Gregory of Nazianzus

Some readily complied with the call, others deprecated the gift... Isaiah readily submitted (Is 6:8), but Jeremiah was afraid of his youth.

Ah, ah, ah, Lord God: What is it that has induced this fear in me, that, instead of supposing me to be needlessly afraid, you may highly commend my foresight? I hear from Moses himself, when God spoke to him, that, although many were bidden to come to the mount, and Moses alone to draw near, and the people were not to go up with him. Exodus 24:1-2 For it is not everyone who may draw near to God, but only one who, like Moses, can bear the glory of God. Moreover, before this, when the law was first given, the trumpet-blasts, and lightnings, and thunders, and darkness, and the smoke of the whole mountain, and the terrible threats that if even a beast touched the mountain it should be stoned, Hebrews 12:18 and other like alarms, kept back the rest of the people, for whom it was a great privilege, after careful purification, merely to hear the voice of God. But Moses actually went up and entered into the cloud, and was charged with the law, and received the tables, which belong, for the multitude, to the letter, but, for those who are above the multitude, to the spirit.

Such is our life, we whose existence is so transitory. Such is the game we play on earth. We do not exist, and we are born, and being born, we disintegrate and disappear. We are a fleeting dream, an apparition without substance, the flight of a bird that passes, a ship that leaves no trace on the sea. We are dust, a vapor, the morning dew, a flower growing but a moment and withering in a moment. “A person’s days are as grass. As the flower of the field, so shall he flourish,” beautifully, as described by holy David in meditating on our weakness. And again in these words: “Declare to me the fewness of my days.” And he defines the days of people as the measure of a span. What would you say to Jeremiah, who, complaining about his birth, even blames his mother, and that, too, for the failings of others. I have seen all things, says the Preacher, I have reviewed in thought all human things, wealth, pleasure, power, unstable glory, wisdom that evades us rather than is won; then pleasure again, wisdom again, often revolving the same objects, the pleasures of appetite, orchards, numbers of slaves, store of wealth, serving men and serving maids, singing men and singing women, arms, spearmen, subject nations, collected tributes, the pride of kings, all the necessaries and superfluities of life, in which I surpassed all the kings that were before me. And what does he say after all these things? Vanity of vanities. ON HIS BROTHER ST.

This is all common sense, surely, but now that we have proved deity incorporeal, we shall take the examination a stage further. The problem is this: is deity located in space or not? If it is not, then your shrewd critic might ask how it can even exist at all. Granted that what does not exist has no spatial location, it may well be the case that what has no spatial location does not exist. But if deity is spatially located there are two possible consequences: either the universe contains it, or it is located above the universe. Taking the first alternative, then, it is either contained in a part of the universe or the whole of it. Supposing deity is contained in a part of the universe, it will be delimited by something smaller; if in the whole, by something larger, quite different in relative scale, I mean, as between deity inside and the surrounding universe, granted the universe is going to be contained by the universe and all spatial location to have its bounding line. These consequences follow the hypotheses that the universe contains God. Again, where was it before the universe was created? This produces a considerable problem, you see. If, on the other hand, deity is located above the universe, what is the dividing line between it and the universe? Where is this higher place? How are higher and lower levels to be recognized; where there is no dividing line between to separate them? There will have, surely, to be something in between, something to bound the universe off from what lies above it. In that case this something in between must have the very spatial location we rejected. I do not now insist on the fact that deity must be delimited if it be mentally comprehended, for comprehension is one form of delimitation.Why have I made this digression, too labored, I dare say, for the general ear but in tune with the prevalent fashion in discussions, a fashion that despises noble simplicity and substitutes tortuous conundrums? I did it to make the tree known by its fruits, to make the darkness that activates dogmas like these, I mean, known by the obscurity of their expression. I did not do it to gain a reputation for startling oratory or extraordinary wisdom as a marvelous Daniel for “showing hard sentences and dissolving doubts.” No, I wanted to make plain the point my sermon began with, which was this: the incomprehensibility of deity to the human mind and its totally unimaginable grandeur. Not that deity resents our knowledge: resentment is a far cry from the divine nature, serene as it is, uniquely and properly “good,” especially resentment of its most prized creation. What can mean more to the Word than thinking beings, since their very existence is an act of supreme goodness? It is not that he treasures his own fullness of glory, keeping his majesty costly by inaccessibility. It would be utterly dishonest, utterly out of character not merely for God but also for an ordinary good person with anything of a proper conscience about him to get himself the senior place by keeping others out.

How, again, can justice be done to the scriptural fact that God pervades and fills the universe (“Do not I fill heaven and earth?’ says the Lord,” and, “The spirit of the Lord fills the world”) if part of it limits him and part of it is limited by him? It cannot, for he must either occupy a complete vacuum and our universe vanish—involving the blasphemy that God has been rendered corporeal and does not possess the universe he made; or his body must be contained by bodies, which is impossible; or he must be knit through them as a contrasted strand, like liquids in mixture, parting some, parted by others—which is a more absurd old wives’ tale than even Epicurus’s atoms. It follows, then, that talk of God’s body has no solid body to it and must collapse. What if we call God “immaterial,” the fifth element envisaged by some, borne along the circular drift? Let us assume that he is some immaterial, fifth body, incorporeal, if they wait for it so to suit their free-drifting, self-constructing argument—I will not quarrel over the point. What place will he have in the moving drift of things—leaving out of account the blasphemy of identifying the creatures’ motion with their creator’s, the mover’s (if they will concede the term) with that of the moved? What moves this fifth element? What moves the whole? What moves that which moves the whole? And so on ad infinitum. Must not this moving fifth element be in space? Suppose that they call it something other than the fifth element, an angelic body, say. What grounds have they for asserting that angels are bodies? What are these bodies? How far will God transcend angels who are his ministers? If supra-angelic, a countless swarm of bodies will be fetched in, an abyss of nonsense with no halting place.So we have proved that God is not a body. No divinely inspired teacher has asserted or accepted that idea; the verdict of our fold is against it. He can only be incorporeal. But the term “incorporeal,” though granted, does not give an all-embracing revelation of God’s essential being. The same is true of “ingenerate,” “unoriginate,” “immutable,” and “immortal,” indeed of all attributes applied or referred to God. For what has the fact of owning no beginning, of freedom from change, from limitation, to do with his real, fundamental nature? No, the full reality is left to be grasped, philosophically treated and scrutinized by a more advanced theorist of God. Just as predicating “is body” or “is begotten” of something or other where these predicates are applicable is not enough clearly to set out the things, but you must also, if an object of knowledge is to be displayed with adequate clarity, give the predicates their subject (people, cows and horses, you see, are “corporeal,” “begotten” and “mortal”), so, in the same way, an inquirer into the nature of a real being cannot stop short at saying what it is not but must add to his denials a positive affirmation (and how much easier it is to take in a single thing than to run the full gamut of particular negations!). The point of this is that comprehension of the object of knowledge should be effected by negation of what the thing is not and by positive assertion of what it is. A person who tells you what God is not but fails to tell you what he is is rather like someone who, asked what twice five is, answers “not two, not three, not four, not five, not twenty, not thirty, no number, in short, under ten or over ten.” He does not deny it is ten, but he is also not settling the questioner’s mind with a firm answer. It is much simpler, much briefer, to indicate all that something is not by indicating what it is, than to reveal what it is by denying what it is not.