Passages similar to: Stromata (Miscellanies) — Chapter XII: God Cannot Be Embraced in Words or By the Mind.
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Christian Mysticism
Stromata (Miscellanies)
Chapter XII: God Cannot Be Embraced in Words or By the Mind. (2)
And he adds more clearly: "Him see I not, for round about, a cloud Has settled; for in mortal eyes are small, And mortal pupils - only flesh and bones grow there."
Chapter 11: Of the Seventh Qualifying or Fountain Spirit in the Divine Power. (123)
O no; hear me, thou half-dead angel, I am as thou art, and have no greater light in my outward being than thou hast.
(123) Nor must thou think that I have climbed up aloft into heaven, and beheld it with my carnal or fleshly eyes. O no; hear me, thou half-dead angel, I am as thou art, and have no greater light in my outward being than thou hast.
"God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit, Thy sight is," said I, "so that never will Of his can possibly from thee be hidden; Thy voice, then,...
(4) "God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit, Thy sight is," said I, "so that never will Of his can possibly from thee be hidden; Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens Glad, with the singing of those holy fires Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl, Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings? Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning If I in thee were as thou art in me." "The greatest of the valleys where the water Expands itself," forthwith its words began, "That sea excepted which the earth engarlands, Between discordant shores against the sun Extends so far, that it meridian makes Where it was wont before to make the horizon. I was a dweller on that valley's shore 'Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese. With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly Sit Buggia and the city whence I was, That with its blood once made the harbour hot. Folco that people called me unto whom My name was known; and now with me this heaven Imprints itself, as I did once with it;
I did not ask, 'What ails thee?' as he does Who only looketh with the eyes that see not When of the soul bereft the body lies, But asked it to give...
(7) I did not ask, 'What ails thee?' as he does Who only looketh with the eyes that see not When of the soul bereft the body lies, But asked it to give vigour to thy feet; Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow To use their wakefulness when it returns." We passed along, athwart the twilight peering Forward as far as ever eye could stretch Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent; And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached In our direction, sombre as the night, Nor was there place to hide one's self therefrom. This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us.
But he can no more see in the light of the sun, for he can see in the darkness alone; for he is not become a creature in this light, and therefore it ...
(24) But he can no more see in the light of the sun, for he can see in the darkness alone; for he is not become a creature in this light, and therefore it is not profitable or useful to him.
Chapter 4: Of the shortness of this work, and how it may not be come to by the curiosity of wit, nor by imagination (9)
For such a darkness and such a cloud mayest thou imagine with curiosity of wit, for to bear before thine eyes in the lightest day of summer: and also ...
(9) And ween not, for I call it a darkness or a cloud, that it be any cloud congealed of the humours that flee in the air, nor yet any darkness such as is in thine house on nights when the candle is out. For such a darkness and such a cloud mayest thou imagine with curiosity of wit, for to bear before thine eyes in the lightest day of summer: and also contrariwise in the darkest night of winter, thou mayest imagine a clear shining light. Let be such falsehood. I mean not thus. For when I say darkness, I mean a lacking of knowing: as all that thing that thou knowest not, or else that thou hast forgotten, it is dark to thee; for thou seest it not with thy ghostly eye. And for this reason it is not called a cloud of the air, but a cloud of unknowing, that is betwixt thee and thy God.
In consequence our vision, which perforce Must be some ray of that intelligence With which all things whatever are replete, Cannot in its own nature b...
(3) And hence appears it, that each minor nature Is scant receptacle unto that good Which has no end, and by itself is measured. In consequence our vision, which perforce Must be some ray of that intelligence With which all things whatever are replete, Cannot in its own nature be so potent, That it shall not its origin discern Far beyond that which is apparent to it. Therefore into the justice sempiternal The power of vision that your world receives, As eye into the ocean, penetrates; Which, though it see the bottom near the shore, Upon the deep perceives it not, and yet 'Tis there, but it is hidden by the depth. There is no light but comes from the serene That never is o'ercast, nay, it is darkness Or shadow of the flesh, or else its poison. Amply to thee is opened now the cavern Which has concealed from thee the living justice Of which thou mad'st such frequent questioning. For saidst thou: 'Born a man is on the shore Of Indus, and is none who there can speak Of Christ, nor who can read, nor who can write;
After the truth against the present life Of miserable mortals was unfolded By her who doth imparadise my mind, As in a looking-glass a taper's flame...
(1) After the truth against the present life Of miserable mortals was unfolded By her who doth imparadise my mind, As in a looking-glass a taper's flame He sees who from behind is lighted by it, Before he has it in his sight or thought, And turns him round to see if so the glass Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords Therewith as doth a music with its metre, In similar wise my memory recollecteth That I did, looking into those fair eyes, Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me. And as I turned me round, and mine were touched By that which is apparent in that volume, Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, A point beheld I, that was raying out Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles Must close perforce before such great acuteness. And whatsoever star seems smallest here Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it. As one star with another star is placed. Perhaps at such a distance as appears A halo cincturing the light that paints it, When densest is the vapour that sustains it,
Whence I: "Thou peradventure marvellest, O antique spirit, at the smile I gave; But I will have more wonder seize upon thee. This one, who guides on...
(6) Whence I: "Thou peradventure marvellest, O antique spirit, at the smile I gave; But I will have more wonder seize upon thee. This one, who guides on high these eyes of mine, Is that Virgilius, from whom thou didst learn To sing aloud of men and of the Gods. If other cause thou to my smile imputedst, Abandon it as false, and trust it was Those words which thou hast spoken concerning him." Already he was stooping to embrace My Teacher's feet; but he said to him: "Brother, Do not; for shade thou art, and shade beholdest." And he uprising: "Now canst thou the sum Of love which warms me to thee comprehend, When this our vanity I disremember, Treating a shadow as substantial thing."
Chapter 9: That in the time of this work the remembrance of the holiest creature that ever God made letteth more than it profiteth (2)
But be thou sure that clear sight shall never man have here in this life: but the feeling may men have through grace when God vouchsafeth. And therefo...
(2) And look thou have no wonder of this: for mightest thou once see it as clearly, as thou mayest by grace come to for to grope it and feel it in this life, thou wouldest think as I say. But be thou sure that clear sight shall never man have here in this life: but the feeling may men have through grace when God vouchsafeth. And therefore lift up thy love to that cloud: rather, if I shall say thee sooth, let God draw thy love up to that cloud and strive thou through help of His grace to forget all other thing.
Peace I desired with God at the extreme Of my existence, and as yet would not My debt have been by penitence discharged, Had it not been that in remem...
(6) So that I lifted upward my bold face Crying to God, 'Henceforth I fear thee not,' As did the blackbird at the little sunshine. Peace I desired with God at the extreme Of my existence, and as yet would not My debt have been by penitence discharged, Had it not been that in remembrance held me Pier Pettignano in his holy prayers, Who out of charity was grieved for me. But who art thou, that into our conditions Questioning goest, and hast thine eyes unbound As I believe, and breathing dost discourse?" "Mine eyes," I said, "will yet be here ta'en from me, But for short space; for small is the offence Committed by their being turned with envy. Far greater is the fear, wherein suspended My soul is, of the torment underneath, For even now the load down there weighs on me." And she to me: "Who led thee, then, among us Up here, if to return below thou thinkest?" And I: "He who is with me, and speaks not;
Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps A mist o'ertook thee, through which thou couldst see Not otherwise than through its membrane mole, How, when...
(1) Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps A mist o'ertook thee, through which thou couldst see Not otherwise than through its membrane mole, How, when the vapours humid and condensed Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere Of the sun feebly enters in among them, And thy imagination will be swift In coming to perceive how I re-saw The sun at first, that was already setting. Thus, to the faithful footsteps of my Master Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud To rays already dead on the low shores. O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us So from without sometimes, that man perceives not, Although around may sound a thousand trumpets, Who moveth thee, if sense impel thee not? Moves thee a light, which in the heaven takes form, By self, or by a will that downward guides it. Of her impiety, who changed her form Into the bird that most delights in singing, In my imagining appeared the trace; And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn Within itself, that from without there came Nothing that then might be received by it.
The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke; From this observe how can it do below That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?" Such limit ...
(5) And to the mortal world, when thou returnest, This carry back, that it may not presume Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet. The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke; From this observe how can it do below That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?" Such limit did its words prescribe to me, The question I relinquished, and restricted Myself to ask it humbly who it was. "Between two shores of Italy rise cliffs, And not far distant from thy native place, So high, the thunders far below them sound, And form a ridge that Catria is called, 'Neath which is consecrate a hermitage Wont to be dedicate to worship only." Thus unto me the third speech recommenced, And then, continuing, it said: "Therein Unto God's service I became so steadfast, That feeding only on the juice of olives Lightly I passed away the heats and frosts, Contented in my thoughts contemplative. That cloister used to render to these heavens Abundantly, and now is empty grown, So that perforce it soon must be revealed.
Thither we drew; and there were persons there Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, As one through indolence is wont to stand. And one of them, who...
(5) And as he finished uttering these words, A voice close by us sounded: "Peradventure Thou wilt have need of sitting down ere that." At sound thereof each one of us turned round, And saw upon the left hand a great rock, Which neither I nor he before had noticed. Thither we drew; and there were persons there Who in the shadow stood behind the rock, As one through indolence is wont to stand. And one of them, who seemed to me fatigued, Was sitting down, and both his knees embraced, Holding his face low down between them bowed. "O my sweet Lord," I said, "do turn thine eye On him who shows himself more negligent Then even Sloth herself his sister were." Then he turned round to us, and he gave heed, Just lifting up his eyes above his thigh, And said: "Now go thou up, for thou art valiant." Then knew I who he was; and the distress, That still a little did my breathing quicken, My going to him hindered not; and after I came to him he hardly raised his head, Saying: "Hast thou seen clearly how the sun O'er thy left shoulder drives his chariot?"
There much is lawful which is here unlawful Unto our powers, by virtue of the place Made for the human species as its own. Not long I bore it, nor so ...
(3) And even as a second ray is wont To issue from the first and reascend, Like to a pilgrim who would fain return, Thus of her action, through the eyes infused In my imagination, mine I made, And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont. There much is lawful which is here unlawful Unto our powers, by virtue of the place Made for the human species as its own. Not long I bore it, nor so little while But I beheld it sparkle round about Like iron that comes molten from the fire; And suddenly it seemed that day to day Was added, as if He who has the power Had with another sun the heaven adorned. With eyes upon the everlasting wheels Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her Fixing my vision from above removed, Such at her aspect inwardly became As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him Peer of the other gods beneath the sea. To represent transhumanise in words Impossible were; the example, then, suffice Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.
When they became aware I gave no place For passage of the sunshine through my body, They changed their song into a long, hoarse "Oh!" And two of...
(2) When they became aware I gave no place For passage of the sunshine through my body, They changed their song into a long, hoarse "Oh!" And two of them, in form of messengers, Ran forth to meet us, and demanded of us, "Of your condition make us cognisant." And said my Master: "Ye can go your way And carry back again to those who sent you, That this one's body is of very flesh. If they stood still because they saw his shadow, As I suppose, enough is answered them; Him let them honour, it may profit them." Vapours enkindled saw I ne'er so swiftly At early nightfall cleave the air serene, Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August, But upward they returned in briefer time, And, on arriving, with the others wheeled Tow'rds us, like troops that run without a rein. "This folk that presses unto us is great, And cometh to implore thee," said the Poet; "So still go onward, and in going listen." "O soul that goest to beatitude With the same members wherewith thou wast born," Shouting they came, "a little stay thy steps,
But even as a coal that sends forth flame, And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it So that its own appearance it maintains, Thus the effulgence that ...
(3) Therefore the vision must perforce increase, Increase the ardour which from that is kindled, Increase the radiance which from this proceeds. But even as a coal that sends forth flame, And by its vivid whiteness overpowers it So that its own appearance it maintains, Thus the effulgence that surrounds us now Shall be o'erpowered in aspect by the flesh, Which still to-day the earth doth cover up; Nor can so great a splendour weary us, For strong will be the organs of the body To everything which hath the power to please us." So sudden and alert appeared to me Both one and the other choir to say Amen, That well they showed desire for their dead bodies; Nor sole for them perhaps, but for the mothers, The fathers, and the rest who had been dear Or ever they became eternal flames. And lo! all round about of equal brightness Arose a lustre over what was there, Like an horizon that is clearing up. And as at rise of early eve begin Along the welkin new appearances, So that the sight seems real and unreal,
The many people and the divers wounds These eyes of mine had so inebriated, That they were wishful to stand still and weep; But said Virgilius: "What...
(1) The many people and the divers wounds These eyes of mine had so inebriated, That they were wishful to stand still and weep; But said Virgilius: "What dost thou still gaze at? Why is thy sight still riveted down there Among the mournful, mutilated shades? Thou hast not done so at the other Bolge; Consider, if to count them thou believest, That two-and-twenty miles the valley winds, And now the moon is underneath our feet; Henceforth the time allotted us is brief, And more is to be seen than what thou seest." "If thou hadst," I made answer thereupon, "Attended to the cause for which I looked, Perhaps a longer stay thou wouldst have pardoned." Meanwhile my Guide departed, and behind him I went, already making my reply, And superadding: "In that cavern where I held mine eyes with such attention fixed, I think a spirit of my blood laments The sin which down below there costs so much." Then said the Master: "Be no longer broken Thy thought from this time forward upon him; Attend elsewhere, and there let him remain;
Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling, That I should upward look; but I already Was of my own accord such as he wished; Because my sight,...
(3) Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling, That I should upward look; but I already Was of my own accord such as he wished; Because my sight, becoming purified, Was entering more and more into the ray Of the High Light which of itself is true. From that time forward what I saw was greater Than our discourse, that to such vision yields, And yields the memory unto such excess. Even as he is who seeth in a dream, And after dreaming the imprinted passion Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not, Even such am I, for almost utterly Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet Within my heart the sweetness born of it; Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed, Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost. O Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift thee From the conceits of mortals, to my mind Of what thou didst appear re-lend a little, And make my tongue of so great puissance, That but a single sparkle of thy glory It may bequeath unto the future people;
My mind in this wise wholly in suspense, Steadfast, immovable, attentive gazed, And evermore with gazing grew enkindled. In presence of that light...
(5) My mind in this wise wholly in suspense, Steadfast, immovable, attentive gazed, And evermore with gazing grew enkindled. In presence of that light one such becomes, That to withdraw therefrom for other prospect It is impossible he e'er consent; Because the good, which object is of will, Is gathered all in this, and out of it That is defective which is perfect there. Shorter henceforward will my language fall Of what I yet remember, than an infant's Who still his tongue doth moisten at the breast. Not because more than one unmingled semblance Was in the living light on which I looked, For it is always what it was before; But through the sight, that fortified itself In me by looking, one appearance only To me was ever changing as I changed. Within the deep and luminous subsistence Of the High Light appeared to me three circles, Of threefold colour and of one dimension,
Verily, while he does not there see [with the eyes], he is verily seeing, though he does not see (what is [usually] to be seen) l; for there is no...
(4) Verily, while he does not there see [with the eyes], he is verily seeing, though he does not see (what is [usually] to be seen) l; for there is no cessation of the seeing of a seer, because of his imperishability [as a seer]. It is not, however, a second thing, other than himself and separate, that he may see.