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[TRANSLATED BY THE REV. S. THELWALL.]
Repentance, men understand, so far as nature is able, to be an
emotion of the mind arising from disgust' at some previously cherished
worse sentiment: that kind of men I mean which even we ourselves were
in days gone by—blind, without the Lord's light. From the reason of
repentance, however, they are just as far as they are from the Author
of reason Himself. Reason, in fact, is a thing of God, inasmuch as
there is nothing which God the Maker of all has not provided, disposed,
ordained by reason—nothing which He has not willed should be handled
and understood by reason. All, therefore, who are ignorant of God, must
necessarily be ignorant also of a thing which is His, because no
treasure-house[3] at all is accessible to strangers. And thus, voyaging
all the universal course of life without the rudder of reason, they
know not how to shun the hurricane which is impending over the
world.[4] Moreover, how irrationally they behave in the practice of
repentance, it will be enough briefly to show just by this one fact,
that they! exercise it even in the case of their good deeds. They
repent of good faith, of love, of simple-heartedness, of patience, of
mercy, just in proportion as any deed prompted by these feelings has
fallen on thankless soil. They execrate their own selves for having
done good; and that species chiefly of repentance which is applied to
the best works they fix in their heart, making it their care to
remember never again to do a good turn. On repentance for evil deeds,
on the contrary, they lay lighter stress. In short, they make this same
(virtue) a means of sinning more readily than a means of right-doing.
But if they acted as men who had any part in God, and thereby in reason also, they would first weigh well the importance of repentance, and would never apply it in such a way as to make it a ground for convicting themselves of perverse self-amendment. In short, they would regulate the limit of their repentance, because they would reach (a limit) in sinning too—by fearing God, I mean. But where there is no fear, in like manner there is no amendment; where there is no amendment, repentance is of necessity vain, for it lacks the fruit for which God sowed it; that is, man's salvation. For God—after so many and so great sins of human temerity, begun by the first of the race, Adam, after the condemnation of man, together with the dowry of the world? after his ejection from paradise and subjection to death—when He had hasted back to His own mercy, did from that time onward inaugurate repentance in His own self, by rescinding the sentence of His first wrath, engaging to grant pardon to His own work and image.[6] And so He gathered together a people for Himself, and fostered them with many liberal distributions of His bounty, and, after so often finding them most ungrateful, ever exhorted them to repentance and sent out the voices of the universal company of the prophets to prophesy. By and by, promising freely the grace which in the last times He was intending to pour as a flood of light on the universal world[7] through His Spirit, He bade the baptism of repentance lead the way, with the view of first preparing,[1] by means of the sign and seal of repentance, them whom He was calling, through grace, to (inherit) the promise surely made to Abraham. John holds not his peace, saying, "Enter upon repentance, for now shall salvation approach the nations"[2]—the Lord, that is, bringing salvation according to God's promise. To Him John, as His harbinger, directed the repentance (which he preached), whose province was the purging of men's minds,that whatever defilement inveterate error had imparted, whatever contamination in the heart of man ignorance had engendered, that repentance should sweep and scrape away, and cast out of doors, and thus prepare the home of the heart, by making it clean, for the Holy Spirit, who was about to supervene, that He might with pleasure introduce Himself there-into, together with His celestial blessings. Of these blessings the title is briefly one the salvation of man—the abolition of former sins being the preliminary step. This[3] is the (final) cause of repentance, this her work, in taking in hand the business of divine mercy. What is profitable to man does service to God. The rule of repentance, however, which we learn when we know the Lord, retains a definite form,—viz., that no violent hands so to speak, be ever laid on good deeds or thoughts.[4] For God, never giving His sanction to the reprobation of good deeds, inasmuch as they are His own (of which, being the author, He must necessarily be the defender too), is in like manner the acceptor of them, and if the acceptor, likewise the rewarder. Let, then, the ingratitude of men see to it,[5] if it attaches repentance even to good works; let their gratitude see to it too, if the desire of earning it be the incentive to well-doing: earthly and mortal are they each. For how small is your gain if you do good to a grateful man! or your loss if to an ungrateful! A good deed has God as its debtor, just as an evil has too; for a judge is rewarder of every cause. Well, since, God as Judge presides over the exacting and maintaining[6] of justice, which to Him is most dear; and since it is with an eye to justice that He appoints all the sum of His discipline, is there room for doubting that, just as in all our acts universally, so also in the case of repentance, justice must be rendered to God?—which duty can indeed only be fulfilled on the condition that repentance be brought to bear only on sins. Further, no deed but an evil one deserves to be called sin, nor does any one err by well-doing. But if he does not err, why does he invade (the province of) repentance, the private ground of such as do err ? Why does he impose on his goodness a duty proper to wickedness? Thus it comes to pass that, when a thing is called into play where it ought not, there, where it ought, it is neglected.
What things, then, they be for which repentance seems just and
due—that is, what things are to be set down under the head of sin—the
occasion indeed demands that I should note down; but (to do so) may
seem to be unnecessary. For when the Lord is known, our spirit, having
been" looked back upon"[8] by its own Author, emerges unbidden into the
knowledge of the truth; and being admitted to (an acquaintance with)
the divine precepts, is by them forthwith instructed that "that from
which God bids us abstain is to be accounted sin:" inasmuch as, since
it is generally agreed that God is some great essence of good, of
course nothing but evil would be displeasing to good; in that, between
things mutually contrary, friendship there is none. Still it will not
be irksome briefly to touch upon the fact[9] that, of sins, some are
carnal, that is, corporeal; some spiritual. For since man is composed
of this combination of a two-fold substance, the sources of his sins
are no other than the sources of his composition. But it is not the
fact that body and spirit are two things that constitute the sins
mutually different—otherwise they are on this account rather equal,
because the two make up one—lest any make the distinction between
their sins proportionate to the difference between their substances, so
as to esteem the one lighter, or else heavier, than the other: if it be
true,(as it is,) that both flesh and spirit are creatures of God; one
wrought by His hand, one consummated by His afflatus. Since, then, they
equally pertain to the Lord, whichever of them sins equally offends the
Lord. Is it for you to distinguish the acts of the flesh and the
spirit, whose communion and conjunction in life, in death, and in
resurrection, are so intimate, that "at that time"[1] they are equally
raised up either for life or else for judgment; because, to wit, they
have equally either sinned or lived innocently? This we would (once for
all) premise, in order that we may understand that no less necessity
for repentance is incumbent on either part of man, if in anything it
have sinned, than on both. The guilt of both is common; common, too, is
the Judge—God to wit; common, therefore, is withal the healing
medicine of repentance. The source whence sins are named "spiritual"
and "corporeal" is the fact that every sin is matter either of act or
else of thought: so that what is in deed is "corporeal," because a
deed, like a body, is capable of being seen and touched; what is in the
mind is "spiritual," because spirit is neither seen nor handled:: by
which consideration is shown that sins not of deed only, but of will
too, are to be shunned, and by repentance purged. For if human
finitude[2] judges only sins of deed, because it is not equal to
(piercing) the lurking-places of the will, let us not on that account
make light of crimes of the will in God's sight. God is all-sufficient.
Nothing from whence any sin whatsoever proceeds is remote from His
sight; because He is neither ignorant, nor does He omit to decree it to
judgment. He is no dissembler of, nor double-dealer with,[3] His own
clear-sightedness. What (shall we say of the fact) that will is the
origin of deed? For if any sins are imputed to chance, or to necessity,
or to ignorance, let them see to themselves: if these be excepted,
there is no sinning save by will. Since, then, will is the origin of
deed, is it not so much the rather amenable to penalty as it is first
in guilt? Nor, if some difficulty interferes with its full
accomplishment, is it even in that ease exonerated; for it is itself
imputed to itself: nor; having done the work which lay in its own
power, will it be excusable by reason of that miscarriage of its
accomplishment. In fact, how does the Lord demonstrate Himself as
adding a superstructure to the Law, except by interdicting sins of the
will as well (as other sins); while He defines not only the man who had
actually invaded another's wedlock to be an adulterer, but likewise him
who had contaminated (a woman) by the concupiscence of his gaze?[4]
Accordingly it is dangerous enough for the mind to set before itself
what it is forbidden to perform, and rashly through the will to perfect
its execution. And since the power of this will is such that, even
without fully sating its self-gratification, it stands for a deed; as a
deed, therefore, it shall be punished. It is utterly vain to say, "I
willed, but yet I did not." Rather you ought to carry the thing
through, because you will; or else not to will, because you do not
carry it through. But, by the confession of your consciousness, you
pronounce your own condemnation. For if you eagerly desired a good
thing, you would have been anxious to carry it through; in like manner,
as you do not carry an evil thing through, you ought not to have
eagerly desired it. Wherever you take your stand, you are fast bound by
guilt; because you have either willed evil, or else have not fulfilled
good.
To all sins, then, committed whether by flesh or spirit, whether
by deed or will, the same God who has destined penalty by means of
judgment, has withal engaged to grant pardon by means of repentance,
saying to the people, "Repent thee, and I will save thee;"[5] and
again, "I live, saith the Lord, and I will (have) repentance rather
than death."[6] Repentance, then, is "life," since it is preferred to
"death." That repentance, O sinner, like myself (nay, rather, less than
myself, for pre-eminence in sins I acknowledge to be mine[7]), do you
so hasten to, so embrace, as a shipwrecked man the protection[8] of
some plank. This will draw you forth when sunk in the waves of sins,
and will bear you forward into the port of the divine clemency. Seize
the opportunity of unexpected felicity: that you, who sometime were in
God's sight nothing but "a drop of a bucket,"[9] and "dust of the
threshing-floor,"[10] and "a potter's vessel,"[11] may thenceforward
become that "tree which is sown beside[12] the waters, is perennial in
leaves, bears fruit at its own time,"[13] and shall not see fire,"[14]
nor "axe."[15] Having found "the truth,"[16] repent of errors; repent
of having loved what God loves not: even we ourselves do not permit our
slave-lads not to hate the things which are offensive to us; for the
principle of voluntary obedience[1] consists in similarity of minds.
To reckon up the good, of repentance, the subject-matter is
copious, and therefore should be committed to great eloquence. Let us,
however, in proportion to our narrow abilities, inculcate one
point,—that what God enjoins is good and best. I hold it audacity to
dispute about the "good" of a divine precept; for, indeed, it is not
the fact that it is good which binds us to obey, but the fact that God
has enjoined it. To exact the rendering of obedience the majesty of
divine power has the prior[2] right; the authority of Him who commands
is prior to the utility of him who serves. "Is it good to repent, or
no?" Why do you ponder? God enjoins; nay, He not merely enjoins, but
likewise exhorts. He invites by (offering) reward—salvation, to wit;
even by an oath, saying "I live,"[3] He desires that credence may be
given Him. Oh blessed we, for whose Sake God swears! Oh most miserable,
if we believe not the Lord even when He swears! What, therefore, God so
highly commends, what He even (after human fashion) attests on oath, we
are bound of course to approach, and to guard with the utmost
seriousness; that, abiding permanently in (the faith of) the solemn
pledge[4] of divine grace, we may be able also to persevere in like
manner in its fruit[5] and its benefit.
For what I say is this, that the repentance which, being shown us
and commanded us through God's grace, recalls us to grace[7] with the
Lord, when once learned and undertaken by us ought never afterward to
be cancelled by repetition of sin. No pretext of ignorance now remains
to plead on your behalf; in that, after acknowledging the Lord, and
accepting His precepts[8]—in short, after engaging in repentance of
(past) sins—you again betake you self to sins. Thus, in as far as you
are removed from ignorance, in so far are you cemented[9] to contumacy.
For if the ground on which you had repented of having sinned was that
you had begun to fear the Lord, why have you preferred to rescind what
you did for fear's sake, except because you have ceased to fear? For
there is no other thing but contumacy which subverts fear. Since there
is no exception which defends from liability to penalty even such as
are ignorant of the Lord—because ignorance of God, openly as He is set
before men, and comprehensible as He is even on the score of His
heavenly benefits, is not possible[10]—how perilous is it for Him to
be despised when known? Now, that man does despise Him, who, after
attaining by His help to an understanding of things good and evil,
often an affront to his own understanding—that is, to God's gift—by
resuming what he understands ought to be shunned, and what he has
already shunned: he rejects the Giver in abandoning the gift; he denies
the Benefactor in not honouring the benefit. How can he be pleasing to
Him, whose gift is displeasing to himself? Thus he is shown to be not
only contumacious toward the Lord, but likewise ungrateful. Besides,
that man commits no light sin against the Lord, who, after he had by
repentance renounced His rival the devil, and had under this
appellation subjected him to the Lord, again upraises him by his own
return (to the enemy), and makes himself a ground of exultation to him;
so that the Evil One, with his prey recovered, rejoices anew against
the Lord. Does he not—what is perilous even to say, but must be put
forward with a view to edification—place the devil before the Lord?
For he seems to have made the comparison who has known each; and to
have judicially pronounced him to be the better whose (servant) he has
preferred again to be. Thus he who, through repentance for sins, had
begun to make satisfaction to the Lord, will, through another
repentance of his repentance, make satisfaction to the devil, and will
be the more hateful to God in proportion as he will be the more
acceptable to His rival. But some say that "God is satisfied if He be
looked up to with the heart and the mind, even if this be not done in
outward act, and that thus they sin without damage to their fear and
their faith:" that is, that they violate wedlock without damage to
their chastity; they mingle poison for their parent without damage to
their filial duty! Thus, then, they will themselves withal be thrust
down into hell without damage to their pardon, while they sin without
damage to their fear! Here is a primary example of perversity: they
sin, because they fear![11] I suppose, if they feared not, they would
not sin! Let him, therefore, who would not have God offended not revere
Him at all, if fear[1] is the plea for offending But these dispositions
have been wont to sprout from the seed of hypocrites, whose friendship
with the devil is indivisible, whose repentance never faithful.
Whatever, then, our poor ability has attempted to suggest with
reference to laying hold of repentance once for all, and perpetually
retaining it, does indeed bear upon all who are given up to the Lord,
as being all competitors for salvation in earning the favour of God;
but is chiefly urgent in the case of those young novices who are only
just beginning to bedew[2] their ears with divine discourses, and who,
as whelps in yet early infancy, and with eyes not yet perfect, creep
about uncertainly, and say indeed that they renounce their former deed,
and assume (the profession of) repentance, but neglect to complete
it.[3] For the very end of desiring importunes them to desire somewhat
of their former deeds; just as fruits, when they are already beginning
to turn into the sourness or bitterness of age, do yet still in some
part flatter[4] their own loveliness. Moreover, a presumptuous
confidence in baptism introduces all kind of vicious delay and
tergiversation with regard to repentance; for, feeling sure of
undoubted pardon of their sins, men meanwhile steal the intervening
time, and make it for themselves into a holiday-time[5] for sinning,
rather than a time for learning not to sin. Further, how inconsistent
is it to expect pardon of sins (to be granted) to a repentance which
they have not fulfilled! This is to hold out your hand for merchandise,
but not produce the price. For repentance is the price at which the
Lord has determined to award pardon: He proposes the redemption[6] of
release from penalty at this compensating exchange of repentance. If,
then, sellers first examine the coin with which they make their
bargains, to see whether it be cut, or scraped, or adulterated,[7] we
believe likewise that the Lord, when about to make us the grant of so
costly merchandise, even of eternal life, first institutes a probation
of our repentance. "But meanwhile let us defer the reality of our
repentance: it will then, I suppose, be clear that we are amended when
we are absolved."[8] By no means; (but our amendment should be
manifested) while, pardon being in abeyance, there is still a prospect
of penalty; while the penitent does not yet merit—so far as merit we
can—his liberation; while God is threatening, not while He is
forgiving. For what slave, after his position has been changed by
reception of freedom, charges himself with his (past) thefts and
desertions? What soldier, after his discharge, makes satisfaction for
his (former) brands? A sinner is bound to bemoan himself before
receiving pardon, because the time of repentance is coincident with
that of peril and of fear. Not that I deny that the divine benefit—the
putting away of sins, I mean—is in every way sure to such as are on
the point of entering the (baptismal) water; but what we have to labour
for is, that it may be granted us to attain that blessing. For who will
grant to you, a man of so faithless repentance, one single sprinkling
of any water whatever? To approach it by stealth, indeed, and to get
the minister appointed over this business misled by your asseverations,
is easy; but God takes foresight for His own treasure, and suffers not
the unworthy to steal a march upon it. What, in fact, does He say?
"Nothing hid which shall not be revealed."[9] Draw whatever (veil of)
darkness you please over your deeds, "God is light."[10] But some think
as if God were under a necessity of bestowing even on the unworthy,
what He has engaged (to give); and they turn His liberality into
slavery. But if it is of necessity that God grants us the symbol of
death,[11] then He does so unwilling. But who permits a gift to be
permanently retained which he has granted unwillingly? For do not many
afterward fall out of (grace)? is not this gift taken away from many?
These, no doubt, are they who do steal a march upon (the treasure),
who, after approaching to the faith of repentance, set up on the sands
a house doomed to ruin. Let no one, then, flatter himself on the ground
of being assigned to the "recruit-classes" of learners, as if on that
account he have a licence even now to sin. As soon as you "know the
Lord,[12] you should fear Him; as soon as you have gazed on Him, you
should reverence Him. But what difference does your "knowing" Him make,
while you rest in the same practises as in days bygone, when you knew
Him not? What, moreover, is it which distinguishes you from a
perfected[1] servant of God? Is there one Christ for the baptized,
another for the learners? Have they some different hope or reward? some
different dread of judgment? some different necessity for repentance?
That baptismal washing is a sealing of faith, which faith is begun and
is commended by the faith of repentance. We are not washed in order
that we may cease sinning, but because we have ceased, since in heart
we have been bathed[2] already. For the first baptism of a learner is
this, a perfect fear;[3] thenceforward, in so far as you have
understanding of the Lord faith is sound, the conscience having once
for all embraced repentance. Otherwise, if it is (only) after the
baptismal waters that we cease sinning, it is of necessity, not of
free-will, that we put on innocence. Who, then, is pro-eminent in
goodness? he who is not allowed, or he whom it displeases, to be evil?
he who is bidden, or he whose pleasure it is, to be free from crime?
Let us, then, neither keep our hands from theft unless the hardness of
bars withstand us, nor refrain our eyes from the concupiscence of
fornication unless we be withdrawn by guardians of our persons, if no
one who has surrendered himself to the Lord is to cease sinning unless
he be bound thereto by baptism. But if any entertain this sentiment, I
know not whether he, after baptism, do not feel more sadness to think
that he has teased from sinning, than gladness that he hath escaped
from it. And so it is becoming that learners desire baptism, but do not
hastily receive it: for he who desires it, honours it; he who hastily
receives it, disdains it: in the one appears modesty, in the other
arrogance; the former satisfies, the latter neglects it; the former
covets to merit it, but the latter promises it to himself as a due
return; the former takes, the latter usurps it. Whom would you judge
worthier, except one who is more amended? whom more amended, except one
who is more timid, and on that account has fulfilled the duty of true
repentance? for he has feared to continue still in sin, lest he should
not merit the reception of baptism. But the hasty receiver, inasmuch as
he promised it himself (as his due), being forsooth secure (of
obtaining it), could not fear: thus he fulfilled not repentance either,
because he lacked the instrumental agent of repentance, that is,
fear.[4] Hasty reception is the portion of irreverence; it inflates the
seeker, it despises the Giver. And thus it sometimes deceives,[5] for
it promises to itself the gift before it be due; whereby He who is to
furnish the gift is ever offended.
So long, Lord Christ, may the blessing of learning or hearing
concerning the discipline of repentance be granted to Thy servants, as
is likewise behoves them, while learners,[6] not to sin; in other
words, may they thereafter know nothing of repentance, and require
nothing of it. It is irksome to append mention of a second—nay, in
that case, the last—hope;[7] lest, by treating of a remedial repenting
yet in reserve, we seem to be pointing to a yet further space for
sinning. Far be it that any one so interpret our meaning, as if,
because there is an opening for repenting, there were even now, on that
account, an opening for sinning; and as if the redundance of celestial
clemency constituted a licence for human temerity. Let no one be less
good because God is more so, by repeating his sin as often as he is
forgiven. Otherwise be sure he will find an end of escaping, when he
shall not find one of sinning. We have escaped once: thus far and no
farther let us commit ourselves to perils, even if we seem likely to
escape a second time.[8] Men in general, after escaping shipwreck,
thenceforward declare divorce with ship and sea; and by cherishing the
memory of the danger, honour the benefit conferred by God,—their
deliverance, namely. I praise their fear, I love their reverence; they
are unwilling a second time to be a burden to the divine mercy; they
fear to seem to trample on the benefit which they have attained; they
shun, with a solicitude which at all events is good, to make trial a
second time of that which they have once learned to fear. Thus the
limit of their temerity is the evidence of their fear. Moreover, man's
fear[9] is an honour to God. But however, that most stubborn foe (of
ours) never gives his malice leisure; indeed, he is then most savage
when he fully feels that a man is freed from his clutches; he then
flames fiercest while he is fast becoming extinguished. Grieve and
groan he must of necessity over the fact that, by the grant of pardon,
so many works of death[10] in man have been overthrown, so many marks
of the condemnation which for- merly was his own erased. He grieves
that that sinner, (now) Christ's servant, is destined to judge him and
his angels.[1] And so he observes, assaults, besieges him, in the hope
that he may be able in some way either to strike his eyes with carnal
concupiscence, or else to entangle his mind with worldly enticements,
or else to subvert his faith by fear of earthly power, or else to wrest
him from the sure way by perverse traditions: he is never deficient in
stumbling-blocks nor in temptations. These poisons of his, therefore,
God foreseeing, although the gate of forgiveness has been shut and
fastened up with the bar of baptism, has permitted it still to stand
somewhat open.[2] In the vestibule He has stationed the second
repentance for opening to such as knock: but now once far all, because
now for the second time;[3] but never more because the last time it had
been in vain. For is not even this once enough? You have what you now
deserved not, for you had lost what you had received. If the Lord's
indulgence grants you the means of restoring what you had lost, be
thankful for the benefit renewed, not to say amplified; for restoring
is a greater thing than giving, inasmuch as having lost is more
miserable than never having received at all. However, if any do incur
the debt of a second repentance, his spirit is not to be forthwith cut
down and undermined by despair. Let it by all means be irksome to sin
again, but let not to repent again be irksome: irksome to imperil one's
self again, but not to be again set free. Let none be ashamed. Repeated
sickness must have repeated medicine. You will show your gratitude to
the Lord by not refusing what the Lord offers you. You have offended,
but can still be reconciled. You have One whom you may satisfy, and Him
willing.[4]
This if you doubt, unravels the meaning of "what the Spirit saith
to the churches."[6] He imputes to the Ephesians "forsaken love;"[7]
reproaches the Thyatirenes with "fornication," and "eating of things
sacrificed to idols;"[8] accuses the Sardians of "works not full; "[9]
censures the Pergamenes for teaching perverse things;[10] upbraids the
Laodiceans for trusting to their riches;[11] and yet gives them all
general monitions to repentance—under comminations, it is true; but He
would not utter comminations to one un-repentant if He did not forgive
the repentant. The matter were doubtful if He had not withal elsewhere
demonstrated this profusion of His clemency. Saith He not,[12] "He who
hath fallen shall rise again, and he who hath been averted shall be
converted?" He it is, indeed, who "would have mercy rather than
sacrifices."[13] The heavens, and the angels who are there, are glad at
a man's repentance.[14] Ho! you sinner, be of good cheer! you see where
it is that there is joy at your return. What meaning for us have those
themes of the Lord's parables? Is not the fact that a woman has lost a
drachma, and seeks it and finds it, and invites her female friends to
share her joy, an example of a restored sinner?[15] There strays,
withal, one little ewe of the shepherd's; but the flock was not more
dear than the one: that one is earnestly sought; the one is longed for
instead of all; and at length she is found, and is borne back on the
shoulders of the shepherd himself; for much had she toiled[16] in
straying.[17] That most gentle father, likewise, I will not pass over
in silence, who calls his prodigal son home, and willingly receives him
repentant after his indigence, slays his best fatted calf, and graces
his joy with a banquet.[18] Why not? He had found the son whom he had
lost; he had felt him to be all the dearer of whom he had made a gain.
Who is that father to be understood by us to be? God, surely: no one is
so truly a Father;[19] no one so rich in paternal love. He, then, will
receive you, His own son,[20] back, even if you have squandered what
you had received from Him, even if you return naked—just because you
have returned; and will joy more over your return than over the
sobriety of the other;[21] but only if you heartily repent—if you
compare your own hunger with the plenty of your Father's "hired
servants"—if you leave behind you the swine, that unclean herd—if you
again seek your Father, offended though He be, saying, "I have sinned,
nor am worthy any longer to be called Thine." Confession of sins
lightens, as much as dissimulation aggravates them; for confession is
counselled by (a desire to make) satisfaction, dissimulation by
contumacy.
The narrower, then, the sphere of action of this second and only
(remaining) repentance, the more laborious is its probation; in order
that it may not be exhibited in the conscience alone, but may likewise
be carried out in some (external) act. This act, which is more usually
expressed and commonly spoken of under a Greek name, is exomologhsis
,[1] whereby we confess our sins to the Lord, not indeed as if He were
ignorant of them, but inasmuch as by confession satisfaction is
settled,[2] of confession repentance is born; by repentance God is
appeased. And thus exomologesis is a discipline for man's prostration
and humiliation, enjoining a demeanor calculated to move mercy. With
regard also to the very dress and food, it commands (the penitent) to
lie in sackcloth and ashes, to cover his body in mourning,[3] to lay
his spirit low in sorrows, to exchange for severe treatment the sins
which he has committed; moreover, to know no food and drink but such as
is plain,—not for the stomach's sake, to wit, but the soul's; for the
most part, however, to feed prayers on fastings, to groan, to weep and
make outcries[4] unto the Lord your[5] God; to bow before the feet of
the presbyters, and kneel to God's dear ones; to enjoin on all the
brethren to be ambassadors to bear his[6] deprecatory supplication
(before God). All this exomologesis (does), that it may enhance
repentance; may honour God by its fear of the (incurred) danger; may,
by itself pronouncing against the sinner, stand in the stead of God's
indignation, and by temporal mortification (I will not say frustrate,
but) expunge eternal punishments. Therefore, while it abases the man,
it raises him; while it covers him with squalor, it renders him more
clean; while it accuses, it excuses; while it condemns, it absolves.
The less quarter you give yourself, the more (believe me) will God give
you.
Yet most men either shun this work, as being a public exposure[7]
of themselves, or else defer it from day to day. I presume (as being)
more mindful of modesty than of salvation; just like men who, having
contracted some malady in the more private parts of the body, avoid the
privity of physicians, and so perish with their own bashfulness. It is
intolerable, forsooth, to modesty to make satisfaction to the offended
Lord! to be restored to its forfeited[8] salvation! Truly you are
honourable in your modesty; bearing an open forehead for sinning, but
an abashed one for deprecating! I give no place to bashfulness when I
am a gainer by its loss; when itself in some son exhorts the man,
saying, "Respect not me; it is better that I perish through[9] you,
i.e. than you through me." At all events, the time when (if ever) its
danger is serious, is when it is a butt for jeering speech in the
presence of insulters, where one man raises himself on his neighbour's
ruin, where there is upward clambering over the prostrate. But among.
brethren and fellow-servants, where there is common hope, fear,[10]
joy, grief, suffering, because there is a common Spirit from a common
Lord and Father, why do you think these brothers to be anything other
than yourself? Why flee from the partners of your own mischances, as
from such as will derisively cheer them? The body cannot feel gladness
at the trouble of any one member,[11] it must necessarily join with one
consent in the grief, and in labouring for the remedy. In a company of
two[12] is the church;[13] but the church is Christ.[14] When, then,
you cast yourself at the brethren's knees, you are handling Christ, you
are entreating Christ. In like manner, when they shed tears over you,
it is Christ who suffers, Christ who prays the Father for mercy. What a
son[15] asks is ever easily obtained. Grand indeed is the reward of
modesty, which the concealment of our fault promises us! to wit, if we
do hide somewhat from the knowledge of man, shall we equally conceal it
from God? Are the judgment of men and the knowledge of God so put upon
a par? Is it better to be damned in secret than absolved in public? But
you say, "It is a miserable thing thus to come to exomologesis:" yes,
for evil does bring to misery; but where repentance is to be made, the
misery ceases, because it is turned into something
salutary. Miserable it is to be cut, and cauterized, and racked
with the pungency of some (medicinal) powder: still, the things which
heal by unpleasant means do, by the benefit of the cure, excuse their
own offensiveness, and make present injury bearable for the sake[1] of
the advantage to supervene.
What if, besides the shame which they make the most account of,
men dread likewise the bodily inconveniences; in that, unwashen,
sordidly attired, estranged from gladness, they must spend their time
in the roughness of sackcloth, and the horridness of ashes, and the
sunkenness of face caused by fasting? Is it then becoming for us to
supplicate for our sins in scarlet and purple? Hasten hither with the
pin for panning the hair, and the powder for polishing the teeth, and
some forked implement of steel or brass for cleaning the nails.
Whatever of false brilliance, whatever of feigned redness, is to be
had, let him diligently apply it to his lips or cheeks. Let him
furthermore seek out baths of more genial temperature in some gardened
or seaside retreat; let him enlarge his expenses; let him carefully
seek the rarest delicacy of fatted fowls; let him refine his old wine:
and when any shall ask him, "On whom are you lavishing all this?" let
him say, "I have sinned against God, and am in peril of eternally
perishing: and so now I am drooping, and wasting and torturing myself,
that I may reconcile God to myself, whom by sinning I have offended."
Why, they who go about canvassing for the obtaining of civil office,
feel it neither degrading nor irksome to struggle, in behalf of such
their desires, with annoyances to soul and body; and not annoyances
merely, but likewise contumelies of all kinds. What meannesses of dress
do they not affect ? what houses do they not beset with early and late
visits?—bowing whenever they meet any high personage, frequenting no
banquets, associating in no entertainments, but voluntarily exiled from
the felicity of freedom and festivity: and all that for the sake of the
fleeting joy of a single year ! Do we hesitate, when eternity is at
stake, to endure what the competitor for consulship or praetorship puts
up with ?[2] and shall we be tardy in offering to the offended Lord a
self-chastisement in food and raiment, which[3] Gentiles lay upon
themselves when they have offended no one at all ? Such are they of
whom Scripture makes mention: "Woe to them who bind their own sins as
it were with a long rope."[4]
If you shrink back from exomologesis, consider in your heart the
hell, [5] which exomologesis will extinguish for you; and imagine first
the magnitude of the penalty, that you may not hesitate about the
adoption of the remedy. What do we esteem that treasure-house of
eternal fire to be, when small vent-holes[6] of it rouse such blasts of
flames that neighbouring cities either are already no more, or are in
daily expectation of the same fate ? The haughtiest[7] mountains start
asunder in the birth-throes of their inly-gendered fire; and—which
proves to us the perpetuity of the judgment—though they start asunder,
though they be devoured, yet come they never to an end. Who will not
account these occasional punishments inflicted on the mountains as
examples of the judgment which menaces the impenitent? Who will not
agree that such sparks are but some few missiles and sportive darts of
some inestimably vast centre of fire? Therefore, since you know that
after the first bulwarks of the Lord's baptism[8] there still remains
for you, in exomologesis a second reserve of aid against hell, why do
you desert your own salvation ? Why are you tardy to approach what you
know heals you ? Even dumb irrational animals recognise in their time
of need the medicines which have been divinely assigned them. The stag,
transfixed by the arrow, knows that, to force out the steel, and its
inextricable lingerings, he must heal himself with dittany. The
swallow, if she blinds her young, knows how to give them eyes again by
means of her own swallow-wort.[9] Shall the sinner, knowing that
exomologesis has been instituted by the Lord for his restoration, pass
that by which restored the Babylonian king[10] to his realms ? Long
time had he offered to the Lord his repentance, working out his
exomologesis by a seven years' squalor, with his nails wildly growing
after the eagle's fashion, and his unkempt hair wearing the shagginess
of a lion. Hard handling! Him whom men were shuddering at, God was
receiving back. But, on the other hand, the Egyptian emperor—who,
after pur- suing the once afflicted people of God, long denied to their
Lord, rushed into the battle[1]—did, after so many warning plagues,
perish in the parted sea, (which was permitted to be passable to "the
People" alone,) by the backward roll of the waves:[2] for repentance
and her handmaid[3] exomologesis he had cast away.
Why should I add more touching these two planks[4] (as it were) of human salvation, caring more for the business of the pen[5] than the duty of my conscience? For, sinner as I am of every dye,[6] and born for nothing save repentance, I cannot easily be silent about that concerning which also the very head and fount of the human race, and of human offence, Adam, restored by exomologesis to his own paradise,[7] is not silent.
I.
(Such as have lapsed, cap. vii., p. 66o.)
The pentitential system of the Primitive days, referred to in our
author, began to be changed when less public confessions were
authorized, on account of the scandals which publicity generated.
Changes were as follows:
I. A grave presbyter was appointed to receive and examine
voluntary penitents as the Penitentiary of a diocese, and to suspend or
reconcile them with due solemnities—-circa A.D. 250.
2. This plan also became encumbered with difficulties and was
abolished in the East, circa A. D. 400.
3. A discipline similar to that of the Anglican Church (which is
but loosely maintained therein) succeeded, under St. Chrysostom; who
frequently maintains the sufficiency of confession according to St.
Matt. vi. 6. A Gallican author[1] says—" this is the period regarded
by historians as the most brilliant in Church history. At the close of
the fourth century, in the great churches of the Orient, sixty thousand
Christians received the Eucharistic communion, in one day, in both
kinds, with no other than their private confessions to Almighty God.
The scandalous evil-liver alone was repelled from the Eucharistic
Table." This continued till circa A.D. 700.
4. Particular, but voluntary confessions were now made in the
East and West, but with widely various acceptance under local systems
of discipline. The absolutions were precatory: "may God absolve Thee."
This lasted, even in the West, till the compulsory system of the
Lateran Council, A.D. 1215.
5. Since this date, so far as the West is concerned, the whole
system of corrupt casuistry and enforced confession adopted in the West
has utterly destroyed the Primitive doctrine and discipline as to sin
and its remedy wherever it prevails. In the East, private confession
exists in a system wholly different and one which maintains the
Primitive Theology and the Scriptural principle. (I) It is voluntary;
(2) it is free from the corrupt system of the casuists; (3) it
distinguishes between Ecclesiastical Absolution and that of Him who
alone "seeth in secret;" (4) it admits no compromise with attrition,
but exacts the contrite heart 667
and the firm resolve to go and sin no more, and (5) finally, it employs a most guarded and Evangelical formula of remission, of which see Elucidation IV.
II.
(The last hope, cap. vii. p. 662.)
How absolutely the Lateran Council has overthrown the Primitive
discipline is here made manifest. The spirit of the latter is expressed
by our author in language which almost prompts to despair. It makes sin
"exceeding sinful" and even Ecclesiastical forgiveness the reverse of
easy. The Lateran System of enforced Confession makes sin easy and
restoration to a sinless state equally so: a perpetual resort to the
confessor being the only condition for evil living, and a chronic state
of pardon and peace. But, let the Greek Church be heard in this matter,
rather than an Anglican Catholic. I refer to Macarius, Bishop of
Vinnitza and Rector of the Theological Academy of St. Petersburg, as
follows:[1] "It is requisite (for the effective reception of
Absolution) at least according to the teaching of the Orthodox Church
of the Orient, that the following conditions be observed: (I)
Contrition for sins, is in the very nature of Penitence, indispensable;
(2), consequently, there must be a firm resolution to reform the life;
(3) also, faith in Christ and hope in his mercy, with (4) auricular
confession before the priest." He allows that this latter condition was
not primitive, but was a maternal concession to penitents of later
date: this, however, is voluntary, and of a widely different form from
that of the Latin, as will appear below in Elucidation IV.
Now, he contrasts with this the system of Rome, and condemns it,
on overwhelming considerations. I. It makes penances compensations[2]
or "satisfaction," offered for sins to divine Justice, this (he says)
"is in contradiction with the Christian doctrine of justification, the
Scripture teaching one full and entire satisfaction for the sins of the
whole human race, once for all presented by our Lord Jesus Christ. This
doctrine is equally in conflict with the entire teaching of the
Primitive Church." 2. It introduces a false system of indulgences, as
the consequence of its false premisses.
3. He demonstrates the insufficiency of attrition, which
respects the fear of punishment, and not sin itself. But the Council of
Trent affirms the sufficiency of attrition, and permits the confessor
to absolve the attrite. Needless to say, the masses accept this wide
gate and broad way to salvation rather than the strait gate and narrow
way of hating sin and reforming the life, in obedience to the Gospel.
III.
(Among brethren, cap. x., p. 662.)
A controversial writer has lately complained that Bp. Kaye speaks
of the public confession treated of by our author in this work, and
adds—" Tertullian nowhere used the word public." The answer is that he
speaks of the discipline of Exomologesis, which was, in its own nature,
as public as preaching. A Gallican writer, less inclined to Jesuitism
in the use of words, says frankly: "When one studies this question,
with the documents before his eyes, it is impossible not to confess
that the Primitive discipline of the Church exhibits not a vestige of
the auricular confession afterwards introduced." See Irenaeus, Adv.
Hares. Vol. I. p. 335, this Series. The Lii. of the canons called
Apostolical, reflects a very simple view of the matter, in these words:
"If any Bishop or Presbyter will not receive one who turns from his
sins, but casts him out, let him be deposed: for he grieves Christ, who
said, There shall be joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." The
ascetic spirit of our author seems at war with that of this Canon. IV.
(Exomologesis, cap. xii., p. 663.)
To this day, in the Oriental Churches, the examination of the
presbyter who hears the voluntary confession of penitents, is often
very primitive in its forms and confined to general inquiries under the
Decalogue. The Casuistry of (Dens and Liguori) the Western Schemata
Practica has not defiled our Eastern brethren to any great extent.
In the office[1] (A kolouqia twn exomolougoumenwn ) we have a
simple and beautiful form of prayer and supplication in which the
following is the formula of Absolution: "My Spiritual child, who hast
confessed to my humility, I, unworthy and a sinner, have not the power
to forgive sins on Earth; God only can: and through that Divine voice
which came to the Apostles, after the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus
Christ, saying—' Whosesoever sins, etc.,' we, therein confiding,
say—Whatsoever thou hast confessed to my extreme humility, and
whatsoever thou hast ommitted to say, either through ignorance or
forgetfulness, God forgive thee in this present world and in that which
is to come."
The plural (We therein confiding) is significant and a token of
Primitive doctrine: i.e. of confession before the whole Church, (II.
Cor. ii. 10.): and note the precatory form—"God forgive thee." The
perilous form Ego te absolvo is not Catholic: it dates from the
thirteenth century and is used in the West only. It is not wholly
dropped from the Anglican Office, but has been omitted from the
American Prayer-Book.