we have no dealings?

On the contrary, knowledge of Him ought to have this effect: first, that it should instruct us in fear and reverence; and second, that under its guidance and tutelage, we may learn to seek all good from Him and to attribute all that we receive to Him. For how can the thought of God enter your mind without immediately prompting you to reflect that, as His workmanship, you are bound to Him by the law of creation—to be subject to His command and to devote your life to Him? Whatever you undertake, whatever you perform, must be referred to Him. If this is so, it necessarily follows that your life is wickedly corrupted unless it is ordered to obedience to Him, for His will must be the rule for living.

Moreover, you cannot clearly behold Him unless you recognize Him as the fountain and origin of all good, from which arises the desire to cleave to Him and the confidence to rely upon Him—if only the depravity of your mind does not lead you away from right investigation. From the very beginning, a pious mind does not imagine for itself any deity it pleases but looks only to the one true God, nor does it attach to Him whatever it fancies, but is content to hold Him as He manifests Himself, always taking the utmost care to avoid the audacious presumption of straying beyond His will into error.

Thus, having known Him, understanding that He governs all things, the soul trusts Him as its Guardian and Protector and commits itself entirely to His care. Recognizing Him as the Author of all good, it turns to Him in times of trouble or lack, seeking His aid and expecting help. Being persuaded that He is good and merciful, it rests in Him with unwavering confidence, never doubting that a remedy for all its afflictions lies ready in His compassion. Acknowledging Him as Lord and Father, it deems Him worthy of its submission in all things, its reverence for His majesty, its concern for His glory, and its obedience to His commands. Seeing Him as a just Judge, armed with severity to punish iniquity, it ever places His tribunal before its eyes and, in fear, restrains itself from provoking His wrath.

Yet this fear of His judgment does not terrify it to the point of wishing to escape, even if an avenue of flight were open. Instead, it embraces Him no less as the Avenger of evil than as the Benefactor of the godly, understanding that His glory is no less displayed in the punishment of the wicked than in the reward of eternal life for the just. Furthermore, it refrains from sinning not merely out of dread of vengeance but because it loves and reveres Him as Father, observes and worships Him as Lord, and, even if there were no hell, dreads nothing more than offending Him.

Behold, then, the essence of true and pure religion: namely, faith united with a serious fear of God—a fear that includes voluntary reverence and leads to proper worship as prescribed in the Law.

This point must be observed more closely: that while all indiscriminately render some form of worship to God, very few truly revere Him. For while there is great ostentation in ceremonies everywhere, sincerity of heart is rarely found.

Chapter 3. The knowledge of God is naturally implanted in the minds of men.
3.1. We assert without dispute that there is implanted in the human mind, indeed by natural instinct, a sense of divinity. For God Himself, to prevent any man from seeking an excuse for ignorance, has endued all men with a certain understanding of His divine majesty, which He continually renews and occasionally reinforces with fresh drops. Thus, all men, without exception, recognize that there is a God and that He is their Maker, and they stand condemned by their own testimony for not having worshipped Him or devoted their lives to His will.

Indeed, if there were any place where ignorance of God could be found, it would seem most likely among the more obtuse peoples, far removed from the refinement of civilization. Yet, as that heathen philosopher remarked, there is no nation so barbarous, no people so savage, that they are not imbued with the belief that there is a God (Cicero, On the Nature of the Gods). Even those who in other aspects of life appear to differ least from animals nevertheless retain some seed of religion continually within them. So deeply has this common persuasion taken hold of every soul and so firmly does it cling to the innermost being of all.

Therefore, since from the beginning of the world there has been no region, no city, indeed no household, that could be without religion, there is in this a tacit acknowledgment that a sense of divinity is inscribed on every heart. Even idolatry itself is an abundant witness to this concept. For we know how willingly man degrades himself, elevating other creatures above himself. Thus, when he prefers to worship wood and stone rather than be thought to have no god at all, it is evident that this impression of the divine is so deeply engraved that it cannot be erased from the mind of man. Rather, it is easier for man’s natural inclinations to be broken—just as they are broken when he, abandoning his natural pride, freely lowers himself to revere even the basest objects, so long as they represent God.

3.2. It is therefore utterly vain to assert, as some do, that religion was invented by the craftiness and cunning of a few, as a means of keeping the simple populace in submission. They claim that those who advocated the worship of God for others believed nothing less themselves than that there was a God. I concede that crafty men have indeed fabricated many things in religion to impose reverence on the common people and to inspire fear, so as to render their minds more compliant. But they could never have achieved this unless the minds of men had already been imbued with that firm persuasion of God, which acts as the seed of religious inclination.

Moreover, it is scarcely credible that even those who deceitfully manipulated the ignorant under the guise of religion were wholly devoid of knowledge of God. Although there have always been, and still are today, some who deny the existence of God, whether they will or not, they repeatedly feel what they wish to remain ignorant of. No one is recorded to have broken out into more audacious or unrestrained contempt of the divine than Caligula, yet no one trembled more miserably whenever any indication of divine wrath appeared. Thus, the God whom he sought openly to despise, he involuntarily dreaded.

This same pattern can be observed in others like him. The more boldly anyone despises God, the more he is disturbed, even at the sound of a falling leaf. From where does this come, if not from the vengeance of divine majesty, which more forcefully strikes their consciences the more they try to flee from it? They all look for hiding places to shield themselves from the presence of the Lord and to erase it from their hearts, but whether they wish it or not, they are always held fast in its grip.

Although it may sometimes seem to fade momentarily, it continually returns and bursts forth with renewed force. Thus, even if they have some respite from the anguish of conscience, it is no different from the sleep of drunkards or madmen, who, even while sleeping, find no rest, being continually tormented by dire and horrific dreams.

Therefore, even the ungodly themselves bear witness by their own example that some notion of God always lives in the hearts of all men.

3. This will always be evident to those who judge rightly: the sense of divinity is engraved upon the human mind in such a way that it can never be erased. Indeed, the natural persuasion that there is a God is so universally innate and deeply rooted—almost as if it were fixed in the very marrow—that even the stubbornness of the impious bears witness to it. For though they struggle furiously to extricate themselves from fear of God, they cannot free themselves.

Diagoras and others like him may mock and jest about all that has been believed about religion throughout the ages; Dionysius may scoff at divine judgment—but this laughter is sardonic, for within, the gnawing worm of conscience torments them more keenly than any cauterization. I do not merely repeat Cicero’s observation that error fades with time, while religion continues to grow and improve daily. Rather, I say that the world, as I will soon explain, strives in every way to extinguish all knowledge of God and to corrupt His worship. Yet, even amidst the dullness with which the impious eagerly seek to suppress God, their hearts inevitably soften, and that sense of deity, which they most desire to extinguish, continues to thrive and repeatedly emerges.

From this, we gather that this knowledge is not something first learned in schools but is something of which each person is a teacher from the womb—a knowledge that nature itself does not permit anyone to forget, no matter how much effort many exert to do so.

Furthermore, if all are born and live in such a condition that they know God—yet if this knowledge does not advance to its proper end, it is unstable and fleeting—then it is clear that all who fail to direct the thoughts and actions of their lives to this goal degenerate from the law of their creation. Even the philosophers were not ignorant of this. Plato himself, often teaching that the supreme good of the soul is to be like God, affirmed that, upon perceiving the knowledge of Him, the soul is entirely transformed into His likeness (as in Phaedo and Theaetetus). Similarly, the reasoning of Gryllus, as presented in Plutarch, is most apt when he argues that, should religion once be removed from human life, men would not only cease to surpass brute beasts but would in many respects become far more miserable. For being subject to so many forms of evil, they would live in perpetual disorder and unrest.

It follows, then, that the worship of God is the one thing that elevates men, for it is through this alone that they aspire to immortality.

Chapter 4. The same knowledge is either stifled or corrupted, partly through ignorance and partly through malice.

1. Although the seed of religion is divinely implanted in all, as experience testifies, scarcely one in a hundred can be found who cherishes it in his heart, and none in whom it fully matures. So far is it from bearing fruit in due season. Moreover, whether some wander astray into their superstitions through error, or others deliberately and maliciously fall away from God, all alike degenerate from the true knowledge of Him. Thus, there remains no pure piety in the world.

When I said that some fall into superstition through error, I did not mean to suggest that their simplicity exempts them from guilt. For the blindness under which they labor is almost always bound up with arrogant vanity and implicit obstinacy. This vanity, joined with arrogance, is evident in that miserable men, instead of rising above themselves to seek God as they ought, measure Him by their own carnal stupidity. Neglecting a sound investigation, they flit about in vain speculations with curious presumption. Consequently, they do not apprehend God as He reveals Himself, but rather imagine Him to be whatever they have rashly devised according to their own folly.

Once they plunge into this abyss, whichever way they turn, they are inevitably swept headlong to ruin. For whatever efforts they make thereafter to worship or obey God, they cannot bring them to fruition, since they are not worshipping Him, but instead the figments and fantasies of their own hearts.

Paul clearly notes this depravity when he says they “claiming to be wise, became fools” (Rom. 1:22). Earlier, he said that they “became vain in their imaginations,” but lest anyone excuse them of guilt, he adds that they were deservedly blinded. For, not content with sobriety and modesty, and arrogating to themselves more than they had any right to, they of their own accord court darkness. Indeed, through their perverse and empty pride, they bewitch themselves into folly.

Thus, their foolishness is inexcusable, as it stems not only from vain curiosity but also from a licentious desire to know more than is proper, combined with false confidence.

2. When David declares that the wicked and senseless say in their hearts, “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1), he speaks first of those who, having stifled the light of nature, deliberately stupefy themselves, as we shall see again shortly. Just as we observe many who, having become hardened through reckless sinning and habitual wickedness, furiously repel all remembrance of God, though it is inwardly suggested to them by their own natural sense.

To render their madness all the more detestable, David portrays them not merely as openly denying God’s existence—though they do not take from Him His essence—but as stripping Him of His judgment and providence, confining Him idly to the heavens. For since nothing is less fitting to God than to abandon the governance of the world to blind fortune, or to close His eyes to the iniquities of men so that they may sin with impunity, whoever, having extinguished the fear of divine judgment, securely indulges himself, denies God’s very existence.

This is God’s just vengeance—that He covers their hearts with fatness, so that when they have closed their eyes, they see yet do not perceive. Elsewhere, David himself is the best interpreter of his own words, saying that “the fear of God is not before the eyes of the wicked” (Ps. 36:1), and that they flatter themselves in their iniquities, persuading themselves that “God does not see” (Ps. 10:11).

Thus, although they are forced to acknowledge some God, they nevertheless empty Him of His glory, denying His power. For just as (according to Paul) God cannot deny Himself, since He remains ever the same (2 Tim. 2:13), so these men, by fashioning for themselves a dead and empty idol, may truly be said to deny God.

Moreover, it must be noted that, though they struggle against their own conscience, striving not only to banish God from their minds but to erase Him from the heavens, they never so prevail in their stupor that God does not, at times, draw them back to His tribunal. Yet because they are held back by no fear from rushing headlong against God, and a blind and furious impulse carries them away, it is certain that, so long as they are thus swept along, a brutish forgetfulness of God reigns within them.

3. Thus, that empty defense which many are accustomed to cloak their superstition with is overthrown; for they imagine that any kind of religious zeal, however distorted, is sufficient. Yet they fail to consider that true religion must be conformed to the will of God as to a perpetual rule, and that God Himself remains ever the same—not a shadow or a phantom to be transformed according to each man’s whim.

Indeed, one may plainly see how superstition mocks God with its false pretenses, while vainly attempting to gratify Him. For it eagerly seizes upon those things which He has declared to be of no concern to Him, while those He prescribes and declares to be pleasing to Him it either treats with contempt or does not even hesitate to reject outright. Therefore, all who establish for themselves a counterfeit worship of God worship and adore the delusions of their own minds. For they would never dare to trifle with God in such a way unless they had first fashioned for themselves a deity suited to their foolish vanities.

For this reason, the Apostle pronounces that such a wandering and erratic notion of the divine is, in truth, ignorance of God: “When ye knew not God, ye did service unto them which by nature are no gods” (Gal. 4:8). Likewise, he states elsewhere that the Ephesians were “without God” when they strayed from the right knowledge of the one true God (Eph. 2:12).

Nor does it make much difference, at least in this regard, whether one conceives of one god or of many; for in either case, one departs and falls away from the true God. And once He is forsaken, nothing remains but an abominable idol.

It follows, then, that we must agree with Lactantius in concluding that no religion is legitimate unless it is joined with truth.

4. There is also a second fault: that they never have any regard for God except unwillingly; they do not draw near to Him unless they are dragged against their will, nor are they then imbued with a willing fear—a fear that flows from reverence for His divine majesty—but only with a servile and coerced fear, extorted from them by the terror of His judgment. And because they cannot escape it, they tremble before it—yet in such a way that they also abhor it. In truth, what Statius said applies well to impiety, and to this alone: “Fear first made gods in the world.”

Those who bear within themselves a mind estranged from the justice of God ardently desire the overthrow of His tribunal, knowing it stands to avenge their transgressions. With this impulse, they war against the Lord, who cannot but be a judge; yet, understanding that His power presses upon them inescapably, and knowing they cannot remove it or flee from it, they shudder at it. Thus, so as not to seem everywhere to despise Him whose majesty weighs upon them, they discharge their duty with whatever outward form of religion they may, yet all the while they cease not to pollute themselves with every kind of vice, piling iniquity upon iniquity, until they have violated the holy Law of the Lord in every way and utterly subverted His justice. Or at least, they are not so restrained by that counterfeit fear of God that they do not complacently rest in their sins, flatter themselves, and prefer to indulge the unbridled appetites of their flesh rather than curb them under the bridle of the Holy Spirit.

But since this empty and deceitful shadow of religion is scarcely even worthy of being called a shadow, it may be easily inferred how vastly it differs from that sincere piety which is instilled only into the hearts of the faithful, from which alone true religion is born. And yet, hypocrites seek, by winding and circuitous paths, to appear near to God, though they flee from Him.

Where there ought to have been a continual course of obedience throughout the whole of life, they, in almost all their works, boldly rebel against Him, seeking instead to appease Him with a few trivial sacrifices. Where they ought to serve Him with the sanctity of life and the integrity of heart, they devise frivolous trifles and worthless observances by which they hope to conciliate Him. Indeed, they become all the more licentious, sinking into the dregs of their corruption, because they trust that they may satisfy God by the idle sport of their expiations. Moreover, where their trust ought to be fixed in Him alone, they rest in themselves or in created things, setting Him aside.

At last, they become so entangled in a heap of errors that the sparks which once glimmered to illuminate His glory are smothered and finally extinguished in the darkness of their malice. And yet that seed remains which can in no way be torn up from the root: that there is some divinity. But this knowledge is so corrupted that it produces only the worst fruits.

Nay, this even more certainly confirms what I now contend—that the sense of Deity is naturally engraved upon the hearts of men—because even the reprobate themselves are compelled by necessity to confess it. In times of ease, they mockingly scoff at God, and indeed, they are quick-witted and loquacious in diminishing His power; yet, when any calamity presses upon them, it urges them to seek Him, dictating to them hurried prayers, from which it becomes clear that they were never entirely ignorant of Him, but that what ought to have surfaced sooner had been suppressed by their obstinacy.

Chapter 5. The knowledge of God shines forth in the fabric of the world and in His continual governance.
1. Moreover, since the perfection of blessedness consists in the knowledge of God, and since He has willed that no one should be barred from attaining to happiness, He has not only implanted in the minds of men that seed of religion of which we have spoken, but has also so revealed Himself in the whole workmanship of the world, and daily presents Himself so openly, that men cannot open their eyes without being compelled to behold Him.

Indeed, His essence is incomprehensible, so that His majesty is far beyond the reach of all human senses. Yet, in each of His works, He has engraved distinct marks of His glory—marks so clear and conspicuous that even the most unlearned and dull-witted have no excuse for ignorance. For this reason, the Psalmist rightly exclaims that He is clothed with light as with a garment (Ps. 104:2), as if to say that from the time He displayed His majesty in the creation of the world, He has been resplendent in visible glory, and that whenever we turn our eyes to one side or the other, His beauty meets us on every side. In the same passage, the Psalmist aptly compares the heavens, stretched out as they are, to His royal tent; he declares that He has framed His chambers upon the waters, that the clouds are His chariot, that He rides upon the wings of the wind, and that the winds and lightning serve as His swift messengers.

And since the splendor of His power and wisdom shines forth most fully above, heaven is frequently called His palace. Yet, wherever one turns one’s gaze, there is no part of the world in which even some sparks of His glory do not shine forth. Indeed, one cannot survey this vast and most beautiful structure, which extends far and wide, without being overwhelmed by the boundless radiance of its splendor.

For this reason, the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews elegantly calls the ages a spectacle of invisible things (Heb. 11:3), because the well-ordered position of the world serves us as a mirror in which the otherwise invisible God may be seen. Accordingly, the Psalmist attributes to the celestial bodies a language known to all nations (Ps. 19:1–2), for the testimony to divinity that is there made manifest is too evident to escape the notice of even the most obtuse people. The Apostle more clearly unfolds this thought, saying that what is worth knowing of God has been made manifest to men, because His invisible attributes—His eternal power and divinity—have been clearly perceived and seen by all, from the creation of the world (Rom. 1:19–20).

2. There are innumerable testimonies, both in heaven and on earth, which proclaim the marvelous wisdom of God—not only those more hidden wonders, which require closer observation and to which astrology, medicine, and the whole science of physics are devoted, but also those which present themselves openly to the view of even the most unlearned and ignorant, so that no one can open his eyes without being compelled to bear witness to them.

Indeed, those who have either deeply imbibed or even lightly tasted of the liberal arts, aided by their insights, are carried far higher in their contemplation of the hidden mysteries of divine wisdom. Yet no one is so hindered by ignorance of these sciences that he cannot perceive in God’s works more than enough skill to fill him with admiration for the Craftsman.

For the investigation of the motions of the stars, the division of their stations, the measurement of their distances, and the study of their properties require great skill and exact diligence; and the more these things are examined, the more fully does divine providence reveal itself, so that the soul ought to rise all the higher in contemplating His glory. Yet, since even the common people and the most unlearned—those who are furnished with nothing but the aid of their eyes—cannot but recognize the excellence of divine workmanship, which so freely displays itself in the innumerable yet so distinctly ordered and arranged variety of the heavenly host, it is evident that there is no one to whom the Lord does not abundantly manifest His wisdom.

Similarly, in the structure of the human body, to weigh with the careful precision which Galen employs [On the Use of Parts] its connection, symmetry, beauty, and function, requires a rare and penetrating intellect. Yet by the confession of all, the human body so plainly displays such ingenious workmanship that, on this account alone, its Creator is rightly deemed admirable.

3. Accordingly, some philosophers of old not without reason called man a microcosm, because he is a rare example of God’s power, goodness, and wisdom, containing within himself wonders sufficient to occupy our minds—provided we are not too sluggish to attend to them.

For this reason, when Paul teaches that even the blind may grope after and find God, he immediately adds that He is not far from any of us (Acts 17:27), because each individual, feeling within himself the heavenly grace by which he is sustained, is undoubtedly aware of Him. If, then, we need not go beyond ourselves to apprehend God, what excuse can there be for the sloth of those who refuse to descend into themselves in order to find Him?

For the same reason, David, after briefly celebrating the glorious name and majesty of God, which shine forth everywhere, immediately exclaims, “What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?” (Ps. 8:4). Likewise, “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast Thou ordained strength” (Ps. 8:2). Here he declares not only that the whole human race is a clear mirror of God’s works, but that even infants, hanging upon their mothers’ breasts, possess tongues sufficiently eloquent to proclaim His glory, so that no other orators are needed. Hence, David does not hesitate to bring forth their mouths as if they were well-armed battalions to refute the madness of those who, in their devilish pride, seek to extinguish the name of God.

From this also emerges Paul’s citation of Aratus: “For we are His offspring” (Acts 17:28). By adorning us with such excellence, God testifies that He is our Father. Even the heathen poets, moved by common sense and the witness of experience, have called Him the Father of mankind.

Yet no one will freely and willingly devote himself to the service of God unless he has first tasted His fatherly love and, being drawn by it, is led in turn to love and worship Him.

4. Here, however, is exposed the shameful ingratitude of men, who—though they bear within themselves a workshop noble with countless works of God and, at the same time, a treasury filled with an inestimable abundance of riches—ought to burst forth in praise, yet instead swell with all the greater pride and arrogance.

They feel in themselves the marvelous ways in which God operates; experience itself teaches them how great a variety of gifts they possess from His bounty. Whether they will it or not, they are compelled to recognize these as signs of divinity—yet they suppress them within. They need not go beyond themselves to find God; only let them not arrogate to themselves what has been given from heaven, nor bury in the earth that which shines in their minds, illuminating the way clearly to Him.

And yet today the earth sustains many monstrous spirits, who do not hesitate to turn all the divine seed sown in human nature toward the obliteration of God’s name. How detestable is this madness, I ask, that man, who in both body and soul finds God a hundred times over, should, by this very pretext of his own excellence, deny that God exists?

They will not say that they are fortuitously distinguished from the brute beasts, but, covering everything with the veil of “nature,” which they make the artificer of all things, they remove God from sight. They observe the exquisite craftsmanship in each of their members, from mouth and eyes to the very tips of their fingers, and yet here too they set “nature” in the place of God.

But above all, the swift movements of the soul, its noble faculties, and its rare endowments so clearly manifest divinity that it cannot easily be concealed—unless, like Epicurean Cyclopes, they from this very height wage war all the more insolently against God. Shall we believe, then, that the whole treasury of heavenly wisdom has conspired together merely to govern a five-foot worm? And shall the whole vast universe be deprived of this same prerogative?

To posit an organism in the soul, which corresponds to each of its parts, far from obscuring the glory of God, rather serves to illuminate it. Let Epicurus answer: What mere concourse of atoms is it that digests food and drink, converting part into waste and part into blood, and so orders each member with such industry to fulfill its office, as if so many individual souls, by common counsel, governed the body as one?

5. But I am not now concerned with that sty of swine; rather, I address those who, given over to perverse subtleties, eagerly twist Aristotle’s frigid dictum with a deceptive turn—not only to abolish the immortality of the soul, but also to rob God of His rightful dominion. For, because the faculties of the soul are organic, they use this as a pretext to bind it to the body, so that it cannot subsist apart from it; and by extolling nature, as far as lies within their power, they suppress the name of God.

Yet how far is it from the truth that the soul’s powers are confined to functions which merely serve the body! What has the body to do with measuring the heavens, numbering the stars, knowing the magnitude of each, understanding their distances, their swiftness or slowness in their orbits, and the degrees by which they incline this way or that? I grant that astrology has its uses, but I only intend to show that in such lofty inquiries into celestial things, there is no organic symmetry, but rather faculties of the soul distinct from the body.

I have given but one example, from which readers may readily infer the rest. Indeed, the soul’s agility is manifold: it traverses heaven and earth; it joins past to future; it retains in memory things long heard; indeed, it even forms within itself whatever image it wills. Its ingenuity, by which it conceives incredible things, and its fecundity, which has given birth to so many marvelous arts, are manifest tokens of divinity in man.

What shall we say, moreover, when in sleep the soul not only moves and turns within itself, but also conceives many useful things, reasons through many matters, and even foretells the future? What can be said here, except that the marks of immortality imprinted on man cannot be erased?

Now what reason could allow that man should be divine, and yet fail to acknowledge his Creator? Shall we, endowed with judgment to discern between right and wrong, claim that there is no Judge in heaven? Shall we, who retain intelligence even in sleep, deny that there is a God who keeps watch over the governance of the world?

Shall we be counted the inventors of so many arts and useful discoveries, while God is defrauded of His due praise? Yet experience sufficiently teaches that what we possess is distributed to us in diverse ways from elsewhere.

As for those who prattle about some secret inspiration that animates the whole world, their doctrine is not only feeble, but entirely profane. They delight in Virgil’s famous lines:

In the beginning, heaven and earth, the flowing fields,
The shining globe of the moon, and the Titanian stars,
A spirit within sustains: a mind infused throughout the mass
Moves the whole frame, and mingles itself with the vast body.
Hence arise the race of men, of cattle, and of flying things,
And monsters that the deep bears beneath its marble waves.
A fiery force is in them, and their origin is from heaven. (Aeneid 6)

Thus, they would have the world—created as a spectacle for the glory of God—be its own creator! Following the common opinion of both Greeks and Latins, the same poet elsewhere writes:

That bees partake of the divine mind, and of etherial breath,
They have called a god; for it passes through all things—
The earth, the expanse of the sea, and the vast heavens.
Hence arise cattle, herds, men, and all wild beasts,
Each at birth drawing to itself a subtle life:
And to this they return again, and all things, dissolved,
Are carried back; nor is there place for death, but living beings
Fly among the stars and take their place in the lofty heavens. (Georgics 4)

Behold what empty speculation concerning a universal mind that animates and quickens the world contributes to fostering true piety in the hearts of men! That it is wholly fruitless is even more evident from the blasphemous utterances of that impious dog, Lucretius, who derives his doctrine from the same principle.

Such teaching does nothing but banish the true God, whom we are to fear and worship, and substitute a shadowy deity in His place. I grant that it may be spoken piously, if it proceeds from a pious mind, that nature is God. But such an expression is harsh and improper, for rather, Nature is the order prescribed by God. Therefore, in matters of such weight, which demand singular reverence, to confound God with the inferior course of His works is both dangerous and pernicious.

6. Let us remember, then, that whenever a man considers his own nature, he should recognize that there is but one God who so governs all things that He wills us to look unto Him, to direct our faith toward Him, to worship and call upon Him. For nothing could be more perverse than to enjoy such splendid endowments—endowments which breathe of divinity—and yet neglect their Author, who grants them to us merely at His pleasure.

And what shall we say of His power, which so forcibly draws us into contemplation of Him? Can it be hidden from us what power it must be that upholds this immense mass of heaven and earth by His word alone? That, by His mere will, He shakes the heavens with the crash of thunder, sets the air ablaze with lightning, and consumes whatever He wills with His fire? That, by His command, He troubles the skies with various tempests, and in a moment, when it pleases Him, restores them to serenity? That He restrains the sea, which by its very height seems ever ready to overwhelm the land, as if it were suspended in the air? That, at His bidding, He sometimes stirs it into a dreadful tumult by stormy winds, and at other times, with the waves subdued, renders it calm and still?

To this belong the numerous praises of God’s power found throughout nature, especially in the book of Job and in Isaiah—passages which I now purposely omit, since a more fitting place will be found for them when I come to speak of the creation of the world from Scripture. For now, I have only wished to touch on this—that for both the pagan and the faithful, this is the common path by which God may be sought, if they but follow the outlines of His living image, traced above and below.

Now, this very power also leads us to contemplate His eternity, for it necessarily follows that He who is the source from which all things derive their origin must Himself be eternal and self-existent. And if we inquire what cause moved Him, first to create all things, and now to preserve them, we shall find that nothing but His own goodness was the cause. Indeed, even if this were the sole reason, it should more than suffice to draw us into love for Him, since, as the Prophet declares, “His mercy is poured forth over all His works.” (Ps. 145:9).

7. In the second category of God’s works—namely, those which occur beyond the ordinary course of nature—the evidences of His power and virtues shine forth no less clearly than those we have previously discussed. For in governing mankind, He so orders and moderates His providence that, while He manifests boundless generosity by bestowing infinite blessings upon all, He does not fail to make His judgments felt—both in His clemency toward the righteous and in His severity toward the wicked and reprobate.

His vengeance upon iniquity is not doubtful, just as He does not obscure His role as the protector—and even avenger—of innocence, when He blesses the lives of the righteous, relieves their necessities, soothes and comforts their sorrows, alleviates their calamities, and provides for their well-being in all things.

Nor should it be thought that His eternal rule of justice is darkened when He often permits the wicked and guilty to exult for a time unpunished, while the upright and undeserving are tossed about by many adversities, or even weighed down by the malice and iniquity of the impious. Rather, a far different reflection ought to arise in the mind: when He visibly strikes down a single offense as a manifest token of His wrath, this should remind us that He abhors all iniquity; and when He leaves many crimes unpunished for a time, it is because another judgment remains, in which all shall receive their due.

Likewise, how great a field is provided for considering His mercy, when He so often pursues miserable sinners with unwearied kindness, until by His continual beneficence He softens their perversity, and with more than paternal indulgence calls them back to Himself?

8. To this end, the Prophet, recalling how God, in moments of utter desperation, suddenly and wondrously delivers the afflicted and those nearly lost beyond hope—whether by protecting those who wander through deserts from wild beasts and at last restoring them to the right path, or by providing sustenance to the destitute and famished, or by bringing prisoners out of dark pits and iron chains, or by leading shipwrecked men safely into harbor, or by healing those who are half-dead from disease, or by scorching the land with burning heat and drought, or by secretly watering it with His gracious bounty, or by raising the most contemptible from the common multitude, or by casting down princes from the heights of their dignity [Ps. 107]—by setting forth such examples, he concludes that what are commonly regarded as the accidents of fortune are in truth so many testimonies to heavenly providence, and above all, to fatherly mercy. And from this, he teaches that the godly are given ample cause for rejoicing, while the mouths of the wicked and reprobate are stopped.

Yet, since the majority, entrenched in their own errors, are blind even in so illustrious a theatre, he exclaims that it is a rare and singular wisdom to rightly discern these works of God, which are set before men so plainly, yet profit nothing to those who otherwise seem most keen-sighted. Indeed, however brightly the glory of God may shine, scarcely one in a hundred is a true spectator of it.

Neither His power nor His wisdom is in any way obscured. His power stands forth brilliantly when, in a single moment, the ferocity of the wicked—thought by all to be unconquerable—is suddenly broken, their arrogance humbled, their strongest fortresses overthrown, their weapons and arms shattered, their strength enfeebled, their schemes undone, and they themselves crushed under their own weight. That audacity which sought to exalt itself above the heavens is cast down even to the depths of the earth. Meanwhile, the lowly are lifted up from the dust, the needy raised from the dungheap [Ps. 113:7]; the oppressed and afflicted are delivered from the extremity of distress; the hopeless are restored to good fortune; the unarmed triumph over the armed, the few prevail against the many, and the weak overcome the strong.

His wisdom likewise shines forth manifestly, as He dispenses all things with perfect order and seasonableness, confounds all worldly prudence, catches the crafty in their own craftiness [1 Cor. 3:19], and tempers all things with the highest reason.

9. We see that no lengthy or laborious demonstration is needed to bring forth the testimonies that serve to illustrate and affirm the divine majesty. From the few examples we have touched upon, it is evident that wherever one turns, they are so readily available and manifest that they may easily be pointed to with the eyes and marked with the fingers.

And here again, we must observe that we are invited to the knowledge of God—not to a knowledge that flits about the brain in empty speculation, but one that is solid and fruitful, taking root in the heart if rightly received. For the Lord makes Himself known by His attributes, the power of which we feel within us and the benefits of which we enjoy. Hence, this knowledge must necessarily affect us far more vividly than if we were to imagine a deity from whom no experience reached us.

Thus, we understand that this is the most proper and direct way to seek God—not by a rash curiosity that would attempt to penetrate into the scrutiny of His essence, which is to be adored rather than minutely investigated, but by contemplating Him in His works, through which He draws near to us, makes Himself familiar to us, and in a manner communicates Himself to us. This is what the Apostle had in view when he said that we need not search far for Him, seeing that by His most present power He dwells in each of us [Acts 17:27].

Accordingly, David, after confessing the ineffable greatness of God, then turns to a commemoration of His works, declaring that he will recount that very greatness [Ps. 145]. Therefore, it is fitting that we should apply ourselves to that pursuit of God which so holds the mind in suspended admiration as to also deeply affect it with a powerful sense of His presence.

And as Augustine teaches elsewhere, since we cannot comprehend Him, it is fitting, as though overcome by His magnitude, that we turn to His works, by which we may be refreshed with His goodness [Augustine, Commentary on Psalm 144].

10. Furthermore, such knowledge ought not only to stir us to the worship of God but also to awaken and elevate our hope of future life. For when we perceive that the Lord displays signs of both His clemency and His severity, yet only in a partial and unfinished manner, we must undoubtedly conclude that these are but preludes to far greater things, the full revelation and consummation of which is reserved for another life.

Conversely, when we see the godly burdened with afflictions, harassed by wrongs, crushed by calumnies, and torn by insults and reproaches, while the wicked, by contrast, flourish and prosper, enjoy dignity and peace, and that seemingly with impunity, we must at once conclude that there is another life where punishment awaits iniquity, and the reward of righteousness is stored up.

Moreover, as we observe that the Lord frequently chastises His faithful with scourges, it is most certain that the impious shall by no means escape His judgment in the end. For well known is that saying of Augustine: If every sin were now punished with manifest judgment, nothing would be thought to remain for the final judgment; yet, on the other hand, if no sin were now openly punished by God, it would be believed that there is no divine providence at all (City of God, Book 1, Chapter 8).

Thus, we must acknowledge that in each of God’s works—and especially in their totality—His attributes are as it were painted upon a tablet, so that the whole human race may be drawn into the knowledge of Him and, from that knowledge, invited and allured to true and perfect felicity.

Furthermore, though these attributes shine forth there in their fullest clarity, we can only fully grasp their purpose, their worth, and the ultimate end for which they are to be considered when we descend into ourselves and contemplate the ways in which the Lord exerts His life, wisdom, and power within us—how He manifests His justice, goodness, and clemency toward us.

For although David rightly laments that the ungodly act foolishly because they fail to comprehend the deep counsels of God in governing the human race (Ps. 92:7), yet it remains most true, as he declares elsewhere, that the wisdom of God in this matter exceeds even the number of the hairs of our head (Ps. 40:12).

But since this argument is to be treated more fully in its proper order later on, I shall for now pass over it.

11. Yet, however clearly the Lord represents both Himself and His immortal kingdom in the mirror of His works, what is our dullness but an ever-present stupor, causing us to grow insensible to such manifest testimonies, so that they pass before us without profit?

For as to the construction of the world and its most beautiful arrangement, how few of us, when lifting our eyes to the heavens or surveying the varied regions of the earth, turn our minds to the remembrance of the Creator? Rather, do we not pass over the Author Himself and rest idly upon the mere spectacle of His works?

And as for those things which daily occur beyond the ordinary course of nature, how few are there who do not imagine that men are tossed about rather by the blind recklessness of fortune than governed by the providence of God?

But if at any time we are drawn by the guidance and ordering of these things to consider God (as must necessarily happen to all), nevertheless, once we have rashly conceived some sense of divinity, we immediately descend into the delusions of our flesh and corrupt the pure truth of God by our own vanity, either through foolish fancies or depraved fabrications.

Though we differ in that each devises his own peculiar error, in this we are all alike, that to a man, we forsake the one true God and lapse into monstrous absurdities. And this disease afflicts not only the common people and dull minds, but even the most brilliant intellects, those otherwise endowed with singular acumen.

How glaringly has the entire race of philosophers exposed its own folly and stupidity in this regard! To spare others, who are far more absurd in their ravings, let us look to Plato, the most religious and sober-minded among them all—yet even he vanishes into his whimsical notion of a circular globe.

And what shall we expect of others when even the foremost among them—those who were meant to enlighten the rest—stumble and go astray?

Likewise, when the government of human affairs gives more evident proof of providence than could possibly be denied, men make no more progress than if they believed all things to be thrown hither and thither by the reckless whim of fortune. So great is our propensity toward vanity and error.

I speak here of the most excellent minds, not of those vulgar souls whose madness has advanced to unspeakable lengths in the profanation of divine truth.

12. Hence arose that boundless flood of errors with which the entire world has been inundated and overwhelmed. For each man’s own intellect is like a labyrinth, so that it is no wonder that various nations have been drawn into different fabrications. Nay, not only this, but almost every individual has devised for himself a separate god.

For as ignorance and darkness are joined by recklessness and wantonness, scarcely has there ever been one who did not fashion for himself an idol or a phantom in place of the true God. Indeed, just as from a vast and copious fountainhead water bursts forth in torrents, so from the minds of men has gushed forth an innumerable throng of gods, while each, wandering in unrestrained license, falsely imagines this or that concerning God Himself.

Yet, there is no need to compose a catalogue of the superstitions with which the world has been ensnared, for there would be no end to it. And even if nothing were said, the sheer multitude of corruptions makes evident how dreadful is the blindness of the human mind.

I shall pass over the unlearned and untutored masses. But even among the philosophers—those who, through reason and learning, sought to penetrate the heavens—how shameful is their diversity of opinion! Indeed, the more a man was endowed with intellect, and refined in skill and knowledge, the more he sought to adorn his own position with elegant colors, which, if closely examined, are found to be nothing but empty disguises.

The Stoics, thinking themselves subtle, asserted that various names of God could be drawn from all the parts of nature, yet that this did not tear the one true God into pieces. As if we were not already more than prone enough to vanity, unless the multiplicity of gods thrust before us should drag us even further and more violently into error!

Nor was this folly confined to the philosophers. The mystical theology of the Egyptians likewise makes clear that all nations were diligently engaged in this endeavor—that they might not appear to be raving without reason.

At first glance, something may seem plausible enough to deceive the simple and unwary, yet never has any mortal devised anything that did not shamefully corrupt true religion. Indeed, this confused and chaotic diversity emboldened the Epicureans and other gross despisers of piety to cast away all sense of God altogether.

For when they saw even the most prudent men contending with one another in conflicting opinions, they did not hesitate to conclude from such disagreements—and from the trivial, or even absurd, doctrines of each—that men needlessly and foolishly torment themselves by inquiring after a god who does not exist. They reckoned themselves justified in doing this, thinking it preferable to deny God altogether in a brief and summary fashion than to fabricate uncertain gods and thereafter engage in endless disputes without resolution.

Yet, in reasoning thus, they show themselves not merely foolish but altogether blind, or rather, they raise a smokescreen to conceal their impiety behind human ignorance—though from this, nothing ought to be detracted from God. Since all confess that no subject has been the source of greater contention among both the learned and the unlearned alike, it must be inferred that the minds of men are more than dull and blind when it comes to the mysteries of heaven, as they so grievously err in their pursuit of God.

Some praise the response of Simonides, who, when asked by the tyrant Hiero what God was, requested a day to consider the question. When the tyrant inquired again the next day, he asked for two more days, and so on, continually doubling the number of days, until at last he replied, The more I consider, the more obscure the matter seems to me.

Certainly, it was wise of him to withhold judgment concerning a matter so obscure to him. Yet from this, it is evident that if men are left only to their natural understanding, they hold nothing certain, solid, or distinct regarding God; rather, they are so confined within confused and vague notions that they worship an unknown deity.

13. It must also be firmly held that whoever corrupts pure religion (as necessarily happens to all who cling to their own opinions) is guilty of departing from the one true God. They may indeed claim otherwise, but whatever they intend or persuade themselves to believe is of little consequence; for the Holy Spirit pronounces all as apostates who, in the blindness of their minds, substitute demons in place of God.

For this reason, Paul declares that the Ephesians were without God until they learned from the Gospel what it means to worship the true God (Eph. 2:12). Nor should this be confined merely to one nation, since elsewhere he affirms that all mankind became vain in their imaginations (Rom. 1:21) after the majesty of the Creator had been revealed to them in the fabric of the world. Thus, in order to make room for the true and only God, Scripture condemns as falsehood and deceit all divinity once celebrated among the nations, leaving no deity standing except in Mount Zion, where the peculiar knowledge of God flourished (Hab. 2:18, 20).

Surely, among the Gentiles of Christ’s time, the Samaritans seemed to come closest to true piety; yet we hear from Christ’s own lips that they knew not what they worshipped (John 4:22), which necessarily follows that they were deceived by vain error. Finally, even if not all were given over to gross vices or had fallen into open idolatry, no religion could be considered pure and acceptable if it was founded only upon common human sense. For though a few may not have raged with the multitudes, Paul’s doctrine remains fixed: The rulers of this world have not apprehended the wisdom of God (1 Cor. 2:8). If even the most excellent minds wandered in darkness, what shall we say of the dregs of mankind?

It is no wonder, then, that the Holy Spirit rejects as degenerate all forms of worship devised by human judgment, for in the mysteries of heaven, an opinion conceived by man—though it may not always yield a great heap of errors—nevertheless breeds error. And even if nothing worse were added, it would still be no small fault to worship God fortuitously as one unknown; yet Christ himself declares that all who are not taught by the Law concerning whom they ought to worship fall into this error (John 4:22).

Certainly, even the best lawmakers have advanced no further than to establish religion upon public consensus. Indeed, in Xenophon, Socrates commends the oracle of Apollo for instructing each to worship the gods according to the customs of his city and the rites of his fathers. But whence comes this right to mortals, to define by their own authority that which infinitely surpasses them? Or who could so acquiesce to the traditions of their ancestors or the decrees of the people as to receive without hesitation a deity handed down by human tradition? Rather, each man would rely on his own judgment than subject himself to another’s determination.

Since, therefore, it is far too feeble and fragile a bond of piety to follow either the custom of one’s city or the consensus of antiquity in the worship of God, it remains that God himself must bear testimony concerning himself from heaven.

14. Thus, it is in vain that so many kindled lamps shine forth in the fabric of the world to illuminate the glory of its Author, for though they irradiate us from every side, they are nevertheless unable, of themselves, to lead us into the right path. Indeed, they do kindle certain sparks, yet these are smothered before they can pour forth a fuller radiance.

For this reason, the Apostle, in the very place where he calls the world a visible image of invisible realities, immediately adds that we understand by faith that the worlds were framed by the word of God (Heb. 11:3), thereby signifying that, though the invisible divinity is indeed represented in such spectacles, we have no eyes to perceive it unless they be illumined by the inward revelation of God through faith.

Nor, when Paul declares that what may be known of God is manifest in the creation of the world (Rom. 1:19), does he mean that such a manifestation can be comprehended by human insight. Rather, he shows that it advances no further than to leave men without excuse. Likewise, though in one place he affirms that God is not far to be sought, since He dwells within us (Acts 17:27), elsewhere he teaches to what end such nearness serves: In times past, God allowed the nations to walk in their own ways (Acts 14:16), yet He did not leave Himself without witness, doing good from heaven, giving rain and fruitful seasons, and filling men’s hearts with food and gladness.

Therefore, though the Lord is not without testimony, and though by His manifold and abundant kindness He sweetly draws men into His knowledge, they do not cease to follow their own ways, that is, their fatal errors.

15. However, though we are by nature destitute of the faculty to ascend to a pure and clear knowledge of God, yet since the fault of our dullness lies within us, every excuse is cut off. For ignorance cannot so be pleaded as to exempt us from the conviction of sloth and ingratitude, even by the very testimony of our own conscience.

Surely it is a defense worthy of acceptance, if man should claim that he lacks ears to hear the truth, when mute creatures proclaim it with voices more sonorous than any tongue; or that he lacks eyes to see, when creatures without sight clearly declare it; or that he excuses the weakness of his mind, when creatures void of reason instruct him. Thus, we are rightly and justly excluded from all excuse, since we stray aimlessly and wander in error while all things point out the right way.

Yet though it is to be imputed to the vice of men that the seed of the knowledge of God, which has been sprinkled upon their minds through the marvelous workmanship of nature, is at once corrupted and fails to bring forth pure and wholesome fruit, still it remains most true that this bare and simple testimony, which is so magnificently rendered to the glory of God by the creation, is insufficient to instruct us rightly.

For as soon as we have tasted but a little of divinity from our contemplation of the world, neglecting the true God, we set up in His place phantoms and figments of our own imagination; and the praise of His justice, wisdom, goodness, and power, which ought to be ascribed to the fountainhead alone, we disperse hither and thither. Furthermore, His daily works we so obscure or pervert by our false judgments, that we both rob them of His glory and the praise due to their Author.

Chapter 6. That Scripture is necessary as our guide and instructor to come to God the Creator.

1. Although that brilliant radiance which is displayed before the eyes of all men in heaven and earth more than suffices to strip human ingratitude of every defence—and thus, God, to involve mankind universally in the same guilt, distinctly delineates his Deity in created things—yet it is necessary for another and better help to come alongside this, clearly to direct us to the Creator of the world. It was, therefore, not in vain that he added the light of his Word, by which he has made himself known for salvation, thus honouring with this special privilege those whom he wished to draw closer and gather to himself in a more intimate communion.

For seeing the minds of men tossed about in vague and unstable confusion, after he chose the Jews as his peculiar flock, he enclosed them within hedges, that they might not wander like others. Nor does he without reason preserve us by the same remedy in the pure knowledge of himself; for otherwise even those who seem most firm among us would quickly disperse and fall away. Just as old or dim-sighted men, and all whose eyes are weak, if presented even with the most beautiful volume, though they perceive that something is written, yet scarcely manage to read two words continuously; but when aided by the interposition of spectacles, immediately begin to read distinctly: so Scripture, gathering together within our minds what would otherwise remain confused knowledge of God, dispels our darkness, and plainly shows us the true God.

This, therefore, is a singular gift: that for the instruction of his Church, God does not merely use mute teachers, but opens also his own most sacred mouth; not only proclaiming that some God ought to be worshipped, but at the same time declaring himself to be that God whom we should worship. Nor does he merely teach his elect to look upon a god, but manifests himself as the one upon whom they should look. This is the order which he observed from the beginning toward his Church, that besides those common testimonies, he also employed his Word, which is a surer and more certain mark by which he may be discerned.

And it was undoubtedly by this assistance that Adam, Noah, Abraham, and the rest of the patriarchs attained to that familiar knowledge which distinguished them from unbelievers.. Yet I speak not now of that special doctrine of faith by which they were enlightened unto the hope of eternal life. For to pass from death to life, it was necessary not only to acknowledge God as Creator, but also as Redeemer; and indeed, they obtained both from the Word. For in order, the first kind of knowledge granted was that by which they came to know who the God is who created and governs the world. Then, afterwards, was added that deeper knowledge, which alone gives life to dead souls—by which God is known not only as the Creator of the world and the sovereign Author of all things, but also as the Redeemer in the person of the Mediator.

Yet, as we have not yet come to the fall of the world and the corruption of nature, I refrain at present from discussing the remedy. Let readers, therefore, bear in mind that I am not yet treating that covenant by which God adopted to himself the sons of Abraham, nor of that part of doctrine whereby the faithful have always been distinguished from profane nations, as it was founded in Christ; but merely showing how from Scripture we may rightly learn to distinguish by sure marks the God who is Creator of the world from the entire host of imaginary gods.

The sequence itself will then opportunely lead us onward to redemption. And though we shall bring forth many testimonies from the New Testament, and others from the Law and the Prophets, where express mention of Christ is made, yet all these will aim at this single purpose: to set forth God as Creator of the world as revealed to us in Scripture, and clearly explain what ought to be believed concerning him, lest through wandering paths we seek after an uncertain deity.

2. Whether God made Himself known to the patriarchs through oracles and visions, or whether He suggested through the work and ministry of men what was afterward transmitted by hand to posterity, there is no doubt that He engraved upon their hearts a firm certainty of doctrine, so that they were persuaded and understood that what they had learned had proceeded from God. For God has always established unquestionable faith in His word, which surpasses all human opinion.

At length, in order that the truth of doctrine, by continuous progress, might remain perpetually in the world throughout all ages, He willed that the same oracles which He had deposited with the patriarchs should be, as it were, committed to public records. With this purpose, the Law was promulgated, to which afterward the Prophets were added as interpreters. Though the Law served multiple purposes, as will be better considered in its proper place, its principal intent, along with that of Moses and all the Prophets, was to teach the manner of reconciliation between God and men (hence Paul also calls Christ “the end of the Law” [Rom. 10:4]). Yet I repeat, beyond the peculiar doctrine of faith and repentance, which sets forth Christ as Mediator, Scripture distinguishes the one true God—who created and governs the world—with clear marks and evidences, so that He might not be confounded with the multitude of false gods.

Thus, although it is fitting for man to direct his gaze earnestly to the works of God—since he has been placed in this most splendid theatre to be a spectator—it is, nevertheless, even more necessary that he incline his ears to the Word, that he may profit more fully. It is therefore no wonder that those who are born in darkness become increasingly hardened in their stupefaction, for very few submit themselves to the discipline of God’s Word, so as to remain within its bounds; rather, they exult in their own vanity.

Thus, we must hold it as certain that, in order for true religion to shine upon us, its beginning must arise from heavenly doctrine, and that no one can attain even the slightest taste of sound and wholesome teaching except by being a disciple of Scripture. From this also emerges the principle of true understanding, which begins when we reverently embrace what God has willed to testify concerning Himself therein. Indeed, not only does faith, in its perfection and full measure, arise from obedience, but all true knowledge of God proceeds from it.

And certainly, in this regard, God, in His singular providence, has made provision for mortals in all ages.

3. For if we consider how easily the human mind slips into forgetfulness of God, how inclined it is toward every kind of error, and how eagerly it fabricates ever new and artificial religions, it will be evident how necessary it was that such celestial doctrine should be committed to writing, lest it should perish through neglect, vanish through error, or be corrupted by the audacity of men.

Since, therefore, it is clear that God, whenever He willed to instruct any to good effect, employed the aid of His Word—having foreseen that the impression of His image, even in the most beautiful workmanship of the world, would be of little efficacy—we must proceed by this straight path if we are to aspire seriously to the pure contemplation of God. To the Word, I say, must we come, where He is described to us clearly and vividly by His own works, not as they are distorted by the perversity of our judgment, but as they are rightly measured by the rule of eternal truth.

If we turn aside from it, as I lately said, no matter how strenuously we exert ourselves, since our course will be outside the path, we shall never reach the goal. Thus, we must consider that the brightness of the divine countenance, which the Apostle calls inaccessible [1 Tim. 6:16], is to us as an unfathomable labyrinth unless we are guided by the line of the Word; so that it is better to limp in this path than to run swiftly outside of it.

Accordingly, David, when teaching that superstitions must be abolished from the world so that pure religion may flourish, frequently presents God as reigning [Psalms 93, 96, 97, 99, and the like], not merely signifying by this term the power with which He is endowed and which He exercises over the whole governance of nature, but rather the doctrine by which He asserts His rightful sovereignty. For errors can never be eradicated from human hearts until the true knowledge of God has been planted within them.

4. Thus, the same Prophet, after declaring that the heavens proclaim the glory of God, that the firmament reveals the works of His hands, and that the orderly succession of day and night proclaims His majesty [Psalm 19:1], then proceeds to the mention of the Word: The law of the Lord is perfect, converting souls; the testimony of the Lord is faithful, giving wisdom to the simple; the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.

Though he includes other uses of the Law, he nevertheless signifies in general that, since God invites all peoples to Himself through the contemplation of heaven and earth in vain, this is the peculiar school of the children of God.

To the same purpose is Psalm 29, where the Prophet, having preached on the dreadful voice of God, which shakes the earth in thunder, winds, rains, whirlwinds, and storms, makes the mountains tremble, and breaks the cedars, at last concludes that His praises should be sung in the Sanctuary, for unbelievers remain deaf to all the voices of God that resound in the air. Similarly, another Psalm, after describing the terrible waves of the sea, closes with the words: Thy testimonies are very sure: holiness becometh thine house, O Lord, forever [Psalm 93:5].

Hence proceeds also that saying of Christ to the Samaritan woman, that her nation, along with all other peoples, worshipped they knew not what, whereas the Jews alone rendered true worship to God [John 4:22]. For, since the human mind is unable, through its imbecility, to attain to any knowledge of God without the assistance of his sacred word, all mankind, except the Jews, as they sought God without the word, must necessarily have been wandering in vanity and error.

Chapter 7. That the Testimony by Which Scripture Is to Be Sealed Is That of the Spirit: That Its Authority Should Therefore Be Certain to Us; and That the Fiction That Its Credibility Depends on the Judgment of the Church Is Impious.

1. But before proceeding further, it is worthwhile to insert some observations on the authority of Scripture, which will not only prepare minds for its reverence but also remove all doubt. Now, when it is acknowledged that the word set forth is from God, there is no one of such desperate audacity—unless utterly devoid of common sense and humanity—who would dare to call into question the faith due to the Speaker. But since divine oracles are not daily sent forth from heaven, and since only the Scriptures remain, in which it pleased the Lord to commit His truth to perpetual remembrance, they rightly enjoy full authority among the faithful, not otherwise than if they were proclaimed from heaven, as though the living voice of God Himself were heard therein.

This subject is indeed most worthy of being discussed at length and examined more carefully. But let my readers excuse me if I have greater regard for the plan of my present work than for the magnitude of the topic itself. However, a most pernicious error has gained ground among many—that Scripture has no more weight than the Church allows it, as if the eternal and inviolable truth of God depended on the will of men. Thus, with grievous mockery of the Holy Spirit, they ask: “Who shall assure us that these things have proceeded from God? Who shall guarantee that they have been safely and uncorruptedly preserved to our time? Who shall persuade us that one book is to be reverently received while another is to be rejected, unless the Church establishes a certain rule for all these things?”

Therefore, they conclude that the reverence due to Scripture, as well as the determination of which books are to be included in its canon, depends on the judgment of the Church. Thus do these sacrilegious men, while under the pretense of honoring the Church, seek to introduce an unbridled tyranny, caring nothing for the absurdities into which they ensnare both themselves and others, so long as they can wrest this one point from the simple—that the Church can do all things. But if this were true, what would become of the wretched consciences of those who seek firm assurance of eternal life, if all the promises concerning it rested solely on human judgment? Would they cease to waver and tremble upon receiving such an answer? Again, to what profane ridicule is our faith subjected, and how greatly is it brought into suspicion before all, if it is believed to depend on the indulgence of men, as though held by a precarious authority?

2. But such quibblers are beautifully refuted by a single word of the Apostle. He testifies that the Church is built upon the foundation of the Prophets and Apostles (Eph. 2:20). If, then, the doctrine of the Prophets and Apostles is the foundation of the Church, its certainty must be established before the Church itself can come into being.

Nor is there any room for their cavils, as if—even though the Church first takes its beginning from this foundation—there yet remains a doubt as to what should be ascribed to the Prophets and Apostles, unless the judgment of the Church intervenes. For if the Christian Church was originally founded upon the writings of the Prophets and the preaching of the Apostles, then wherever that doctrine is found, its authority necessarily precedes the Church’s approval—without which the Church itself could never have existed.

Therefore, the notion that the power to judge Scripture belongs to the Church, as if its certainty depended upon the Church’s decree, is utterly vain. When the Church receives it and affixes its approval, it does not thereby authenticate it as if it were otherwise doubtful or contested, but because it recognizes it to be the truth of God. Accordingly, as an act of piety, the Church venerates it without hesitation.

As for their objection, How shall we be persuaded that Scripture proceeds from God unless we rely on the decree of the Church?—it is as absurd as if one were to ask, How shall we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, sweet from bitter? For Scripture presents its truth with no less clarity than white and black do their color, or sweet and bitter their taste.

3. I know well that the statement of Augustine is commonly cited, where he says that he would not believe the Gospel unless the authority of the Church moved him (Contra Epistolam Fundament. Cap. 5). But how improperly and maliciously this is cited in that sense is easily discerned from the context. He was contending with the Manichaeans, who, without controversy, wished to be believed simply because they claimed to possess the truth without proving it. Since, in order to establish faith in Manichaeus, they appealed to the Gospel, he asks what they would do if they encountered a man who did not believe even in the Gospel—by what means would they persuade him to accept their position? Then he adds: “I, indeed, would not believe the Gospel, etc.”—indicating that, when he was still a stranger to the faith, he could only have been brought to embrace the Gospel as the certain truth of God by being overcome by the authority of the Church.

And what wonder, if someone who has not yet known Christ is moved by regard for men? Therefore, Augustine does not teach here that the faith of the godly is founded on the authority of the Church, nor does he understand that the certainty of the Gospel depends on it. Rather, he simply declares that there would be no certainty of the Gospel for unbelievers—such as would lead them to Christ—unless the consensus of the Church urged them. He further confirms this a little later, saying:

*”When I have praised that which I believe, and ridiculed that which they believe, what do you think should be our judgment and course of action, except to abandon those who invite us to know things with certainty, but afterwards command us to believe things uncertain; and to follow those who invite us first to believe what we are not yet able to see, so that, strengthened by that faith, we may at length be made worthy to understand what we believe—not now by men, but by God Himself, inwardly strengthening and enlightening our minds” (Ibid., cap. 14).

Certainly, these are Augustine’s words, from which anyone can readily gather that it was never his view to make the faith which we have in Scripture depend on the will or judgment of the Church. Rather, he merely indicates—what we ourselves also acknowledge—that those who are not yet enlightened by the Spirit of God are led to a willingness to learn by reverence for the Church, so that they may be willing to learn faith in Christ from the Gospel. Thus, in this manner, the authority of the Church is an isagoge (introduction) that prepares us for faith in the Gospel. But, as we see, he desires that the certainty of the godly be supported on a far different foundation.

I do not deny, however, that he often presses the Manichaeans with the universal consent of the Church when he seeks to establish the authority of Scripture, which they rejected. Hence, his reproach against Faustus (Lib. 32), that he did not submit to the evangelical truth—so well-founded, so established, so widely proclaimed with glory, and commended through a certain succession from the time of the Apostles. But nowhere does Augustine aim to teach that the authority which we attribute to Scripture depends on human decision or decree. Rather, he simply brings forward the universal judgment of the Church, which was of great weight in the case and gave him superiority over his adversaries.

If anyone desires fuller confirmation of this, let him read his treatise On the Usefulness of Believing, where he will find that Augustine commends no other facility of belief than that which merely opens the way for us and serves as a suitable beginning for inquiry, as he himself expresses it. Yet he maintains that we must not rest in opinion but must rely on certain and solid truth.

4. It must be held, as I recently stated ,that we are not established in the belief of the doctrine until we are indubitably persuaded that its Author is God. Therefore, the chief proof of Scripture is taken everywhere from the very person of God speaking. The Prophets and Apostles do not boast of their own sharpness of mind or of anything else that might gain faith for their words, nor do they rely on arguments; rather, they proclaim the sacred name of God, by which the whole world is compelled to obedience.

Now we must consider how it is evident, not by mere probable opinion but by clear truth, that the name of God is not invoked rashly or deceitfully. If we truly desire to provide for our consciences most effectually, so that they may not be carried about by perpetual, unstable doubt, nor waver at every slightest scruple, this persuasion must be sought from a higher source than human reasoning, judgment, or conjectures—namely, from the secret testimony of the Spirit.

It is indeed true that if one wishes to argue by means of reasons, many things could be brought forward that would easily prove that if there is a God in heaven, then the Law, the Prophets, and the Gospel have proceeded from Him. Indeed, though learned men, endowed with the highest judgment, may rise up against it and bring forth all the powers of their intellect in this debate, unless they are hardened to utter shamelessness, this confession will be extorted from them: that manifest signs of God speaking appear in Scripture, by which it is evident that its doctrine is heavenly. And soon we shall see that the sacred books of Scripture far surpass all other writings. Indeed, if we bring pure eyes and sound senses to them, the majesty of God will immediately appear, which, subduing all audacity to contradict, compels us to submit.

Yet they pervert the order of things, who seek to establish the solid faith of Scripture through disputation. Indeed, although I neither possess great dexterity nor eloquence, if I had to contend with the most cunning despisers of God—those who seek to appear clever and witty in undermining Scripture—I am confident that I would have no difficulty in silencing their noisy clamors. And if labor spent in refuting their cavils were useful, I could easily refute the idle slanders they whisper in corners.

But if someone asks how the sacred word of God is to be upheld against the blasphemies of men, let him understand that, even if it is defended, yet this alone will not inscribe upon their hearts the firm assurance that true piety requires. Since religion seems to stand only upon opinion in the eyes of profane men, they demand that it be proved by reason before they will believe that Moses and the Prophets spoke divinely. But I reply that the testimony of the Spirit surpasses all reason. For just as God alone is a sufficient witness of Himself in His word, so His word will never find faith in the hearts of men until it is sealed by the inner testimony of the Spirit.

Thus, the same Spirit who spoke through the mouths of the Prophets must also penetrate our hearts in order to persuade us that they faithfully delivered what was divinely commanded. And this connection is most fittingly set forth by Isaiah in these words: “My Spirit which is upon thee, and my words which I have put in thy mouth, shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed’s seed, from henceforth and forever” (Isaiah 59:21).

Some good men are troubled because, while the ungodly freely murmur against God’s word, no clear proof seems immediately available. As if, forsooth, it were not for this very reason that the Spirit is called both a seal and an earnest, to confirm the faith of the godly—because until He illumines minds, they always waver amidst many doubts.

5. Let this, then, remain fixed and immovable: those whom the Holy Spirit has inwardly taught rest firmly upon Scripture; that it is autopistos (self-authenticating), and that it is not lawful to subject it to proof and reasoning; yet it obtains for us the certainty it deserves through the testimony of the Spirit.

For although it spontaneously commands reverence by its own majesty, yet it truly takes hold of us only when it is sealed upon our hearts by the Spirit. Thus, being enlightened by His power, we no longer believe—whether by our own judgment or that of others—that Scripture is from God, but, rising above human judgment, we are as certainly persuaded (as if we beheld the very presence of God therein) that it has proceeded to us from His very mouth by the ministry of men. We do not seek arguments or probabilities upon which to lean our judgment; instead, as in a matter placed beyond all doubt, we subject both judgment and reason to it. This is not like those who rashly seize upon an unknown thing, only to discard it once they have examined it. We are well assured that we hold an invincible truth. Nor is it like the blind submission with which wretched men enslave their minds to superstitions; we sense the undeniable power of God working and breathing therein—a power that moves and compels us to obedience, not by mere human will or intellect, but with a force more vivid and efficacious than any human inclination or understanding.

Thus, with the highest right, God proclaims through Isaiah that the prophets, together with the whole people, are His witnesses—because, being instructed by divine oracles, they held with unshaken certainty that God had spoken without deceit or ambiguity (Isa. 43:10).

Such, then, is the persuasion that does not require reasoning; such is the knowledge that stands upon the surest foundation—one in which the mind rests more securely and immovably than in any human arguments; such, finally, is the perception that can arise from no other source than divine revelation. I speak of nothing other than what every believer inwardly experiences, except that words fall far short of fully expressing it.

For now, I pass over further discussion, since another opportunity will arise to treat this matter more fully. It is enough at present to know that true faith is that which the Spirit of God seals upon our hearts. Indeed, the modest and teachable reader will be satisfied with this alone: Isaiah promises that all the children of the renewed Church shall be taught by God (Isa. 54:13). Here, God bestows upon His elect a singular privilege, distinguishing them from the whole race of men. For what is the beginning of true doctrine but a ready willingness to hear the voice of God? And yet, God wills to be heard through the mouth of Moses, as it is written: Say not in thine heart, Who shall ascend into heaven? or, Who shall descend into the deep? Behold, the word is in thy mouth (Deut. 30:12-14). If, then, God has determined that this treasure of understanding should be laid up for His children, it is neither strange nor absurd that such ignorance and dullness is seen among the mass of men. By “the mass,” I include even the most eminent among them, until they are grafted into the body of the Church.

Moreover, Isaiah declares that not only foreigners, but even the Jews—who claimed to be of God’s own household—would find the prophetic doctrine incredible; and he adds the reason: Because the arm of the Lord shall not be revealed to all (Isa. 53:1). Therefore, whenever we are troubled by the small number of believers, let this thought come to mind: none comprehend the mysteries of God except those to whom it has been given.

Chapter 8. The Authority of Scripture Confirmed by Reason.

Unless there be a certainty superior to all human judgment, any attempt to establish the authority of Scripture—whether by arguments, the consent of the Church, or other forms of confirmation—is vain and ineffectual. If this foundation is not first laid, the authority of Scripture remains ever in suspense. Conversely, once we have reverently embraced it as being, in truth, lifted above the common lot of things and acknowledged with due reverence, those very aids which seemed inadequate before now become fitting supports for impressing its certainty more deeply upon our minds.

It is truly marvellous how much confirmation we derive when we give ourselves to closer consideration of the divine wisdom displayed in the orderly arrangement of all things contained therein—of the heavenly doctrine, everywhere breathing of God and not of earth—of the admirable harmony and mutual concord of all its parts, and other like features which so greatly conduce to the majesty of Scripture.

Even more are our hearts strengthened when we reflect that it is not the grace of language but the dignity of the subject itself which draws us into admiration. For it was by a singular providence of God that the lofty mysteries of the kingdom of heaven should, for the most part, be conveyed in a style of speech humble and unadorned—lest, had they been clothed in elegant eloquence, the ungodly should mock and say that it was the power of words that prevailed.

As it is, the plain and even rough simplicity of style awakens greater reverence than all the pomp of human eloquence could do. What, then, must we conclude, but that the power of sacred Scripture is so manifestly divine that it has no need of artifice to sustain its majesty?

It is for this reason that the Apostle declares the faith of the Corinthians to have been founded not upon human wisdom, but upon the power of God, because his preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power (1 Cor. 2:4). In truth, the authority of Scripture is made secure from all doubt when it rests not on external props, but sustains itself by its own majesty.

That this virtue is uniquely proper to Scripture is evident from the fact that no writings of men, however artfully composed, have the same power to affect us. Read Demosthenes or Cicero, read Plato, Aristotle, or any from that illustrious band: you will indeed be charmed, delighted, moved, even carried away—but compare their works with sacred Scripture, and whether you will or no, you will feel yourself gripped in a way more living, more penetrating, more lasting. It pierces the heart, lodges itself in the very marrow—and in comparison, all the brilliance of orators and philosophers fades away. Clearly then, something divine breathes in the sacred writings, something which so far surpasses all the gifts and graces of human genius that it leaves them behind by an immeasurable distance.

2. I readily grant that some of the Prophets possess a polished and elegant, even splendid style of expression—one which, in eloquence, yields not at all to secular authors. In such examples, the Holy Spirit has shown that eloquence was not lacking to him, even though in other places he chose a plain and rough manner of speech. Yet whether you read David, Isaiah, and others whose words flow with sweetness and grace, or Amos the herdsman, Jeremiah, and Zechariah, whose harsher tone bears the scent of rusticity, everywhere you will discern that majesty of the Spirit of which I spoke.

Nor am I unaware that Satan, who in many things apes God in order to insinuate himself more readily into the minds of the simple by deceptive imitation, has likewise cloaked his delusions in crude and almost barbarous language—frequently employing obsolete forms of speech—so as to hide his impostures beneath that disguise. But anyone of even moderate discernment can see how empty and foul such affectation is.

As for the Holy Scripture, however much insolent men may try to gnaw at it, it remains abundantly clear that it is filled with truths no human mind could have conceived. Let anyone examine the individual Prophets: there is not one who does not rise far above the human measure, so that those who find their doctrine tasteless must be reckoned altogether devoid of spiritual palate.

3. Others have treated this subject at great length; thus, it will suffice for the present to touch briefly on a few points which most strongly support the heart of the matter. In addition to what I have already mentioned, the very antiquity of Scripture carries no small weight. For although the Greek writers tell many tales about Egyptian theology, yet there exists no record of any religion that predates the time of Moses. Nor does Moses invent a new god, but rather he presents the eternal God—the God whom the Israelites had received by long tradition, handed down through the ages by the fathers. For what else is his purpose but to call the people back to the covenant made with Abraham?

Had he introduced something unheard of, there would have been no access for belief. Instead, it was necessary that the deliverance from the bondage in which they were held be a matter already well known and familiar—so that the mere mention of it would immediately stir their hearts. Indeed, it is likely they had also been instructed concerning the number of four hundred years.

Now let us consider: if Moses—who himself predates all other writers by so great an interval of time—nonetheless traces his doctrine back to such an ancient beginning, how far does sacred Scripture surpass all others in antiquity?

4. Unless, of course, one wishes to believe the Egyptians, who boast of extending their antiquity six thousand years before the creation of the world! But since their babble has always been a laughingstock even among the profane, there is no reason to waste effort refuting it.

Josephus, however, in his work Against Apion, cites notable testimonies from the most ancient writers, by which it may be gathered that, by the common consent of all nations, the doctrine contained in the Law had been renowned from the remotest ages, even though it had neither been widely read nor rightly understood.

Now, lest any suspicion cling to the malicious, or any excuse be left to the wicked for cavilling, God met both dangers with the best remedies. When Moses reports what Jacob had prophesied concerning his descendants—nearly three centuries before, by divine inspiration—how does he honour his own tribe? On the contrary, he marks it with eternal shame in the person of Levi: “Simeon and Levi,” he says, “are instruments of cruelty. O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united” [Gen. 49:5–6].

Surely he might have concealed that disgrace—not only out of regard for his father, but also to spare himself and his whole family from sharing in the reproach. How can he be suspected of deceit who openly records that the founder of his lineage was, by the oracle of the Holy Spirit, declared abhorrent? He seeks no private advantage, nor does he shrink from incurring disgrace in the eyes of his kinsmen, to whom this record must have been offensive.

And when he recounts the impious murmuring of Aaron, his own brother, and Miriam his sister [Num. 12:1], shall we say that he is speaking from the flesh, or rather obeying the command of the Holy Spirit?

Moreover, though he held the highest authority, why does he not at least reserve the right of the high priesthood to his own sons, but instead relegates them to an inferior place?

These are only a few drops from a great stream: but even within the Law itself there are many such evidences scattered throughout, which compel our belief—so that Moses stands without controversy as one who, like an angel of God, came down from heaven.

5. Now, indeed, all the great and wondrous miracles Moses records are so many seals affixed to sanction the Law which he delivered and taught.

Was he not taken up into the mountain in a cloud? Was he not, for forty days, withdrawn from human fellowship [Exod. 24:18]? At the very giving of the Law, did not his face shine as though illuminated by the sun [Exod. 34:29]? Did not lightning flash on every side, thunder roar across the sky, and the sound of trumpets—blown by no human mouth—resound through the air [Exod. 19:16]? When he entered the tabernacle, was he not hidden from the people’s sight by the descending cloud [Exod. 40:34]?

Was not his authority marvelously vindicated by the dreadful destruction of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, and the whole impious faction [Num. 16:24]? When he struck the rock with his rod, did it not immediately gush forth with a river of water [Num. 20:10]? Did not manna fall from heaven in answer to his prayer [Num. 11:9]?

In all these things, was not God clearly commending Moses from heaven as his undoubted prophet?

Now, if someone objects that I am presuming the truth of things still under dispute, the reply is simple: since Moses published all these events publicly, in full assembly, what room could there be for invention—when the very people who had witnessed the events with their own eyes were present?

Would he really have dared to come forward and confront the people, accusing them of unbelief, rebellion, ingratitude, and other crimes—and then boast, before their eyes, that his teaching had been confirmed by miracles which they themselves had never seen?

6. It is also well worth noting that whenever Moses recounts the miracles, he simultaneously records those incidents most apt to provoke public outcry—had there been even the slightest occasion to object. This plainly shows that the people were compelled to acquiesce, only because their own experience had more than sufficiently convinced them.

Furthermore, since the matter was too prominent to allow pagan writers freely to deny that Moses had indeed performed miracles, the father of lies suggested another slander—that these works were wrought by magical arts [Exod. 7:11]. But by what stretch of reason can a man be accused of sorcery who so strongly abhors such superstition that he commands death by stoning for anyone who so much as consults a magician or soothsayer [Lev. 20:6]?

Indeed, no imposter ever deceives by trickery without striving to captivate the crowd and win fame for himself. But what of Moses? He proclaims that he and his brother Aaron are nothing, that they merely carry out what God has commanded [Exod. 16:7]. Is this not sufficient to remove all stain of suspicion?

Now consider the miracles themselves: What sort of enchantment could cause manna to rain from heaven each day in sufficient quantity to sustain an entire people? And if anyone gathered more than the appointed portion, the ensuing rot and stench served as divine reproof for their unbelief.

Add to this that God allowed His servant to be tested by many serious trials, so that the slanders of the wicked now avail nothing. How often did the entire people rise up in proud rebellion or conspire among themselves to overthrow the holy servant of God? And who could have silenced their fury by mere sleight of hand?

The outcome plainly teaches us that by such means the doctrine of Moses was divinely ratified for all generations.

7. Moreover, consider that the preeminence assigned to the tribe of Judah in the person of the patriarch Jacob [Gen. 49:10]—who can deny that this was uttered by a prophetic spirit, especially if we bring the matter itself, confirmed by its fulfillment, before our minds? Suppose, if you will, that Moses was the first to record this prophecy—yet from the time this was written and committed to memory, some four hundred years pass before there is any mention of dominion in the tribe of Judah. After Saul is anointed king [1 Sam. 11:15], the royal power appears to reside in the tribe of Benjamin. When David is anointed by Samuel [1 Sam. 16:13], what visible grounds were there for transferring the kingship? Who would have expected a king to arise from the lowly house of a shepherd? And among his seven brothers, who would have marked out the youngest for such honor?

By what means, then, did he come to be heir to the kingdom? Can anyone seriously claim this progression was managed by human skill, industry, or wisdom—and not rather acknowledge in it the fulfillment of a heavenly prophecy?

Likewise, the obscure yet striking foretelling of the Gentiles being adopted into God’s covenant—when, nearly two thousand years later, the event was realized—does it not clearly reveal that he spoke by divine inspiration?

I pass over other prophecies, which so evidently breathe divine revelation that no sound-minded person can doubt it is God who speaks.

In short, that one song alone [Deut. 32] stands as a magnificent mirror in which God clearly manifests Himself.

8. But in the remaining Prophets, this matter appears even more clearly. I shall select only a few examples, for to gather them all would be an excessive task. In the time of Isaiah, the kingdom of Judah was at peace; indeed, some even regarded the Chaldeans as potential allies. And yet, Isaiah prophesied the destruction of the city and the exile of the people. Though at the time there may not have seemed to be sufficient proof of divine inspiration—since he was foretelling things which then appeared fantastical—those very things were eventually fulfilled. But when, along with this, he delivered oracles concerning redemption, from where shall we say they came, if not from God?

He names Cyrus [Isa. 45:1], through whom the Chaldeans would be subdued and the people restored to liberty. More than a hundred years passed after Isaiah’s prophecy before Cyrus was born—for he was born, as it is reckoned, around the hundredth year after the prophet’s death. No one at the time could have guessed that there would arise a man named Cyrus who would wage war against the Babylonians, conquer that mighty monarchy, and bring Israel’s exile to an end. This simple narration, lacking all ornament of speech—does it not plainly demonstrate that what Isaiah spoke were the sure oracles of God, not the conjectures of man?

Again, when Jeremiah, a little before the people were taken captive, declared that the time of exile would last seventy years, and foretold their eventual return and deliverance [Jer. 25:11–12], must we not confess that his tongue was guided by the Spirit of God?

Whose brazen impiety would dare deny that the authority of the Prophets was confirmed by such evidences, and that what they claimed for themselves—that their words were to be believed—was indeed fulfilled? “Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them” [Isa. 42:9].

I pass over the fact that Jeremiah and Ezekiel, though widely separated from one another, prophesied at the same time, and yet agreed in all their declarations as if each had dictated to the other.

And what of Daniel? Did he not, nearly six hundred years in advance, prophesy of future events with such precision that it is as though he were writing a history of well-known facts?

If godly minds would only meditate closely on these things, they would be abundantly equipped to silence the barking of wicked men—for this demonstration is clearer than to be shaken by any cavils.

9. I know well what certain shameless knaves mutter in corners, striving to parade their cleverness by assaulting the truth of God. For they ask, “Who assured us that these writings, bearing the names of Moses and the Prophets, were truly composed by them?” Indeed, they even dare to question whether there ever was such a man as Moses. But if anyone were to doubt whether there ever existed a Plato, or an Aristotle, or a Cicero, who would not say such madness deserves to be beaten with fists or scourged with whips?

The Law of Moses was preserved, not so much by the diligence of men, as by the wondrous providence of heaven. And though for a brief time it lay buried through the negligence of the priests—until pious King Josiah found it [2 Kings 22:8]—yet through the unbroken succession of ages it was always in the hands of the people. Nor did Josiah present it as something novel or previously unknown, but as what had always been publicly known and widely remembered. A copy of the original volume had been dedicated to the Temple, and a duplicate had been deposited in the royal archives. The only thing that had happened was this: the priests had ceased to proclaim the Law in the usual public manner, and the people themselves had grown negligent in its ordinary reading.

Moreover, scarcely an age passed without the sanction of the Law being renewed and confirmed. Was Moses unknown to those who trained David? To speak of them all together, it is most certain that these writings have come down to us only as they were handed, as it were, from hand to hand in a continual course of years—passed down by the fathers, who either had heard the Prophets themselves speak, or learned what they had said from those whose memory was still fresh with the sound of their voice.

10. Indeed, the objection drawn from the history of the Maccabees to weaken the authority of Scripture is of such a nature that nothing could better serve to establish its credibility. But first, let us dispel the appearance they present; then, we shall turn the very engine they have raised against us back upon them.

They say, “Since Antiochus ordered all the books to be burned [1 Macc. 1:59], how did the copies we now possess survive?” I ask in return—where, then, was the workshop in which they were so quickly forged? For it is certain that soon after the rage subsided, the books immediately reappeared, and were recognized without dispute by all the godly, who had been trained in their doctrine and knew them intimately. Furthermore, although all the ungodly, as if in conspiracy, treated the Jews with savage scorn, none ever dared accuse them of fabricating these books. For, however they may have judged the Jewish religion, even its enemies always admitted Moses to be the true author of the Law.

What, then, do these barking fools reveal, if not a brutish and more-than-doglike obstinacy, when they pretend these books were forged, though the sacred antiquity of them is confirmed by the united witness of all history?

But rather than waste time refuting such rotten calumnies, let us instead consider how great was the Lord’s care in preserving His Word: that He delivered it, against all hope, out of the cruelty of that most savage tyrant, as from a present fire; that He so strengthened the pious priests and others with constancy that they did not hesitate, if need be, to preserve this treasure even at the cost of their lives; that He frustrated the fiercest search of governors and guards alike. Who would not recognize in this the remarkable and singular work of God?—that those sacred records, which the ungodly were convinced had perished utterly, soon returned, as though by right of restoration, and indeed with greater honour than before.

For this was followed by the Greek translation, which spread the Scriptures throughout the whole world. The miracle did not consist merely in God vindicating the tablets of His covenant from the bloody decrees of Antiochus, but also in this—that through so many disasters, by which the Jewish nation was continually worn down, ravaged, and almost annihilated, those sacred books remained safe and undestroyed.

The Hebrew language had not only fallen into obscurity, but had almost disappeared. Indeed, had not God been pleased to preserve religion, the language itself would have utterly perished. For since the Jews’ return from exile, they had declined from the true use of their native tongue—as is evident from the prophets of that period—which is worth noting, for it highlights by contrast the antiquity of the Law and the Prophets.

And by whom has God preserved for us the doctrine of salvation contained in the Law and the Prophets, so that Christ might be revealed in due time? By the very enemies of Christ Himself—the Jews. With good reason, therefore, Augustine calls them the librarians of the Christian Church, for they handed down to us the books, though they themselves had no use of them.

11. Now, if we turn to the New Testament, upon what firm foundations does its truth rest! The history is told by three Evangelists in a plain and lowly style, which many proud souls find distasteful—precisely because they give no heed to the chief doctrines, by which it might easily be gathered that they speak of heavenly mysteries beyond all human comprehension. Indeed, anyone possessed of a drop of honest shame will blush upon reading the first chapter of Luke.

Then the discourses of Christ, briefly summarized by those three Evangelists, lift their writings far above the contempt of scoffers. But John, thundering from the heights, strikes down obstinate hearts with force greater than any lightning bolt, compelling belief by the sheer majesty of his voice. Let all those sharp-nosed critics come forth—those who delight in rooting reverence for Scripture out of their own hearts and those of others—let them read the Gospel of John. Willing or unwilling, they will find in it a thousand sayings that will at least awaken their sluggishness—indeed, that will sear their consciences with a dreadful cautery to restrain their profane laughter.

The same holds true for the writings of Paul and Peter. Though many are blind to their meaning, the very majesty of heaven binds all readers to them, as though by chains. But nothing so raises their doctrine above the world as this—that Matthew, once tied to his tax bench, Peter and John, once labouring in their fishing boats, men of no education and coarse speech, had learned nothing from the schools of men that they could pass on to others. And Paul—who was not only a professed enemy but also a savage and bloodthirsty persecutor—was made a new man, and by a sudden and unlooked-for change compelled by divine power to proclaim the doctrine he once fought to destroy.

Let these dogs deny, if they will, that the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles, or reject the truth of the story altogether—yet the very facts cry out plainly that they were taught by the Spirit. For those who were once scorned as the lowest of the people suddenly began to speak of the mysteries of heaven with such magnificence that no other explanation suffices.

12. Moreover, there are also other excellent reasons why the consent of the Church ought not to be deemed without weight.

Surely it is no small matter that, ever since the Scriptures were first published, the wills of so many successive ages have steadily consented in obedience to them. Though Satan—with all the world at his side—has by countless means attempted either to suppress them, or to overthrow them, or to bury them entirely into oblivion, yet they have always, like the palm tree, risen higher under pressure and remained unconquered.

Indeed, hardly any man of outstanding intellect—be he sophist or rhetorician—has failed to bend his efforts against them. Yet all such efforts have come to nothing. The whole power of the world has armed itself for their destruction, and all such endeavors have vanished like smoke.

How could writings so violently attacked on every side have withstood, unless upheld by more than human aid? Rather, this very resistance proves they are from God—that, though every human effort has resisted, they have nevertheless prevailed by their own divine strength.

Add to this also: it was not one city, nor a single people, that conspired to receive and embrace them. But across the breadth of the world—throughout diverse nations which otherwise had nothing in common—the Scriptures obtained their authority through a holy and unified submission.

And while such agreement among minds otherwise so diverse and discordant ought deeply to move us—since it can be attributed to nothing but the divine governance of heaven—yet it gains even greater weight when we behold the piety of those who so agreed. Not the piety of all, to be sure, but of those whom the Lord willed to shine as lights within His Church.

13. And with what confidence ought we to embrace that doctrine which we see sealed and confirmed by the blood of so many holy men?

They, having once received it, did not hesitate to meet death courageously and without fear—indeed, with great readiness and joy. Shall we, to whom it has been handed down with such a pledge, receive it with anything less than full and unwavering conviction?

Surely it is no small commendation of Scripture that it was sealed with the blood of so many witnesses—especially when we reflect that they laid down their lives not in some frenzied zeal, as unstable spirits are wont to do, but with a firm, constant, and sober fervour for God.

There are also many other reasons—not few nor without weight—by which the dignity and majesty of Scripture are not only asserted in the hearts of the godly, but also splendidly defended against the schemes of calumniators. Yet none of these, by themselves, are sufficient to establish a firm faith, until the heavenly Father reveals its authority by His Spirit, thereby removing every doubt.

Therefore, Scripture will truly yield the saving knowledge of God only when its certainty has been founded upon the inward persuasion of the Holy Spirit. The testimonies of men, though not without value for confirming it, will be of no use unless they follow as subordinate aids to our weakness, and not as the primary foundation.

Foolish, then, are they who seek to prove to unbelievers that Scripture is the Word of God—for that cannot be known except by faith. Rightly, therefore, does Augustine say that piety and a peaceable mind must go before, if man is to grasp anything concerning such high matters. [De Utilitate Credendi]

Chapter 9. All the Principles of Piety Are Overthrown by the Fanatics Who, Setting Aside Scripture, Fly Over to Revelations

1. Now those who, rejecting Scripture, imagine some other path to penetrate to God, are not so much to be thought merely in error as utterly mad.

For certain frenzied spirits have lately arisen who, with unbearable arrogance, boast of being taught by the Spirit alone and therefore scorn all reading of the Scripture. They ridicule the simplicity of those who, as they say, still follow the “dead and killing letter.”

But I would like to ask them: who is this spirit by whose inspiration they rise to such lofty heights that they dare to look down upon the teaching of Scripture as childish and base?

If they answer that it is the Spirit of Christ, their assurance is laughably absurd. For surely they will admit that the apostles of Christ, and the faithful in the early church, were enlightened by the very same Spirit.

Yet not one of them learned from that illumination to despise the Word of God. On the contrary, each was rather filled with greater reverence for it, as their writings most clearly attest.

Indeed, it had been prophesied through the mouth of Isaiah that this would be so. When he says, “My Spirit that is upon thee, and my words which I have put in thy mouth shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy seed… for ever” [Isa. 59:21], he is not binding the ancient people to an external form of teaching as if they were immature children. Rather, he is declaring the true and full blessedness of the new church under the reign of Christ—that it would be governed no less by the Word of God than by His Spirit.

Hence, it is a profane sacrilege when these mist-veiled fanatics attempt to tear apart what the prophet has joined with an inviolable bond.

Add to this what Paul says: although caught up to the third heaven, he nonetheless continued to grow in the knowledge of the Law and the Prophets. Likewise, he exhorts Timothy, that excellent teacher, to “give attention to reading” [1 Tim. 4:13].

And what a remarkable commendation he gives to Scripture when he declares it “profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete” [2 Tim. 3:16–17].

What diabolical madness, then, it is to pretend that the use of Scripture is temporary or fading, when it leads the children of God all the way to their final goal?

I would also like them to answer this: have they received a different spirit from the one Christ promised His disciples? Though they are afflicted with extreme insanity, I hardly believe they are so far gone as to make such a claim.

But what kind of Spirit did the Lord promise? One who would “not speak of himself,” but would “bring to remembrance all things whatsoever I have said unto you” [John 16:13].

Thus, the office of the Spirit promised to us is not to invent new and unheard-of revelations, nor to forge a new doctrine that leads us away from the Gospel received—but rather to seal upon our hearts the very doctrine that the Gospel commends.

2. From this it is easily understood that Scripture must be diligently applied to, both in reading and in hearing, if anyone wishes to receive any benefit from the Spirit of God—just as Peter commends the zeal of those who give heed to the prophetic word, even though it might seem to have yielded place after the rising of the gospel light (2 Pet. 1:19). On the contrary, if any spirit proposes to us a doctrine apart from or beyond the wisdom of the Word of God, he is justly to be suspected of vanity and falsehood.

For what else should we think? Since Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, what authority can any spirit have with us unless he be discerned by a sure mark? And indeed, the voice of the Lord has clearly given us that mark—unless these poor wretches willfully desire to perish by erring from it, seeking the Spirit in themselves rather than from Him.

Yet they complain that it is unworthy of the Spirit of God—that Spirit to whom all things are subject—to be subject to Scripture. As though it were some dishonour to the Holy Spirit to be always like Himself, consistent in all things, and never to contradict Himself. If He were judged according to a human or angelic rule, or any rule foreign to Himself, then perhaps He could be said to be subordinated or, if one prefers, enslaved. But when He is compared with Himself—considered in Himself—who will say that this imposes any injury upon Him?

Indeed, He is brought to the test—I grant it. But for what purpose? That He might establish His majesty among us. It ought to be enough for us that, as soon as He manifests Himself to us, He wills to be recognised in the image which He has impressed upon the Scriptures. He is the author of the Scriptures—therefore He cannot be unlike or contrary to Himself. However once He has made Himself known therein, it is fitting that He remain always the same. This is no insult to Him—unless perhaps we suppose it honourable that He should depart from Himself and degenerate.

3. As for their sneer that we are fixated upon a “killing letter,” they do but suffer the penalty for their contempt of Scripture. For it is well known that Paul in that place (2 Cor. 3:6) is contending against false apostles, who, in commending the Law apart from Christ, were turning the people away from the benefit of the New Testament—in which the Lord covenants to engrave His Law upon the inward parts of the faithful and write it upon their hearts.

Therefore, the letter is dead, and the Law of the Lord becomes deadly to its readers, where it is severed from the grace of Christ and resounds only in the ears without touching the heart. But if it is effectively impressed upon the heart by the Spirit—if it reveals Christ—then it is the word of life, converting the soul and making wise the simple, and so forth.

Indeed, in the same passage, the Apostle calls his preaching “the ministry of the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:8), clearly signifying that the Holy Spirit so clings to His own truth as expressed in the Scriptures, that He exerts His power only where due reverence and dignity is accorded to the Word.

This in no way contradicts what was said earlier: that the Word in itself is not fully certain to us unless confirmed by the testimony of the Spirit. For the Lord has joined together the assurance of His Word and Spirit in a mutual bond—so that the solid religion of the Word might be established in our hearts when the Spirit shines forth and makes us to behold the face of God therein; and so that, in turn, we may embrace the Spirit without fear of delusion, when we recognize Him in His own image—that is, in the Word.

Indeed, God did not put forward His Word before men as a transient display, only to annul it at once by the coming of His Spirit. Rather, He sent the same Spirit by whose power the Word was administered, so that He might complete His work through the effectual confirmation of that Word.

Thus did Christ open the understanding of the two disciples (Luke 24:27)—not that they might dispense with the Scriptures and understand apart from them, but that they might rightly comprehend the Scriptures. In like manner, when Paul exhorts the Thessalonians not to quench the Spirit (1 Thess. 5:19–20), he does not elevate them to vague speculations without the Word, but immediately adds, “Do not despise prophecies.” By this, it is plainly implied that the light of the Spirit is extinguished whenever prophecy—that is, the Word—is brought into contempt.

And what then shall we say of those arrogant enthusiasts, who account it the height of illumination to securely cast aside the Word of God, and to seize, as boldly as they do rashly, whatever dreams they have conjured in their sleep?

Surely the children of God are called to a far different sobriety. For as they see themselves to be utterly bereft of all light of truth without the Spirit of God, so they know well that the Word is the very instrument by which the Lord dispenses the illumination of His Spirit to the faithful. They acknowledge no other Spirit than He who dwelled in and spoke through the Apostles—and whose oracles continually call them back to the hearing of the Word.

Chapter 10.
That Scripture, in correcting all superstition, sets the true God exclusively against all the gods of the Gentiles.

1. Now, since we have already shown that the knowledge of God, which is indeed displayed in the structure of the world and in all created things, is yet made more familiar and clear in the Word, it is worthwhile now to consider whether the Lord presents Himself to us in Scripture in the same character as that which we previously discerned in His works.

It is, without question, a vast subject—should one choose to treat it thoroughly. But I shall be content to offer a summary, that pious minds, being directed to what is most worthy of inquiry concerning God, may pursue their search in Scripture with a steady aim and purpose.

At this point, I do not yet touch upon that peculiar covenant by which God set apart the seed of Abraham from the rest of the nations. For in receiving into sonship those who were His enemies by free adoption, the Redeemer already appeared. But for now, we remain within that knowledge of God which pertains to the creation of the world and does not yet rise to Christ as Mediator.

Nevertheless, a little later, it will be useful to cite certain passages from the New Testament—since even from them, the power of God as Creator, and His providence in the preservation of the created order, may be proven. I only wish to forewarn the reader of my present purpose, that he might not exceed the bounds here laid down. It is sufficient at this stage to grasp how God, the Maker of heaven and earth, governs the world He has created.

Throughout Scripture, His fatherly goodness is frequently celebrated, as well as His will inclined to beneficence. But it also furnishes examples of His severity, which declare that He is a just avenger of iniquities—especially when His longsuffering produces no repentance in the obstinate.

2. In certain passages, Scripture offers us more distinct descriptions, by which the true face of God is set before us in living form (εἰκονικῶς) and made more clearly visible. For when Moses described Him, he seems to have intended to sum up in brief whatever it is lawful for man to understand concerning God. “Jehovah, Jehovah, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abundant in steadfast love and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet who will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children and the children’s children” (Exodus 34:6).

Here we must observe how His eternity and self-existence are magnificently declared in the repeated name Jehovah. Then follow those attributes by which He is made known to us—not as He is in Himself, but as He is towards us—so that our knowledge of Him may consist not in empty or speculative notions, but in living and experiential awareness. The same virtues, indeed, are here recounted that we previously observed shining forth in heaven and earth: His clemency, goodness, mercy, justice, judgment, and truth. His power and might, moreover, are signified under the name Elohim.

The Prophets likewise ascribe these same titles to Him when they desire to glorify His holy Name to the full. To avoid burdening the reader with too much at once, let one Psalm suffice for now—Psalm 145—where the total sum of all His virtues is so exactly rehearsed that nothing seems to be omitted. And yet, all that is there expressed can also be contemplated in the created order. Thus, we come to know God, by the guidance of experience, as He reveals Himself in His Word.

In Jeremiah, though the description is not as full, it reaches the same point when the Lord proclaims how He wishes to be known: “Let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth Me, that I am the Lord who exercises mercy, judgment, and righteousness in the earth” (Jeremiah 9:24).

These three qualities are especially necessary for us to know: Mercy, by which alone our salvation stands; Judgment, which is exercised daily upon the wicked and shall come upon them more severely unto eternal destruction; and Righteousness, by which the faithful are preserved and tenderly sustained. When these are understood, the Prophet affirms, one has sufficient knowledge to glory in God.

Yet this is not to say that His truth, power, holiness, or goodness are thereby ignored. For how would that knowledge of justice, mercy, and judgment be stable, unless founded upon His unchangeable truth? And how could it be believed that He governs the earth in justice and righteousness unless His power were known? Whence else, but from His goodness, comes His mercy? And if all His ways are mercy, judgment, and righteousness, then His holiness also shines through them.

Moreover, the knowledge of God presented to us in Scripture is directed to the same end as that which is impressed upon creation: namely, that it might lead us first to fear God, then to place our trust in Him—so that we may learn to worship Him with a pure life and sincere obedience, wholly dependent on His goodness.

3. But here our aim is to summarise the chief points of the general doctrine. Let readers first observe that Scripture, in order to direct us to the true God, expressly excludes and rejects all the gods of the Gentiles—because in nearly every age, religion has been universally corrupted. It is true, indeed, that the name of one God was everywhere known and celebrated. For even those who worshipped a vast multitude of gods, whenever they spoke out of the genuine sense of nature, used the name God simply, as if they were content with one. This was wisely observed by Justin Martyr, who wrote a treatise On the Monarchy of God to this very end, wherein he shows by many testimonies that the unity of God was engraved upon the hearts of all. Tertullian likewise proves the same point from common speech.

Yet because all men, through vanity—either drawn or fallen—turned aside to false inventions, the sense they naturally held of the one God proved of no further value than to render them inexcusable. Even their wisest thinkers disclose the wandering error of their minds when they wish for some god to be near them and thus offer their prayers to uncertain deities. Moreover, by imagining a divided nature in God—although less absurdly than the ignorant masses, who believed in Jupiter, Mercury, Venus, Minerva, and others—they too were not free from the deceits of Satan. And, as we have elsewhere said, all the clever evasions contrived by the philosophers do not excuse them from the guilt of defection, for the truth of God was corrupted by all.

For this reason, Habakkuk, having condemned all idols, commands that God be sought in His temple (Habakkuk 2:20), so that the faithful might admit no other than He who had revealed Himself by His Word.

Chapter 11.
To Attribute a Visible Form to God is Blasphemy, and All Who Erect Idols Defect from the True God

1. Now, whereas Scripture, in consideration of the crude and gross understanding of men, is wont to speak popularly when it seeks to distinguish the true God from false gods, it sets Him most often in opposition to idols. This is not because it approves what the philosophers have more subtly or elegantly devised, but rather to more plainly expose the folly—and indeed madness—of the world in its search for God, so long as each man cleaves to his own speculations.

The exclusive definition, therefore, so frequently repeated in Scripture, utterly annuls whatever men fabricate in their own opinion concerning divinity; for God alone is a fit witness to Himself.

Meanwhile, seeing this brutish stupor has overtaken the whole world—that they longed to behold God in visible form, and thus fashioned deities out of wood, stone, gold, silver, or other corruptible and dead matter—we must hold fast this principle: that the glory of God is profaned by a wicked lie whenever any form is ascribed to Him.

Thus, in the Law, after asserting for Himself alone the glory of Deity, when He would instruct us what manner of worship He approves or rejects, He immediately adds: “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, nor any likeness of any thing” (Exodus 20:4). By these words He restrains our license, forbidding us to represent Him by any visible shape whatsoever; and He briefly enumerates those very forms by which superstition had long since begun to turn the truth of God into a lie.

We know, for instance, that the sun was worshipped by the Persians; and as many stars as the ignorant Gentiles beheld in the heavens, so many gods did they imagine. Nearly every creature, indeed, was taken by the Egyptians as a form of deity. The Greeks, who were thought to excel all others in wisdom, were pleased to worship God under the form of man (as Maximus of Tyre, the Platonist observes in Sermon 38).

But God does not weigh these images one against another, as though one might be more fitting and another less so: rather, He rejects without exception all idols, pictures, and symbols by which the superstitious imagined Him to be made near.

2. This is easily gathered from the reasons which God appends to His prohibition. First, as recorded by Moses: “Take ye therefore good heed unto yourselves, for ye saw no manner of similitude on the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb… lest ye corrupt yourselves, and make you a graven image, the similitude of any figure” (Deut. 4:15–16). Here, God plainly opposes His voice to every visible form, that we might understand that all who seek to fashion visible representations of Him depart from the true God.

From among the prophets, one witness suffices—Isaiah, who above all others speaks at length on this matter, showing how the majesty of God is defiled by an unworthy and absurd fiction when He who is incorporeal is likened to corporeal matter, the invisible to a visible idol, the spiritual to lifeless substance, the immeasurable to a tiny fragment of wood, stone, or gold (cf. Isa. 40:18; 41:7, 29; 45:9; 46:5).

To the same effect argues Paul: “Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device” (Acts 17:29). From this it clearly follows that whatever images are erected or painted to represent God are wholly displeasing to Him, being profane insults to His majesty.

And what wonder if the Holy Spirit thunder forth these oracles from heaven, when even miserable and blind idolaters are driven to utter similar confessions on earth? Notable is that complaint of Seneca, cited by Augustine: “They dedicate sacred, immortal, and inviolable gods in the vilest and basest of materials, and give to them the likeness of men and of beasts. Some are of mixed sex, or of diverse bodies—and they call these deities, which, if animated and made to move among men, would be deemed monsters” (City of God, Bk. VI, ch. 10).

From this again it is manifest how vain is the excuse of image-worship’s defenders, who claim that such representations were forbidden to the Jews only, because of their inclination to superstition. As if that which God declares on the basis of His eternal essence and the perpetual order of nature applied only to one nation! And in any case, Paul was not addressing Jews but Athenians, when he refuted their error in imagining God by means of images.

3. God indeed sometimes manifested the presence of His majesty through certain visible signs, so that it was said He was seen “face to face”; yet all the signs which He ever employed were aptly suited to the purpose of teaching, and at the same time openly warned men of His incomprehensible essence. The cloud, the smoke, the flame—though symbols of heavenly glory—served as bridles to restrain the minds of all from attempting to penetrate further than they ought (cf. Deut. 4:11).

Thus even Moses, to whom above all others God revealed Himself most intimately, when he prayed to behold that glory, received this reply: “Thou canst not see my face: for there shall no man see me, and live” (Exod. 33:20).

The Holy Spirit appeared once in the form of a dove (Matt. 3:16), yet vanished immediately—clearly showing that this symbol was only momentary, meant to remind the faithful that the Spirit is to be believed invisible, and that His power and grace alone should satisfy us, lest we seek to invent any external form.

As for those times when God appeared under the form of a man, such instances were a foreshadowing of His future revelation in Christ. Therefore, it was by no means lawful for the Jews to abuse this as a pretext to fashion an image of the Deity in human form.

Even the mercy seat, from which God manifested His power under the Law, was constructed in such a manner as to suggest that the best vision of God is found when the soul is lifted above itself in holy admiration. The cherubim stretched forth their wings over it, a veil concealed it, and its very location—hidden in the innermost sanctuary—was sufficient to indicate its mystery (cf. Exod. 25:17–21).

It is therefore sheer madness—scarcely needing refutation—for anyone to defend their images of God or the saints by appealing to the example of the cherubim. For what, I ask, was the meaning of those figures, except to show that no image is suitable to represent God’s mysteries? They were so formed as to cover the mercy seat with their wings, to prevent not only the eyes of men but all their senses from beholding God, and so to correct the presumption of human curiosity.

To this agree the prophets, who depict seraphim in vision as covering their faces (Isa. 6:2), signifying that such is the brightness of divine glory that even the angels dare not look directly upon it; and that the faint glimmerings of glory which appear in them are veiled from our sight.

Moreover, all who judge rightly acknowledge that the cherubim here referred to belonged to the old pedagogy of the Law, and thus to draw them forth as examples for our own age is utterly absurd. For that childish age, if I may so speak, has passed away, and those rudiments no longer apply (Gal. 4:1–3).

And indeed, it is a shame that profane writers should prove better interpreters of God’s Law than the Papists. Juvenal mocks the Jews, accusing them of worshipping pure clouds and the god of the sky (Sat. 14.97–104). Impious though his jest was, yet he speaks more truthfully in denying that the Jews fashioned any visible image of God than the Papists do, who prattle about God having had some visible form.

And as for the people’s continual and headlong rush toward idolatry, bursting forth like waters from a high fountain, let us learn rather from this how deeply rooted is our own nature’s propensity toward idolatry—lest, in blaming the Jews for a sin that is common to us all, we be lulled by vain excuses into a deadly slumber under the allurements of sin.

4. To the same purpose is that Scripture: “The idols of the nations are silver and gold, the work of men’s hands” (Ps. 115:4; 135:15). For the Prophet gathers from the very material that these are not gods, whose images are of silver and gold; and he takes it as a settled point that whatever man conceives of God by his own senses is a tasteless fiction. He names gold and silver rather than clay or stone, that neither the brightness nor the value of the metal might win reverence for idols. Yet he concludes generally that nothing could be more improbable than to suppose gods can be fashioned out of dead matter.

Meanwhile, he presses the matter further, denouncing the outrageous presumption of mortals who, though they draw their frail breath moment by moment by mere permission, yet dare to confer the honor of God upon idols. Man is compelled to confess that he is a creature of a day, and yet he would have a piece of metal, whose origin lies in his own imagination, to be acknowledged as God. And where do idols come from, if not from the will of man?

The mockery of that profane poet is altogether just:

“Once I was a fig-tree log, a useless piece of wood;
A craftsman was uncertain whether to make me a bench…
But chose instead to make me a god.”
(Horace, Satires I.8)

A laughable absurdity: a frail creature of dust, whose breath leaves him nearly every moment, dares by his own handiwork to ascribe the name and honor of God to a lifeless stump.

But because that Epicurean, in jesting so wittily, gave no heed to religion, let us pass over his and others’ taunts. Rather, let the Prophet’s rebuke pierce and wound us: that they are senseless beyond measure, who take a piece of wood—of which they burn one part to warm themselves, bake bread, or roast meat—and of the same material form a god, before which they fall prostrate in prayer (cf. Isa. 44:12–20).

Elsewhere, he does not only condemn them by the Law, but reproaches them for not having learned from the foundations of the earth (Isa. 40:21). For what could be less reasonable than to imagine that God, who is infinite and incomprehensible, could be confined to a measure of five feet?

And yet this monstrosity—so plainly repugnant to the order of nature—is shown by custom to be natural to men.

Moreover, we must hold fast that the frequent Scriptural phrase, “the work of men’s hands”, refers to all forms of superstition—meaning that they lack the authority of God (Isa. 2:8; 31:7; 57:10; Hos. 14:3; Mic. 5:13). From this it must be fixed in our minds that every form of worship devised by men themselves is detestable.

The Prophet further heightens the madness in the Psalm, when he says that men seek help from dead and senseless things, though they themselves have understanding precisely so that they might know that all things move by God’s power alone.

And since both peoples and individuals are carried by their corrupt nature into such madness, the Spirit at last thunders a dreadful curse: “They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them” (Ps. 115:8).

It must also be noted that not only is the graven image forbidden, but also the likeness—a point which utterly refutes the foolish caution of the Greeks. They flatter themselves that they are innocent so long as they do not sculpt God in stone, while in paintings they indulge with more shamelessness than any other nation.

Yet the Lord forbids His image to be formed not only by sculptors, but by any artist whatsoever—because any such attempt wrongly assimilates God, and does so with contempt for His majesty.

5. I am well aware that the saying is widely known, and more than worn out by now: “Images are the books of the unlearned.” This was said by Gregory. But the Spirit of God, whose school is alone trustworthy, declares far otherwise—and had Gregory been rightly taught in this matter by that Spirit, he never would have spoken so.

For when Jeremiah declares that “the doctrine of vanities is but a tree” (Jer. 10:3), and when Habakkuk teaches that “the molten image is a teacher of lies” (Hab. 2:18), surely from this we must gather a general doctrine: that whatever men have learned about God from images is both futile and false.

If someone replies that the prophets rebuked only those who abused images for impious superstition, I grant that is true—but I also add, as anyone may plainly see, that the prophets utterly condemn the very thing which the Papists now uphold as an unshakable axiom: that images are the books of the unlearned.

For they oppose idols to the true God as if these were contrary things—mutually exclusive, never able to agree together. This, I say, is the comparison laid down in the very passages I cited earlier: while the one true God, whom the Jews worshipped, is rightly known and adored, it is altogether false and wicked to forge visible figures to represent Him; and all those who seek knowledge of God through such images are miserably deceived.

Indeed, if things were otherwise, the prophets would not have so universally condemned any knowledge of God drawn from images as deceptive and adulterated. At the very least, I claim this: when we teach that it is vanity and a lie to attempt to represent God by images, we are doing nothing other than repeating word for word what the prophets have handed down.

6. Let the writings of Lactantius and Eusebius also be read on this matter, both of whom confidently assert as a settled point that all whose images are to be seen were mere mortals. Likewise Augustine, who unhesitatingly pronounces it a wickedness not only to worship images, but to place them alongside God.

Nor is he saying anything different from what had already been decreed many years before in the Council of Elvira, whose thirty-sixth canon is this: “It has been resolved that pictures ought not to be in churches, lest what is venerated or worshipped be painted on the walls.”

But most memorable of all is that which the same Augustine, quoting Varro elsewhere and endorsing it with his own affirmation, records: “Those who first introduced images of the gods both removed fear and added error.”⁴ [Civ. Dei, Book 4, chs. 9, 31]. If Varro alone had said this, perhaps it might carry little weight. Yet it ought rightly to strike shame into us, that a pagan man, as though groping in darkness, came to such a clear conclusion—that corporeal images are unworthy of the majesty of God, for they diminish reverence and increase error among men.

Indeed, the thing itself proves this to be no less true than wise: but Augustine, borrowing from Varro, speaks as if from his own judgment. First, he warns that the earliest errors about God, by which men became entangled, did not begin with images—but that a new layer of corruption was added when images came. Next, he explains that the fear of God is therefore diminished—or even destroyed—because His divine majesty is easily despised when expressed in the absurd and foolish form of idols.

Would that we did not find by experience how true this is. Let every one, therefore, who desires to be rightly instructed, learn about God from somewhere other than from images.

7. If therefore the Papists have any shame, let them no longer resort to that subterfuge—that images are the books of the ignorant—for it is so plainly refuted by many testimonies of Scripture. Yet even if I were to concede this to them, they would still gain little in defending their idols. What sort of monstrosities they thrust upon us as representations of God is well known.

As for the pictures and statues which they claim to be of saints, what are they if not examples of the most shameless luxury and obscenity? If anyone were to attempt to depict such figures from real life, he would be worthy of the whip. In truth, brothels portray their harlots more modestly and chastely than the temples portray those they pretend to be virgins. Nor are the depictions of the martyrs any more honourable.

Let them then at least compose their idols with some measure of decency, that they might lie a little more modestly in pretending these are books of holiness. But even then, we will reply that this is not the method ordained in sacred places for instructing the faithful—whom God wills to be taught by a very different doctrine than such vain songs and fables.

In the preaching of His Word and in the holy mysteries, He has commanded that the common doctrine be set forth to all. And clearly those fail to give due attention to it, whose eyes wander to behold idols.

So, those whom the Papists call idiots—the ignorant, whom they claim can only be taught through images—these are the very ones whom the Lord acknowledges as His disciples; those whom He deigns to instruct by the revelation of His heavenly philosophy, and whom He wills to be educated in the saving mysteries of His kingdom.

Indeed, I admit that as things stand, there are many today who seem incapable of doing without such “books.” But whence, I ask, arises this dullness, except from being deprived of the only doctrine fit to form them rightly? For it was for no other reason that the pastors of churches delegated the task of teaching to idols, except that they themselves were mute.

Paul testifies that Christ is depicted and, in a manner, crucified before our eyes through the true preaching of the Gospel [Gal. 3:1].

Why then is it necessary to set up so many crosses in temples—of wood, of stone, of silver, of gold—if the people were rightly and faithfully taught that Christ died to bear our curse upon the cross, to expiate our sins by the sacrifice of His body, to cleanse us by His blood, and, finally, to reconcile us to God the Father?

From this one truth alone, they would learn more than from a thousand wooden or stone crosses; indeed, it may be that covetous minds fix their eyes more greedily upon the golden or silver crosses than upon any words of God.

8. Moreover, concerning the origin of idols, it is almost universally accepted what is recorded in the book of Wisdom: namely, that the first authors of them were those who rendered divine honour to the dead, in order to preserve their memory by a superstitious observance [Wisdom 14:15].

Indeed, I confess that this corrupt practice is of the most ancient kind, and I do not deny that it was the torch that most inflamed the madness of men toward idolatry. Yet I do not grant that it was the first source of the evil. For it is evident from Moses that idols were already in use before ambition had grown to the point of consecrating images of the dead—a practice of which the pagan writers often make mention.

When Rachel is said to have stolen the idols of her father [Gen. 31:19], Moses speaks of it as a common vice, as if something well known and widespread. From this we may gather that the mind of man is, so to speak, a perpetual forge of idols.

The Flood had brought about, as it were, a new world; and yet not many years passed before men—according to their own desire—began again to invent gods for themselves. It is even credible that while the holy patriarch Noah still lived, his descendants gave themselves to idolatry, so that with his own eyes he witnessed the earth being defiled with idols, not long after it had been purged of its corruptions by God’s terrible judgment.

Indeed, Terah and Nahor were already worshippers of false gods before Abraham was born, as Joshua testifies [Josh. 24:2]. If the descendants of Shem—so soon after the judgment—turned away, what can we suppose of the offspring of Ham, who had long since been cursed in their father?

This is, in truth, the case: the mind of man, being full of pride and audacity, dares to imagine God according to its own capacity. And as it is dull and overwhelmed with gross ignorance, it conceives an empty and vain image in place of God. To these evils is added yet further wickedness: namely, that man strives to express outwardly in work the kind of god he has imagined inwardly. Thus, the mind begets the idol; the hand brings it forth.

This, then, is the true origin of idolatry: that men do not believe God to be near unless He makes Himself carnal to their senses, and thus give way to carnal symbols of His presence. This is demonstrated by the example of the Israelites [Ex. 32:1].

“We know not,” they said, “what has become of this Moses. Make us gods to go before us.” They knew indeed that there was a God, whose power they had seen displayed in many miracles. Yet they did not believe He was near to them unless they beheld some bodily sign of His presence, a visible token to assure them of His continued guidance. And so, they desired an image going before them, by which they might know that God was leading them.

This daily experience confirms: the flesh is ever restless until it finds some image like itself, by which it may vainly comfort itself as with the presence of God. In almost every age since the foundation of the world, men—yielding to this blind craving—have erected outward signs, in which they fancied God to be visibly present before their carnal eyes.

9. Such a fiction is immediately followed by worship. For as soon as men suppose that they behold God in images, they likewise worship Him there. At last, being wholly fixed in both soul and eyes upon the image, they begin to grow more and more brutish, and—as if some divinity resided in it—they stand in awe and marvel at it.

Now it is certain that men do not break forth into the worship of images until they are steeped in some cruder opinion—not indeed always believing them to be gods, but because they imagine that some divine power resides within them. Therefore, whether you represent God or a creature in an image, the moment you prostrate yourself in veneration, you have already fallen under the spell of superstition.

For this reason, the Lord forbade not only the erection of statues to represent Himself, but also the consecration of any title or stone that might be set up for worship.

And this is why, in the Second Commandment, adoration is joined to the prohibition of images. For as soon as a visible form is devised for God, His power also is thought to be attached to it. So dull are men, that wherever they fashion a likeness of God, they also bind His presence to it, and therefore cannot help but adore it. Nor does it matter whether they worship the idol simply, or God in the idol—this is always idolatry, since divine honour is rendered to the image, however one colours it.

And because God will not be worshipped superstitiously, He rejects whatever is transferred to idols.

Let those then consider, who seek to justify that execrable idolatry by which, for so many past centuries, true religion has been overwhelmed and overthrown, with their pitiful and deceiving excuses. “The images,” they say, “are not regarded as gods.” But neither were the Jews so utterly thoughtless that they forgot the God who had brought them out of Egypt by His own hand, before they made the golden calf.

Indeed, when Aaron told them, “These are your gods, O Israel, which brought you up from the land of Egypt” [Ex. 32:4], they agreed without hesitation, plainly showing that they wished to retain the same Deliverer, so long as they could see Him going before them in the calf.

And we should not suppose the heathen were so foolish as to think God was nothing more than wood or stone. For they changed their idols at will, yet always retained the same gods in mind. Often many idols represented one god, and though there were many images, they did not imagine as many gods. Moreover, they consecrated new images daily, and yet never thought they were creating new gods.

Let us read the excuses that Augustine records as having been offered by the idolaters of his day. When they were accused, the common people would say they were not worshipping the visible object, but the deity who invisibly dwelled within it. Those of a more ‘refined religion,’ as he puts it, claimed that they did not worship the image, nor the demon, but beheld in the bodily figure a sign of that thing which ought to be worshipped [In Psalm 113].

What then? All idolaters, whether Jews or Gentiles, were moved in the same way as has just been said. Discontent with spiritual understanding, they imagined that a more certain and more intimate knowledge of God would be impressed upon them through images.

Once that perverse likeness of God was accepted, there was no end, but they were continually deluded by new enchantments, until at length they believed that God exerted His power through the images.

Nevertheless, the Jews were convinced that under such images, they were worshipping the eternal God, the one true Lord of heaven and earth. And the Gentiles, though they worshipped false gods, yet believed they dwelled in the heavens.

10. Those who deny that such things were ever done in former times—or even in our own memory—lie impudently. Why then do they prostrate themselves before these images? Why do they turn to them in prayer, as though they were the very ears of God?

For indeed, what Augustine says is true: “No one prays or worships before an image, gazing at it, without being so affected that he thinks he will be heard, or hopes to receive what he desires from it” [In Psalmum 113].

Why then is there so great a distinction among the images of the same God—so that one is passed by or treated as common, while another is celebrated with every solemn honor? Why do they undertake exhausting pilgrimages to visit certain images, even though they have similar ones at home?

Why today do they contend to the death, even unto slaughter, in defense of their images, as if they were altars and hearths, so that they would more easily endure being robbed of the one true God than of their idols?

And I have not even begun to enumerate the vulgar errors of the common people, which are almost infinite and occupy nearly every heart. I merely point out what even the defenders themselves admit, when they most attempt to clear themselves of the charge of idolatry.

“We do not call them our gods,” they say. Neither did the Jews or Gentiles formerly call them such. And yet the Prophets incessantly reproached them with committing fornication with wood and stone, precisely because of what was daily done by them, as is now done by those who wish to be accounted Christians—namely, because they carnally worshipped God in wood and stone.

11. Although I am not unaware—and it ought not to be concealed—that they try to escape with a clever distinction, which I shall shortly discuss more fully: namely, they claim that the honor they pay to their images is “dulia” (δουλεία), not “latria” (λατρεία)—that is, the service of images, not their worship. So they maintain that the service they offer, which they call dulia, can be rightly given to statues and pictures without injury to God.

Therefore, they suppose themselves guiltless, as long as they are only servants of idols, and not worshipers of them. As though it were somehow less wicked to serve idols than to worship them!

Yet while they try to find refuge in this Greek distinction, they contradict themselves quite childishly. For the Greek word λατρεύειν simply means to worship. So their argument comes to this: they admit that they worship their images, but not with worship.

Let no one say I am playing games with words; it is they who expose their ignorance, while trying to cast a veil over the eyes of the simple. However eloquent they may be, they will never convince us that one and the same thing can be both two and not two. Let them show in fact—not in name—that there is a real difference, that they are not like the idolaters of old.

Just as an adulterer or murderer does not escape guilt by inventing a new name for his crime, so it is absurd to excuse these men with clever labels, when their actions are no different from those whom even they are forced to condemn.

Indeed, far from distinguishing themselves from ancient idolaters, they are rather the source of all the evil, through a perverse rivalry—competing with them in inventing symbols by which to represent God, contriving them by their own imagination, and forming them with their own hands.

12. Yet I am not so ensnared by superstition as to judge that no images at all may be tolerated. But since sculpture and painting are gifts of God, I seek a pure and lawful use of both—lest those things which the Lord has given for His glory and our good be not only defiled by perverse abuse, but also turned to our own destruction.

We hold it to be impious that God should be represented in visible form, because He Himself has forbidden it, and because it cannot be done without deforming His glory.

And lest anyone think us alone in this opinion, let them search the writings of those who have dealt seriously with this subject, and they will find that all sound writers have always disapproved of such representations.

If even to imagine a bodily form of God is unlawful, how much less is it lawful to set it up as God Himself, or to worship God through it?

It follows, therefore, that only those things should be painted or sculpted which the eyes can rightly perceive. The majesty of God, which is far above the senses of the eyes, must not be corrupted by unworthy images.

Under this category fall two types of representation:
first, histories and events, which have some usefulness in teaching or admonishing;
second, images and bodily forms without reference to any event, which I see bring nothing but pleasure.

And yet it is well known that almost all images displayed in churches have belonged to this second category. From this we may judge that they were placed there not by sound judgment or careful choice, but by foolish and thoughtless desire.

I pass over how improperly and indecently many of them have been portrayed—how freely painters and sculptors have indulged in licentious invention, as I mentioned earlier. I only say this: even if they were free of all fault, still they have no value for instruction.

13. But even putting aside that distinction for the moment, let us briefly consider whether any images at all—whether depicting historical events or the forms of men—should be present in Christian churches.

To begin with, if we are moved by the authority of the early Church, let us remember that for nearly five hundred years, during which religion flourished more purely and sound doctrine prevailed, Christian churches were universally devoid of images. Therefore, it was only after some degree of decline in the purity of ministry that images began to be admitted as ornaments of temples.

I will not dispute what reasoning they may have had who first introduced them. But if you compare age with age, you will see that those who brought in images had clearly departed far from the integrity of the earlier age, which had done without them.

What then? Are we to suppose that those holy fathers would have allowed the Church to be deprived for so long of something they deemed useful and salutary?

Assuredly not. For, seeing either no benefit or very little in them, but much danger, they rejected images—not from ignorance or negligence, but from deliberate counsel and sound judgment.

This Augustine clearly affirms in plain words:
“When they are placed in such positions of honourable elevation,” he says,
“so that they are looked upon by those who pray or offer sacrifices, their likeness to living members and senses, although they themselves lack both sense and soul, affects the minds of the weak, so that they seem to live and breathe.” [Ep. 49]

And elsewhere he says:
“That form of bodily features somehow forces upon the mind the impression that the image feels, because it so resembles a living body.”
And shortly after:
“Images have more power to bend the miserable soul because they have mouths, eyes, ears, and feet, than to correct it, because they do not speak, or see, or hear, or walk.” [In Psalm 113]

This surely seems to be the reason why John not only warns us to flee the worship of images but even the images themselves:

“Little children, keep yourselves from idols.” [1 John 5:21]

And we ourselves have felt this truth with dreadful experience, for that madness which once swept over the whole world and nearly extinguished all true piety, began the very moment images were placed in churches—as though a banner of idolatry had been raised. For the folly of man is such that it cannot restrain itself from falling immediately into superstitious worship.

Even if there were no such danger, when I consider the purpose for which churches are appointed, it seems to me altogether unworthy of their sanctity to receive any other images than the living and divinely instituted ones which the Lord has consecrated by His Word—I mean baptism and the Lord’s Supper, along with the other ceremonies by which our eyes ought to be more attentively fixed and more vividly moved, than to require images fashioned by human ingenuity.

Behold, then, the incomparable benefit of images—if we are to believe the Papists!—a benefit which can in no way compensate for the immeasurable loss it brings.

14. I judge that I have now said enough upon this subject—were it not that the Council of Nicaea in some sort lays its hand upon me—not the most celebrated assembly convened by Constantine the Great, but another held some eight hundred years ago by the command and under the auspices of the Empress Irene. For this council decreed not only that images should be retained in churches, but also that they should be adored. Whatever I may have said, the authority of such a synod will doubtless be brought forward as a weighty prejudice on the opposite side.

Yet, to speak truly, this does not so much move me, as my desire that my readers should see to what madness those had come who were more enamoured of images than it became Christians to be.

Let us first make this clear: those who today defend the use of images shelter themselves under the patronage of that Nicene Council. There is still extant, however, a refutatory book published under the name of Charlemagne, which—judging from its style—was written about the same time. There the opinions of the bishops who were present at that council are recorded, along with the arguments by which they contended.

Thus John, the legate of the Eastern churches, said: God created man in His own image; from which he concluded that images ought therefore to be retained. The same man thought that images were commended to us by this sentence: Show me thy face, for it is comely.

Another, to prove that images should be set up on altars, cited this text: No one lights a lamp and puts it under a bushel. Another, to show that it is profitable for us to look upon them, brought forward the verse from the Psalm: The light of Thy countenance, O Lord, is sealed upon us. Another seized upon this comparison: As the patriarchs used the sacrifices of the Gentiles, so Christians ought to have the images of saints in place of the idols of the Gentiles.

They also twisted this passage to the same purpose: O Lord, I have loved the beauty of Thy house. But most ingenious of all was this interpretation: As we have heard, so have we seen; therefore God is to be known not by the hearing of the Word alone, but also by the sight of images.

To this may be compared the like acuteness of Bishop Theodore: God is wonderful in His saints; and since elsewhere it is written, to the saints that are in the earth, therefore this must refer to images.

In fine, these absurdities are so pitifully foolish that I am even ashamed to repeat them.

15. When they come to dispute concerning adoration, they drag into the discussion the adoration of Pharaoh [Gen. 41:43], and of Joseph’s staff [Gen. 47:31], and of the pillar which Jacob set up [Gen. 28:18]—though in this last they not only corrupt the meaning of Scripture, but seize upon what is nowhere written at all. Then also these: Worship His footstool [Ps. 99:5]; again, Worship at His holy mountain [Ps. 99:9]; again, All the rich among the people shall entreat thy favour [Ps. 45:12]. These seem to them to be most strong and apt proofs.

If one, in mockery, wished to assign to the patrons of images a ludicrous character, could he gather together greater or more gross absurdities? And, as though no doubt could possibly remain, Theodosius, bishop of Myra, as seriously affirms that images are to be adored on the basis of the dreams of his archdeacon, as if he had at hand an oracle from heaven.

Let the defenders of images now go on, and press us with the decree of that Synod—as though those venerable fathers had not utterly stripped themselves of all credit, either by handling the Scriptures with such childishness, or by so foully and wickedly mangling them.

16. I now come to the monstrous impieties—portents indeed—that they dared to vomit forth; a marvel in itself: yet that they were not met with the loudest outcry and universal detestation is a marvel twice over. And it is well to parade this flagrant madness, so that at least the mask of antiquity, which the Papists hold up in defence of image-worship, may be stripped away.

Theodosius, bishop of Amorium, thunders an anathema against all who refuse to adore images. Another lays the calamities of all Greece and the East at the door of this one crime—that the images had not been adored. What punishment, then, do the Prophets, Apostles, and Martyrs deserve, in whose time no such things even existed?

They add further: if incense and perfume are brought forth in honour to greet the imperial image, much more is such honour to be paid to the statues of the saints. But Constantius, bishop of Constantia in Cyprus, professes that he embraces images with reverence, and solemnly declares that he will give them the honour of worship which is due to the life-giving Trinity; and whosoever refuses to do the same, he anathematizes, and sends away to join the Manichaeans and Marcionites. Nor is this to be thought the private opinion of a single man—the rest give their assent. Nay, John, the legate of the Orientals, carried away beyond all bounds, advises that it were better to admit all the brothels of the city than to deny the worship of images.

Finally, by unanimous consent it is decreed that all heretics are worse than the Samaritans; and that the Samaritans themselves are to be called icon-fighters. And lest their play should lack its customary closing applause, they add this clause: Let them rejoice and exult, who, having the image of Christ, offer sacrifice unto it.

Where now is that distinction between latria and dulia, with which they are wont to dazzle the eyes of God and man? For here the council, without any exception, bestows the same measure upon the idols as upon the living God Himself.

CHAPTER 12.
True Religion Is To Be Distinguished from Superstition, That We May Purely Worship the One God as He Commands.

1. We have already said at the outset that the knowledge of God is not a matter of cold speculation, but carries with it the necessity of His worship. And we touched in passing upon how He is rightly worshipped—a matter to be more fully explained elsewhere. For now, I briefly repeat: whenever Scripture asserts that there is but one God, it does not dispute the bare name, but at the same time commands that nothing be transferred elsewhere that belongs to divinity. From this, it is clear what separates pure religion from superstition.

The Greek word εὐσέβεια certainly means nothing other than right worship, for even the blind felt, as they groped in darkness, that a definite rule must be held to, lest God be worshipped perversely. Although Cicero rightly and cleverly derives the word religion from relegere (to go over again) [De natura deorum 2], the explanation he gives is forced and far-fetched: that upright worshippers would repeatedly go over and carefully review what is true. I rather think the name religion stands opposed to lawless license, for the greater part of the world grasps at whatever comes along at random, flitting here and there without purpose. But piety, if it is to stand firm, withdraws itself within bounds and remains recollected. Similarly, superstition seems to me to be so named because, not being content with the prescribed rule, it heaps up a mass of empty and vain inventions.

Leaving aside the etymology, it has always been the unanimous judgment of all ages that religion is vitiated and perverted whenever false opinions are introduced into it, and hence it is inferred, that whatever is allowed to be done from inconsiderate zeal, cannot be defended by any pretext with which the superstitious may choose to cloak it.

Yet, although all confess this aloud, shameful ignorance is at once betrayed—for they neither cling to the one God nor exercise discernment in how He is worshipped, as we have already taught. But God, in order to claim His right, proclaims Himself a jealous God and a severe avenger if He be mingled with any fictitious deity. He then defines lawful worship to hold the human race in obedience. Both of these He includes in His Law: first, He binds the faithful to Himself, that He alone may be their Lawgiver; and next, He prescribes the rule whereby He wills to be worshipped according to His own will.

I shall speak more fully elsewhere of the Law, because its uses and purposes are many; here I touch only this part—that in it a bridle is laid upon man, lest he decline to corrupt modes of worship. And what I set down previously must be held fast: unless everything proper to divinity resides in the one God alone, He is robbed of His honour, and His worship is violated.

Here, then, we must observe more carefully by what tricks superstition plays its games. It does not so openly fall away to strange gods that it seems to desert the supreme God or reduce Him to the level of others; rather, while it grants Him the highest place, it surrounds Him with a crowd of lesser deities, among whom it parcels out His particular offices. Thus, although it does so craftily and under pretence, the glory of divinity—lest it remain wholly with Him—is torn and scattered.

So it was in ancient times: both among the Jews and the Gentiles, they subjected to the father and judge of the gods a great throng to share, by rank, in the administration of heaven and earth. So too in these recent centuries: the saints who departed this life have been exalted into fellowship with God, such that they are worshipped, invoked, and celebrated in His place.

This abomination is not even considered to tarnish the majesty of God—though in truth it suppresses and extinguishes it for the most part—except that we retain a lifeless notion of His supreme power; meanwhile, deceived by outward forms, we are led away to many gods.

2. To this end, the distinction between latria and dulia, as they call it, was invented—so that divine honours might be transferred to angels and the dead with impunity. For the kind of worship the Papists offer to the saints is, in reality, plainly no different from the worship of God. They adore God and them indiscriminately. Only when pressed do they take refuge in this distinction, claiming that they keep for God what is properly His by reserving latria for Him alone.

But since the issue concerns the thing itself and not the word, who gave them leave to trifle so recklessly in a matter of the highest consequence? Yet even if we let that pass, what does their distinction ultimately achieve but this: that they offer cultus to God, and servitium to others? For latreia among the Greeks means what cultus does among the Latins, while douleia properly signifies servitude—and yet in Scripture this distinction is sometimes not maintained.

Moreover, even granting that the distinction were consistently preserved, we would still have to ask what each term means. Now douleia is servitude, and latreia is worship. And who would deny that it is greater to serve than merely to worship? For you might readily consent to worship one to whom it would be burdensome to be bound as a servant. Thus, their distribution is most unjust: assigning the greater to the saints, and leaving to God the lesser.

But many of the ancients employed this distinction. So what? If all men now see clearly that it is not only improper but entirely frivolous?

3. Let us lay aside the quibbles and consider the matter plainly. When Paul reminds the Galatians what they were like before they came to know God, he says they did service (duliam exhibuisse) to those who by nature are not gods [Gal. 4:8]. Though he does not name latria, is their superstition therefore excusable? Not at all. Paul condemns that same perverse superstition under the name dulia, just as forcefully as if he had used the term latria.

And when Christ repels Satan’s assault with the shield of this saying, “Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God” [Matt. 4:10], the matter in question was not, by name, latria. Satan had only demanded proskynesis. Likewise, when John is rebuked by the angel for falling to his knees before him [Rev. 19:10], we must not suppose that John was so foolish as to wish to transfer to an angel the honour due to God alone. But because religious worship cannot be offered without implying something divine, to proskynesein (worship) the angel was to detract from God’s glory.

It is true that men are often said to have been adored, but this was a kind of civil honour, so to speak. Religion, however, operates on a different principle. As soon as it is joined to worship, it entails a profanation of divine honour. The same is evident in the case of Cornelius [Acts 10:25]. For he had advanced far enough in godliness to give the highest worship to God alone. That he fell down before Peter was certainly not with the intention of worshipping him as God—yet Peter sternly forbids him to do so. Why? Because men never so precisely distinguish between the worship of God and creatures, that they do not end up transferring to the creature something that properly belongs to God.

Therefore, if we would have one God, let us remember not to withhold from Him even the smallest portion of His glory, but to preserve intact what is properly His.

Thus, when Zechariah prophesies the restoration of the Church, he clearly states not only that there shall be one God, but also that His name shall be one [Zech. 14:9]—so that it may have nothing in common with idols.

What kind of worship God requires will be seen elsewhere in due order. For by His Law He willed to prescribe to men what is lawful and right, and to bind them to a definite rule, so that no one might presume to invent a worship of his own.

But because it would be unwise to burden the reader with too much at once, I shall not yet touch upon that topic. It is sufficient to hold this point: whatever acts of piety are directed anywhere else than to the one God, are tainted with sacrilege.

To begin with, superstition attached divine honours to the sun and other stars, or to idols. Then ambition followed, which, adorning mortals with the spoils of God, dared to profane all that was sacred. And although the principle still stood—that the highest worship belongs to the supreme deity—yet it became customary to offer sacrifices promiscuously to genii, lesser gods, or dead heroes. So prone is man to fall into this fault, that what God jealously reserves for Himself is lavished upon a great multitude.

Chapter 13 – That the One Essence of God, which contains Three Persons, is set forth in the Scriptures from the very beginning of Creation

1. What the Scriptures deliver concerning the infinite and spiritual essence of God ought to be sufficient not only to overthrow the delusions of the vulgar, but also to refute the sophistries of profane philosophy.

One of the ancients rightly seemed to say that God is whatever we see, and whatever we do not see. Yet in saying this, he imagined that the divine nature is diffused into every part of the world. Now although God, in order to restrain us to sobriety, speaks sparingly concerning His own essence, yet with these two epithets which I mentioned—infinite and spiritual—He both removes gross imaginations and checks the audacity of the human mind. For surely, His immensity ought to terrify us, that we may not dare to measure Him by our own sense. And His spiritual nature forbids us from thinking anything earthly or carnal about Him.

To the same end tends that which so often assigns Him His dwelling in heaven. For though He is incomprehensible and indeed fills the whole earth, yet because He sees that our minds—on account of their sluggishness—cling to the earth, it is rightly ordered that He lifts us above the world to shake off our sluggishness and sloth.

Hence the error of the Manichees collapses, who, by positing two principles, made the devil nearly equal to God. Certainly, this was both to destroy the unity of God and to limit His infinity.

That they dared to abuse certain testimonies was a mark of shameful ignorance, just as the error itself was one of execrable madness.

So also the Anthropomorphites, who imagined God to be corporeal, because Scripture often ascribes to Him mouth, ears, eyes, hands, and feet, are easily refuted. For who, even with a little understanding, does not know that God, in speaking with us—as nurses are wont to do with infants—somehow babbles? Therefore, such forms of speech do not so much express what God is in Himself, as they accommodate the knowledge of Him to our weakness. And to do that, it is necessary to descend far beneath His majesty.

2. But He also marks Himself with another distinctive characteristic by which He may be more closely known; for He so proclaims Himself as the only God, that He distinctly sets Himself forth to be considered in three Persons—without which, the bare and empty name of God merely flutters in our brain, without the true God.

Further, lest anyone imagine a threefold God, or think that the simple essence of God is torn apart into three persons, we must here seek a brief and easy definition to set us free from all error.

But because some persons bitterly assail the term Person as if it were a human invention, we must first examine how fair such criticism is. The Apostle, calling the Son of God the express image of the Father’s hypostasis [Heb. 1:3], doubtless assigns to the Father a certain subsistence in which He differs from the Son. To understand this as referring to essence (as some interpreters have done—as if Christ, like wax impressed with a seal, simply reproduced the substance of the Father) is not only harsh, but absurd. For since the essence of God is simple and indivisible, containing all things in itself not by part or flow, but in full perfection, it would be improper—indeed, senseless—to call that His image.

But because the Father, though distinct in His own property, has fully expressed Himself in the Son, He is rightly said to have made His hypostasis conspicuous in Him. This corresponds well with what follows immediately: that the Son is the brightness of His glory. Surely from the Apostle’s words we gather that the Father has a proper hypostasis which shines forth in the Son; from which it is also easily gathered that the Son likewise has a hypostasis which distinguishes Him from the Father. The same reasoning applies to the Holy Spirit: for we shall soon prove that He is God, and yet must necessarily be considered distinct from the Father.

This distinction, moreover, is not one of essence—which it is blasphemy to divide or multiply. Therefore, if we accept the testimony of the Apostle, it follows that there are three hypostases in God.

The Latins, expressing the same truth with the word person, have no less rightly conveyed the idea—and it is the height of pedantry and obstinacy to quarrel over a term when the matter is clear. If someone desires a word-for-word rendering, it may be called a subsistence. Many have also used the term substance in the same sense.

Nor, indeed, was the word Person used only by the Latins, but the Greeks likewise, likely for the sake of mutual testimony, taught that there are three πρόσωπα in God. And although the Greeks and Latins may differ in wording, they fully agree in the matter itself.

3. Now, if heretics snarl at the word person, or if certain overly scrupulous men protest that they do not admit a term coined by human will, when they cannot refute that three are spoken of—each fully God, and yet not three Gods—what impudence is this? To reject words which only explain what Scripture has already testified and sealed?

They argue that it would be better not only to confine our thoughts but even our words within the bounds of Scripture, rather than to scatter foreign terms, which may become seeds of dissension and strife; for thus, they say, are we weakened by verbal quarrels, thus is truth lost in arguing, thus is charity dissolved by hateful wrangling.

If by “foreign” they mean a word that cannot be shown to appear in Scripture with the same syllables and form, then indeed they impose an unfair law, by which all interpretation would be condemned unless patched together verbatim from Scripture’s very wording.

But if by “foreign” they mean a term devised with undue curiosity, superstitiously defended, more suited to contention than edification, employed inappropriately or to no profit, offensive in its harshness to godly ears, or one that departs from the simplicity of the Word of God—then I fully embrace such sobriety. For I judge that we ought to speak of God with no less reverence than we think of Him; for whatever we think is foolish, and whatever we say, tasteless.

Yet there is a measure to be kept: we must derive a sure rule both for thinking and speaking from Scripture itself, to which all the thoughts of the mind and the words of the mouth must be conformed.

But what prevents us from using plainer words to explain those things in Scripture which are difficult or obscure to our understanding—provided they serve the truth of Scripture faithfully and reverently, are used sparingly and modestly, and only when needed?

Indeed, we have many examples of this.

And what if it is proven that the Church was compelled by great necessity to adopt the terms Trinity and Persons? If someone then reproaches the novelty of these terms, will he not be rightly judged unworthy to bear the light of truth—since he reproaches nothing else but that the truth is made plain and clear?

4.
Such novelty of words (if it is to be so called) arose chiefly when the truth had to be defended against slanderers, who sought to evade it by subtilty. We experience this more than enough today, as those who strive most to overthrow sound and pure doctrine are so slippery and evasive in their twistings that they escape unless they are firmly pressed and caught.

Thus, the ancients, harassed by conflicts against various heresies, were forced to explain with more refined clarity what they believed, so as to leave no crooked subterfuges to the ungodly, who used verbal coverings as hiding places for their errors.

Arius confessed that Christ was God and the Son of God, since he could not withstand the clear oracles of Scripture, and he pretended to agree with others. But in secret, he continually insisted that Christ was a created being, having a beginning like the other creatures. To draw out this man’s slippery cunning from its hiding place, the fathers went further and declared Christ to be the eternal Son of the Father and of the same substance (homoousios) with the Father.

At this, the impiety of the Arians flared up: they began to hate and curse the word homoousios as abominable. Yet had they initially sincerely and heartily confessed Christ to be God, they would not have denied that He is of the same substance with the Father.

Who would dare reproach those pious men as contentious or quarrelsome for growing heated over a single word and disturbing the peace of the Church? But that one word distinguished between the Christians of pure faith and the sacrilegious Arians.

Later, Sabellius arose, who treated the names of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as nearly nothing, arguing they were not intended to show any real distinction but only different attributes of God, of which He has many.

If he were brought into controversy, he would profess to believe in the Father as God, the Son as God, and the Spirit as God; but then he would easily slip away by saying that he meant nothing more than calling God strong, just, and wise. Thus, he sang a different tune: that the Father was the Son, and the Holy Spirit was the Father—no order, no distinction.

Godly teachers, who at the time earnestly loved true godliness, withstood this deceit, declaring that the three distinct properties in one God must be truly recognized. And to guard the truth with openness and simplicity against such twisted cunning, they asserted that in the one God there truly subsist (or, which is the same, that there subsists in the unity of God) a Trinity of Persons.

5.
If, then, these names were not rashly invented, we must take care lest, by rejecting them, we be guilty of arrogant recklessness. Indeed, would that they had never arisen—so long as this faith were agreed upon among all: that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one God; and yet that the Son is not the Father, nor the Spirit the Son, but each distinguished by some particular property.

Nor, in truth, am I so unbendingly austere that I would wish to quarrel over mere words. For I observe that the ancients—though speaking on these matters with much reverence—do not always agree either with one another or even with themselves. What formulas, for instance, does Hilary excuse as having been used by the councils? How freely does Augustine sometimes speak? How different are the Greeks from the Latins?

But one example of such variation will suffice. When the Latins wished to translate the word ὁμοούσιος, they said consubstantial, indicating that the substance of the Father and of the Son is one, and so they used substance in the place of essence. For this reason, Jerome wrote to Damasus that it is sacrilege to declare that there are three substances in God. And yet, you will find more than a hundred instances in Hilary where he says there are three substances in God.

And what confusion Jerome had with the word hypostasis! He suspected it to be poisonous when it was said that there are three hypostases in God. Even if someone used the term in a pious sense, he still did not deny it was improper language—if, indeed, he spoke sincerely, and not rather aimed deliberately to burden and falsely accuse those Eastern bishops whom he hated.

Certainly, it was not very honest of him to assert that in all secular schools ousia means nothing different than hypostasis—a claim easily refuted by common and widespread usage. Augustine was more modest and fair-minded: although he said the word hypostasis was unfamiliar to Latin ears in this sense, yet he did not deprive the Greeks of their own way of speaking. Indeed, he calmly tolerated Latins who had adopted Greek phrasing. [Book 5 On the Trinity, ch. 8–9]

And what Socrates also records in Book 6 of the Tripartite History has the same sense: that the term was misapplied by unlearned men. Yet even Hilary severely reproaches the heretics, saying that by their wickedness he is forced to expose divine mysteries to the danger of human language—things that should rather be held with religious reverence in the heart. He does not hide that to do so is to commit unlawful acts, to speak what is ineffable, to presume what is not permitted.

Shortly afterward, he offers many excuses for daring to use such new terms. For after listing the names of the persons—Father, Son, and Spirit—he adds that whatever is sought beyond the significance of the words, beyond the intent of sense, beyond the capacity of understanding, lies outside the bounds of speech. [Book 2 On the Trinity]

Elsewhere, he praises the blessed bishops of Gaul, who had neither coined, nor received, nor even known any other confession than that old and most simple one which had been received by all the churches since the time of the apostles. [On the Councils]

Augustine’s excuse is much the same—that this term (consubstantial) was forced into use by necessity, due to the inadequacy of human language on so great a matter—not in order to express what God is, but rather lest we remain silent as to how the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are three.

This modesty of the holy men ought to teach us not to condemn so harshly, as with a censor’s pen, those who are unwilling to swear allegiance to the precise terms we have conceived—provided, of course, that they act not from pride, or insolence, or malicious cunning. But let them in turn consider how great a necessity compelled us to speak in this manner, that they may gradually become accustomed to a form of speaking that is both useful and true.

They should also beware lest, in seeking to resist the Arians on the one side and the Sabellians on the other, and yet chafing that both parties are denied room for evasion, they themselves provoke a suspicion of being either disciples of Arius or of Sabellius.

Arius says that Christ is God, but he mutters that he was made and had a beginning. He says Christ is one with the Father, but secretly whispers into the ears of his followers that He is united only as other faithful people are—though with a special prerogative.

Say consubstantial, and you strip the shapeshifter of his mask—yet you have added nothing to Scripture.

Sabellius says that the Father, Son, and Spirit signify nothing distinct in God. Say there are three, and he screams that you are naming three gods. Say three persons in one divine essence, and you have spoken in one word what the Scriptures teach and have silenced foolish chatter.

Moreover, if some are so anxiously bound by superstition that they cannot bear these terms, yet even if they burst with rage, they can no longer deny that when we hear one, we are to understand unity of essence; when we hear three in one essence, we understand that persons are noted in this Trinity. Having confessed this honestly, we make no fuss over words.

But I have long since learned—indeed, I have often found—that those who stubbornly quarrel over words are usually nourishing a hidden poison. So it is better to provoke them openly than to obscure truth for their sake.

6. But leaving aside dispute over words, I now proceed to speak of the thing itself.
By person I mean a subsistence in the essence of God, which, being related to the others, is distinguished by an incommunicable property.
By the name subsistence we wish something other than essence to be understood.
For if the Word were simply called God, then He would have nothing proper to Himself, and John would have wrongly said that He was always with God [John 1:1].
Where he immediately adds that the Word was God, he brings us back to the one essence.
But since He could not be with God unless He existed in the Father, from this arises that subsistence, which, though individually united to the essence and unable to be separated from it, yet has a special mark by which it differs from it.

Now I say that each of the three subsistences is distinguished from the others by a relational property.
Relation is here expressly stated: because when mention is made of God simply and indefinitely, the name applies no less to the Son and the Spirit than to the Father.
But as soon as the Father is compared with the Son, each one’s property distinguishes him from the other.

Thirdly, I assert that whatever is proper to each is incommunicable, because that which is attributed to the Father as a mark of distinction cannot also belong to or be transferred to the Son.
Nor do I disapprove of Tertullian’s definition—so long as it is rightly taken—that there is in God a certain disposition or economy which changes nothing of the unity of essence [Against Praxeas].

7. Before I go further, the deity of both the Son and the Holy Spirit must be demonstrated; afterward, we shall observe how they differ from one another.

Surely, when the Word of God is set before us in Scripture, it would be the height of absurdity to imagine merely a fleeting and vanishing voice, sent out into the air apart from God Himself—such as were the oracles delivered to the Fathers and all the prophecies—for what is indicated is a perpetual Wisdom dwelling with God, from which all the oracles and prophecies have proceeded.

For (as Peter testifies) the ancient prophets spoke by the Spirit of Christ no less than the Apostles did [1 Peter 1:11], and so did all who afterward dispensed heavenly doctrine.
Since Christ had not yet been revealed, we must understand the Word as begotten of the Father before the ages.

Now if that Spirit, by which the prophets were made organs, was the Word, we undoubtedly conclude that He was true God.
And Moses clearly teaches this in the creation of the world, placing the Word in an intermediate role.
For why does he narrate so explicitly that God said, “Let this be” or “Let that be,” in the creation of each work, except to show that the unsearchable glory of God shines in His image?

The witty and verbose might readily dismiss this, taking the word said as merely commanded or ordered—but the better interpreters are the Apostles, who teach that the worlds were made through the Son, and that He upholds all things by the word of His power [Hebrews 1:2].

Here we see that the word is understood as the will or command of the Son, who is Himself the eternal and essential Word of the Father.
Nor is it unclear to sound and modest minds what Solomon says when he introduces Wisdom as begotten of God before the ages, presiding over the creation of things and all the works of God [cf. Proverbs 8, Sirach 24:14].

For it would be foolish and frivolous to imagine a temporary will of God, since in that moment He intended to manifest His fixed and eternal counsel, and indeed something more hidden.
To this also refers that saying of Christ: My Father and I have worked until now [John 5:17].
For by affirming that He was active with the Father in the work from the beginning of the world, He explains more clearly what Moses had briefly touched upon.

Thus, we conclude that God spoke in such a way that the Word had its own role in the action, and thus the operation was common to both.

But most clearly of all, John teaches that the Word, who was with God from the beginning, was the cause of all things along with God the Father [John 1:3].
For he ascribes to the Word a solid and permanent essence, assigns to Him something peculiar, and clearly shows how God was the Creator of the world through speaking.

Therefore, as all divinely given revelations are rightly designated by the title word of God, so it is fitting to place that substantial Word in the highest rank—the source of all oracles, subject to no variation, eternally abiding the same with God, and He Himself is God.

8. Here certain barking dogs raise their objections, who—though they dare not openly strip Him of His divinity—yet stealthily rob Him of His eternity. For they say that the Word only began to be when God opened His sacred mouth at the creation of the world. But they recklessly ascribe to the substance of God a kind of change. For just as names that refer to God’s external works began to be attributed to Him only when the works themselves came into being (as when He is called Creator of heaven and earth), so piety neither acknowledges nor admits any name which would signify that something new has occurred in God Himself.

For if anything were adventitious, that word of James would collapse: Every good and perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning [James 1:17].

Therefore, nothing could be more intolerable than to imagine a beginning for that Word who has always been God, and who afterward became the maker of the world.

But these cunning men reason thus: that because Moses, in narrating, says God then first spoke, he thereby insinuates that there was no Word in Him before—than which nothing could be more foolish.

For it does not follow that, because something begins to be manifested at a certain time, it had never previously existed. I rather conclude quite the opposite: that in the very moment when God said, Let there be light [Genesis 1:3], the power of the Word emerged and became manifest, showing that He existed long before.

As for how long before—if anyone should ask—he will find no beginning. For no definite span of time can mark off what Christ Himself says: Father, glorify Thou Me with the glory which I had with Thee before the foundation of the world [John 17:5].

Nor did John overlook this: for before descending to the creation of the world, he says that in the beginning the Word was with God [John 1:1].

We therefore affirm again that the Word was conceived by God before the beginning of time, and has eternally dwelt with Him—whence His eternity, true essence, and divinity are established.

9. Although I do not yet address the person of the Mediator, reserving that until the place where redemption is treated, yet since it ought to be held without controversy among all that Christ is that Word made flesh, all testimonies which assert Christ’s deity are highly relevant here.

When it is said in Psalm 45, Thy throne, O God, is forever and ever, the Jews object that the name Elohim also applies to angels and highest powers. But nowhere in Scripture is there a passage like this one, which erects an eternal throne for a creature; nor is He merely called God, but also eternal Ruler. Moreover, this title is given to none unless with qualification, as when Moses is said to be made a god to Pharaoh [Exod. 7:1].

(Some others read it in the genitive case—which is altogether insipid.) I grant, indeed, that what is called divine is sometimes so named because of singular excellence. But from the context, it is plain that such a reading is forced and unnatural, and indeed not fitting at all.

But if their stubbornness still yields nothing, Isaiah most plainly sets forth this same Christ both as God and as adorned with supreme power—something proper to the one God alone. This is the name by which they shall call Him: Mighty God, Father of the age to come, etc. [Isa. 9:6].

Here again, the Jews bark and twist the reading as follows: This is the name by which the Mighty God shall call him: Father of the age to come, etc., leaving only Prince of Peace to the Son. But to what purpose would so many epithets be heaped here upon God the Father, when the prophet’s purpose is to adorn Christ with notable titles that may establish our faith in Him?

Therefore, there is no doubt that He is called Mighty God here in the same way that He was previously called Immanuel.

But nothing could be clearer than the passage in Jeremiah: This is the name by which the branch of David shall be called: Jehovah our Righteousness [Jer. 23:6].

For although the Jews themselves readily grant that the other names of God are nothing but epithets, they say this one alone—which they declare unutterable—is a substantive name, meant to express His very essence. Hence, we conclude that the Son is the only true and eternal God, who elsewhere declares that He will not give His glory to another [Isa. 42:8].

Of course, some here try to hide behind evasions, noting that Moses gave this name to the altar he built, and Ezekiel gave it to the new city of Jerusalem. But who does not see that the altar was built as a memorial that God was Moses’ exaltation, and that the name given to Jerusalem was only to signify God’s presence? For so the prophet says: The name of the city from that day shall be: Jehovah is there [Ezek. 48:35].

Moses likewise said: He built an altar and called the name of it, Jehovah is my exaltation [Exod. 17:15].

But a greater challenge arises from another passage in Jeremiah, where the same title is applied to Jerusalem in these words: This is the name by which she shall be called: Jehovah our Righteousness [Jer. 33:16].

Yet far from hindering the truth we defend, this testimony more strongly supports it. For having previously borne witness that Christ is the true Jehovah, from whom righteousness flows, he now declares that the Church of God will truly experience this, so that she may rightly glory in that very name.

Thus, in the former passage, the source and cause of righteousness is set forth; in the latter, its effect is added.

10.
If these things do not satisfy the Jews, I do not see by what cavils they can escape the fact that Jehovah is so frequently placed in the person of the Angel. The Angel is said to have appeared to the holy Patriarchs. Yet this same Angel claims for himself the name of the eternal God (Judg. 6–7). If someone objects that this is said with respect to the role the Angel sustains, the knot is by no means thereby untied. For a servant, in allowing sacrifice to be offered to himself, would be robbing God of His honour. But the Angel, though refusing to eat the bread (Judg. 13:16), commands that the sacrifice be offered to Jehovah. Then he proves by deed that he himself is that Jehovah. Thus Manoah and his wife, from this sign, conclude not that they have seen merely an Angel, but God. Hence that saying: “We shall surely die, for we have seen God.” And when the wife replies, “If Jehovah had desired to kill us, he would not have accepted a sacrifice at our hands,” she certainly confesses that the one earlier called an Angel was God (Judg. 13:22–23). Add also that the Angel’s own response removes doubt: “Why do you ask my name, which is Wonderful?” (Judg. 13:18).

Therefore, the impiety of Servetus was all the more detestable, when he asserted that God had never been revealed to Abraham and the other Patriarchs, but that in His place an Angel had been worshipped. Rightly and wisely did the orthodox doctors of the Church interpret that chief Angel as the Word of God, who even then began, as by a kind of prelude, to discharge the office of Mediator. Although He had not yet been clothed in flesh, yet He descended, as it were, as an intermediary, that He might more familiarly draw near to the faithful. Because of this closer communication, He received the name of Angel; but in the meantime, He retained what was His own—that He was God of ineffable glory.

The same is intended by Hosea, who, after recounting Jacob’s struggle with the Angel, says: “Jehovah, God of hosts, Jehovah is his memorial name” (Hos. 12:5). Again Servetus barks, that God bore the person of an Angel—
as though the Prophet did not confirm what Moses had said, “Why do you ask my name?” And the confession of the holy Patriarch plainly shows it was not a created Angel, but one in whom full deity dwelled, when he says: “I have seen God face to face” (Gen. 32:30).

Hence also Paul’s statement, that Christ was the leader of the people in the desert (1 Cor. 10:4); for although the time of His humiliation had not yet come, that eternal Word nonetheless presented a figure of the office to which He was appointed.

If now without contention the second chapter of Zechariah be weighed, the Angel who sends another Angel is soon after declared to be the Lord of Hosts, and to Him supreme power is attributed.

I pass over countless other testimonies, in which our faith may safely rest, even though they move the Jews but little. For when it is said in Isaiah, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, and He will save us. This is Jehovah, we have waited for Him” (Isa. 25:9), it is clearly evident that He is pointed out visibly as the one who rises again for the salvation of the people. The emphatic repetition of this demonstrative leaves no room for interpreting it of anyone but Christ.

Still more clear and solid is the passage in Malachi, where it is promised that the Lord, who was then earnestly expected, would come to His temple (Mal. 3:1). Certainly, the temple was sacred to none but the one true God—yet the Prophet claims it for Christ. Whence it follows, that He is the same God who was always worshipped among the Jews.

11.
But the New Testament abounds with innumerable testimonies. Therefore, we must take care to select a few of them briefly rather than heaping everything together. Although the Apostles spoke of Him (that is, Christ) from the time when He had already become the Mediator in the flesh, yet whatever I shall here bring forward will rightly and particularly pertain to the demonstration of His eternal deity. Above all, this is particularly worthy of careful notice—that the Apostles teach that what was foretold of the eternal God is either now fulfilled in Christ or was previously shadowed forth in Him.

For when Isaiah prophesies that the Lord of Hosts would be a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense to the Jews and Israelites (Isa. 8:14), Paul asserts that this was fulfilled in Christ (Rom. 9:32). Therefore, he declares that this Lord of Hosts is Christ. Likewise, elsewhere he says: “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ” (Rom. 14:10), for it is written: “To Me every knee shall bow, and every tongue shall swear” (Isa. 45:23). Since God claims this of Himself in Isaiah, and Christ truly displays it in Himself, it follows that He is the very same God whose glory cannot be transferred to another.
And what Paul cites from the Psalms in Ephesians—“When He ascended on high, He led captivity captive” (Eph. 4:8; Ps. 68:18)—is clearly applicable only to God. For the ascension depicted there refers to that remarkable triumph by which God exercised His power against foreign nations, which Paul says was more fully manifested in Christ. Thus John bears witness that the glory of the Son was that which Isaiah beheld in vision (John 12:41; Isa. 6:1), even though the prophet himself says he saw the majesty of God.

Moreover, what the Apostle to the Hebrews applies to the Son are undeniably the most illustrious titles of God: “Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth,” etc., and “Let all the angels of God worship Him” (Heb. 1:10, 6). Yet Paul does not misuse these when he applies them to Christ; for whatever is sung in those Psalms, Christ alone fulfilled. He is the one who arose and had mercy on Zion; He is the one who claimed the kingdom of all nations and islands for Himself. And why should John hesitate to refer the majesty of God to Christ, having already stated that “the Word was always God” (John 1:1, 14)? Why should Paul fear to place Christ at the judgment seat of God (2 Cor. 5:10), when just before he had openly proclaimed His divinity, saying “who is God over all, blessed forever” (Rom. 9:5)? And to show how consistently he speaks, elsewhere he also writes that “God was manifested in the flesh” (1 Tim. 3:16).

If He is God blessed forever, then He is the one to whom alone all glory and honour is due, as Paul also affirms elsewhere (1 Tim. 1:17). Nor does he obscure this point; rather, he boldly proclaims: “Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation” (Phil. 2:6). And lest any profane person should object that He is a made-up or secondary god, John goes further, saying: “This is the true God and eternal life” (1 John 5:20). Although it ought to be more than sufficient for us that He is called God—especially by a witness who plainly affirms that there are not many gods, but one—yet even this is stated emphatically. For it is Paul himself who says: “Though there be many that are called gods, whether in heaven or on earth, to us there is but one God, of whom are all things” (1 Cor. 8:5–6). From the same mouth we also hear that “God was manifest in the flesh” (1 Tim. 3:16), and that “God purchased the Church with His own blood” (Acts 20:28): then what are we to imagine, except that this is the very God whom Paul recognizes, and no other?

Indeed, there is no doubt that this was the common understanding of all the godly. Thomas, certainly, in openly declaring Christ to be both his Lord and his God (John 20:28), confesses Him to be the one and only God whom he had always worshipped.

12. Now, if we judge His divinity by the works which Scripture attributes to Him, it will shine forth yet more clearly.

For when He said that from the beginning until now He had worked together with the Father (John 5:17), the Jews—though generally dull to His other sayings—nonetheless understood that He was claiming divine power for Himself. And therefore (as John reports), they sought all the more to kill Him, not only because He broke the Sabbath, but also because He said that God was His own Father, making Himself equal with God. Then what stupidity would be ours if we did not perceive from this that His divinity is plainly established? Indeed, to govern the world by providence and power, and to regulate all things by the command of His own might—which the Apostle ascribes to Him (Heb. 1:3)—is the work of the Creator alone. Nor does He merely share with the Father the role of ruling the world, but He also undertakes other offices individually, which cannot be communicated to creatures. The Lord cries out through the prophet: “I, even I, am He who blotteth out thy transgressions for Mine own sake” (Isa. 43:25). According to this word, when the Jews thought that God was being wronged because Christ forgave sins, He not only asserted with words that this power belonged to Him, but also confirmed it by a miracle (Matt. 9:6). Therefore, we see that not merely the ministry of forgiveness, but the power of it, is in His own hand—power which the Lord says will not pass from Himself to another. What then? To inquire into and discern the secret thoughts of hearts—is this not God’s prerogative alone? Yet this too Christ possessed (Matt. 9:4). From this, His divinity is gathered.

13. But how clearly and splendidly does His power appear in the miracles? Though I admit that both the Prophets and the Apostles performed similar and equal wonders, yet there is a great difference here: they dispensed the gifts of God through their ministry, but He exercised His own power. Indeed, He sometimes made use of prayer, to refer the glory to the Father, but in most cases, we see His own power plainly displayed to us. And how could He not be the true author of miracles, who by His own authority delegated their administration to others? For the Evangelist reports that He gave to the Apostles the power to raise the dead, heal lepers, cast out demons, etc. (Matt. 10:8; Mark 3:15, 6:7). But they exercised this ministry in such a way as to show clearly that the power came from Christ and nowhere else. “In the name of Jesus Christ,” says Peter, “rise up and walk” (Acts 3:6). No wonder then that Christ used His miracles to refute the unbelief of the Jews, since being performed by His own power, they gave a most ample testimony to His divinity (John 4:36; 10:37; 14:11).

Moreover, if outside of God there is no salvation, no righteousness, no life—and yet Christ contains all these in Himself—then He is surely shown to be God. Let no one object that life or salvation was diffused from God into Him. For He is not said to have received salvation, but to be salvation. And if no one is good but God alone (Matt. 19:17), how could He be a mere man, not to say good or just, but goodness and justice itself? What is more, from the very beginning of creation, as the Evangelist testifies, “in Him was life; and the life was the light of men” (John 1:4). Therefore, on the basis of such evidences, we dare to place our faith and hope in Him—whereas we know it to be sacrilegious impiety for any confidence to rest in a creature. “Ye believe in God,” He says, “believe also in Me” (John 14:1). And thus Paul interprets two passages from Isaiah: “Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed” and “There shall be a root of Jesse, and He that shall rise to reign over the Gentiles; in Him shall the Gentiles trust” (Isa. 28:16; 11:10; Rom. 10:11; 15:12). And why should we pursue further testimonies of Scripture on this matter, when this sentence occurs so often: “He that believeth on Me hath everlasting life”? Now, the invocation which depends upon faith also belongs to Him—and if anything is proper to divine majesty, surely this is. For the prophet says, “Whosoever shall call upon the name of the LORD (YHWH) shall be saved” (Joel 2:32). And again: “The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it and is safe” (Prov. 18:10). But the name of Christ is invoked for salvation: it follows therefore that He is YHWH.

Moreover, we have an example of such invocation in Stephen, when he said, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit” (Acts 7:59); and likewise in the whole Church, as Ananias testifies in the same book: “Lord, I have heard by many of this man, how much evil he hath done to Thy saints at Jerusalem: and here he hath authority… to bind all that call on Thy name” (Acts 9:13). And so that it may be more plainly understood that all the fullness of the Godhead dwelleth bodily in Christ, the Apostle confesses that he brought no other doctrine to the Corinthians than the knowledge of Him, and that he preached nothing but Him alone (1 Cor. 2:2). What kind of doctrine is this, and how great is the name of the Son, which is proclaimed to us, while God commands us to glory in the knowledge of Himself alone (Jer. 9:24)? What mere creature would dare to boast in himself whose knowledge alone is our glorying? To this is added the fact that in the salutations at the beginning of Paul’s epistles, the same benefits are asked from the Son as from the Father. By this we are taught that not only do the gifts of the heavenly Father come to us through His intercession, but that the Son Himself is the Author of them by shared power. Such practical knowledge is undoubtedly more certain and solid than all idle speculation. For there the godly soul perceives God as most present and almost touches Him, when it feels itself quickened, enlightened, saved, justified, and sanctified.

14. Therefore, to establish the divinity of the Spirit, the proof must chiefly be drawn from the same sources.

That testimony of Moses in the creation narrative is indeed very clear, that the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters [Gen. 1:2], or over the formless matter; for this shows not only that the beauty of the world as we now see it is preserved by the power of the Spirit, but that even before this adornment was added, the Spirit was already at work in preserving that chaotic mass.

Also beyond cavilling is the passage in Isaiah: “And now the Lord YHWH hath sent Me and His Spirit” [Isa. 48:16]; for here the highest authority in sending the prophets is shared with the Holy Spirit, from which shines forth His divine majesty.

But—as I have said—the best confirmation will come to us from our familiar experience. For that which Scripture attributes to Him is far removed from all creatures—and we ourselves learn this by a certain experience of godliness.
He it is who, being everywhere diffused, sustains, animates, and gives life to all things in heaven and earth. Already by this, He is removed from the number of creatures, in that He is not confined by any bounds; but by diffusing His power into all things, He inspires in them being, life, and motion. And this is clearly a divine work. Furthermore, if regeneration into incorruptible life is superior to any form of natural vegetation and far more excellent, what shall we think of Him from whose power it proceeds?

Now Scripture teaches in many places that the Spirit is the author of regeneration—not by any borrowed power, but by His own.
Indeed, not only of regeneration, but also of the future immortality.

Finally, all those things which are especially proper to divine majesty are also attributed to Him—as to the Son. For example, He searches the deep things of God, though no creature can be God’s counselor [1 Cor. 2:10, 16]; He bestows wisdom and the faculty of speech [1 Cor. 12:10], though the Lord had declared to Moses that this is His alone to do [Exod. 4:11]. Through Him we are brought into participation with God, so that we experience His power in us as somehow life-giving.
Our justification is His work.
From Him proceeds power, sanctification, truth, grace, and all that is good.
For He is one Spirit from whom flows every kind of gift. That saying of Paul is most worthy of notice: “Though there are diverse gifts, and manifold and varied distributions, yet it is the same Spirit” [1 Cor. 12:4ff.].
For he not only sets the Spirit as the principle or origin, but also as the author.
And this is even more clearly expressed just a little later when he says: “All these things are distributed by one and the same Spirit, who works all these according to His will” [1 Cor. 12:11]. For unless the Spirit were something subsisting in God, He could not be credited with will or choice. Therefore Paul most clearly marks the Spirit with divine power, and demonstrates that He subsists hypostatically in God.

15. Nor indeed, when Scripture speaks of Him [that is- the Holy Spirit], does it refrain from using the name of God. For Paul concludes that we are the temple of God from the fact that His Spirit dwells in us [1 Cor. 3:17; 6:19; 2 Cor. 6:16].
And this is no light matter: for seeing that God so often promises to choose us as His temple, that promise is fulfilled only when His Spirit dwells in us. Indeed—as Augustine eloquently puts it—if we were commanded to build a temple of wood and stone for the Spirit, since such worship is due to God alone, this would be clear evidence of His divinity.
But now how much clearer is it that we ourselves must be the temple of the Spirit? [Augustine, Epistle 185 (to Maximus)]. Paul himself uses the expressions “temple of God” and “temple of the Holy Spirit” interchangeably, with the same meaning. Peter, moreover, when rebuking Ananias for lying to the Holy Spirit, declares that he has not lied to men, but to God [Acts 5:3–4]. And when Isaiah introduces the Lord of hosts as speaking [Isa. 6:9], Paul teaches that it is the Holy Spirit who speaks [Acts 28:25–26]. Indeed, whenever the prophets say the words they speak are from “the LORD of Hosts,” Christ and the apostles attribute them to the Holy Spirit—whence it follows that Jehovah is truly the Holy Spirit, who is the principal author of prophecy. Again, where God laments that He has been provoked to anger by the obstinacy of the people, Isaiah writes that His Holy Spirit was grieved [Isa. 63:10].

Lastly, if blasphemy against the Holy Spirit shall never be forgiven, neither in this world nor the next, whereas he who blasphemes against the Son may obtain pardon [Matt. 12:31; Mark 3:29; Luke 12:10], then it is manifestly asserted that the majesty of the Spirit is divine, such that to injure or diminish it is an unpardonable crime. Knowingly and willingly, I pass over the many testimonies used by the Fathers. It seemed pleasing to them to cite that verse from David:
“By the word of the LORD were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath [or Spirit] of His mouth” [Psalm 33:6],
in order to prove that the world is the work of the Holy Spirit no less than of the Son. But since it is common in the Psalms to repeat the same idea twice, and since in Isaiah “the breath of His mouth” can mean the same as “His word” [Isa. 11:4], that was a weak argument. Therefore, I only wished to touch lightly upon those things on which pious minds might securely rest.

16. Now since, by the coming of Christ, God has revealed Himself more clearly, so also He has become more familiarly known in the three persons. But from the many testimonies, let this one alone suffice us:
Paul so connects these three—God, faith, and baptism [Eph. 4:5]—that he argues from the one to the other:
Namely, that because there is one faith, it follows that there is one God; and because there is one baptism, it proves that there is one faith.

Therefore, if we are initiated by baptism into the faith and religion of the one God, it must follow that He whose name we are baptized into is truly God. Nor is there any doubt that Christ, in that solemn formula of naming, intended to testify that now the full light of faith had appeared when He said:
“Baptize them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” [Matt. 28:19];
for this is as much as to say: to be baptized into the name of the one God who has now fully revealed Himself in the Father, the Son, and the Spirit.
From this it plainly follows that in the essence of God dwell three persons, in whom the one God is known. And indeed, since faith must not wander about hither and thither, nor dart from one object to another, but must look to one God, be fixed upon Him, and cleave to Him alone—
it is easy to conclude that if there are different kinds of faith, there must also be more than one God.
But since baptism is the sacrament of faith, it confirms to us the unity of God, because it is one. Hence it also follows that we may not be baptized into any other than the one God, because it is His faith we embrace in whose name we are baptized.

What then does Christ mean when He commands baptism in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
except that we are to believe in the Father, the Son, and the Spirit with one and the same faith? And what else is this, than clearly to testify that the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are one God? Therefore, since it remains fixed that God is one and not many, we conclude that the Word and the Spirit are nothing other than the very essence of God.

Truly the Arians spoke most foolishly when, while confessing the divinity of the Son, they denied Him the substance of God. Nor were the Macedonians less mad, who wished to understand the Spirit only as a distribution of grace poured out on men. For just as wisdom, understanding, prudence, fortitude, and the fear of the Lord proceed from Him,
so also He is Himself the Spirit of wisdom, prudence, fortitude, and piety. Nor is He divided according to the distribution of graces: but however variously these are apportioned, He Himself remains the same and one, as the Apostle says [1 Cor. 12:11].

17. Again, Scripture demonstrates a certain distinction of the Father from the Word, and of the Word from the Spirit. But in examining this, we must proceed with the utmost reverence and sobriety, as the very greatness of the mystery itself warns us. Indeed, I am greatly pleased by the saying of Gregory of Nazianzus:
“I cannot think of the One without being immediately surrounded by the splendour of the Three; nor can I distinguish the Three without being straightway carried back to the One.” [Oration on Holy Baptism] So then, we must not imagine such a Trinity of persons as would detain our thoughts in a state of separation, rather than draw them back immediately to the unity. Certainly the names Father, Son, and Spirit do indicate a real distinction—not mere epithets by which God is variously described according to His works—but a true distinction, not a division. The distinct property of the Son from the Father is shown in the passages we have already cited.
For the Word would not have been with God unless He were distinct from the Father; nor would He have had glory with the Father unless He were distinct from Him.

Likewise, He distinguishes the Father from Himself when He says there is another who bears witness of Me [John 5:32; 8:16, and elsewhere]. And to this belongs what is elsewhere said—that the Father created all things through the Word—which could not be unless He were, in some way, distinct from the Word. Furthermore, the Father did not descend to earth, but He who came forth from the Father; the Father did not die, nor rise again, but He who was sent by Him. Nor did this distinction begin with the assumption of flesh, but it is manifest that the Only Begotten was in the bosom of the Father before [John 1:18].
For who could possibly claim that the Son only entered the bosom of the Father when He came down from heaven to assume humanity? He was already in the Father’s bosom before, and He possessed His own glory with the Father. Christ points to the distinction of the Holy Spirit from the Father when He says that the Spirit proceeds from the Father [John 14:26; 15:26]; and also from Himself, as often as He calls the Spirit another from Himself— as when He announces that another Comforter will be sent by Him [John 14:16], and frequently elsewhere.

18. Truly, I am not sure it is profitable to borrow analogies from human things in order to express the force of this distinction. The ancients, to be sure, sometimes attempt it—but they also confess that everything they offer by way of comparison differs greatly from the reality itself. And so, I shrink from all boldness in this matter: lest anything brought forward unseasonably offer fuel for slander to the malicious or lead the unlearned into confusion.

Yet the distinction marked out by Scripture ought not to be passed over in silence.
This is it: to the Father is attributed the principle of action, as the source and fountain of all things;
to the Son, wisdom, counsel, and the very ordering of affairs;
and to the Spirit, power and efficacy in operation.

Now although the eternity of the Father is also the eternity of the Son and of the Spirit—since God could never have existed without His wisdom and power, and in eternity there is no before or after—
yet the observance of order is neither empty nor superfluous, when the Father is named first, then the Son as proceeding from Him, and afterward the Spirit as proceeding from both.

Indeed, the mind of every man naturally inclines this way: first to consider God,
then the wisdom that arises from Him,
and lastly the power by which He executes the decrees of His counsel.

By this reasoning, the Son is said to proceed from the Father alone,
and the Spirit from both the Father and the Son.
This appears in many passages, but nowhere more clearly than Romans 8, where the same Spirit is called both the Spirit of Christ and the Spirit of Him who raised Christ from the dead—and this, rightly so.
For Peter also bears witness that it was the Spirit of Christ by whom the prophets prophesied [2 Peter 1:21];
while Scripture again and again teaches that the Spirit was the Spirit of God the Father.

19. Moreover, this distinction does not at all hinder the most simple unity of God. Rather, it allows us to prove that the Son is one God with the Father, since He subsists together with Him in one and the same Spirit; and that the Spirit is not something other or different from the Father and the Son, because He is the Spirit of both the Father and the Son.

For in each hypostasis (person), the entire divine nature is understood, along with that which underlies—the unique property of each. The Father is wholly in the Son, and the Son wholly in the Father, just as He Himself affirms: “I am in the Father, and the Father in Me” (John 14:10). And the ecclesiastical writers concede that there is no distinction of essence that separates the one from the other (cf. Augustine, Homily 38 on Time, On the Trinity; Cyril, On the Trinity, Book 7, and Dialogue 2 in Book 3).

With those names that denote distinction (says Augustine), the meaning is this: that they refer to each other, not to the substance itself by which they are one (Epistle 174 to Pascentius).

It is in this sense that the differing expressions of the ancients—otherwise seemingly at odds—must be reconciled. For at one time, they teach that the Father is the principle (origin) of the Son; at another, they assert that the Son has both divinity and essence from Himself, and that therefore the Father and the Son are one single principle (see Augustine on Psalm 109 and in Tractates on John, Tractate 39).

Augustine explains the cause of this diversity well and clearly elsewhere, when he says: “Christ is called God in relation to Himself, but Son in relation to the Father. Again, the Father is called God in relation to Himself, but Father in relation to the Son. What is said of the Father with reference to the Son is not the Son; what is said of the Son with reference to the Father is not the Father; but what is said of each with reference to Himself is the same God” (Augustine, on Psalm 68).

Therefore, when we speak of the Son simply, without regard to the Father, we rightly and properly affirm that He is “from Himself”—and so we call Him the one principle. But when we point out the relation which He has to the Father, we rightly make the Father the principle of the Son.

The entire fifth book of Augustine’s On the Trinity deals with the explanation of this matter.
But it is far safer to remain within the bounds of this relational teaching that he delivers than to wander off into lofty speculations, chasing after a sublime mystery through many vain imaginings.

20. Therefore, let those who value sobriety, and who are content with the measure of faith, briefly receive what is useful to know: namely, when we profess to believe in one God, under the name God we understand a single and simple essence, in which we comprehend three persons or hypostases. And thus, whenever the name of God is used indefinitely, it designates not only the Father, but also the Son and the Spirit. But when the Son is mentioned alongside the Father, then the relation comes into view, and in this way we distinguish the persons.

Since the personal properties carry with them a certain order—so that in the Father there is the principle and origin—whenever the Father and the Son or the Spirit are mentioned together, the name God is peculiarly assigned to the Father. In this manner, the unity of essence is preserved, and the order is properly acknowledged—yet without in any way diminishing the deity of the Son or the Spirit.

Indeed, we have already seen that the apostles declared the Son of God to be the same one whom Moses and the prophets testified to be Jehovah; it must always come back to the unity of essence. Accordingly, it is to us a detestable blasphemy to call the Son “another God” than the Father—for the simple name God does not admit relation, nor can God be said to be this or that in relation to Himself.

That the name Jehovah—taken indefinitely—belongs to Christ is also clear from Paul’s words: “Therefore I besought the Lord thrice…” For when he reports Christ’s answer—“My grace is sufficient for thee”—he adds shortly thereafter, “That the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Corinthians 12:9). It is certain that the name Lord (Dominus) in that passage stands for Jehovah; and so to restrict it merely to the person of the Mediator would be frivolous and childish, since the sentence is absolute and does not compare the Son with the Father.

We also know from the accepted custom of the Greeks that the apostles commonly substituted the name κύριος (Lord) for Jehovah. And we need not look far for an example: Paul prayed to the Lord in no other sense than that in which Peter cites the passage from Joel—“Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:16; Joel 2:28). Although in that place the name is peculiarly applied to the Son, the reason for that will be evident in its proper place. For now, it is sufficient to note that, when Paul absolutely prayed to God, he immediately added the name Christ.

In like manner, the whole Godhead is also called the Spirit of Christ by Christ Himself. For there is nothing preventing us from affirming that the entire essence of God is spiritual, in which the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are comprehended. This is clear from Scripture: for just as we hear God called Spirit, so also the Holy Spirit—inasmuch as He is a hypostasis of the entire essence—is said to be both of God and from God.

21. Now, because Satan—seeking to uproot our faith from its very foundation—has always stirred up great and grievous battles, partly concerning the divine essence of the Son and of the Spirit, and partly concerning their personal distinction, and since he has in nearly every age raised up impious spirits to trouble the orthodox teachers particularly in this matter, he even now tries to rekindle a new flame from the old embers. Therefore, it is worthwhile to confront the delusions of some who now perversely rave.

Up to this point, our chief purpose has been to gently lead the teachable by the hand, not to engage in combat with the obstinate and contentious. But now, the truth which has been calmly set forth must be defended against all the calumnies of the wicked.

Nevertheless, our chief concern will remain that those who have lent an open and willing ear to the Word of God may have a sure footing upon which to stand. Indeed, if ever in any of the hidden mysteries of Scripture, here especially we must philosophise soberly, and with great moderation, using also much caution—lest either our thoughts or our speech go further than the bounds of God’s Word extend.

For how could the human mind—which has not yet been able to determine with certainty the nature of the sun’s body, though it sees it with its own eyes daily—how could it define the infinite essence of God by its own measure? Nay, how could it, by its own power, penetrate to examine the very substance of God, when it does not even fully grasp its own?

Therefore, let us willingly leave to God the knowledge of Himself. For He alone, as Hilary says, is a sufficient witness to Himself, who is not known except through Himself. [Hilary, On the Trinity, Book 1.]

We shall yield this to Him, if we form such a conception of Him as He has revealed to us—and if we do not seek to learn anything about Him apart from His Word.

There are, indeed, five homilies of Chrysostom against the Anomoeans that exist on this subject. But even these were not sufficient to restrain the audacity of the sophists, who loosed the reins to their loquacity. In fact, they behaved no more modestly here than they do anywhere else.

From the most unhappy outcome of such recklessness we ought to take warning—that we should devote ourselves to this question more with teachableness than with cleverness. Let us not imagine that we may search out God anywhere except in His holy Word, or think anything of Him unless the Word leads us, or speak anything of Him unless it be drawn from that same Word.

And if the distinction between the Father, the Son, and the Spirit in the one divinity (as it is difficult to comprehend) brings more trouble and labour to some minds than clarity and resolution, let them remember that human minds enter a labyrinth when they indulge their curiosity. Let them therefore allow themselves to be governed by the heavenly oracles, even if they cannot grasp the full depth of the mystery.

22. To weave a full catalogue of the errors by which the sincerity of the faith has formerly been assailed in this head of doctrine would be far too long, and full of useless tedium; for most heretics, with their gross ravings, have so attempted to overthrow the entire glory of God that it has sufficed them merely to disturb and shake the unlearned. Yet even from a few men there have quickly burst forth many sects, some of which have rent the essence of God, others have confounded the distinction between the Persons.

But if we hold fast what has already been sufficiently shown from Scripture—that the essence of the one God is simple and undivided, and that this same essence belongs to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Spirit—and again, that the Father is distinguished by a certain property from the Son, and the Son from the Spirit, then not only Arius and Sabellius, but all the ancient authors of error will find the door shut against them.

Yet since in our day certain madmen have arisen, such as Servetus and his kind, who have wrapped everything in new delusions, it is worthwhile briefly to expose their deceits.

To Servetus, the very name of the Trinity was so hateful—indeed, so detestable—that he declared all those whom he called Trinitarians to be atheists. I pass over the witless slanders he invented for the sake of insult. His fundamental theory was this: that a threefold division of God is introduced when it is said that three Persons reside in His essence, and that this Triad is imaginary, because it contradicts the unity of God.

Meanwhile, he insisted that the Persons were certain external ideas, which do not truly subsist in the essence of God, but rather depict God to us under this or that form. At the beginning, he claimed, there was nothing distinct in God, for the Word and the Spirit were once the same. But, when Christ emerged as “God from God,” then another Spirit also flowed from Him as God.

Although he occasionally dressed up these follies with allegories—as when he says that the eternal Word of God was the Spirit of Christ with God, and the reflection of an idea; likewise, that the Spirit was the shadow of the deity—yet he afterwards reduces the divinity of both to nothing, asserting that according to the mode of dispensation, both the Son and the Spirit are only parts of God, just as the same Spirit is, substantially, in us—and even in wood and stones—a portion of God.

What ravings he uttered concerning the person of the Mediator, we shall see in its proper place. But this monstrous fiction—that a Person is nothing other than a visible form of the glory of God—requires no lengthy refutation. For when John declares that the Logos was God before the world was created, he clearly distinguishes it from an idea [John 1:1].

And if that Logos—who was God—was already with the Father from the beginning and from all eternity, and had His own distinct glory with the Father [John 17:5], then certainly He could not have been a mere external or figurative radiance. It necessarily follows that He was a hypostasis residing inwardly in God Himself.

Moreover, although the Spirit is not mentioned until the creation narrative, even there He is not introduced as a shadow, but as the essential power of God—when Moses says that the formless mass was sustained by Him [Genesis 1:2]. So then it appeared that the eternal Spirit had always been in God, when He upheld the confused matter of heaven and earth by His brooding, until beauty and order came upon it. He certainly could not have been an image or representation of God, as Servetus dreams.

Elsewhere, he is even compelled to reveal his impiety more openly, saying that when God, by His eternal reason, determined to have a visible Son for Himself, He thus exhibited Himself visibly. If this were true, then Christ would have no other divinity than that which belongs to Him by the eternal decree of God ordaining Him to be the Son.

Moreover, those phantasms which he substitutes in place of hypostases, he so transforms as not to hesitate to attribute new accidents to God. But the most execrable thing of all is that he mixes the Son of God and the Spirit indiscriminately with all creatures. For he plainly asserts that there are parts and partitions in the essence of God, and that each portion is God. Above all, he says that the spirits of the faithful are coeternal and consubstantial with God—even though elsewhere he assigns the substantial deity not only to the soul of man but also to other created things.

23. From this gap there sprang forth another, not dissimilar, monstrosity. Certain impostors, in order to escape the odium and disgrace of Servetus’ impiety, did indeed confess that there are three persons, but added this explanation: that the Father, who truly and properly alone is God, by forming the Son and the Spirit, infused His own deity into them.

Nor do they refrain from that horrid manner of speaking—that the Father is distinguished from the Son and the Spirit by this mark: that He alone is the essentiator. They pretend that this has some semblance, since Christ is everywhere called the Son of God, from which they conclude that none but the Father is properly God.

But they do not consider that, although the name of God is common also to the Son, yet it is sometimes ascribed especially (κατ’ ἐξοχήν) to the Father, because He is the fountain and principle of deity—and that this is in order to denote the simple unity of essence.

They object: if He is truly the Son of God, then it would be absurd to think of Him as the Son of a person. I reply that both are true: namely, that He is the Son of God, because He is the Word begotten of the Father before all ages (for we are not yet speaking of His person as Mediator); yet for the sake of explanation, the term must be understood with respect to person, so that the name “God” is not taken simply, but for the Father; for if we reckon none to be God except the Father, the Son is not obscurely cast down from that rank.

Therefore, whenever mention is made of the Godhead, there ought not to be admitted any antithesis between the Son and the Father, as though the name of the true God belonged only to the latter. For truly, the God who appeared to Isaiah was the true and only God [Isa. 6:1]; yet John affirms that it was Christ who appeared [John 12:41]. He who testified by the mouth of Isaiah that He would be a stone of stumbling to the Jews [Isa. 8:14], was the one true God; and Paul pronounces that this was Christ [Rom. 9:33]. When He cries by Isaiah, “I live, saith the Lord, to me every knee shall bow” [Isa. 45:23], He is the only God; and yet Paul interprets this of Christ [Rom. 14:11].

Also, the Apostle cites these testimonies [Heb. 1:10, 6]: “Thou, O God, didst found the heavens and the earth” [Ps. 102:25], and “Let all the angels of God worship Him” [Ps. 97:7]—which can only apply to the one true God, yet he asserts these are properly the praises of Christ.

Nor does it suffice to cavil that that which is proper to God is transferred to Christ, because He is the brightness of His glory. For wherever the name Jehovah is placed, the necessary inference with respect to the divine essence is that He is self-existent. For if He is Jehovah, it cannot be denied that He is that same God who elsewhere cries out through Isaiah, “I, even I, am He, and beside me there is no God” [Isa. 44:6].

We must also weigh the saying of Jeremiah: “The gods who did not make the heavens and the earth shall perish from the earth and from under these heavens” [Jer. 10:11]. By contrast, it must be confessed that the Son of God is He whose divinity is often proven by Isaiah from the creation of the world. But how shall He be Creator, who gives being to all, and yet not be from Himself, but borrow His essence from another? For whoever says that the Son is essentiated by the Father, denies that He is from Himself.

And the Holy Spirit protests against this, calling Him Jehovah. Now if we grant that the whole essence exists in the Father alone, then it must either be divisible or stripped from the Son—thus, robbed of His essence, He would only be God in title.

If we believe these triflers, the divine essence belongs to the Father alone, insofar as He alone is, and is the essentiator of the Son. In that case, the Son’s divinity would be something abstracted from the essence of God, or a derivation of a part from the whole.

Then they must admit from their own principle that the Spirit is of the Father alone; for if He is a derivation from the primary essence, which belongs to the Father alone, then rightly He would not be reckoned the Spirit of the Son—yet Paul refutes this [Gal. 4:6], making Him common to both Father and Son.

Further, if the Person of the Father be erased from the Trinity, how would He differ from the Son and the Spirit except in that He alone is God? They confess that Christ is God, and yet differs from the Father. Then some note of distinction must exist, lest the Father be the Son. But if they place that distinction in essence, they openly reduce the true deity of Christ to nothing—for it cannot exist apart from essence, and indeed from the whole of it.

Surely, the Father does not differ from the Son unless He has something proper to Himself which is not common to the Son. What will they now find to distinguish Him? If the distinction lies in essence, let them answer whether He shared it with the Son. This could not have been in part, for it is impious to fabricate a half-God. Moreover, in that way, they would shamefully mutilate the essence of God.

It remains, therefore, that the essence in its entirety is common to both Father and Son. And if that is true, then as to the essence itself, there will be no distinction between one and the other. If they object that the Father remains the only God by essentiating, and that the essence is with Him alone, then Christ will be a figurative God, in appearance or name only, not in reality—since nothing is more proper to God than to be, as it is written, “I AM hath sent me unto you” [Ex. 3:14].

24. That it is false, what they assume—that whenever God is mentioned absolutely in Scripture, it is to be understood only of the Father—is easily refuted from many passages: even in those which they cite for themselves, they disgracefully reveal their ignorance, because there the name of the Son is also added. Whence it appears that the name of God is taken relatively, and thus is restricted to the person of the Father; and their objection is refuted in a single word. “Unless the Father alone were the true God,” they say, “He would be His own Father.” For it is not absurd that God be called peculiarly such because of rank and order—He who not only begat His own Wisdom from Himself, but also is the God of the Mediator, as I will more fully discuss in its proper place.

For since Christ has been manifested in the flesh, He is called the Son of God not only insofar as He was begotten of the Father before the ages as the eternal Word, but also because He undertook the person and office of Mediator, to unite us to God. And since they so audaciously exclude the Son from the honour of God, I would like to know: when He declares that no one is good except one, God [Matt. 19:17], does He deprive Himself of goodness? I do not speak of His human nature, lest they perhaps reply that whatever good was in it flowed from a free gift: I ask whether the eternal Word of God is good or not. If they deny it, their impiety is plainly convicted; if they admit it, they destroy themselves by their own confession.

Moreover, that Christ at first glance seems to remove from Himself the title of “good” more strongly confirms our doctrine: namely, since it is a singular encomium belonging to God alone, when He was greeted as “good” in the common manner of speech, rejecting the false honour, He reminds that the goodness He possesses is divine. I also ask, when Paul affirms that God alone is immortal, wise, and true [1 Tim. 1:17], whether by these words Christ is to be ranked among mortals, fools, and liars. Will He therefore not be immortal, who from the beginning was life itself, to impart immortality to angels? Will He not be wise, who is the eternal Wisdom of God? Will He not be true, who is Truth itself?

I also ask whether they judge Christ to be adored. For if He rightly claims this for Himself, that every knee should bow before Him [Phil. 2:10], it follows that He is God, who in the Law forbade anyone else to be adored apart from Himself. If they wish to understand only the Father in what is said in Isaiah, “I am, and there is none besides me” [Isa. 44:6], I turn this testimony back against them, since we see that whatever pertains to God is attributed to Christ. Nor is there any place for their cavil, that Christ was exalted in the flesh in which He had been humbled, and that with respect to the flesh all power was given to Him in heaven and on earth: for although the majesty of King and Judge extends to the whole person of the Mediator, unless God had been manifested in the flesh, He could not have been exalted to such height without God contradicting Himself.

And Paul best removes this controversy, teaching that He was equal with God before He humbled Himself in the form of a servant [Phil. 2:6–7]. But how could such equality stand unless He were that God whose name is Ia and Jehovah, who rides upon the cherubim, who is King of all the earth and King of ages? However much they may clamour, it cannot be denied to Christ what Isaiah says elsewhere: “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him” [Isa. 25:9]; when with these words he describes the coming of God the Redeemer, who not only would bring the people back from the Babylonian exile but would fully restore the Church in all respects.

They also gain nothing from another cavil—that Christ was God in His Father. For although we confess that by reason of order and rank, the origin of divinity is in the Father, yet we say that the fiction is detestable—that the essence belongs properly to the Father alone, as if He were the deifier of the Son: for in that case, either the essence would be multiple, or Christ would be called God only by title and imagination. If they concede that the Son is God, but second to the Father, then the essence which is unbegotten and formless in the Father would be begotten and formed in Him.

I know many haughty men scoff that we elicit a distinction of persons from the words of Moses, where God is introduced as speaking thus: “Let us make man in our image” [Gen. 1:26]; yet pious readers see how cold and inept such a form of speech would be if Moses were to introduce it as a kind of dramatic dialogue, unless there were multiple persons in one God. And those whom the Father addresses must certainly have been uncreated: but nothing is uncreated except God Himself—and indeed only one God. Now then, unless they concede that the power of creating and the command to act belonged jointly to the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, it will follow that God was not speaking within Himself, but directed speech to other external craftsmen.

Finally, a single passage will easily refute both of their objections together. For when Christ Himself declares that “God is Spirit” [John 4:24], it would not be fitting to restrict this to the Father alone, as if the Word Himself were not of spiritual nature. But if the name of Spirit belongs to the Son no less than to the Father, I conclude that under the indefinite name “God,” the Son is also included. Yet He immediately adds afterwards that no worshippers are approved by the Father except those who worship Him in spirit and in truth; whence another point follows, that since Christ, as Head, fulfils the office of teacher, He attributes the name of God to the Father—not to abolish His own divinity, but that He may gradually raise us up to it.

25. But they are certainly mistaken in imagining individuals, each of which obtains a part of the essence. Yet from the Scriptures we teach that there is one essential God, and therefore that the essence of both the Son and the Spirit is unbegotten; but insofar as the Father is first in order and has begotten His own Wisdom from Himself, rightly, as has been recently said, is He considered the principle and fountain of the whole Godhead. Thus, God is indefinitely unbegotten: and the Father also is unbegotten with respect to Person. They also foolishly suppose that they can derive from our view that a quaternity is established, because they falsely and slanderously attribute to us the figment of their own brain, as if we imagined that three persons proceed derivatively from one essence. Whereas from our writings it is evident that we do not abstract the persons from the essence, but although they reside in it, we interpose a distinction. If the persons were separated from the essence, their reasoning might perhaps be plausible: but in that case, it would be a trinity of gods, not of persons which one God contains within Himself. Thus, their futile question is resolved—whether the essence concurs to forge the Trinity—as if three gods were shaped from it.

What they object, that therefore the Trinity would exist without God, arises from the same dullness: for although the essence does not contribute as a part or member to the distinction, yet the persons are not without it, nor outside of it: for the Father could not be the Father unless He were God, and the Son is not otherwise the Son than because He is God. Therefore we say that the Deity exists absolutely from itself; whence also we confess that the Son, insofar as He is God, is from Himself, abstracting the respect of person: but insofar as He is the Son, we say He is from the Father; thus His essence is without beginning: but the principle of His Person is God Himself.

And indeed, all the orthodox writers, whoever in former times spoke of the Trinity, referred this name only to the persons: since not only would it be an absurd error to include the essence in the distinction itself, but a gross impiety. For those who want to bring together three—Essence, Son, and Spirit—clearly empty the Son and Spirit of their essence; otherwise, mixed parts would collapse together, which is a defect in any distinction. Finally, if Father and God were synonymous, then the Father would be deifier, and nothing would remain in the Son except a shadow; nor would the Trinity be anything other than the conjunction of one God with two created things.

26. What they object—that Christ, if He is properly God, is wrongly called the Son of God—has already been answered: that this is a comparison of one person to another, and that the name “God” is not used indefinitely, but is restricted to the Father, insofar as He is the principle of the Godhead—not in essence, as fanatics babble, but in terms of order. In this sense, Christ’s statement to the Father is to be understood: “This is eternal life, that they may know Thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent” (John 17:3). For, speaking in the person of the Mediator, He holds a middle rank between God and men; yet His majesty is not thereby diminished. For although He emptied Himself, He did not lose the glory which, though hidden from the world, remained with the Father. Thus also the Apostle in Hebrews 2, although he acknowledges that for a little while He was made lower than the angels, does not hesitate to affirm at the same time that He is the eternal God who founded the earth.

We must therefore hold, whenever Christ, in the person of the Mediator, addresses the Father, that under the name of God is included the divinity which is also His own. So when He said to the apostles, “It is expedient for me to go to the Father, for the Father is greater than I” (John 16:7), He did not attribute to Himself only a secondary divinity, as if He were inferior to the Father in eternal essence; but because, having now entered into heavenly glory, He draws the faithful into participation of it. He places the Father in a higher rank, insofar as there is a difference between the manifest perfection of splendour that appears in heaven, and that measure of glory which was seen in Him clothed in flesh. For the same reason Paul elsewhere says that Christ will deliver up the kingdom to God, even the Father, so that God may be all in all (1 Corinthians 15:24). Nothing could be more absurd than to remove the perpetuity of Christ’s divinity. For if He will never cease to be the Son of God, but will always remain the same as He was from the beginning, it follows that under the name of the Father is comprehended the one divine essence, which is common to both.

Indeed, for this reason Christ descended to us, so that in exalting the Father, He might also exalt Himself, insofar as He is one with the Father. Therefore, it is neither right nor lawful to restrict the name of God exclusively to the Father in such a way that it is taken away from the Son. For this very reason John affirms that He is the true God (John 1:1), so that no one might think He stands beneath the Father in a second rank of divinity; and I wonder what these makers of new gods mean, when, having confessed that Christ is true God, they immediately exclude Him from the divinity of the Father—as if anyone could be the true God who is not one, or as if a transmitted or derivative divinity were not an entirely new fiction.

27. As for the many passages they heap together from Irenaeus, in which he declares the Father of Christ to be the one and eternal God of Israel—it is either shameful ignorance or gross dishonesty. For they ought to have observed that the holy man was contending with fanatics who denied that the Father of Christ was the very God who had spoken through Moses and the Prophets of old, but imagined instead some phantasm conjured up from the defilement of the world. Hence, his entire aim is to make clear that the God proclaimed in Scripture is none other than the Father of Christ, and that it is a grave error to invent another. It is therefore no wonder if he concludes repeatedly that the God of Israel is the same as the one celebrated by Christ and His apostles.

So too today, when we must resist an opposite error, we rightly declare that the God who formerly appeared to the patriarchs was none other than Christ. Now if someone should object that it was the Father, the answer is readily at hand: while we contend for the divinity of the Son, we by no means exclude the Father. If readers keep in view this design of Irenaeus, all dispute will cease. Indeed, the entire controversy is easily settled by Book 3, Chapter 6, where the godly man insists upon this one point—that He who is absolutely and without qualification called “God” in Scripture is truly the one God—and that Christ too is absolutely called God.

Let us remember the nature of the debate, as becomes plain from the whole course of his argument, and especially from Book 2, Chapter 46, where he states that the one called Father is not named enigmatically or parabolically, but is truly God. Moreover, in another place [Book 3, Chapter 9], he asserts that both the Son and the Father were together proclaimed as God by the Prophets and Apostles.

Later, he explains how Christ, who is Lord of all, and King, and God, and Judge, received power from Him who is God over all: namely, with regard to His subjection—because He humbled Himself even unto death on the cross [Book 3, Chapter 12].

Yet, not long after, he affirms that the Son is the Maker of heaven and earth, who gave the Law by the hand of Moses, and appeared to the patriarchs [Book 3, Chapter 16].

Now if anyone prattles that Irenaeus taught the Father alone to be the God of Israel, I reply that the same writer clearly teaches that Christ is one and the same [with the God of Israel]; as when he refers to the prophecy of Habakkuk, “God shall come from the South” [cf. Book 3, Chapters 18 and 23].

To the same purpose is what we read in Book 4, Chapter 9: “Therefore Christ Himself, together with the Father, is the God of the living.” And in Chapter 12 of the same book, he interprets Abraham’s faith as being in God, because Christ—being the Maker of heaven and earth—is the only God.

28. They with no better reason enlist Tertullian as their patron. For although his manner of speaking is sometimes harsh and thorny, he nonetheless clearly delivers the substance of the doctrine we defend. Namely, that although God is one, His Word exists by dispensation or economy; that there is one God in unity of substance, and yet that unity, by the mystery of the dispensation, is ordered into a Trinity: three not in status, but in degree; not in substance, but in form; not in power, but in appearance.

He does indeed profess to defend the Son as second to the Father, but by “another” he understands only a distinction. In one place, he calls the Son visible; but after reasoning in both directions, he concludes that the Son is invisible, insofar as He is the Word. And finally, when he affirms that the Father is defined by His own person, he shows himself utterly opposed to the fiction we are refuting. And although he acknowledges no other God than the Father, he explains himself in the immediate context, showing that he does not speak exclusively with respect to the Son—since he denies that the Son is a different God from the Father. Therefore, the monarchy is not violated by the distinction of persons.

Indeed, it is easy to gather the meaning of his words from the continual thread of his argument. For he contends against Praxeas that although God is distinguished into three persons, this does not result in multiple gods, nor is the unity torn apart. And since, according to the fiction of Praxeas, Christ could not be God unless He were the same as the Father, Tertullian therefore labours intensely to assert the distinction.

That he calls the Word and the Spirit a “portion of the whole” is indeed a harsh expression, but is excusable when it is not referred to substance, but only to disposition and economy—which pertain solely to the persons, as Tertullian himself testifies. From this also comes the phrase: “How many persons, most perverse Praxeas, do you see, if not as many as there are voices?” And again shortly after: “That they may believe the Father and the Son each in His own name and person.”

By these citations, I judge that the impudence of those who attempt to deceive the simple by an appeal to Tertullian’s authority may be sufficiently refuted.

29. Certainly, whoever diligently compares the writings of the ancients with one another will find nothing in Irenaeus different from what was afterwards delivered by others who followed. Justin is one of the most ancient; yet he agrees with us in all respects. The objection is raised, both from him and others, that the Father of Christ is called the one God. Hilary likewise teaches the same, even speaking more harshly, that eternity belongs to the Father. Was it to deprive the Son of the divine essence? On the contrary, he wholly devotes himself to the defense of that very faith which we follow. Yet they are not ashamed to extract certain mangled sayings—who knows from where—in order to persuade others that Hilary was a supporter of their error. As for Ignatius, whom they bring forward, if they want his testimony to carry any weight, let them first prove that the Apostles established a law concerning Lent and other such corruptions. There is nothing more ridiculous than those trifles published under Ignatius’s name. All the more intolerable, then, is the impudence of those who arm themselves with such phantoms in order to deceive.

Moreover, the consensus of the ancients is clearly seen in this: at the Council of Nicaea, Arius did not dare to make a show of support from any credible writer. And no one from among the Greeks or Latins claimed to dissent from the earlier teachers. Augustine—whom these scoundrels hate most bitterly—diligently examined the writings of all and embraced them with reverence; there is no need to say more. In the smallest details, he makes clear why he sometimes had to differ. In this very matter, when he finds anything ambiguous or obscure in other authors, he does not conceal it. Yet the doctrine which these men now oppose, he receives as a truth that had been accepted from the earliest times without controversy. Nor was he unaware of what others had taught before him; this is evident from a single phrase, where he says that unity is in the Father (Book 1 On Christian Doctrine). Shall we say he forgot himself in that moment? Yet elsewhere he refutes this slander, where he calls the Father the “beginning of the whole Godhead,” because He is from none—wisely considering that the name “God,” when applied particularly to the Father, must imply a beginning, otherwise the simple unity of God cannot be conceived.

At last, I hope the devout reader will recognize that all the slanders by which Satan has so far tried to corrupt or obscure the pure faith of doctrine have now been dispelled. Finally, I trust I have faithfully explained the whole summary of this doctrine—provided readers set limits on their curiosity, and do not eagerly bring upon themselves vexing and intricate debates more than is fitting. For those who are delighted by the excesses of speculation I do not aim to satisfy. Certainly, I have not cunningly passed over anything I thought might be used against me; but since I seek the edification of the Church, I judged it wiser not to address many matters which would yield little profit and only burden readers with needless trouble. For what point is there in arguing whether the Father is always begetting, when it is foolishly imagined that there is some continuous act of begetting—though it is clear that from eternity the three persons have subsisted in God?

Chapter 14. That even in the very creation of the world and of all things, Scripture marks out the true God from false ones by sure evidences.

14.1. Although Isaiah rightly reproaches the worshippers of false gods for their slothfulness, because they did not learn from the foundations of the earth and the circuit of the heavens who the true God is (Isaiah 40:21), yet such is the dullness and slowness of our intellect that it was necessary, lest the faithful should fall away to the figments of the Gentiles, that the true God be portrayed to them more clearly. For since the description considered most tolerable among the philosophers—namely, that God is the mind of the world—is vain and fleeting, it is worthwhile that He should be made more familiarly known to us, lest we always waver in uncertainty. Therefore, He willed that the history of creation should exist, so that the faith of the Church, founded upon it, might seek no other God than Him whom Moses sets forth as the Maker and Creator of the world.

Therein, time is first marked, so that the faithful, by a continuous series of years, might reach the very origin of the human race and of all things—a knowledge most useful, not only to guard against the monstrous fables that once flourished in Egypt and in other parts of the world, but also that, by knowing the beginning of the world, the eternity of God might shine forth more clearly and draw us into greater admiration of Him.

Nor indeed should we be moved by that profane scoffing, which finds it strange why it did not occur to God sooner to create heaven and earth, but that He allowed an immense interval of idleness to pass by—seeing that He could have created them countless ages earlier, and that the world, now approaching its end, has not yet reached six thousand years. For why God delayed so long is neither lawful for us to inquire nor expedient: because if the human mind tries to penetrate so far, it will fail a hundred times along the way. Nor would it be useful to know that which God Himself, to test our humility, has willed to conceal.

Indeed, that pious old man gave a shrewd answer when some impious scoffer mockingly asked him what God was doing before He created the world. He replied, “He was fashioning hell for the curious.” This admonition, as weighty as it is severe, should curb that wantonness which entices many and drives them into perverse and harmful speculations.

Let us then remember that this invisible God, whose wisdom, power, and righteousness are incomprehensible, has set before us the history of Moses as a mirror in which His living image is reflected. For just as eyes weakened by age or dulled by some other defect see nothing distinctly unless aided by mirrors, so, given our weakness, unless Scripture guides us in seeking God, we immediately go astray.

As for those who indulge their own petulance, since they are now warned in vain, they shall feel too late by dreadful destruction how much better it would have been to revere God’s secret counsels than to vomit forth blasphemies to obscure heaven.

And rightly does Augustine complain that God is wronged when a cause for His will is sought beyond His will itself (De Genesi contra Manichaeos). Elsewhere, too, he wisely notes that it is just as improper to raise questions about the immense extent of time as it is about space (City of God, Book 11). Certainly, however wide the circuit of the heavens, it still has some measure. Now, if someone were to complain to God that the void exceeds it a hundredfold, would not such insolence be detestable to all the godly?

Those who rail against God’s supposed idleness, because in their judgment He did not create the world ages ago, are seized by the same madness. To gratify their desire, they wish to go beyond the bounds of the world, as though in the vast circumference of heaven and earth there were not already enough to overwhelm all our senses by their inestimable splendour; as though God had not in the span of six thousand years given enough proofs, by continual testimonies, to occupy our minds in constant meditation.

Therefore, let us remain enclosed within those bounds by which God willed to confine us, and let us, so to speak, gather our thoughts inward, lest by wandering too freely, they be scattered and lost.

2. It is for the same reason that Moses recounts that God’s work was not completed in a moment, but distributed over six days. For by this detail also, we are drawn away from all fantasies to the one true God who ordered His work over six days, so that it might not be burdensome for us to occupy ourselves with its contemplation throughout the whole course of our life.

For although our eyes, wherever they turn, are compelled to be engaged with the view of God’s works, yet we see how fleeting our attention is, and how quickly any pious thoughts that touch us pass away.

Here too human reason objects, as though such a progression were foreign to the power of God— until, subdued to the obedience of faith, it learns to cherish that rest to which we are invited by the sanctification of the seventh day. But in the very order of creation, we ought carefully to consider the fatherly love of God toward mankind: that He did not create Adam until He had enriched the world with a full abundance of good things. For had He placed him on the earth while it was still barren and void, or given him life before light, He would have seemed to have little regard for man’s benefit.

But now, when He has arranged the motion of the sun and stars for human use,
filled the earth, waters, and air with living creatures, and brought forth an abundance of every kind of fruit sufficient for food, He has taken up the care of a provident and diligent householder and displayed His wondrous goodness toward us.

These things I only briefly touch upon; but whoever considers them more attentively in his own heart will be convinced that Moses was a faithful witness and herald of God, the only Creator. I omit what I have already explained—that the text speaks not only of the bare essence of God, but also presents His eternal Wisdom and Spirit to us, so that we do not imagine another god than the One who desires to be known in that express image.

3. Before I begin to speak more fully about the nature of man, something must be inserted concerning the angels. For although Moses, accommodating himself to the ignorance of the common people, does not mention any of God’s works in the creation narrative except those that meet our eyes, yet when later he introduces the angels as ministers of God, it is easy to gather that He who employs their service and assigns them their duties must also be their Creator.

Therefore, although Moses, speaking popularly, did not list the angels among the creatures of God from the very beginning, there is nonetheless nothing to prevent us from stating clearly and explicitly what Scripture teaches elsewhere throughout about them. For if we wish to know God by His works, such a splendid and noble example ought by no means to be overlooked. Add to this that this part of doctrine is very necessary for refuting many errors.

The excellence of the angelic nature has so impressed the minds of many
that they thought it an injury to the angels to be subjected to the rule of the one God, as though being reduced to rank. Hence, divinity was ascribed to them. From this also sprang Manichaeus with his sect, who invented two principles for himself—God and the devil. To God he attributed the origin of good things, but referred evil natures to the devil as their author. If this delirium were to ensnare our minds, God would be deprived of His glory in the creation of the world. For since nothing is more proper to God than eternity and autousia—that is, existence from Himself—those who ascribe this to the devil are, in a certain sense, adorning him with the title of divinity.

And where then is the omnipotence of God, if such power is granted to the devil that, against God’s will and in opposition to Him, he may still carry out whatever he desires?The one foundation the Manichees hold—that it is blasphemy to assign the creation of any evil thing to the good God—does not in the least harm the orthodox faith,
which does not admit that there is any evil nature in the universe.

For neither the depravity and malice of man nor of the devil, nor the sins which arise from them, are from nature, but from the corruption of nature. And there has been nothing at all from the beginning in which God has not manifested some example of His wisdom and justice.

Therefore, to oppose these perverse inventions, it is necessary to lift our minds higher than our eyes can reach. And for this reason, it is likely that when God is called the Creator of all things in the Nicene Creed, invisible things are expressly included. Yet we must take care to keep to the proper bounds which piety prescribes, so that by speculating beyond what is expedient, the reader is not drawn away from the simplicity of faith.

And indeed, since the Spirit always teaches us to our benefit, in those matters where there is little value for edification, He either remains entirely silent, or touches on them only briefly and lightly. It is also our duty to be content to remain ignorant of those things which do not contribute to our spiritual profit.

4. Now that angels are ministers appointed to execute God’s commands, it should be beyond controversy that they also are his creatures. But as to the time or the order in which they were created, is it not rather a matter of stubbornness than of diligence to raise contention? Moses tells us [Gen. 2:1] that the earth was finished, and the heavens, with all their host: what advantage is there in anxiously inquiring on which particular day, besides the stars and planets, the more hidden armies of heaven began to exist?

To be brief, let us remember that here, as in all of religious doctrine, we must be held to a single rule of modesty and sobriety: namely, that we neither speak nor think nor even desire to know anything concerning obscure matters except what has been delivered to us by the Word of God.

Secondly, that in reading Scripture we should remain constantly given to searching and meditating upon those things which pertain to edification, not indulging in curiosity or the pursuit of unprofitable things. And since the Lord willed to instruct us not in frivolous questions, but in solid piety, the fear of his name, true confidence, and the duties of holiness, let us be content in that knowledge.

Wherefore, if we would be rightly minded, we must leave aside those mataiōmata—vain speculations—which idle men pass on concerning the nature, ranks, and multitude of angels, without the Word of God.

I know that many seize upon these things with eagerness, and find more delight in them than in the things which serve everyday use. But unless we are ashamed to be Christ’s disciples, let us not be ashamed to follow the method which he himself has prescribed. So it will come to pass, that being content with his instruction, we shall not only abstain from, but even abhor those superfluous speculations from which he calls us back.

As for that Dionysius—whoever he was—no one will deny that he disputed many things with subtlety and wit concerning the celestial hierarchy. But if one examines more closely, he will discover that it is for the most part sheer babbling. But it is the theologian’s task not to entertain the ears by chatter, but to confirm consciences by teaching what is true, certain, and useful. If you read that book, you would think the man had fallen from heaven and reported not what he learned, but what he saw with his eyes. Yet Paul, who was caught up beyond the third heaven [2 Cor. 12:2], not only disclosed nothing of the kind, but also declared that it was unlawful for a man to speak the things he had seen.

Therefore, let that foolish wisdom be cast away. Let us consider from the simple doctrine of Scripture only what the Lord has willed that we should know concerning his angels.

5. It is read everywhere in Scripture that angels are heavenly spirits, whose ministry and service God employs to accomplish all that he has decreed. From this comes the name angel, which is given to them because God uses them as messengers to make himself known to men.

Other titles ascribed to them are taken in like manner. They are called hosts (exercitus), because, like bodyguards surrounding a prince, they adorn and render visible his majesty. They are like soldiers ever attentive to the signal of their captain—so ready and equipped to carry out his commands that they are in the very act of doing them the moment he gives assent, or rather, they are already at work.

Such is the image presented of the throne of God by the prophets when they wish to declare his magnificence—especially Daniel, who says that a thousand thousands stood before him, and ten thousand times ten thousand ministered unto him when God sat in judgment (Dan. 7:10).

Moreover, because the Lord by them wondrously exerts and displays the power of his hand, they are called powers (virtutes). And because he administers and exercises his government of the world by their means, they are sometimes named principalities, sometimes powers, and sometimes dominions (Col. 1:16; Eph. 1:21). Finally, because in some way the glory of God resides in them, they are also called thrones—though concerning this last term I would not assert anything positively, for another interpretation is equally or even more fitting. Still, omitting that one, the Holy Spirit often uses the other titles to commend the dignity of angelic ministry.

Nor is it right that those instruments by which God peculiarly manifests his presence should be passed over without honour. Indeed, for this reason they are not once only called gods, because in their ministry, as in a mirror, they partially represent to us the divine nature.

Although I do not object to the interpretation of the early writers, who hold that the “Angel of the Lord” who appeared to Abraham, Jacob, Moses, and others was Christ himself (Gen. 18:1; 32:1, 28; Josh. 5:14; Judg. 6:14; 13:22), yet the name “god” is often applied to angels in general where all of them are mentioned.

Nor should this seem strange. If kings and governors are granted such honour (Psalm 82:6), because in their office they bear the image of God, who is the supreme King and Judge, how much more fitting is it that such honour be given to angels, in whom the brightness of divine glory shines far more abundantly?

6. But in that which most serves to console us and to strengthen our faith, Scripture is especially diligent: namely, in teaching that the angels are ministers and dispensers of God’s goodness toward us. It therefore testifies that they keep watch for our salvation, that they take up our defense, direct our paths, and exercise careful oversight that no harm befall us. These declarations are general in nature—first and chiefly applying to Christ, the Head of the Church, and then to all the faithful. “He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone” (Psalm 91:11).

Likewise: “The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them” (Psalm 34:7). By such words, God makes known that he has entrusted to his angels the guardianship of those whom he has undertaken to preserve. In accordance with this, the Angel of the Lord comforts Hagar in her flight and commands her to return and submit herself to her mistress (Gen. 16:9). Abraham assures his servant that the Angel of the Lord shall go before him to prosper his journey (Gen. 24:7). Jacob, in blessing Ephraim and Manasseh, prays that the Angel who redeemed him from all evil would likewise bless the lads (Gen. 48:16). So also, the angel was appointed to guard the camp of Israel (Exod. 14:19; 23:20), and whenever God willed to redeem Israel from the hand of their enemies, it was by the ministry of angels that deliverers were raised up (Judg. 2:1; 6:11; 13:10).

Indeed—to avoid an even longer enumeration—angels ministered to Christ (Matt. 4:11), were present in all his afflictions (Luke 22:43), announced his resurrection to the women and his glorious return to the disciples (Matt. 28:5, 7; Luke 24:5; Acts 1:10). Thus, in fulfilling this office of our protection, they do battle against the devil and all our enemies, and execute the vengeance of God against those who do us harm. As we read: “The angel of the Lord went out and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and eighty-five thousand men in a single night, to deliver Jerusalem from siege” (2 Kings 19:35; Isa. 37:36).

7. As to whether each believer is assigned a particular angel for his defence, I dare not assert it with certainty.

It is true, when Daniel introduces the angel of the Persians and the angel of the Greeks (Dan. 10:13, 20; 12:1), he thereby signifies that certain angels are appointed as rulers over kingdoms and provinces. And when Christ says that the angels of little children always behold the face of the Father (Matt. 18:10), he hints that their safety has been entrusted to certain angels. But whether one may conclude from this that every individual is under the charge of his own angel, I do not know.

This, at least, we must hold for certain: it is not only one angel to whom each of us is committed, but rather, all angels in one accord watch over our salvation.

For it is said of all the angels together that they rejoice more over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-nine just persons who need no repentance (Luke 15:7). And of many angels it is written that they carried the soul of Lazarus into Abraham’s bosom (Luke 16:22).

Nor was it without cause that Elisha showed his servant so many chariots of fire, which had been sent for his protection (2 Kings 6:17).

There is one passage, perhaps clearer than the rest, that seems to confirm the notion: when Peter, having been delivered from prison, knocked at the door of the house where the brethren were gathered, and they could not believe it was he, they said, “It is his angel” (Acts 12:15). This seems to reflect a common belief that each of the faithful has his own angel appointed over him.

Even so, it may still be answered that this need not imply a perpetual guardian, but only that one of the angels had, at that time, been given charge of Peter by the Lord—and yet not so as to be his fixed and personal keeper, as the vulgar imagination fancies: as if each person had two angels assigned to him—one good and one evil—like opposing spirits.

It is not worth our labour to inquire into what brings us little profit to know. For if a man is not satisfied with this—that all the host of heaven stands watch for his safety—I do not see what benefit he can gain by learning that one angel has been specially appointed as his guardian.

And they who confine God’s providence over each of us to the care of a single angel do great wrong both to themselves and to all the members of the Church. As though those auxiliary forces, promised to us for our defence, had been given in vain—though by them we are everywhere encompassed and armed, that we might fight with courage.

8. As for those who dare to define the number and orders of angels, let them see what foundation they have for it. Michael, I admit, is called a great prince in Daniel (Dan. 12:1), and an archangel in Jude (Jude 9). And Paul teaches that it is an archangel who shall sound the trumpet to summon men to judgment (1 Thess. 4:16). But who shall from this presume to establish degrees of honour among angels, to distinguish them one from another by titles, and assign to each his place and station? For the two names found in Scripture—Michael and Gabriel—and a third, if you will add it from the history of Tobit, seem by their meaning to have been given to the angels for the sake of our weakness; though I am content to leave that matter unresolved. As for their number, we hear from the mouth of Christ of many legions (Matt. 26:53), and Daniel speaks of many myriads (Dan. 7:10). Elisha’s servant saw chariots full, and Scripture declares the multitude to be vast when it says they encamp round about them that fear God (Ps. 34:7). It is certain that they lack any bodily form, being spirits. And yet Scripture, accommodating itself to our understanding, does not depict them winged under the names of Cherubim and Seraphim without reason: so that we may not doubt their incredible swiftness to bring us help the instant necessity demands it—as though a flash of lightning were sent from heaven and flew to us with its usual speed. Whatever further might be asked about either matter, let us believe it belongs to that class of mysteries, the full revelation of which is reserved for the last day. Let us then remember to beware both of excessive curiosity in asking and of presumptuous boldness in speaking.

9. Yet this much—though called into doubt by certain restless men—is to be held as certain: that angels are ministering spirits, whose service God uses for the protection of His own, and through whom He both dispenses His benefits among men and executes His other works.

The Sadducees of old indeed held the opinion that nothing was meant by “angels” except either the impulses that God breathes into men, or the effects which are manifestations of His power. But so many testimonies of Scripture cry out against this delirium, that it is a wonder such gross ignorance was ever tolerated among that people.

To pass over the passages I cited above—where thousands and legions of angels are mentioned, where joy is attributed to them, where they are said to bear up the faithful in their hands, to carry their souls to rest, to behold the face of the Father, and the like—there are others by which it is most clearly proved that they are truly spirits of subsisting nature.

For when Stephen and Paul say that the Law was delivered by the hand of angels (Acts 7:53; Gal. 3:19), and when Christ declares that after the resurrection the elect shall be like the angels, and that the day of judgment is known not even to the angels (Matt. 22:30; 24:36), and that He will come with His holy angels (Matt. 25:31; Luke 9:26)—however these texts be twisted, they must be understood as speaking of real beings.

Likewise, when Paul adjures Timothy before Christ and His elect angels to keep his commandments (1 Tim. 5:21), he does not refer to qualities or inspirations without substance, but to true spirits.

And what is written in the Epistle to the Hebrews cannot stand otherwise—that Christ was made more excellent than the angels, that the world to come is not subject to them, that Christ took on not the nature of angels but of men (Heb. 1:4; 2:16)—unless we understand these angels to be blessed spirits, upon whom these comparisons fall.

The author of that epistle declares himself clearly when he speaks of the kingdom of God, where he joins together the souls of the faithful with the holy angels (Heb. 12:22).

Moreover, as we cited earlier: that the angels of children always behold the face of God; that we are defended by their protection; that they rejoice in our salvation; that they marvel at the manifold grace of God in the Church; and that they are subject to Christ the Head—all these belong to the same truth.

To the same end it pertains that they so often appeared to the holy patriarchs in human form, spoke with them, and were even received into hospitality.

And Christ Himself, because of the preeminence He holds in the person of the Mediator, is called the Angel (Mal. 3:1).

This I have touched on briefly, to arm the simple against those foolish and absurd imaginations which, though stirred up by Satan many ages ago, continue now and then to sprout afresh.

10. It remains for us to address the superstition which generally creeps in whenever it is said that angels are the ministers and dispensers of all good things to us. For the human mind immediately slips into the notion that all honour must be paid to them. Thus it happens that things which belong to God alone—and to Christ—are transferred to them. Indeed, we see how in several past ages the glory of Christ was in many ways obscured, while angels, apart from the Word of God, were extolled with extravagant praises.

Nor is this one of the newer errors which we oppose today. Paul, indeed, seems to have contended strenuously with some who so highly exalted the angels that they almost reduced Christ to the same level. Hence his careful insistence in the Epistle to the Colossians that Christ must not only be preferred above all the angels, but that He is Himself the author of all blessings [Col. 1:16 and 2:20], so that we might not forsake Him and turn to those who cannot even suffice for themselves, but draw from the same fountain as we do.

Surely, since in them the brightness of the divine majesty shines, nothing is more natural than that we should be struck with awe and fall down before them in adoration, attributing to them all that is due to God alone. This, in fact, John himself confesses to have happened to him in the Apocalypse. But he also records the response given to him: ‘See thou do it not: I am thy fellow-servant… worship God’ [Rev. 19:10].

11. Yet we shall guard well against danger if we consider why God is pleased to declare His power, to care for the salvation of the faithful, and to communicate the gifts of His beneficence through angels, rather than acting directly and without their involvement.

He certainly does not do this out of necessity, as though He could not do without them. For whenever He wills, He performs His work by His mere nod, without them at all. They are so far from being needed to ease His burden that their help is not required in the least.

The purpose of their ministry, then, is for the consolation of our weakness—so that we should lack nothing which might serve to lift up our hearts to hope or to confirm them in confidence.

Indeed, this one thing alone ought to be more than enough for us: that the Lord declares Himself to be our Protector. But when we see ourselves surrounded by so many dangers, so many harms, so many kinds of enemies—given our weakness and frailty—it may come to pass that we are overtaken by fear or even collapse into despair, unless the Lord, in proportion to our capacity, makes us able to apprehend the presence of His grace.

Therefore, in this way He not only promises to care for us, but He tells us that He has innumerable agents to whom He has entrusted the care of our salvation. While we are surrounded by their protection and guardianship, however great the danger may be, we are placed entirely beyond the reach of harm.

It is true that we do wrong in this: that after the simple promise of God’s protection, we still look around for help elsewhere. But because the Lord, in His boundless kindness and graciousness, is willing to condescend to this infirmity of ours, we ought not to neglect so great a benefit.

We have an example of this in the servant of Elisha. When he saw the mountain surrounded by the army of the Syrians and found no way of escape, he was struck with fear, thinking that he and his master were undone. Elisha then prayed that God would open the young man’s eyes. Immediately, he beheld the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire—a host of angels—by whom the Prophet was to be protected (2 Kings 6:17). Strengthened by this vision, he recovered himself and was able to look without fear upon the enemies whose appearance had nearly caused him to faint.

12. Whatever is said, therefore, concerning the ministry of angels, let us direct it to this end: that all unbelief being cast down, our hope in God may be the more firmly established. For these aids are appointed for us by the Lord—not so that we may be dismayed at the number of our enemies, as though their strength could prevail against His help—but that we may take refuge in the saying of Elisha: ‘They that be with us are more than they that be with them.’ [2 Kings 6:16].

How perverse it is, then, to be drawn away from God by the angels, when they are set for the very purpose of bearing witness to the nearness of His aid? Yet they do draw us away, if they do not lead us straight by the hand to Him—that we might look to Him alone, call upon Him alone, and proclaim Him alone as our helper; if they do not teach us to consider them as His hands, which move to no work except by His direction; if they do not hold us fixed in the one Mediator, Christ, that we may depend wholly upon Him, rest in Him, be borne toward Him, and find full satisfaction in Him.

For what is described in the vision of Jacob ought to be firmly fixed and rooted in our minds: that angels descend to men and ascend from men to heaven by a ladder on which stands the Lord of Hosts [Genesis 28:12–13]. By this is signified that only through the intercession of Christ do the ministries of angels reach us—just as He Himself affirms: ‘Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man’ [John 1:51].

Thus also Abraham’s servant, though commended to the guardianship of an angel, did not on that account call upon the angel to be present with him. Rather, trusting in that commendation, he poured out his prayer before the Lord and asked Him to show kindness to Abraham [Genesis 24:7].

For as God appoints them ministers of His power and goodness, it is not that He may share His glory with them; so neither does He promise us help by their ministry in such a way that we should divide our trust between Him and them. Away, therefore, with that Platonic superstition, that we must seek access to God by means of angels, and render worship to them in order to make Him more favourable to us [see Plato, Epinomis and Cratylus]—a superstition which curious and superstitious men have attempted to bring into our religion from the beginning, and which persists to this day.

13. Whatever Scripture teaches concerning devils is chiefly directed to this end: that we may be stirred up to vigilance in guarding against their plots and assaults, and that we may arm ourselves with weapons strong and sufficient to repel such powerful enemies.

For when Satan is called the god and prince of this world, a strong man armed, the spirit that worketh in the air, and a roaring lion, all these descriptions are meant to rouse us to greater caution and watchfulness, and to prepare us for battle.

Indeed, Scripture itself sometimes makes this intention explicit. Peter, after saying that the devil goeth about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour [1 Pet. 5:8], immediately adds the exhortation that we are to resist him steadfast in the faith. Likewise Paul, having warned that our conflict is not with flesh and blood, but with principalities, powers of the air, and spiritual wickedness in high places [Eph. 6:12], commands us straightway to take up arms fit for such a great and perilous warfare.

Let us then give all diligence to this end: that being forewarned of an enemy so daring in boldness, so mighty in strength, so cunning in craft, so unwearied in diligence and speed, so well-furnished with all manner of stratagems, so well-trained in the art of war—that we do not, through sloth or cowardice, allow ourselves to be overcome. Rather, let us stand firm, with souls alert and steadfast, resolved to resist. And since this warfare ceases only with death, let us be stirred up to perseverance.

Above all, being deeply conscious of our own frailty and inexperience, let us call upon God for help, and attempt nothing unless we rely wholly upon Him—for it is He alone who supplies both wisdom and strength, courage and armour for the battle.

14. In order that we may be more fully aroused and pressed to vigilance, Scripture does not merely warn us of one or a few enemies, but declares that vast hosts wage war against us.

Mary Magdalene, for instance, is said to have been delivered from seven devils that possessed her [Mark 16:9]; and Christ Himself testifies that it is the common case, that when a devil is cast out, if the heart is left open, he returns with seven spirits more wicked than himself and repossesses the vacant house [Matt. 12:43–45]. Indeed, an entire legion is said to have taken possession of a single man [Luke 8:30].

By these testimonies we are taught that we must contend against an innumerable host of enemies, lest, by underestimating their number, we should become slack in our warfare or suppose that there are intervals of rest, and so indulge ourselves in idleness.

And though the singular form—Satan or the Devil—is often used, this serves to mark out that principality of iniquity which stands in direct opposition to the kingdom of righteousness. For just as the Church and the fellowship of the saints has Christ for its Head, so the faction of the wicked and impiety itself is set before us as having its prince—who holds supreme rule in that domain.

Thus it is said, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels [Matt. 25:41].

15. This also ought to stir us to engage more constantly in warfare against the devil: that he is everywhere described as the adversary both of God and of ourselves.

For if we care at all for the glory of God—as we ought—we must with all our strength contend against him who labours to extinguish it. If we are rightly zealous for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom, we must wage an irreconcilable war with him who conspires for its overthrow. Likewise, if any concern for our own salvation moves us, there can be no peace or truce with him who unceasingly lays snares for our destruction.

Such is his portrayal in Genesis 3, where he draws man away from the obedience owed to God—thereby stripping God of His rightful honour, and casting man headlong into ruin. Such also is his character in the Gospels, where he is called the enemy [Matt. 13:28], and is said to sow tares to corrupt the seed of eternal life.

In sum, what Christ testifies of him—that he was a murderer from the beginning and the father of lies [John 8:44]—is confirmed in all his works. By his lies he fights against the truth of God; he darkens light with shadow; he entangles the minds of men with error; he foments hatred, stirs up quarrels, and inflames contentions—all to this end: to overthrow the kingdom of God and plunge mankind with himself into everlasting ruin.

From this it is evident that he is by nature depraved, wicked, and full of malice. For such perverse corruption must surely dwell in a being originally created with the noblest nature, to aim at the glory of God and the salvation of men.

This is also what John means in his epistle when he says that the devil sinneth from the beginning [1 John 3:8], signifying that he is the author, leader, and architect of all malice and iniquity.

16. Yet although the devil was created by God, let us remember that the wickedness which we attribute to his nature is not from his creation, but from his corruption. For whatever he possesses that is damnable, he acquired by his own revolt and fall. Scripture warns us of this, lest we imagine that he came forth from God in that condition, and so ascribe to God what is most alien to Him.

For this reason, Christ declares that Satan speaks from his own resources when he lies [John 8:44], and he explains it by saying that he did not abide in the truth. Surely, in denying that he remained in the truth, He implies that Satan was once in it. And when He calls him the father of lies, He thereby strips him of any excuse that would shift the blame onto God—making Satan the author of his own fault.

Though these things are spoken briefly and somewhat obscurely, they are fully sufficient to vindicate the majesty of God from all calumny. And indeed, what does it matter to us to know more about the devil—whether many things, or in greater detail?

Some complain that Scripture does not set forth in order and detail the fall of Satan—its cause, manner, time, and form—in multiple places. But since these things are of no benefit to us, it was better that they be either altogether omitted, or at most lightly touched upon. For it was not worthy of the Holy Spirit to feed idle curiosity with barren tales. And we see clearly that it was the Lord’s purpose to communicate nothing in His sacred oracles that did not tend to our edification.

Therefore, let us not dwell on unprofitable matters, but be content with this brief account of the nature of devils: that they were, at first creation, angels of God, but by degenerating they brought ruin upon themselves, and have since become instruments of destruction to others.

Because it is useful for us to know this, it is clearly taught by Peter and Jude. “God,” they say, “did not spare the angels that sinned and did not keep their proper domain, but left their own habitation” [2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6]. And when Paul refers to the elect angels [1 Tim. 5:21], he clearly implies, by contrast, angels that are reprobate.

17. As for the enmity and conflict that we say exists between Satan and God, it must be understood in such a way that this fixed principle remains firm: that Satan can do nothing unless God wills and permits it.

For we read in the story of Job that Satan presents himself before God to receive commands, and does not dare to proceed with any evil deed unless permission is first obtained [Job 1:6; 2:1]. Likewise, when Ahab is to be deceived, Satan offers to be a lying spirit in the mouth of all the prophets, and, being sent by the Lord, he accomplishes this [1 Kings 22:20].

For this reason also, the “evil spirit from the Lord” is said to have tormented Saul—because, like a scourge, it was used to punish the sins of that wicked king [1 Sam. 16:14; 18:10]. And elsewhere it is written that the plagues upon the Egyptians were inflicted by God through evil angels [Psalm 78:49].

According to these particular examples, Paul also bears general witness that the blinding of unbelievers is the work of God, even though he had previously attributed it to the operation of Satan [2 Thess. 2:9,11].

It is therefore evident that Satan is under God’s power, and is so governed by His will that he is compelled to render obedience. Furthermore, when we say that Satan resists God and that his works are opposed to God’s works, we affirm at the same time that this opposition and conflict depend upon God’s permission.

I am not speaking here of Satan’s will or his intent, but only of the effect. Since the devil is by nature wicked, he is not inclined to obey the divine will, but is entirely driven toward defiance and rebellion. This he has from himself and from his own wickedness—that in desire and purpose he opposes God.

It is by this perversity that he is driven to attempt those things which he supposes to be most contrary to God. But since God holds him bound and restrained by the bridle of His power, Satan only carries out what has been divinely granted to him. Thus, whether he wills it or not, he must serve his Creator—being compelled to carry out His bidding wherever He directs him.

18. Now then, since God bends unclean spirits here and there as He pleases, He governs them in such a way that they exercise the faithful through warfare: they assail them with ambushes, provoke them with incursions, press upon them in combat, often harass, trouble, frighten, and sometimes even wound them—but they never conquer nor overwhelm them. The wicked, however, being subdued, are dragged along by them; they exert dominion over their minds and bodies and abuse them as slaves for every kind of crime.

As for the faithful, since they are troubled by such enemies, they hear these exhortations: “Neither give place to the devil” [Ephesians 4:27], “Your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: whom resist steadfast in the faith” [1 Peter 5:8], and others like it. Paul confesses that he was not exempt from this kind of struggle, when he writes that a messenger of Satan was given to him to buffet him, lest he be exalted above measure [2 Corinthians 12:7].

Therefore, this warfare is common to all the children of God. But because the promise concerning the bruising of the serpent’s head [Genesis 3:15] pertains to Christ and all His members together, I affirm that the faithful can never be overcome or utterly crushed by him. Indeed, they are often thrown into disarray, but not so that they cannot recover themselves; they fall under the violence of his blows, but then rise again; they are wounded, but not mortally. Finally, they struggle through the whole course of this life so as to obtain victory in the end—yet I do not limit this to each individual action. For we know that by the just judgment of God, Satan was allowed for a time to prompt David to number the people [2 Samuel 24:1]. Nor does Paul leave out hope of pardon even for those who have been caught in the snares of the devil.

Therefore, elsewhere the same Paul shows that the above-mentioned promise begins in this life, where the struggle takes place, and will be fulfilled afterwards, when he says: “The God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly” [Romans 16:20]. Indeed, in our Head this victory has always been fully present, for the prince of this world had nothing in Him. But in us, His members, it is now only partial—it will be perfected when we, stripped of our flesh (by which we are still subject to weakness), shall be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit.

In this manner, wherever the kingdom of Christ is raised up and strengthened, Satan with all his power is cast down; as the Lord Himself says: “I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven” [Luke 10:18]. With this answer He confirms what the Apostles had reported concerning the power of their preaching. Likewise: “When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace: but when a stronger than he shall come upon him… he taketh from him all his armour…” [Luke 11:21–22].

And to this end, Christ by dying conquered Satan, who had the power of death, and triumphed over all his forces, so that they may not harm the Church. Otherwise, he would crush it a hundred times over in every moment. For—considering our weakness and his furious strength—how could we even stand a moment against his multiplied and constant assaults unless we were supported by the victory of our Captain?

Therefore, God does not allow Satan to rule in the souls of the faithful, but hands over only the ungodly and unbelieving to be governed by him, those whom He deems unworthy to be counted among His flock. For it is said that he undoubtedly possesses this world until he is cast out by Christ. Also, he is said to blind all who do not believe the Gospel [2 Corinthians 4:4], and to perform his work in the children of disobedience [Ephesians 2:2]. And rightly so: for all the ungodly are vessels of wrath. To whom, then, more fitly should they be subjected than to the minister of divine vengeance?

Finally, they are said to be of their father the devil [John 8:44], for just as the faithful are acknowledged as sons of God by bearing His image, so those who have degenerated into the image of Satan are rightly counted his children [1 John 3:8].

19. Now just as above we refuted that trifling philosophy concerning the holy angels, which pretends they are nothing but good inspirations or admonitions stirred up in the minds of men by God, so here we must also rebuke those who foolishly assert that devils are nothing more than evil affections or disturbances injected into us by our own flesh.

We may do this briefly, since Scripture offers not a few and sufficiently clear testimonies concerning the matter. First, when unclean spirits are called apostate angels who have degenerated from their original state, the very names make it plain that these are not mere motions or affections of the mind, but beings who are what they are called—spirits or intelligences possessed of sense and understanding.

Likewise, when the sons of God are compared with the sons of the devil, both by Christ and by John [John 8:44; 1 John 3:10], would it not be absurd to make such a comparison if the name “devil” signified nothing more than evil impulses? John further speaks more plainly when he declares that the devil sinneth from the beginning [1 John 3:8].

Similarly, when Jude introduces Michael the archangel contending with the devil [Jude 9], he clearly opposes to a good angel a fallen and evil one. And this agrees with what we read in the book of Job, that Satan appeared among the holy angels before God [Job 1:6; 2:1].

But clearest of all are those passages which speak of the punishment devils already begin to feel under the judgment of God—and especially the greater torment they shall endure at the resurrection. “Jesus, Son of David, why art thou come hither to torment us before the time?” [Matt. 8:29]. Again: “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels” [Matt. 25:41]. And again: “If God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell and delivered them in chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment” [2 Pet. 2:4].

What nonsensical expressions these would be—speaking of devils destined for eternal judgment, of fire prepared for them, of torment already begun—if devils did not exist at all?

Yet since this matter requires no disputation among those who believe the word of the Lord, and is of little profit with those idle speculators who delight only in novelty and hold nothing in esteem that is not new, I judge I have done what I intended: namely, to arm godly minds against such delirious ravings as are stirred up by unquiet men who disturb both themselves and others.

It was not without cause that we treated this also, lest any who have been ensnared by such an error—thinking they have no enemy—should become thereby the more sluggish and heedless in resisting.

20. Meanwhile, let us not grow weary of drawing holy delight from the manifest and evident works of God, displayed in this most beautiful theatre.

For this, as we have elsewhere said, though not the chief, is by the order of nature the first lesson of faith—that wherever we turn our eyes, all things we behold may remind us they are the works of God, and that we should consider, with reverent thought, to what end He created them.

Therefore, if we are to apprehend by true faith whatever it is profitable for us to know concerning God, it is especially worthwhile to hold fast the account of the world’s creation—how it was briefly set forth by Moses, and afterwards more copiously expounded by the holy fathers, especially Basil and Ambrose.

From that history we learn that God, by the power of His Word and Spirit, created the heavens and the earth out of nothing; then brought forth every kind of creature, both animate and inanimate; distinguished the infinite diversity of things in a wondrous order; impressed upon each species its own nature; assigned roles, and appointed for all things their proper places and stations.

And though all are subject to corruption, yet He provided means whereby every species might be preserved unto the last day. To some He secretly imparts continual nurture, infusing into them as it were new strength from time to time; to others He has granted power to propagate, lest by their own decay they utterly perish.

Thus He adorned heaven and earth, as richly and perfectly as could be, with a profusion of things, with beauty and variety—as though it were a vast and splendid palace, furnished and adorned with the most exquisite and abundant treasures.

Lastly, in forming man and clothing him with such noble beauty, endowing him with so many and such great gifts, He displayed in him the most glorious proof of His works.

But since it is not my present purpose to recount the creation of the world, let it suffice to have touched briefly upon these few points in passing.

It is better, as I have already advised, that readers seek fuller understanding of this subject from Moses and others who have faithfully and diligently committed the history of the world to memory.

21. But as to what end the contemplation of God’s works ought to be directed, and toward what aim it must tend, it is needless to engage in lengthy discussion—

Since this very question has been, for the most part, treated already elsewhere, and as far as our present purpose requires, it may be dispatched in a few words.

Truly, if one would attempt to expound, as is meet, how inestimably God’s wisdom, power, righteousness, and goodness shine forth in the structure of the world, no eloquence, no ornament of speech would ever suffice to match the grandeur of the subject. Nor can there be any doubt that the Lord wills us to be continually engaged in this holy meditation: that as we behold the immense riches of His wisdom, righteousness, goodness, and power reflected in all creatures—as in mirrors—we should not merely glance over them with fleeting eye and vanish in passing (so to speak) from such a view, but rather dwell long and seriously upon these things in our thoughts, turn them over faithfully in our hearts, and call them repeatedly to memory.

But since we are now dealing with a didactic genre, it is meet to refrain from those things that require long declamations. Therefore, to speak more concisely, let the reader understand that he has truly apprehended what it means for God to be the Creator of heaven and earth, if he follows this general rule:

Namely, that he pass not by with ungratefulness, nor with thoughtless or forgetful mind, those virtues of God which are manifestly displayed in His creatures—but rather, let him learn to apply them unto himself, so that his own heart may be deeply affected.

An example of the former is this: when we consider how great must have been the Artificer, who so arranged and ordered this multitude of stars in the heavens with such harmonious pattern, that nothing more beautiful can be imagined to the eye; who fixed some in their stations so that they cannot be moved; gave others a freer course, yet so that in their wandering they stray not beyond appointed bounds; who so tempered the motion of all that days and nights, months, years, and seasons are thereby measured; who even so moderated the inequality of days as we daily perceive it, that there is in it no confusion.

In like manner, when we observe His power in sustaining such an immense mass, in governing the swift revolution of the heavenly spheres, and other such things.

These few examples sufficiently show what it is to acknowledge God’s virtues in the creation of the world.

Otherwise, as I have said, if one were to pursue the matter with full speech, there would be no end; for there are as many miracles of divine power, as many tokens of goodness, as many lessons of wisdom, as there are kinds of things in the world—nay, as there are individual things, whether great or small.

22. There remains another part, which draws nearer to faith itself: that as we observe how God has ordained all things for our good and salvation, we may likewise feel in ourselves—and in the many benefits He has bestowed upon us—His power and grace; and thus be stirred up to place our trust in Him, to call upon Him, to praise Him, and to love Him.

Moreover, God Himself declared that He created all things for man’s sake, and this He showed by the very order of creation, as we noted a little earlier. For it was not without cause that He distributed the making of the world over six days—though it would have been no harder for Him to bring the whole work to perfection in a single moment than by such a gradual advance. Yet in this He chose to commend to us His providence and fatherly care: in that, before forming man, He first prepared all that He foresaw would be useful and beneficial to him.

How great then would be our ingratitude, if we doubted whether this most gracious Father cares for us—when we see that He was mindful of us even before we were born? How wicked would it be, through distrust, to tremble in fear lest His bounty should one day fail us in our need—when we see that such abundance of all good things was poured out for us even while we were yet unborn?

Besides, we hear from Moses that all things in the whole world were subjected to us by His generosity [Gen. 1:28 and 9:2]. Surely He did not do this to mock us with an empty title of dominion. Therefore, nothing will ever be lacking to us so far as it pertains to our salvation.

Finally, to conclude, whenever we speak of God as the Creator of heaven and earth, let us also call to mind that the administration of all things He has created is in His hand and power—and that we are His children, whom He has received into His care to nourish and protect in faith.

Let us therefore expect from Him alone the sum of all good things, and be fully assured that He will never suffer us to lack anything necessary for our salvation. Let our hope depend on none but Him. Let our prayers be directed to Him for all our desires. Let us acknowledge every blessing we receive as His gift, and confess it with thanksgiving. Let us, drawn by such sweetness of goodness and bounty, strive with all our hearts to love and worship Him.

Chapter 15.
What kind of man was created: wherein the powers of the soul, the image of God, free will, and the original integrity of nature are discussed.

1. Now we must speak of the creation of man—not only because among all the works of God it is the most noble and most worthy example of His justice, wisdom, and goodness, but also because, as we said at the beginning, we cannot clearly and solidly know God without also coming to a corresponding knowledge of ourselves.

Although this knowledge is twofold—namely, that we should know both what sort of beings we were created in the beginning, and what our condition has become since the fall of Adam (indeed, it would not benefit us much to know our creation unless we also recognized in this wretched ruin what the corruption and deformity of our nature is)—yet for now we shall be content with a description of man’s original integrity.

For truly, before we descend to that miserable condition to which man is now subject, it is worthwhile to understand what he was like when first created. For we must be careful lest, by setting forth the natural evils of man too precisely, we seem to impute them to the Author of nature. For impiety thinks it has enough defense if it can claim that whatever faults it has proceeded in some way from God. And if it is rebuked, it does not hesitate to argue with God Himself and transfer the blame to Him, whose justice rightly condemns it.

Even those who wish to speak more religiously about God are nonetheless quick to excuse their depravity by blaming nature—without realizing that in so doing they reproach God (though less directly). For it would be an insult to God if it could be proven that any fault was present in His creation.

Since we see, therefore, that the flesh seizes on every excuse by which it may shift the blame for its sins away from itself, this malice must be diligently opposed. So the wretched condition of mankind must be treated in such a way as to cut off all evasion, and that the righteousness of God may be fully vindicated from every slander.

Later, in its proper place, we shall see how far men now fall from that purity with which Adam was adorned.

First, however, it must be understood that, since man was taken from the earth and clay, a bridle was thereby placed upon his pride—for it is utterly absurd for one to boast of his own excellence who not only dwells in a clay hovel, but is himself made from earth and ashes.

Yet, that God did not only deign to animate such an earthen vessel but also willed that it should be the dwelling place of an immortal spirit—Adam had good reason to glory in such great generosity from his Creator.

2. Furthermore, it ought to be beyond all controversy that man consists of soul and body; and by the word soul, I understand an immortal essence, though created, which is the nobler part of him. Sometimes it is called spirit; for although, when these terms are joined together, they may bear different nuances of meaning, yet when spirit is used alone, it signifies the same as soul. Thus Solomon, speaking of death, says that the spirit returns to God who gave it (Eccles. 12:7). So also, when Christ commends His spirit to the Father (Luke 23:46), and Stephen likewise to Christ (Acts 7:59), they mean nothing else than that the soul, loosed from the prison-house of the body, is preserved by God forever.

But those who imagine the soul to be called spirit merely because it is a breath, or a divine energy infused into bodies which nevertheless lacks proper essence—such persons err most grossly. Both the thing itself and the whole of Scripture clearly refute them. Indeed, while men remain too much attached to the earth, they grow dull—yea, being alienated from the Father of lights, they are blinded in darkness so as not to reflect on their survival after death—yet the light is not altogether extinguished in that darkness, but they are still touched by a sense of their immortality.

Conscience itself, which discerns between good and evil and bears witness to the judgment of God, is an undoubted proof of an immortal spirit. For how could motion without essence penetrate to the tribunal of God and strike terror from guilt? It is not the body that is affected by fear of spiritual punishment, but the soul alone; whence it follows that it has essence. Moreover, the very knowledge of God is sufficient to demonstrate that souls which transcend the world are immortal; for their energy would not attain to the fountain of life if it were fading and perishable.

Lastly, the many splendid faculties with which the human mind is adorned proclaim that something divine is engraved upon it, and these are all testimonies to the soul’s immortal being. For the sense which animals possess does not extend beyond the body, or, at most, no farther than to objects directly present to them. But the agility of the human mind, exploring heaven and earth and the secrets of nature, embracing ages past and to come in its understanding and memory, arranging things in their proper order, and drawing future conclusions from past events—clearly proves that in man there lies something distinct from the body.

We conceive of the invisible God and of angels by our understanding—something the body cannot do. We grasp things that are right, just, and honourable, though they lie hidden from bodily senses. Therefore, this intelligence must have its seat in the spirit.

Even sleep, which seems to strip man of life and render him insensible, is no obscure witness of immortality: for not only does it suggest thoughts of things that never happened, but it also presents glimpses of things yet to come.

I touch on these briefly, though profane writers often exalt them with more elaborate rhetoric. But for devout readers, a simple reminder will suffice.

Now, if the soul were not an essential being distinct from the body, Scripture would not teach that we dwell in houses of clay, and that in death we depart from the tabernacle of the flesh; nor would it say that we cast off what is corruptible in order to receive reward at the last day according as each one has conducted himself in the body.

Indeed, such passages and many like them not only clearly distinguish the soul from the body, but, in referring the name man to the soul, show it to be the principal part.

When Paul exhorts believers to cleanse themselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit (2 Cor. 7:1), he identifies two parts in which sin’s defilement resides. Likewise, when Peter calls Christ the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls (1 Pet. 2:25), he would speak foolishly unless souls existed for Him to shepherd.

His doctrine of the eternal salvation of souls (1 Pet. 1:9), and his command that we purify our souls and that fleshly lusts war against the soul (1 Pet. 2:11), and the Epistle to the Hebrews’ assertion that pastors watch over our souls (Heb. 13:17), all demand that the soul be a proper, distinct essence.

So too, when Paul calls God to witness upon his soul, he acknowledges that the soul would not stand guilty before God unless subject to punishment.

Christ expresses this even more plainly when He commands us to fear Him who can destroy both body and soul in hell (Matt. 10:28; Luke 12:5).

And when the author to the Hebrews distinguishes our earthly fathers from God, who is the Father of spirits (Heb. 12:9), he could not more clearly affirm the soul’s essence.

Moreover, if souls, when loosed from the prison of the body, did not survive, it would be absurd for Christ to describe Lazarus’s soul rejoicing in Abraham’s bosom, and the soul of the rich man suffering torment (Luke 16:22–23). Paul confirms this too, saying that we are absent from the Lord while we are at home in the body, but that we enjoy His presence when out of the body (2 Cor. 5:6, 8).

Not to prolong this matter, which is not obscure, I add only this from Luke: among the errors of the Sadducees is counted their denial that there are spirits and angels (Acts 23:8).

3.