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Chapter
II.—The Theology of St. Hilary of Poitiers.
This Chapter offers no
more than a tentative and imperfect outline of the theology of St.
Hilary; it is an essay, not a monograph. Little attempt will be
made to estimate the value of his opinions from the point of view of
modern thought; little will be said about his relation to earlier and
contemporary thought, a subject on which he is habitually silent, and
nothing about the after fate of his speculations. Yet the task,
thus narrowed, is not without its difficulties. Much more
attention, it is true, has been paid to Hilary’s theology than to
the history of his life, and the student cannot presume to dispense
with the assistance of the books already written146
146 Those which have
been in constant use in the preparation of this chapter have been an
excellent article by Th. Förster in the Theologische Studien
und Kritiken for 1888, p. 645 ff., and two full and valuable papers
by Dr. Baltzer on the Theologie and Christologie of
Hilary in the Programm of the Rottweil Gymnasium for 1879 and
1889 respectively. I have unfortunately not had access to
Wirthmüller’s work, Die Lehre d. hl. Hil.
über die Selbstentäusserung Christi, but the
citations in Baltzer and Schwane give some clue to its contents.
The Introduction to the Benedictine edition is useful, though its value
is lessened by an evident desire to make Hilary conform to the accepted
opinions of a later age. Dorner’s great work on the
Doctrine of the Person of Christ, in the English translation,
with the Dogmengeschichte of Schwane (ed. 2, 1895) and that of
Harnack (ed. 3, 1894) have also been constantly and profitably
consulted. Indebtedness to other works is from time to time
acknowledged in the notes. | . But they cannot release him from the
necessity of collecting evidence for himself from the pages of Hilary,
and of forming his own judgment upon it, for none of them can claim
completeness and they differ widely as to the views which Hilary
held. There is the further difficulty that a brief statement of a
theologian’s opinions must be systematic. But Hilary has
abstained, perhaps deliberately, from constructing a system; the
scattered points of his teaching must be gathered from writings
composed at various times and with various purposes. The part of
his work which was, no doubt, most useful in his own day, his summary
in the De Trinitate of the defence against Arianism, is clear
and well arranged, but it bears less of the stamp of Hilary’s
genius than any other of his writings. His characteristic
thoughts are scattered over the pages of this great controversial
treatise, where the exigencies of his immediate argument often deny him
full scope for their development; or else they must be sought in his
Commentary on St. Matthew, where they find incidental expression in the
midst of allegorical exegesis; or again, amid the mysticism and
exhortation of the Homilies on the Psalms. It is in some
of these last that the Christology of Hilary is most completely stated;
but the Homilies were intended for a general audience, and are
unsystematic in construction and almost conversational in tone.
Hilary has never worked out his thoughts in consistent theological
form, and many of the most original among them have failed to attract
the attention which they would have received had they been presented in
such a shape as that of the later books of the De
Trinitate.
This desultory mode of composition had its advantages in
life and warmth of present interest, and gives to Hilary’s
writings a value as historical documents which a formal and
comprehensive treatise would have lacked. But it seriously
increases the difficulty of the present undertaking. It was
inevitable that Hilary’s method, though he is a singularly
consistent thinker, should sometimes lead him into self-contradiction
and sometimes leave his meaning in obscurity. In such cases
probabilities must be balanced, with due regard to the opinion of
former theologians who have studied his writings, and a definite
conclusion must be given, though space cannot be found for the
considerations upon which it is based. But though the writer may
be satisfied that he has, on the whole, fairly represented
Hilary’s belief, it is impossible that a summary of doctrine can
be an adequate reflection of a great teacher’s mind.
Proportions are altogether changed; a doctrine once stated and then
dismissed must be set down on the same scale as another to which the
author recurs again and again with
obvious interest. The inevitable result is an apparent coldness
and stiffness and excess of method which does Hilary an injustice both
as a thinker and as a writer. In the interests of orderly
sequence not only must he be represented as sometimes more consistent
than he really is, but the play of thought, the undeveloped
suggestions, often brilliant in their originality, the striking
expression given to familiar truths, must all be sacrificed, and with
the great part of the pleasure and profit to be derived from his
writings. For there are two conclusions which the careful student
will certainly reach; the one that every statement and argument will be
in hearty and scrupulous consonance with the Creeds, the other that,
within this limit, he must not be surprised at any ingenuity or
audacity of logic or exegesis in explanation and illustration of
recognised truths, and especially in the speculative connection of one
truth with another. But the evidence that Hilary’s heart,
as well as his reason, was engaged in the search and defence of truth
must be sought, where it will be abundantly found, in the translations
given in this volume. The present chapter only purposes to set
out, in a very prosaic manner, the conclusions at which his speculative
genius arrived, working as it did by the methods of strict logic in the
spirit of eager loyalty to the Faith.
In his effort to render a reason for his belief
Hilary’s constant appeal is to Scripture; and he avails himself
freely of the thoughts of earlier theologians. But he never makes
himself their slave; he is not the avowed adherent of any school, and
never cites the names of those whose arguments he adopts. These
he adjusts to his own system of thought, and presents for acceptance,
not on authority, but on their own merits. For Scripture,
however, he has an unbounded reverence. Everything that he
believes, save the fundamental truth of Theism, of which man has an
innate consciousness, being unable to gaze upon the heavens without the
conviction that God exists and has His home there147
147 Tr. in Ps.
xvii. 2, 4. | , is directly derived from Holy
Scripture. Scripture for Hilary means the Septuagint for the Old
Testament, the Latin for the New. He was, as we saw, no Hebrew
Scholar, and had small respect either for the versions which competed
with the Septuagint or for the Latin rendering of the old Testament,
but there is little evidence148
148 As e.g.
Trin. vi. 45. | that he was
dissatisfied with the Latin of the New; in fact, in one instance,
whether through habitual contentment with his Latin or through
momentary carelessness in verifying the sense, he bases an argument on
a thoroughly false interpretation149 . Of his
relation to Origen and the literary aspects of his exegetical work,
something has been said in the former chapter. Here we must speak
of his use of Scripture as the source of truth, and of the methods he
employs to draw out its meaning.
In Hilary’s eyes the two Testaments form one
homogeneous revelation, of equal value throughout150
150 Thus the Book of
Baruch, regarded as part of Jeremiah, is cited with the same confidence
as Isaiah and the other prophets in Trin. v. 39. | ,
and any part of the whole may be used in explanation of any other
part. The same title of beatissimus is given to Daniel and
to St. Paul when both are cited in Comm. in Matt. xxv. 3;
indeed, he and others of his day seem to have felt that the Saints of
the Old Covenant were as near to themselves as those of the New.
Not many years had passed since Christians were accustomed to encourage
themselves to martyrdom, in default of well-known heroes of their own
faith, by the example of Daniel and his companions, or of the Seven
Maccabees and their Mother. But Scripture is not only harmonious
throughout, as Origen had taught; it is also never otiose. It
never repeats itself, and a significance must be sought not only in the
smallest differences of language, but also in the order in which
apparent synonyms occur151
151 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. cxviii. Aleph. 1, cxxviii. 12. cxxxi. 8. It must
be confessed that Hilary’s illustrations of the principle are not
always fortunate. | ; in fact, every
detail, and every sense in which every detail may be interpreted,
is a matter for profitable enquiry152
152 Thus in
Trin. xi. 15, in commenting on Ps. xxii. 6, he puts forward two
alternative theories of the generation of worms, only one of which can
be true, while both may be false. But he uses both, to illustrate
two truths concerning our Lord. | . Hence,
the text of Scripture not only bears, but demands, the most strict and
literal interpretation. Hilary’s explanation of the words,
‘My soul is sorrowful even unto death,’ in Tract. in
Ps. cxli. 8 and Trin. x. 36, is a remarkable instance of his
method153
153 Cf. also
Trin. x. 67. | ; as is the argument from the words of
Isaiah, ‘We esteemed Him stricken,’ that this, so
far as it signifies an actual sense of pain in Christ, is only an
opinion, and a false one154
154 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxviii. 3. | . Similarly the
language of St. Paul about the treasures of knowledge hidden in Christ
is made to prove His omniscience on earth. Whatever is hidden is
present in its hiding-place; therefore Christ could not be
ignorant155
155 Trin. ix.
62. There is a similar argument in § 63. | . But this close
adherence to the text of Scripture is combined with great boldness in
its interpretation. Hilary does not venture, with Origen, to
assert that some passages of Scripture have no literal sense, but he
teaches that there are cases when its statements have no meaning in
relation to the circumstances in which they were written156
156 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. cxxv. 1. | , and uses this to enforce the doctrine,
which he holds as firmly as Origen, that the spiritual meaning is the
only one of serious importance157
157 Cf. Tr. in
Ps. cxlii. 1. | . All
religious truth is contained in Scripture, and it is our duty to be
ignorant of what lies outside it158
158 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxii. 6. | . But
within the limits of Scripture the utmost liberty of inference is to be
admitted concerning the purpose with which the words were written and
the sense to be attached to them. Sometimes, and especially in
his later writings, when Hilary was growing more cautious and weaning
himself from the influence of Origen, we are warned to be careful, not
to read too much of definite dogmatic truth into every passage, to
consider the context and occasion159
159 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. lxiii. 2; Trin. iv. 14, ix. 59. | .
Elsewhere, but this especially in that somewhat immature and unguarded
production, the Commentary on St. Matthew, we find a purpose and
meaning, beyond the natural sense, educed by such considerations as
that, while all the Gospel is true, its facts are often so stated as to
be a prophecy as well as a history; or that part of an event is
sometimes suppressed in the narrative in order to make the whole more
perfect as a prophecy160
160 Comm. in Matt.
xix. 4, xxi. 13. | . But he can
derive a lesson not merely from what Scripture says but also from the
discrepancies between the Septuagint as an independent and inspired
authority for the revelation of the Old Testament. Its
translators are ‘those seventy elders who had a knowledge of the
Law and of the Prophets which transcends the limitations and
doubtfulness of the letter161
161 Tr. in
Ps.cxlii. 1; cf. ib. cxxxi. 24, cxxxiii. 4, cl.
1. | . His
confidence in their work, which is not exceeded by that of St.
Augustine, encourages him to draw lessons from the differences between
the Hebrew and the Septuagint titles of the Psalms. For instance,
Psalm cxlii. has been furnished in the Septuagint with a title which
attributes it to David when pursued by Absalom. The contents of
the Psalm are appropriate neither to the circumstances nor to the
date. But this does not justify us in ignoring the title.
We must regard the fact that a wrong connection is given to the Psalm
as a warning to ourselves not to attempt to discover its historical
position, but confine ourselves to its spiritual sense. And this
is not all. Another Psalm, the third, is assigned in the Hebrew
to the same king in the same distress. But, though this
attribution is certainly correct, here also we must follow the leading
of the Septuagint, which was led to give a wrong title to one Psalm
lest we should attach importance to the correct title of another.
In both cases we must fix our attention not on the afflictions of
David, but on the sorrows of Christ. Thus, negatively if not
positively, the Septuagint must guide our judgement162
162 Similar
arguments are often used: cf. Tr. in Ps. cxlv.
1. | . But Hilary often goes even further,
and ventures upon a purely subjective interpretation, which sometimes gives
useful insight into the modes of thought of Gaul in the fourth
century. For instance, he is thoroughly classical in taking it
for granted that the Psalmist’s words, ‘I will lift up mine
eyes unto the hills,’ cannot refer to the natural feature; that
he can never mean the actual mountains bristling with woods, the naked
rocks and pathless precipices and frozen snows163 . And even Gregory the Great could
not surpass the prosaic grotesqueness with which Hilary declares it
impious to suppose that God would feed the young ravens, foul carrion
birds164 ; and that the lilies of the Sermon on the
Mount must be explained away, because they wear no clothing, and
because, as a matter of fact, it is quite possible for men to be more
brightly attired than they165
165 Comm. in Matt.
v. 11. | . Examples of
such reasoning, more or less extravagant, might be multiplied from
Hilary’s exegetical writings; passages in which no allowance is
made for Oriental imagery, for poetry or for rhetoric166
166 E.g. Comm. in
Matt. xviii. 2; Tr. in Ps. cxix. 20, cxxxiv. 12, cxxxvi. 6,
7; Trin. iv. 38. | .
But though Hilary throughout his whole period of
authorship uses the mystical method of interpretation, never doubting
that everywhere in Scripture there is a spiritual meaning which can be
elicited, and that whatever sense, consistent with truth otherwise
ascertained, can be extracted from it, may be extracted, yet there is a
manifest increase in sobriety in his later as compared with his earlier
writings. From the riotous profusion of mysticisms in the
commentary on St. Matthew, where, for instance, every character and
detail in the incident of St. John Baptist’s death becomes a
symbol, it is a great advance to the almost Athanasian cautiousness in
exegesis of the De Trinitate; though even here, especially in
the early books which deal with the Old Testament, there is some
extravagance and a very liberal employment of the method167 . His reasons, when he gives them,
are those adduced in his other writings; the inappropriateness of the
words to the time when they were written, or the plea that reverence or
reason bids us penetrate behind the letter. His increasing
caution is due to no distrust of the principle of mysticism.
Though Hilary was not its inventor, and was forced
by the large part played by Old Testament exegesis in the Arian
controversy to employ it, whether he would or not168
168 The
unhesitating use of the Theophanies of the Old Testament as direct
evidence for the divinity of Christ is noteworthy. Similar to the
usual proofs for the distinction of Persons within the Trinity, from
the alternate use of plural and singular, are the arguments in Tr.
in Ps. cxviii., Iod, 5, cxxvii. 4. | , yet it is certain that his hearty,
though not indiscriminate169
169 It is worth notice
that he makes no use of Origen’s mystical interpretation of the
Canticles. Silence in such a case is itself a criticism. | , acceptance of the
method led to its general adoption in the West. Tertullian and
Cyprian had made no great use of such speculations; Irenæus
probably had little influence. It was the introduction of
Origen’s thought to Latin Christendom by Hilary and his
contemporaries which set the fashion, and none of them can have had
such influence as Hilary himself. It is a strange irony of fate
that so deep and original a thinker should have exerted his most
permanent influence not through his own thoughts, but through this
dubious legacy which he handed on from Alexandria to Europe. Yet
within certain limits, it was a sound and, for that age, even a
scientific method; and Hilary might at least plead that he never
allowed the system to be his master, and that it was a means which
enabled him to derive from Scriptures which otherwise, to him, would be
unprofitable, some treasure of true and valuable instruction. It
never moulds his thoughts; at the most, he regards it as a useful
auxiliary. No praise can be too high for his wise and sober
marshalling not so much of texts as of the collective evidence of
Scripture concerning the relation of the Father and the Son in the
De Trinitate; and if his Christology be not equally convincing,
it is not the fault of his method, but of its application170
170 Compare such a
passage as Trin. x. 24 with his use of the proof-texts against
Arianism. | . We cannot wonder that Hilary, who owed
his clear dogmatic convictions to a careful and independent study of
Scripture, should have wished to lead others to the same source of
knowledge. He couples it with the Eucharist as a second Table of
the Lord, a public means of grace, which needs, if it is to profit the
hearer, the same preparation of a pure heart and life171
171 Tr. in Ps.
cxxvii. 10. | . Attention to the lessons read in
church is a primary duty, but private study of Scripture is enforced
with equal earnestness172
172 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. xci. 10, cxviii. Iod, 15, cxxxiv. 1, cxxxv.
1. | . It must be
for all, as Hilary had found it for himself, a privilege as well as a
duty.
His sense of the value of Scripture is heightened
by his belief in the sacredness of language. Names belong
inseparably to the things which they signify; words are themselves a
revelation. This is a lesson learnt from Origen; and the false
antithesis between the nature and the name of God, of which, according
to the Arians, Christ had the latter only, made it of special use to
Hilary173
173 E g.
Trin. vii. 13; and cf. the argument which is also Athanasian, of
vii. 31. | . But if this high dignity belongs
to every statement of truth, there is the less need for technical terms
of theology. The rarity of their occurrence in the pages of
Hilary has already been mentioned. ‘Trinity’174
174 Beside the
passages mentioned on p. xxx., it only occurs in Instructio
Psalmorum § 13. | is almost absent, and
‘Person’175
175 The translation
of the De Trinitate in this volume may give a somewhat false
impression in this respect. For the sake of conciseness the word
Person has been often used in the English where it is absent,
and absent designedly in the Latin. The word occurs Trin.
iii. 23 in., iv. 42, v. 10, 26, vii. 39, 40, and in a few other
places. | hardly more common,
he prefers, by a turn of language which would scarcely be seemly in
English, to speak of the ‘embodied’ Christ and of His
‘Embodiment,’ though Latin theology was already familiar
with the ‘Incarnation176
176
Concorporatio, Comm. in Matt. vi. 1;
corporatio, Tr. in Ps. i. 14, ii. 3, and often;
corporatus Deus, Comm. in Matt. iv. 14, Tr. in
Ps. li. 16; corporalitas, Comm. in Matt.
iv. 14 (twice), Instr. Ps. vi. In the De Trinitate
he usually prefers a periphrasis;—assumpta caro,
assumpsit carnem. Corporatiois used of
man’s dwelling in a body in Trin. xi. 15, and De
Mysteriis, ed. Gamurrini, p. 5. | .’ In
fact, it would seem that he had resolved to make himself independent of
technical terms and of such lines of thought as would require
them. But he is never guilty of confusion caused by an inadequate
vocabulary. He has the literary skill to express in ordinary
words ideas which are very remote from ordinary thought, and this at no
inordinate length. No one, for instance, has developed the idea
of the mutual indwelling of Father and Son more fully and clearly than
he; yet he has not found it necessary to employ or devise the monstrous
‘circuminsession’ or ‘perichoresis’ of later
theology. And where he does use terms of current theology, or
rather metaphysic, he shews that he is their master, not their
slave. The most important idea of this kind which he had to
express was that of the Divine substance. The word
‘essence’ is entirely rejected177
177 It occurs in
the De Synodis 69, but in that work Hilary is writing as an
advocate in defence of language used by others, not as the exponent of
his own thoughts. It also occurs once or twice in translations
from the Greek, probably by another hand than Hilary’s; but from
his own authorship it is completely absent. | ;
‘substance’ and ‘nature’ are freely used as
synonyms, but in such alternation that both of them still obviously
belong to the sphere of literature, and not of science. They are
twice used as exact alternatives, for the avoidance of monotony, in
parallel clauses of Trin. vi. 18, 19. So also the nature
of fire in vii. 29 is not an abstraction; and in ix. 36 fin. the
Divine substance and nature are equivalents. These are only a few
of many instances178
178 Trin.
v. 10,Syn. 69, ‘God is One not in Person, but in
nature,’ Trin. iv. 42, ‘Not by oneness of Person but
by unity of substance;’ vi. 35, ‘the birth of a living
Nature from a living Nature.’ Often enough the substance or
nature of God or Christ is simply a periphrasis. The two natures
in the Incarnate Christ are also mentioned, though, as we shall see,
Hilary here also avoids a precise nomenclature. | .
Here, as always, there is an abstention from abstract thoughts
and terms, which indicates, on the part of a student of philosophy and
of philosophical theology, a deliberate narrowing of his range of
speculation. We may illustrate the purpose of Hilary by comparing
his method with that of the author of a treatise on Astronomy without
Mathematics. But some part of his caution is probably due to his
sense of the inadequacy of the
terms with which Latin theology was as yet equipped, and of the danger,
not only to his readers’ faith, but to his own reputation for
orthodoxy, which might result from ingenuity in the employment or
invention of technical language.
Though, as we have seen, the contemplative state
is not the ultimate happiness of man, yet the knowledge of God is
essential to salvation179 ; man, created in
God’s image, is by nature capable of, and intended for, such
knowledge, and Christ came to impart it, the necessary condition on the
side of humanity being purity of mind180
180 Tr. in
Ps.cxviii, Aleph., § 1. | , and the
result the elevation of man to the life of God. Hilary does not
shrink from the emphatic language of the Alexandrian school, which
spoke of the ‘deification’ of man; God, he says, was born
to be man, in order that man might be born to be God181 . If this end is to be attained,
obviously what is accepted as knowledge must be true; hence the supreme
wickedness of heresy, which destroys the future of mankind by palming
upon them error for truth; the greater their dexterity the greater,
because the more deliberate, their crime. And Hilary was
obviously convinced that his opponents had conceived this nefarious
purpose. It is not in the language of mere conventional polemics,
but in all sincerity, that he repeatedly describes them as liars who
cannot possibly be ignorant of the facts which they misrepresent,
inventors of sophistical arguments and falsifiers of the text of
Scripture, conscious that their doom is sealed, and endeavouring to
divert their minds from the thought of future misery by involving
others in their own destruction182
182 Cf. Tr. in
Ps. cxix. 10; Trin. v. 1, 26, vi. 46 ff., viii. 37, &c.,
&c. | . He fully
recognises the ability and philosophical learning displayed by them; it
only makes their case the worse, and, after all, is merely folly.
But it increases the difficulties of the defenders of the Faith.
For though man can and must know God, Who, for His part, has revealed
Himself, our knowledge ought to consist in a simple acceptance of the
precise terms of Scripture. The utmost humility is necessary;
error begins when men grow inquisitive. Our capacity for
knowledge, as Hilary is never tired of insisting, is so limited that we
ought to be content to believe without defining the terms of our
belief. For weak as intellect is, language, the instrument which
it must employ, is still less adequate to so great a task183 . Heresy has insisted upon
definition, and the true belief is compelled to follow suit184
184 Trin.
ii. 2, in vitium vitio coaretamur alieno. | . Here again, in the heretical abuse
of technical terms and of logical processes, we find a reason for the
almost ostentatious simplicity of diction which we often find in
Hilary’s pages. He evidently believed that it was possible
for us to apprehend revealed truth and to profit fully by it, without
paraphrase or other explanation. In the case of one great
doctrine, as we shall see, no necessities of controversy compelled him
to develope his belief; if he had had his way, the Faith should never
have been stated in ampler terms than ‘I believe in the Holy
Ghost.’
In a great measure he has succeeded in retaining
this simplicity in regard to the doctrine of God. He had the full
Greek sense of the divine unity; there is no suggestion of the
possession by the Persons of the Trinity of contrasted or complementary
qualities. The revelation he would defend is that of God, One,
perfect, infinite, immutable. This absolute God has manifested
Himself under the name ‘He that
is,’ to which Hilary constantly recurs. It is only
through His own revelation of Himself that God can be known. But
here we are faced by a difficulty; our reason is inadequate and tends
to be fallacious. The argument from analogy, which we should
naturally use, cannot be a sufficient guide, since it must proceed from
the finite to the infinite. Hilary has set this forth with great
force and frequency, and with a picturesque variety of
illustration. Again, our partial glimpses of the truth are often
in apparent contradiction; when this is the case, we need to be on our
guard against the temptation to reject one as incompatible
with the other. We must devote an equal attention to each, and
believe without hesitation that both are true. The interest of
the De Trinitate is greatly heightened by the skill and courage
with which Hilary will handle some seeming paradox, and make the
antithesis of opposed infinities conduce to reverence for Him of Whom
they are aspects. And he never allows his reader to forget the
immensity of his theme; and here again the skill is manifest with which
he casts upon the reader the same awe with which he is himself
impressed.
Of God as Father Hilary has little that is new to
say. He is called Father in Scripture; therefore He is Father and
necessarily has a Son. And conversely the fact that Scripture
speaks of God the Son is proof of the fatherhood. In fact, the
name ‘Son’ contains a revelation so necessary for the times
that it has practically banished that of ‘the Word,’ which
we should have expected Hilary, as a disciple of Origen, to employ by
preference185
185 Deus
Verbumoften; Verbum alone rarely, if ever.
Dorner with his iteration of ‘Logos,’ gives an altogether
false impression of Hilary’s vocabulary. | . But since
faith in the Father alone is insufficient for salvation186
186 Trin. i. 17
and often. | , and is, indeed, not only insufficient
but actually false, because it denies His fatherhood in ignoring the
consubstantial Son, Hilary’s attention is concentrated upon the
relation between these two Persons. This relation is one of
eternal mutual indwelling, or ‘perichoresis,’ as it has
been called, rendered possible by Their oneness of nature and by the
infinity of Both. The thought is worked out from such passages
as Isaiah xlv.
14, St. John xiv. 11, with great cogency and
completeness, yet always with due stress laid on the incapacity of man
to comprehend its immensity. Hilary advances from this scriptural
position to the profound conception of the divine self-consciousness as
consisting in Their mutual recognition. Each sees Himself in His
perfect image, which must be coeternal with Himself. In Hilary
this is only a hint, one of the many thoughts which the urgency of the
conflict with Arianism forbade him to expand. But Dorner justly
sees in it ‘a kind of speculative construction of the doctrine of
the Trinity, out of the idea of the divine self-consciousness187
187 Doctrine of the
Person of Christ, I. ii. p. 302, English translation.
The passages to which he refers are Comm. in Matt. xi. 12;
Tr. in Ps. xci. 6; Trin. ii. 3, ix. 69. There is a
good, though brief, statement of this view in Mason’s Faith of
the Gospel, p. 56. | .’
The Arian controversy was chiefly waged over the
question of the eternal generation of the Son. By the time that
Hilary began to write, every text of Scripture which could be made
applicable to the point in dispute had been used to the utmost.
There was little or nothing that remained to be done in the discovery
or combination of passages. Of that controversy Athanasius was
the hero; the arguments which he used and those which he refuted are
admirably set forth in the introduction to the translation of his
writings in this series. In writing the De Trinitate, so
far as it dealt directly with the original controversy, it was neither
possible nor desirable that Hilary should leave the beaten path.
His object was to provide his readers with a compendious statement of
ascertained truth for their own guidance, and with an armoury of
weapons which had been tried and found effective in the conflicts of
the day. It would, therefore, be superfluous to give in this
place a detailed account of his reasonings concerning the generation of
the Son, nor would such an account be of any assistance to those who
have his writings in their hands. Hilary’s treatment of the
Scriptural evidence is very complete, as was, indeed, necessary in a
work which was intended as a handbook for practical use. The
Father alone is unbegotten; the Son is truly the Son, neither created
nor adopted. The Son is the Creator of the worlds, the Wisdom of
God, Who alone knows the Father, Who manifested God to man in the
various Theophanies of the Old Testament. His birth is without
parallel, inasmuch as other births imply a previous non-existence,
while that of the Son is from eternity. For the generation on the
part of the Father and the birth on the part of the Son are not
connected as by a
temporal sequence of cause and effect, but exactly coincide in a
timeless eternity188
188 Trin. xii.
21, ‘the birth is in the generation and the generation in the
birth.’ | . Hilary
repudiates the possibility of illustrating this divine birth by
sensible analogies; it is beyond our understanding as it is beyond
time. Nor can we wonder at this, seeing that our own birth is to
us an insoluble mystery. The eternal birth of the Son is the
expression of the eternal nature of God. It is the nature of the
One that He should be Father, of the Other that He should be Son; this
nature is co-eternal with Themselves, and therefore the One is
co-eternal with the Other. Hence Athanasius had drawn the
conclusion that the Son is ‘by nature and not by
will’189
189 Discourses
against the Arians, iii. 58 ff; see Robertson’s notes in the
Athanasius volume of this series, p. 426. | ; not that the
will of God is contrary to His nature, but that (if the words may be
used) there was no scope for its exercise in the generation of the Son,
which came to pass as a direct consequence of the Divine nature.
Such language was a natural protest against an Arian abuse; but it was
a departure from earlier precedent and was not accepted by that
Cappadocian school, more true to Alexandrian tradition than Athanasius
himself, with which Hilary was in closest sympathy. In their eyes
the generation of the Son must be an act of God’s will, if the
freedom of Omnipotence, for which they were jealous, was to be
respected; and Hilary shared their scruples. Not only in the
De Synodis but in the De Trinitate190
190 E.g. Syn.
35, 37, 59, Trin. iii. 4, vi. 21, viii. 54. | he assigns the birth of the Son to the
omnipotence, the counsel and will of God acting in co-operation with
His nature. This two-fold cause of birth is peculiar to the Son;
all other beings owe their existence simply to the power and will, not
to the nature of God191
191 Cf. Baltzer,
Theologie d. hl. Hil. p. 19 f. | . Such being
the relation between Father and Son, it is obvious that They cannot
differ in nature. The word ‘birth,’ by which the
relation is described, indicates the transmission of nature from parent
to offspring; and this word is, like ‘Father’ and
‘Son,’ an essential part of the revelation. The same
divine nature or substance exists eternally and in equal perfection in
Both, un-begotten in the Father, begotten in the Son. In fact,
the expression, ‘Only-begotten God’ may be called
Hilary’s watchword, with such ‘peculiar abundance192
192 Hort, Two
Dissertations, p. 21, and cf. p. xvi., above. | ’ does it occur in his writings, as in
those of his Cappadocian friends. But, though the Son is the
Image of the Father, Hilary in his maturer thought, when free from the
influence of his Asiatic allies, is careful to avoid using the
inadequate and perilous term ‘likeness’ to describe the
relation193
193 It constantly
appears, though with all due safeguards, in the De Synodis,
where sympathy as well as policy impelled him to approximate the
language used by his friends. Similarly in Trin. iii. 23,
he argues, from the admitted likeness, that there can be no
difference. But, as we saw, this part of the De Trinitate
is probably an early work, and does not represent Hilary’s later
thought. | . Such being
the birth, and such the unity of nature, the Son must be very
God. This is proved by all the usual passages of the Old
Testament, from the Creation, onwards. These are used, as by the
other Fathers, to prove that the Son has not the name only, but the
reality, of Godhead; the reality corresponding to the nature. All
things were made through Him out of nothing; therefore He is Almighty
as the Father is Almighty. If man is made in the image of Both,
if one Spirit belongs to Both, there can be no difference of nature
between the Two. But They are not Two as possessing one nature,
like human father and son, while living separate lives. God is
One, with a Divinity undivided and indivisible194 ;
and Hilary is never weary of denying the Arian charge that his creed
involved the worship of two Gods. No analogies from created
things can explain this unity. Tree and branch, fire and heat,
source and stream can only illustrate Their inseparable co-existence;
such comparisons, if pressed, lead inevitably to error. The true
unity of Father and Son is deeper than this; deeper also than any
unity, however perfect, of will with will. For it is an eternal
mutual indwelling, Each perfectly corresponding with and comprehending
and containing the Other, and Himself in the Other; and this not after the manner of earthly
commingling of substances or exchange of properties. The only
true comparison that can be made is with the union between Christ, in
virtue of His humanity, and the believer195 ;
such is the union, in virtue of the Godhead, between Father and
Son. And this unity extends inevitably to will and action, since
the Father is acting in all that the Son does, the Son is acting in all
that the Father does; ‘he that hath seen Me hath seen the
Father.’ This doctrine reconciles all our Lord’s
statements in the Gospel of St. John concerning His own and His
Father’s work.
But, notwithstanding this unity, there is a true
numerical duality of Person. Sabellius, we must remember, had
held for two generations the pre-eminence among heretics. To the
Greek-speaking world outside Egypt the error which he and Paul of
Samosata had taught, that God is one Person, was still the most
dangerous of falsehoods; the supreme victory of truth had not been won
in their eyes when Arius was condemned at Nicæa, but when Paul was
deposed at Antioch. The Nicene leaders had certainly counted the
cost when they adopted as the test of orthodoxy the same word which
Paul had used for the inculcation of error. But the
homoousion, however great its value as a permanent safeguard of
truth, was the immediate cause of alienation and suspicion. And
not only did it make the East misunderstand the West, but it furnished
the Arians with the most effective of instruments for widening the
breach between the two forces opposed to them. They had an excuse
for calling their opponents in Egypt and the West by the name of
Sabellians, the very name most likely to engender distrust in
Asia196
196 Cf. Sulp
Sev., Chron. ii. 42 for the Eastern suspicion that the West held
a trionyma unio;—one Person under three
names. Sulpicius ascribes it to Arian slander, but its causes lay
deeper than this. | . Hilary, who could enter with
sympathy into the Eastern mind and had learnt from his own treatment at
Seleucia how strong the feeling was, labours with untiring patience to
dissipate the prejudice. There is no Arian plea against which he
argues at greater length. The names ‘Father’ and
‘Son,’ being parts of the revelation, are convincing proofs
of distinction of Person as well as of unity of nature. They
prove that the nature is the same, but possessed after a different
manner by Each of the Two; by the One as ingenerate, by the Other as
begotten. The word ‘Image,’ also a part of the
revelation, is another proof of the distinction; an object and its
reflection in a mirror are obviously not one thing. Again, the
distinct existence of the Son is proved by the fact that He has free
volition of His own; and by a multitude of passages of Scripture, many
of them absolutely convincing, as for instance, those from the Gospel
of St John. But these two Persons, though one in nature, are not
equal in dignity. The Father is greater than the Son; greater not
merely as compared to the incarnate Christ, but as compared to the Son,
begotten from eternity. This is not simply by the prerogative
inherent in all paternity; it is because the Father is self-existent,
Himself the Source of all being197
197 This was the
doctrine of all the earlier theologians, soon to be displaced in the
stress of controversy by the opinion that the inferiority concerns the
Son only as united with man. See the citations in
Westcott’s Gospel of St. John, additional note to xiv.
28. | .
With one of His happy phrases Hilary describes it as an
inferiority generatione, non genere198
198 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxviii. 17. | ; the Son is one in kind or nature with
the Father, though inferior, as the Begotten, to the Unbegotten.
But this inferiority is not to be so construed as to lessen our belief
in His divine attributes. For instance, when He addresses the
Father in prayer, this is not because He is subordinate, but because He
wishes to honour the Fatherhood199 ; and, as Hilary
argues at great length200
200 Trin. xi. 21 ff.,
on 1 Cor. xv, 21 ff. | , the end, when God
shall be all in all, is not to be regarded as a surrender of the
Son’s power, in the sense of loss. It is a mysterious final
state of permanent, willing submission to the Father’s will, into
which He enters by the supreme expression of an obedience which has
never failed. Again, our Lord’s language in St.
Mark xiii. 32, must not be taken as signifying
ignorance on the part of the Son of His Father’s purpose.
For, according to St. Paul (Col. ii. 3), in Him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, and
therefore He must know the day and hour of judgment. He is
ignorant relatively to us, in the sense that He will not betray His
Father’s secret201 . Whether or no
it be possible in calmer times to maintain that the knowledge and the
ignorance are complementary truths which finite minds cannot reconcile,
we cannot wonder that Hilary, ever on the watch against apparent
concessions to Arianism, should in this instance have abandoned his
usual method of balancing against each other the apparent
contraries. His reasoning is, in any case, a striking proof of
his intense conviction of the co-equal Godhead of the Son.
Such is Hilary’s argument, very briefly
stated. We may read almost all of it, where Hilary himself had
certainly read it, in the Discourses against the Arians and
elsewhere in the writings of Athanasius. How far, however, he was
borrowing from the latter must remain doubtful, as must the question as
to the originality of Athanasius. For the controversy was
universal, and both of these great writers had the practical purpose of
collecting the best arguments out of the multitude which were suggested
in ephemeral literature or verbal debate. Their victory,
intellectual as well as moral, over their adversaries was decisive, and
the more striking because it was the Arians who had made the attack on
ground chosen by themselves. The authority of Scripture as the
final court of appeal was their premise as well as that of their
opponents; and they had selected the texts on which the verdict of
Scripture was to be based. Out of their own mouth they were
condemned, and the work done in the fourth century can never need to be
repeated. It was, of course, an unfinished work. As we have
seen, Hilary concerns himself with two Persons, not with three; and
since he states the contrasted truths of plurality and unity without
such explanation of the mystery as the speculative genius of Augustine
was to supply, he leaves, in spite of all his efforts, a certain
impression of excessive dualism. But these defects do not lessen
the permanent value of his work.. Indeed, we may even assert that
they, together with some strange speculations and many instances of
which interpretation, which are, however, no part of the structure of
his argument and could not affect its solidity, actually enhance its
human and historical interest. The De Trinitate remains
‘the most perfect literary achievement called forth by the Arian
controversy202
202 Bardenhewer,
Patrologie, p. 377. | .’
Hitherto we have been considering the relations
within the Godhead of Father and Son, together with certain characters
which belong to the Son in virtue of His eternal birth. We now
come to the more original part of Hilary’s teaching, which must
be treated in greater detail. Till now he has spoken only of the
Son; he now comes to speak of Christ, the name which the Son bears in
relation to the world. We have seen that Hilary regards the Son
as the Creator203
203 This is one of
Hilary’s many reminiscences of Origen. Athanasius brought
the father into direct connection with the world; cf. Harnack,
Dogmengesch. ii. 206 (ed. 3). | . This was
proved for him, as for Athanasius, by the passage, Proverbs viii. 22, which they read according to the
Septuagint, ‘The Lord hath’ created Me for the beginning of
His ways for His Works204
204 Trin. xii.
35 ff. The passage is treated at much greater length in
Athanasius’ Discourses against the Arians, ii. 18 ff.,
where see Robertson’s notes. | .’ These
words, round which the controversy raged, were interpreted by the
orthodox as implying that at the time, and for the purpose, of creation
the Father assigned new functions to the Son as His
representative. The gift of these functions, the exercise of
which called into existence orders of being inferior to God, marked in
Hilary’s eyes a change so definite and important in the activity
of the Son that it deserved to be called a second birth, not ineffable
like the eternal birth, but strictly analogous to the
Incarnation. This last was a creation, which brought Him within
the sphere of created humanity; the creation of Wisdom for the
beginning of God’s ways had brought Him, though less closely,
into the same relation205 , and
the Incarnation is the
completion of what was begun in preparation for the creation of the
world. Creation is the mode by which finite being begins, and the
beginning of each stage in the connection between the infinite Son and
His creatures is called, from the one point of view, a creation, from
the other, a birth. We cannot fail to see here an anticipation of
the opinion that ‘the true Protevangelium is the revelation of
Creation, or in other words that the Incarnation was independent of the
Fall206
206 Westcott, essay on
‘The Gospel of Creation,’ in his edition of St.
John’s Epistles, where, however Hilary is not mentioned. | ,’ for the Incarnation is a step in the
one continuous divine progress from the Creation to the final
consummation of all things, and has not sin for its cause, but is part
of the original counsel of God207 . Together
with this new office the Son receives a new name. Henceforth
Hilary calls Him Christ; He is Christ in relation to the world, as He
is Son in relation to the Father. From the beginning of time,
then, the Son becomes Christ and stands in immediate relation to the
world; it is in and through Christ that God is the Author of all
things208
208 Trin.
ii. 6, xii. 4, &c. He is also often named Jesus Christ
in this connection, e.g. Trin. iv. 6. | , and the title of Creator strictly belongs
to the Son. This beginning of time, we must remember, is hidden
in no remote antiquity. The world had no mysterious past; it came
into existence suddenly at a date which could be fixed with much
precision, some 5,600 years before Hilary’s day209
209 According to
Eusebius’ computation, which Hilary would probably accept without
dispute, there were 5,228 years from the creation to our Lord’s
commencement of his mission in the 15th year of Tiberius, a.d. 29. | , and had undergone no change since then.
Before that date there had been nothing outside the Godhead; from that
time forth the Son has stood in constant relation to the created
world.
Christ, for so we must henceforth call Him, has
not only sustained in being the universe which He created, but has also
imparted to men a steadily increasing knowledge of God. For such
knowledge, we remember, man was made, and his salvation depends upon
its possession. All the Theophanies of the Old Testament are such
revelations by Him of Himself; and it was He that spoke by the mouth of
Moses and the Prophets. But however significant and valuable this
Divine teaching and manifestation might be, it was not complete in
itself, but was designed to prepare men’s minds to expect its
fulfilment in the Incarnation. Just as the Law was preliminary to
the Gospel, so the appearances of Christ in human form to Abraham and
to others were a foreshadowing of the true humanity which He was to
assume. They were true revelations, as far as they went; but
their purpose was not simply to impart so much knowledge as they
explicitly conveyed, but also to lead men on to expect more, and to
expect it in the very form in which it ultimately came210
210 E.g. Trin.
iv. 27; Tr. in Ps. lxviii. 19. | . For His self-revelation in the
Incarnation was but the treading again of a familiar path. He had
often appeared, and had often spoken, by His own mouth or by that of
men whom He had inspired; and in all this contact with the world His
one object had been to bestow upon mankind the knowledge of God.
With the same object He became incarnate; the full revelation was to
impart the perfect knowledge. He became man, Hilary says, in
order that we might believe Him;—‘to be a Witness from
among us to the things of God, and by means of weak flesh to proclaim
God the Father to our weak and carnal selves211 .’ Here again we see the
continuity of the Divine purpose, the fulfilment of the counsel which
dates back to the beginning of time. If man had not sinned, he
would still have needed the progressive revelation; sin has certainly
modified Christ’s course upon earth, but was not the determining
cause of the Incarnation.
The doctrine of the Incarnation, or Embodiment as
Hilary prefers to call it, is presented very fully in the De
Trinitate, and with much originality. The Godhead of Christ
is secured by His identity with the eternal Son and by the fact that at
the very time of His humiliation upon earth He was continuing without
interruption His divine work of maintaining the existence of the
worlds212
212 Trin. ii. 25
and often. | . Indeed, by a natural protest against
the degradation which the Arians would put upon Him, it is the glory of
Christ upon which Hilary lays chief stress. And this is not the
moral glory of submission and self-sacrifice, but the visible glory of
miracles attesting the Divine presence. In the third book of the
De Trinitate the miracles of Cana and of the feeding of the five
thousand, the entrance into the closed room where the disciples were
assembled, the darkness and the earthquake at the Crucifixion, are the
proofs urged for His Godhead; and the wonderful circumstances
surrounding the birth at Bethlehem are similarly employed in book
ii.213
213 Trin.
ii. 27. The same conclusion is constantly drawn in the
Comm. in Matt. | Sound as the reasoning is, it is
typical of a certain unwillingness on Hilary’s part to dwell upon
the self-surrender of Christ; he prefers to think of Him rather as the
Revealer of God than as the Redeemer of men. But, apart from this
preference, he constantly insists that the Incarnation has caused
neither loss nor change of the Divine nature in Christ214
214 E g.
Trin. ix. 4, 14, 51; Tr. in Ps. ii. 11, 25. | , and proves the point by the same words of
our Lord which had been used to demonstrate the eternal Sonship.
And the assumption of flesh lessens His power as little as it degrades
His nature. For though it is, in one aspect, an act of submission
to the will of the Father, it is, in another, an exertion of His own
omnipotence. No inferior power could appropriate to itself an
alien nature; only God could strip Himself of the attributes of
Godhead215
215 Trin. ii. 26,
xii. 6, &c. | .
But the incarnate Christ is as truly man as He is
truly God. We have seen that He is ‘created in the
body’; and Hilary constantly insists that His humanity is neither
fictitious nor different in kind from ours216
216 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. cxxxviii. 3. | . We must therefore consider what is
the constitution of man. He is, so Hilary teaches, a physically
composite being; the elements of which his body is composed are
themselves lifeless, and man himself is never fully alive217
217 This, in
contrast with God, Who is Life, is proved by the fact that certain
bodily growths can be removed without our being conscious of the
operation; Trin. vii. 28. | . According to this physiology, the
father is the author of the child’s body, the maternal function
being altogether subsidiary. It would seem that the mother does
nothing more than protect the embryo, so giving it the opportunity of
growth, and finally bring the child to birth218
218 Cf.
Trin. vii. 28, x. 15, 16. Similarly in the
Eumenides 637, Æschylus makes Apollo excuse Orestes’
murder of Clytænnestra on the ground that the mother is not the
parent, but only the nurse of the germ. This is contrary to
Aristotle’s teaching; Æschylus and Hilary evidently
represent a rival current of ancient opinion. | . And each human soul is separately
created, like the universe, out of nothing. Only the body is
engendered; the soul, wherein the likeness of man to God consists, has
a nobler origin, being the immediate creation of God219
219 Trin. x.
20. In Tr. in Ps. cxviii., Iod, 6, 7, this thought
is developed. Man has a double origin. First, he is made
after the likeness of God. This is the soul, which is immaterial
and has no resemblance and owes no debt, as of effect to cause, to any
other nature (i.e. substance) than God. It is not His likeness,
but is after His likeness. Secondly, there is the body, composed
of earthly matter. | . Hilary does not hold, or at least
does not attach importance to, the tripartite division of man; for the
purposes of his philosophy we consist of soul and body. We may
now proceed to consider his theory of the Incarnation. This is
based upon the Pauline conception of the first and second Adam.
Each of these was created, and the two acts of creation exactly
correspond. Christ, the Creator, made clay into the first Adam,
who therefore had an earthly body. He made Himself into the
second Adam, and therefore has a heavenly Body. To this end He
descended from heaven and entered into the Virgin’s womb.
For, in accordance with Hilary’s principle of
interpretation220
220 Trin. ii. 30 f.,
viii. 23 f. | , the word
‘Spirit’ must not be regarded as necessarily signifying the
Holy Ghost, but one or other of the Persons of the Trinity as the
context may require; and in this case it means the Son, since the
question is of an act of creation, and He, and none other, is the
Creator. Also, correspondence between the two Adams would be as
effectually broken were the Holy Ghost the Agent in the conception, as
it would be were Christ’s body engendered and not created.
Thus He is Himself not
only the Author but (if the word may be used) the material of His own
body221
221 Trin. x. 16,
caro non aliunde originem sumpserat quam ex Verbo, and
ib. 15, 18, 25. Dorner, I. ii., p. 403, n. 1, points out
that this is exactly the teaching of Gregory of Nyssa. | ; the language of St. John, that the Word
became flesh, must be taken literally. It would be
insufficient to say that the Word took, or united Himself to, the
flesh222
222 This view that
the conception by the Holy Ghost means conception by the Son is
consistently held by Hilary throughout his writings. It appears
in the earliest of them; in Comm. in Matt. ii. 5, Christ is
‘born of a woman;…Made flesh through the Word.’
So in Trin. ii. 24, He is ‘born of the Virgin and of the
Holy Ghost, Himself ministering to Himself in this operation.…By
His own, that is God’s, overshadowing power He sowed for Himself
the beginnings of His body and ordained that His flesh should commence
to exist; and Trin. x 16. | . But this creation of the Second
Adam to be true man is not our only evidence of His humanity. We
have seen that in Hilary’s judgment the mother has but a
secondary share in her offspring. That share, whatever it be,
belongs to the Virgin; she contributed to His growth and to His coming
to birth ‘everything which it is the nature of her sex to
impart223
223 Trin.
x. 16; cf. ib. 17. In the Instructio
Psalmorum, § 6, he speaks in more usual
language;—adventus Domini ex virgine in hominem
procreandi, and also in some other passages. Dorner’s
view (I. ii. 403 f. and note 74, p. 533) differs from that here
taken. But he is influenced (see especially p. 404) by the desire
to save Hilary’s consistency rather than to state his actual
opinion. And Hilary was too early in the field, too anxiously
employed in feeling his way past the pitfalls of heresy, to escape the
danger of occasional inconsistency. | .’ But though Christ is
constantly said to have been born of the Virgin, He is habitually
called the ‘Son of Man,’ not the Son of the Virgin, nor she
the Mother of God. Such language would attribute to her an
activity and an importance inconsistent with Hilary’s
theory. For no portion of her substance, he distinctly says, was
taken into the substance of her Son’s human body224
224 Trin. iii. 19,
perfectum ipsa de suis non imminuta generavit. So
ib. ii. 25, unigenitus
Deus.…Virginis utero insertus accrescit.
He grew there, but nothing more. In Virginem
exactly corresponds to ex Virgine. | ; and elsewhere he argues that St.
Paul’s words ‘made of a woman’ are deliberately
chosen to describe Christ’s birth as a creation free from any
commingling with existing humanity225
225 Trin.
xii. 50; it would be a watering of the sense to regard commixtio
in this passage as simply equivalent to coitio. | . But the
Virgin has an essential share in the fulfilment of prophecy. For
though Christ without her co-operation could have created Himself as
Man, yet He would not have been, as He was fore-ordained to be, the Son
of Man226 . And since He holds that the Virgin
performs every function of a mother, Hilary avoids that Valentinian
heresy according to which Christ passed through the Virgin ‘like
water through a pipe227 ,’ for He
was Himself the Author of a true act of creation within her, and, when
she had fulfilled her office, was born as true flesh. Again,
Hilary’s clear sense of the eternal personal pre-existence of the
Word saves him from any contact with the Monarchianism combated by
Hippolytus and Tertullian, which held that the Son was the Father under
another aspect. Indeed, so secure does he feel himself that he
can venture to employ Monarchian theories, now rendered harmless, in
explanation of the mysteries of the Incarnation. For we cannot
fail to see a connection between his opinions and theirs; and it might
seem that, confident in his wider knowledge, he has borrowed not only
from the arguments used by Tertullian against the Monarchian Praxeas,
but also from those which Tertullian assigns to the latter. Such
reasonings, we know, had been very prevalent in the West; and
Hilary’s use of certain of them, in order to turn their edge by
showing that they were not inconsistent with the fundamental doctrines
of the Faith228
228 He often and
emphatically repudiates the use which the Monarchians made of them,
e.g. Trin. iv. 4. | , may indicate
that Monarchianism was still a real danger.
Thus the Son becomes flesh, and that by true maternity
on the Virgin’s part. But man is more than flesh; he is
soul as well, and it is the soul which makes him man instead of
matter. The soul, as we saw, is created by a special act of God
at the beginning of the separate existence of each human being; and
Christ, to be true man and not merely true flesh, created for Himself
the human soul which was necessary for true humanity. He had
borrowed from the Apollinarians, consciously no doubt, their
interpretation of one of their favourite passages, ‘The Word
became flesh’; here again we find an argument of heretics
rendered harmless and adopted by orthodoxy. For the strange
Apollinarian denial to Christ
of a human soul, and therefore of perfect manhood, is not only
expressly contradicted229
229 E.g.
Trin. x. 22 in. The human soul is clearly
intended. Schwane, ii. 268, justly praises Hilary for greater
accuracy than his contemporaries in laying stress upon each of the
constituent elements of Christ’s humanity, and especially upon
the soul; in this respect following Tertullian and Origen. | , but repudiated on
every page by the contrary assumption on which all Hilary’s
arguments are based. Christ, then, is ‘perfect man230
230 In Trin.
x. 21 f. is an argument analogous to that of the De Synodis
concerning the Godhead. Christ is Man because He is perfectly
like man, just as in the Homœusian argument He is God because He
is perfectly like God. | , of a reasonable soul and Human flesh
subsisting,’ for Whom the Virgin has performed the normal
functions of maternity. But there is one wide and obvious
difference between Hilary’s mode of handling the matter and that
with which we are familiar. His view concerning the
mother’s office forbids his laying stress upon our Lord’s
inheritance from her. Occasionally, and without emphasis, he
mentions our Lord as the Son of David, or otherwise introduces His
human ancestry231
231 E.g. Comm.
in Matt. i.; Tr. in Ps. lxviii. 19. | , but he never
dwells upon the subject. He neither bases upon this ancestry the
truth, nor deduces from it the character, of Christ’s
humanity. Such is Hilary’s account of the facts of the
Incarnation. In his teaching there is no doubt error as well as
defect, but only in the mode of explanation, not in the doctrine
explained. It will help us to do him justice if we may compare
the theories that have been framed concerning another great doctrine,
that of the Atonement, and remember that the strangely diverse
speculations of Gregory the Great and of St. Anselm profess to account
for the same facts, and that, so far as definitions of the Church are
concerned, we are free to accept one or other, or neither, of the rival
explanations.
Christ, then, Who had been perfect God from
eternity, became perfect Man by His self-wrought act of creation.
Thus there was an approximation between God and man; man was raised by
God, Who humbled Himself to meet Him. On the one hand the Virgin
was sanctified in preparation for her sacred motherhood232 ; on the other hand there was a
condescension of the Son to our low estate. The key to this is
found by Hilary in the language of St. Paul. Christ emptied
Himself of the form of God and took the form of a servant; this is a
revelation as decisive as the same Apostle’s words concerning the
first and the second Adam. The form of God, wherein the Son is to
the Father as the exact image reflected in a mirror, the exact
impression taken from a seal, belongs to Christ’s very
being. He could not detach it from Himself, if He would, for it
is the property of God to be eternally what He is; and, as Hilary
constantly reminds us, the continuous existence of creation is evidence
that there had been no break in the Son’s divine activity in
maintaining the universe which He had made. While He was in the
cradle He upheld the worlds233
233 Ib. viii.
45, 47, ix. 14, &c. | . Yet, in
some real sense, Christ emptied Himself of this form of God234
234 This
‘evacuation’ or ‘exinanition’ is represented in
Tr. in Ps. lxviii. 4 by the more precise metaphor of a vessel
drained of its liquid contents. | . It was necessary that He should do
so if manhood, even the sinless manhood created by Himself for His own
Incarnation, was to co-exist with Godhead in His one Person235
235 Hilary has devoted
his Homily on Psalm lxviii. to this subject. In § 25 he
asks, ‘How could He exist in the form of man while remaining in
the form of God?’ There are many equally emphatic
statements throughout his writings. | . This is stated as distinctly as is
the correlative fact that He retained and exercised the powers and the
majesty of His nature. Thus it is clear that, outside the sphere
of His work for men, the form and the nature of God remained unchanged
in the Son; while within that sphere the form, though not the nature,
was so affected that it could truly be said to be laid aside. But
when we come to Hilary’s explanation of this process, we can only
acquit him of inconsistency in thought by admitting the ambiguity of
his language. In one group of passages he recognises the
self-emptying, but minimises its importance; in another he denies that
our Lord could or did empty Himself of the form of God. And
again, his definitions of the word ‘form’ are so various as
to be actually contradictory. Yet a consistent
sense, and one exceedingly
characteristic of Hilary, can be derived from a comparison of his
statements236
236 Baltzer and Schwane
have been followed in this matter, in opposition to Dorner. | ; and in judging
him we must remember that we have no systematic exposition of his
views, but must gather them not only from his deliberate reasonings,
but sometimes from homiletical amplifications of Scripture language,
composed for edification and without the thought of theological
balance, and sometimes from incidental sayings, thrown out in the
course of other lines of argument. To the minimising statements
belongs his description of the evacuation as a ‘change of
apparel237
237 Trin. ix.
38, habitus demutatio, and similarly ib.
14. | ,’ and his definition of the word
‘form’ as meaning no more than ‘face’ or
‘appearance238
238 Tr. in Ps.
lxviii. 25. | ,’as also
his insistence from time to time upon the permanence of this form in
Christ, not merely in His supramundane relations, but as the Son of
Man239 . On the other hand Hilary expressly
declares that the ‘concurrence of the two forms240
240 Trin. ix. 14,
concursus utriusque formæ. | ’ is impossible, they being mutually
exclusive. This represents the higher form, that of God, as
something more than a dress or appearance which could be changed or
masked; and stronger still is the language used in the Homily on Psalm
xviii. There (§ 4) he speaks of Christ being exhausted of
His heavenly nature, this being used as a synonym for the form of God,
and even of His being emptied of His substance. But it is
probable that the Homily has descended to us, without revision by its
author, in the very words which the shorthand writer took down.
This mention of ‘substance’ is unlike Hilary’s usual
language, and the antithesis between the substance which the Son had
not, because He had emptied Himself of it, and the substance which He
had, because He had assumed it, is somewhat infelicitously
expressed. The term must certainly not be taken as the deliberate
statement of Hilary’s final opinion, still less as the decisive
passage to which his other assertions must be accommodated; but it is
at least clear evidence that Hilary, in the maturity of his thought,
was not afraid to state in the strongest possible language the reality
and completeness of the evacuation. The reconciliation of these
apparently contradictory views concerning Christ’s relation to
the form of God can only be found in Hilary’s idea of the
Incarnation as a ‘dispensation,’ or series of
dispensations. The word and the thought are borrowed through
Tertullian241
241 It is very
characteristic that it lies outside Cyprian’s vocabulary and
range of ideas. | from the Greek
‘economy’; but in Hilary’s mind the notion of Divine
reserve has grown till it has become, we might almost say, the dominant
element of the conception. This self-emptying is a
dispensation242
242 Trin. ix. 38
in., and especially ib. 39. The unity of glory
departed through His obedience in the Dispensation. | , whereby the
incarnate Son of God appears to be, what He is not, destitute of the
form of God. For this form is the glory of God, concealed by our
Lord for the purposes of His human life, yet held by Hilary, to a
greater extent, perhaps, than by any other theologian, to have been
present with Him on earth. In words which have a wider
application, and must be considered hereafter, Hilary speaks of Christ
as ‘emptying Himself and hiding Himself within Himself243
243 Trin. xi. 48;
cf. the end of this section and xii. 6. | .’ Concealment has a great
part to play in Hilary’s theories, and is in this instance the
only explanation consistent with his doctrinal position244
244 Cf. Baltzer,
Christologie, p. 10 f., Schwane, p. 272 f. Other
explanations which have been suggested are quite inadmissible.
Dorner, p. 407, takes the passage cited above about
‘substance’ too seriously, and wavers between the equally
impossible interpretations of ‘countenance’ and
‘personality.’ Förster (l.c. p. 659) understands
the word to mean ‘mode of existence.’
Wirthmüller, cited by Schwane, p. 273, has the courage to regard
‘form of God’ and ‘form of a servant’ as
equivalent to Divinity and humanity. | .
Thus the Son made possible the union of humanity
with Himself. He ‘shrank from God into man245
245 Trin. xii. 6,
decedere ex Deo in hominem. Perhaps it should be
decidere, as in Tr. in Ps. lxviii. 4. | ’ by an act not only of Divine power,
but of personal Divine will. He Who did this thing could not
cease to be what He had been before; hence His very deed in submitting
Himself to the change is evidence of His unchanged continuity of
existence246
246 Tr. in Ps.
lxviii. 25. | .
And furthermore, His
assumption of the servant’s form was not accomplished by a single
act. His wearing of that form was one continuous act of voluntary
self-repression247
247 Trin. xi. 48,
‘emptying Himself’ might have been a single act;
‘hiding Himself within Himself’ was a sustained course of
conduct. | , and the events
of His life on earth bear frequent witness to His possession of the
powers of God.
Thus in Him God is united with man; these two
natures form the ‘elements’ or ‘parts’ of one
Person248
248 Genus is
fairly common, though much rarer than natura; pars
occurs in Trin. xi. 14, 15, and cf. ib.
40. Elementa is, I think, somewhat more
frequent. | . The Godhead is superposed upon
the manhood; or, as Hilary prefers to say, the manhood is assumed by
Christ249
249 Trin. xi. 40,
naturæ assumpti corporis nostri natura paternæ divinitatis
invecta. Conversely, Trin. ix. 54,
nova natura in Deum illata. But such expressions are rare;
hominem ad sumpsit is the normal phrase. In Tr.
in Ps. lxviii. 4, he speaks as if the two natures had been forced
to coalesce by a Power higher than either. But, as we have seen,
in this part of the Homily Hilary’s language is destitute of
theological exactness. | . And these two natures are not
confused250 , but simultaneously
coexist in Him as the Son of Man251
251 E.g. Trin.
ix. 11, 39, x. 16. The expression utriusque,
naturæ persona in Trin. ix. 14 is susceptible of
another interpretation. | . There
are not two Christs252 , nor is the one
Christ a composite Being in such a sense that He is intermediate in
kind between God and Man. He can speak as God and can also speak
as Man; in the Homilies on the Psalms Hilary constantly
distinguishes between His utterances in the one and the other
nature. Yet He is one Person with two natures, of which the one
dominates, though it does not extinguish, the other in every relation
of His existence as the Son of Man253
253 Trin. x. 22,
quia totus hominis filius totus Dei filius sit. | . Every
act, bodily or mental, done by Him is done by both natures of the one
Christ. Hence a certain indifference towards the human aspects of
His life, and a tendency rather to explain away what seems humiliation
than to draw out its lessons254
254 Cf. Gore’s
Dissertations, p. 138 f. But Hilary, though he shares and
even exaggerates the general tendency of his time, has also a strong
sense of the danger of Apollinarianism. | .
And Hilary is so impressed with the unity of Christ that
the humanity, a notion for which he has no name255
255 Homo assumptus
is constantly used, and similarly homo noster for our
manhood, e.g. Trin. ix. 7. This often leads to an
awkwardness of which Hilary must have been fully conscious, though he
regarded it as a less evil than the use of an abstract term. | ,
would have been in his eyes nothing more than a collective term for
certain attributes of One Who is more than man, just as the body of
Christ is not for him a dwelling occupied, or an instrument used, by
God, but an inseparable property of Christ, Who personally is God and
Man.
Hence the body of Christ has a character peculiar
to itself. It is a heavenly body256
256 Corpus
cœleste, x. 18. | ,
because of its origin and because of its Owner, the Son of Man Who came
down from heaven, and though on earth was in heaven still257 . It performs the functions and
experiences, the limitations of a human body, and this is evidence that
it is in every sense a true, not an alien or fictitious body.
Though it is free from the sins of humanity, it has our
weaknesses. But here the distinction must be made, which will
presently be discussed, between the two kinds of suffering, that which
feels and that which only endures. Christ was not conscious of
suffering from these weaknesses, which could inflict no sense of want
of weariness or pain upon His body, a body not the less real because it
was perfect. He took our infirmities as truly as He bore our
sins. But He was no more under the dominion of the one than of
the other258
258 Trin.
x. 47 f.; Tr. in Ps. cxxxviii. 3. | . His body
was in the likeness of ours, but its reality did not consist in the
likeness259 , but in the fact
that He had created it a true body. Christ, by virtue of His
creative power, might have made for Himself a true body, by means of
which to fulfil God’s purposes, that should have been free from
these infirmities. It was for our sake that He did not.
There would have been a true body, but it would have been difficult for
us to believe it. Hence He assumed one which had for
habits what are
necessities to us, in order to demonstrate to us its reality260
260 Trin. x.
24. The purpose of the Old Testament Theophanies, it will be
remembered, was the same. God appeared as man, in order to make
men familiar with the future reality and so more ready to
believe. See Trin. v. 17. | . It was foreordained that He should be
incarnate; the mode of the Incarnation was determined by considerations
of our advantage. The arguments by which this thesis is supported
will be stated presently, in connection with Hilary’s account of
the Passion. It would be difficult to decide whether he has
constructed his theory concerning the human activities of our Lord upon
the basis of this preponderance of the Divine nature in His incarnate
personality, or whether he has argued back from what he deems the true
account of Christ’s mode of life on earth, and invented the
hypothesis in explanation of it. In any case he has had the
courage exactly to reverse the general belief of Christendom regarding
the powers normally used by Christ. We are accustomed to think
that with rare exceptions, such as the Transfiguration, He lived a life
limited by the ordinary conditions of humanity, to draw lessons for
ourselves from His bearing in circumstances like our own, to estimate
His condescension and suffering, in kind if not in degree, by our own
consciousness. Hilary regards the normal state of the incarnate
Christ as that of exaltation, from which He stooped on rare occasions,
by a special act of will, to self-humiliation. Thus the
Incarnation, though itself a declension from the pristine glory, does
not account for the facts of Christ’s life; they must be
explained by further isolated and temporary declensions. And
since the Incarnation is the one great event, knowledge and faith
concerning which are essential, the events which accompany or result
from it tend, in Hilary’s thought, to shrink in importance.
They can and must be minimised, explained away, regarded as
‘dispensations,’ if they seem to derogate from the Majesty
of Him Who was incarnate.
When we examine the interpretation of Scripture by
which Hilary reaches the desired conclusions we find it, in many
instances, strange indeed. The letter of the Gospels tells us of
bodily needs and of suffering; Christ, though more than man, is proved
to be Man by His obvious submission to the conditions of human
life. But according to Hilary all human suffering is due to the
union of an imperfect soul with an imperfect body. The soul of
Christ, though truly human, was perfect; His body was that of a Person
Divine as well as human. Thus both elements were perfect of their
kind, and therefore as free from infirmity261 as
from sin, for affliction is the lot of man not because he is man, but
because he is a sinner. In contrast with the squalor of sinful
humanity, glory surrounded Christ from the Annunciation onward
throughout His course on earth262
262 Trin.
ii. 26 f., iii. 18 f. and often, especially in the Comm. in
Matt. | . Miracle is
the attestation of His Godhead, and He who was thus superior to the
powers of nature could not be subject to the sufferings which nature
inflicts. But, being omnipotent, He could subject Himself to
humiliations which no power less than His own could lay upon Him, and
this self-subjection is the supreme evidence of His might as well of
His goodwill towards men. God, and only God, could occupy at once
the cradle and the throne on high263
263 E.g.
Trin. ix. 4, xi. 48. | . Thus
in emphasizing the humiliation Hilary is extolling the majesty of
Christ, and refuting the errors of Arianism. That school had made
the most of Christ’s sufferings, holding them as proof of His
inferiority to the Father. In Hilary’s eyes His power to
condescend and His final victory are equally conclusive evidences of
His co-equal Divinity. But if He stoops to our estate, and is at
the same time God exercising His full prerogatives, here again there
must be a ‘dispensation.’ He was truly subject to the
limitations of our nature; that is a fact of revelation. But He
was subject by a succession of detached acts of self-restraint,
culminating in the act, voluntary like the others, of His
death264 . Of His acceptance of the
ordinary infirmities of humanity we have already spoken. Hilary
gives the same explanation of the Passion as he does of the thirst or
weariness of Christ.
That He could suffer, and that to the utmost, is proved by the fact
that He did suffer; yet was He, or could He be, conscious of
suffering? For the fulfilment of the Divine purpose, for our
assurance of the reality of His work, the acts had to be done; but it
was sufficient that they should be done by a dispensation, in other
words, that the events should be real and yet the feelings be absent of
which, had the events happened to us, we should have been
conscious. To understand this we must recur to Hilary’s
theory of the relation of the soul to the body. The former is the
organ of sense, the latter a lifeless thing. But the soul may
fall below, or rise above, its normal state. Mortification of the
body may set in, or drugs be administered which shall render the soul
incapable of feeling the keenest pain265 . On the
other hand it is capable of a spiritual elevation which shall make it
unconscious of bodily needs or sufferings, as when Moses and Elijah
fasted, or the three Jewish youths walked amid the flames266
266 Comm. in
Matt. iii. 2; Trin. x. 45. The freedom of
Christian martyrs from pain is frequently noticed in early
writers. | . On this high level Christ always
dwelt. Others might rise for a moment above themselves; He, not
although, but because He was true and perfect Man, never fell below
it. He placed Himself in circumstances where shame and wounds and
death were inflicted upon Him; He had lived a life of humiliation, not
only real, in that it involved a certain separation from God, but also
apparent. But as in this latter respect we may no more overlook
His glory than we may suppose Him ignorant, as by a dispensation He
professed to be267 , so in regard to
the Passion we must not imagine that He was inferior to His saints in
being conscious, as they were not, of suffering268
268 Hilary was
undoubtedly influenced more than he knew by the Latin words pati
and dolere, the one purely objective, the other
subjective. By a line of thought which recalls that of Mozley
concerning Miracles he refuses to argue from our experience to that of
Christ. That He suffered, in the sense of having wounds and death
inflicted upon Him, is a fact; that He was conscious of suffering is an
inference, a supposition (putatur dolere quia patitur, Tr. in
Ps. cxxxviii. 3, fallitur ergo humanæ æstimationis
opinio putans hunc dolere quod patitur, Trin. x. 47),
and one which we are not entitled to make. In fact, the passage
last cited states that He has no natura dolendi; so also x. 23,
35, and cf. Tr. in Ps. liii. 12. Or as Hilary puts it,
Trin. x. 24, He is subject to the naturæ passionum
not to their iniuriæ. | . So far, indeed, is He from the
sense of suffering that Hilary even says that the Passion was a delight
to Him269
269 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxviii. 26. | , and this not merely in its prospective
results, but in the consciousness of power which He enjoyed in passing
through it. Nor could this be surprising to one who looked with
Hilary’s eyes upon the humanity of Christ. He enforces his
view sometimes with rhetoric, as when he repudiates the notion that the
Bread of Life could hunger, and He who gives the living water,
thirst270 , that the hand which restored the
servant’s ear could itself feel pain271 ,
that He Who said, ‘Now is the Son of Man glorified,’ when
Judas left the chamber, could at that moment be feeling sorrow272 , and He before Whom the soldiers fell be
capable of fear273 , or shrink from
the pain of a death which was itself an exertion of His own free will
and power274 . Or else he
dwells upon the general character of Christ’s manhood. He
recognises no change in the mode of being after the Resurrection; the
passing through closed doors, the sudden disappearance at Emmaus are
typical of the normal properties of His body, which could heal the sick
by a touch, and could walk upon the waves275
275 Ib. 23.
These instances of His power are used as a direct proof of
Christ’s incapacity of pain. Hilary is willing to confess
that He could feel it, if it be shewn that we can follow Him in these
respects. | . It is a body upon the sensibility
of which the forces of nature can make no impression whatever; they can
no more pain Him than the stroke of a weapon can affect air or
water276 ; or, as Hilary puts it elsewhere, fear
and death, which have so painful a meaning to us, were no more to Him
than a shower falling upon a surface which it cannot penetrate277 . It is not the passages of the
Gospel which tell of Christ’s glory, but those which speak of
weakness or suffering that need to be explained; and Hilary on occasion
is not afraid to explain them away. For instance, we read that
when our Lord had fasted forty days and forty nights ‘He was
afterward an hungred.’ Hilary denies that there is a
connection of cause and effect. Christ’s perfect body was
unaffected by
abstinence; but after the fast by an exertion of His will He
experienced hunger278
278 Comm. in
Matt. iii. 2. | . So also
the Agony in the Garden is ingeniously misinterpreted. He took
with Him the three Apostles, and then began to be sorrowful. He
was not sorrowful till He had taken them; they, not He, were the
cause. When He said, ‘My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even
unto death,’ the last words must not be regarded as meaning that
His was a mortal sorrow, but as giving a note of time. The sorrow
of which He spoke was not for Himself but for His Apostles, whose
flight He foresaw, and He was asserting that this sorrow would last
till He died. And when He prayed that the cup might pass away
from Him, this was no entreaty that He might be spared. It was
His purpose to drink it. The prayer was for His disciples that
the cup might pass on from Him to them; that they might suffer for Him
as martyrs full of hope, without pain or fear279
279 Ib.
xxxi. 1–7. These were not immature speculations, abandoned
by a riper judgment. The explanation of ‘even unto
death’ is repeated, and that concerning the cup implied, in
Trin. x. 36, 37. | . One passage, St.
Luke xxii. 43, 44, which conflicts with his view is
rejected by Hilary on textual grounds, and not without some
reason280
280 Trin. x.
41. Westcott and Hort insert it within brackets. Even if
the passage be retained, Hilary has an explanation which agrees with
his theory. | . He had looked for it, and found it
absent, in a large number of manuscripts, both Greek and Latin.
But perhaps the strangest argument which he employs is that when the
Gospel tells us that Christ thirsted and hungered and wept, it does not
proceed to say that He ate and drank and felt grief281 . Hunger and thirst, eating and
drinking, were two sets of dispensations, unconnected by the relation
of cause and effect; the tears were another dispensation, not the
expression of personal grief. If, as a habit, He accepts the
needs and functions of our body, this does not render His own body more
real, for by the act of its creation it was made truly human; His
purpose, as has been said, is to enable us to recognise its reality,
which would otherwise be difficult282
282 loc. cit., Tr.
in Ps. liii. 7. | . If
He wept, He had the same object; this use of one of the evidences of
bodily emotion would help us to believe283
283 In Tr. in
Ps. liii. 7, there is also the moral purpose. He prays
humbly. His prayer expresses no need of His own, but is meant to
teach us the lesson of meekness. | . And so it is throughout
Christ’s life on earth. He suffered but He did not
feel. No one but a heretic, says Hilary, would suppose that He
was pained by the nails which fixed Him to the Cross284
284 Trin.
x. 45. Yet Hilary himself is not always consistent. In the
purely homiletical writing of Tr. in Ps. lxviii. 1, he dwells
upon Christ’s endurance of pain. His argument obliged Him
to emphasize the suffering; it was natural, though not logical, that he
should sometimes insist also upon the feeling. | .
It is obvious that Hilary’s theory offers a
perfect defence against the two dangers of the day, Arianism and
Apollinarianism. The tables are turned upon the former by
emphatic insistence upon the power manifested in the humiliation and
suffering of Christ. That He, being what He was, should be able
to place Himself in such circumstances was the most impressive evidence
of His Divinity. And if His humanity was endowed with Divine
properties, much more must His Divinity rise above that inferiority to
which the Arians consigned it. Apollinarianism is controverted by
the demonstration of His true humanity. No language can be too
strong to describe its glories; but the true wonder is not that Christ,
as God, has such attributes, but that He Who has them is very
Man. The theory was well adapted for service in the controversies
of the day; for us, however we may admire the courage and ingenuity it
displays, it can be no more than a curiosity of doctrinal
history. Yet, whatever its defects as an explanation of the
facts, the skill with which dangers on either hand are avoided, the
manifest anxiety to be loyal to established doctrine, deserve
recognition and respect. It has been said that Hilary
‘constantly withdraws in the second clause what he has asserted
in the first285
285 Harnack,
Dogmengesch. ii. 301 n. | ,’ and in a
sense it is true. For many of his statements might make him seem
the advocate of an extreme doctrine of Kenosis, which would
represent our Lord’s self-emptying as complete. But often expressed and
always present in Hilary’s thought, for the coherence of which it
is necessary, is the correlative notion of the dispensation, whereby
Christ seemed for our sake to be less than He truly was. Again,
Hilary has been accused of ‘sailing somewhat close to the cliffs
of Docetism286
286 The words are
Förster’s, op. cit. p. 662, and are accepted as
representing their opinion by Bardenhewer, Patrologie, p. 382,
and Baltzer, Christologie, p. 32. | ,’ but all
admit that he has escaped shipwreck. Various accounts of his
teaching, all of which agree in acquitting him of this error, have been
given; and that which has been accepted in this paper, of Christ by the
very perfection of His humanity habitually living in such an ecstasy as
that of Polycarp or Perpetua at their martyrdom, is a noble conception
in itself and consistent with the Creeds, though it cannot satisfy
us. In part, at any rate, it belonged to the lessons which Hilary
had learned from Alexandria. Clement had taught, though his
successor Origen rejected, the impassability of Christ, Who had eaten
and drunk only by a ‘dispensation’;—‘He ate not
for the sake of His body, which was sustained by a holy power, but that
that false notion might not creep into the minds of His companions
which in later days some have, in fact, conceived, that He had been
manifested only in appearance. He was altogether impassible;
there entered from without into Him no movement of the feelings,
whether pleasure , or pain287
287
Strom. vi. § 71. Bigg, Christian
Platonists, p. 71, gives other sources, by which Hilary is less
likely to have been influenced, from which he may have derived this
teaching. This is not the only coincidence between him and
Clement. | .’
Thus Hilary had what would be in his eyes high authority for his
opinion. But he must have felt some doubts of its value if he
compared the strange exegesis and forced logic by which it was
supported with that frank acceptance of the obvious sense of Scripture
in which he takes so reasonable a pride in His direct controversy with
the Arians. And another criticism may be ventured. In that
controversy he balances with scrupulous reverence mystery against
mystery, never forgetting that he is dealing with infinities. In
this case the one is made to overwhelm the other; the infinite glory
excludes the infinite sorrow from his view. Here, if anywhere,
Hilary needs, and may justly claim, the indulgence he has
demanded. It had not been his wish to define or explain; he was
content with the plain words of Scripture and the simplest of
creeds. But he was compelled by the fault of others to commit a
fault288
288 Trin. ii.
2,in vitium vitio coarctamur alieno. | ; and speculation based on sound
principles, however perilous to him who made the first attempt, had
been rendered by the prevalence of heresy a necessary evil.
Again, we must bear in mind that Hilary was essentially a Greek
theologian, to whom the supremely interesting as well as the supremely
important doctrine was that God became Man. He does not conceal
or undervalue the fact of the Atonement and of the Passion as the means
by which it was wrought. But, even though he had not held his
peculiar theory of impassibility, he would still have thought the
effort most worth making not that of realising the pains of Christ by
our experience of suffering and sense of the enormity of sin, but that
of apprehending the mystery of the Incarnation. For that act of
condescension was greater, not only in scale but in kind, than any
humiliation to which Christ, already Man, submitted Himself in His
human state.
Christ, Whose properties as incarnate are thus
described by Hilary, is one Person. This, of course, needs no
proof, but something must be said of the use which he makes of the
doctrine. It is by Christ’s own work, by an act of power,
even of violence289
289 Tr. in
Ps.lxviii. 4. The unity is also strongly put in
Trin. viii. 13, x. 61. | , exercised by
Him upon Himself, that the two natures are inseparably associated in
Him; so inseparably that between His death and resurrection His
Divinity was simultaneously present with each of the severed elements
of His humanity290
290 Trin. x.
34. This was Hilary’s deliberate belief. But in
earlier life he had written rashly of the Holy Spirit (i.e. God the
Son) surrendering His humanity to be tempted, and of the cry upon the
Cross ‘testifying the departure of God the Word from Him’
(Comm. in Matt. iii. 1, xxxiii. 6). This, if it had
represented Hilary’s teaching in that treatise would have proved
it heretical; but the whole tenour of the commentary proves that this
was simply carelessness. In the Homilies on the Psalms he also
writes somewhat loosely on occasion; e.g. liii. 4
fin., where he mentions Christ’s former
nature, i.e. the Divinity, and ib. 5, where he speaks of
‘Him Who after being God (ex Deo) had died
as man.’ But only malevolence could give an evil
interpretation to these passages, delivered as they were for the
edification of Hilary’s flock, and with no thought of theological
accuracy. It is, indeed, quite possible that they were never
revised, or even intended, for publication by him. | . Hence, though
Hilary frequently discriminates between Christ’s
utterances as God and as Man291
291 E.g.
Trin. ix. 6, and often in the Homilies on the Psalms, as
cxxxviii. 13. | , he never fails to
keep his reader’s attention fixed upon the unity of His
Person. And this unity is the more obvious because, as has been
said, the Manhood in Christ is dominated by the Godhead. Though
we are not allowed to forget that He is truly Man, yet as a rule Hilary
prefers to speak in such words as, ‘the only-begotten Son of God
was crucified292 ,’ or to say
more briefly, ‘God was crucified293 .’ Judas is
‘the betrayer of God294
294 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxix. 15. | ;’ ‘the
life of mortals is renewed through the death of immortal God295
295 Trin. x.
63. Similarly in Tr. in Ps. lxvii. 2l, he speaks of
‘the passion, the cross, the death, the burial of
God.’ | .’ Such expressions are far more
frequent than the balanced language, ‘the Passion of Jesus
Christ, our God and Lord296
296 Trin. in Ps.
liii. 4. | ,’ and these
again than such an exaltation of the manhood as ‘the Man Jesus
Christ, the Lord of Majesty297 .’ But
once, in an unguarded moment, an element of His humanity seems to be
deified. Hilary never says that Christ’s body is God, but
he speaks of the spectators of the Crucifixion ‘contemplating the
power of the soul which by signs and deeds had proved itself
God298
298 Tr. in Ps.
cxli. 4. There is no evidence that the text is corrupt, though
the words as they stand are rank Apollinarianism, and the more
significant as dating from the maturity of Hilary’s
thought. But here, as often, we must remember that the Homilies
are familiar addresses. | .’
But though distinctions may be drawn, and though
for the sake of emphasis and brevity Christ may be called by the name
of one only of His two natures, the essential fact is never forgotten
that He is God and man, one Person in two forms, God’s and the
servant’s. And these two natures do not stand isolated and
apart, merely contained within the limits of one personality.
Just as we saw that Hilary recognises a complete mutual indwelling and
interpenetration of Father and Son, so he teaches that in the narrower
sphere of the Incarnation there is an equally exact and comprehensive
union of the Godhead and Manhood in Christ. Jesus is Christ, and
Christ is Jesus299
299 Trin. x.
52. We must remember not only that heretical distinctions had
been made, but that Christ is the name of the Son in pretemporal
relation to the world (see p. lxvii.), as well as in the world. | . Not merely
is the one Christ perfect Man and perfect God, but the whole Son of Man
is the whole Son of God300 . So far is His
manhood from being merged and lost in His Divinity, that the extent of
the one is the measure of the other. We must not imagine that,
simultaneously with the incarnate, there existed a non-incarnate
Christ, respectively submitting to humiliation and ruling the worlds;
nor yet must we conceive of one Christ in two unconnected states of
being, as though the assumption of humanity were merely a function
analogous to the guiding of the stars. On the contrary, the one
Person is co-extensive with all infinity, and all action lies within
His scope. Whatever He does, whether it be, or be not, in
relation to humanity, and in the former case whether it be the
exaltation of man-hood or the self-emptying of Godhead, is done
‘within the sphere of the Incarnation301
301 Cf. Gore,
Dissertations, p. 211. It is in relation to the
self-emptying that Hilary uses such definite language:
Trin. xi. 48, intra suam ipse vacuefactus
potestatem.…Se ipsum intra se vacuefaciens continuit; xii. 6,
se evacuavit in sese. | ,’ the sphere which embraces His whole
being and His whole action. The self-emptying itself was not a
self-determination, instant and complete, made before the Incarnation,
but, as we saw, a process which continued throughout Christ’s
life on earth and was active to the end. For as He hung,
deliberately self-emptied of His glory, on the Cross, He manifested His
normal powers by the earthquake shock. His submission to death
was the last of a consistent series of exertions of His will, which
began with the Annunciation and culminated in the
Crucifixion.
Hilary
estimates the cost of the Incarnation not by any episodes of
Christ’s life on earth, but by the fact that it brought about a
real, though partial, separation or breach302
302 Offensio, Trin.
ix. 38. |
within the Godhead. Henceforward there was in Christ the nature
of the creature as well as that of the Creator; and this second nature,
though it had been assumed in its most perfect form, was sundered by an
infinite distance from God the Father, though indissolubly united with
the Divinity of his Son. A barrier therefore was raised between
them, to be overcome in due time by the elevation of manhood in and
through the Son. When this elevation was complete within the
Person of Christ, then the separation between Him and His Father would
be at an end. He would still have true humanity, but this
humanity would be raised to the level of association with the
Father. In Hilary’s doctrine the submission of Christ to
this isolation is the central fact of Christianity, the supreme
evidence of His love for men. Not only did it thus isolate Him,
truly though partially, from the Father, but it introduced a strain, a
‘division’303
303 Trin. x. 22,
A se dividuus. | within His now
incarnate Person. The union of natures was real, but in order
that it might become perfect the two needed to be adjusted; and the
humiliation involved in this adjustment is a great part of the
sacrifice made by Christ. There was conflict, in a certain sense,
within Himself, repression and concealment of His powers. But
finally the barrier was to be removed, the loss regained, by the
exaltation of the manhood into harmonious association with the Godhead
of Father and of Son304 . Then He Who
had become in one Person God and Man would become for ever fully God
and fully Man. The humanity would gain, the Divinity regain, its
appropriate dignity305
305 Trin. ix.
6. On earth Christ is Deus and homo; in glory He is
totus Deus and totus homo. | , while each retained
the reality it had had on earth.
Thus Christ’s life in the world was a period
of transition. He had descended; this was the time of preparation for
an equal, and even loftier, ascent. We must now consider in what
the preparation consisted; and here, at first sight, Hilary has
involved himself in a grave difficulty. For it is manifest that
his theory of Christ’s life as one lived without effort,
spiritual or physical, or rather as a life whose exertion consisted in
a steady self accommodation to the infirmities of men, varied by
occasional and special acts of condescension to suffering, excludes the
possibility of an advance, a growth in grace as well as in stature,
such as Athanasius scripturally taught306
306 E.g.
Discourses against the Arians, iii. 53, p. 422 of the
translation in this series. | . We might say of Hilary, as has been
said of another Father, ‘under his treatment the Divine history
seems to be dissolved into a docetic drama307
307 Bp. Westcott on Cyril
of Alexandria in St. John’s Gospel (Speaker’s Commentary),
p. xcv. | .’ In such a life it might seem
that there was not merely no possibility of progress, but even an
absence of identity, in the sense of continuity. The phenomena of
Christ’s life, therefore, are not manifestations of the
disturbance and strain on which Hilary insists, for they are, when,
rightly considered, proofs of His union with God and of His Divine
power, not of weakness or of partial separation. It would,
indeed, be vain for us to seek for sensible evidence of the process of
adjustment, for it went on within the inmost being of the one
Person. It did not affect the Godhead or the Manhood, both
visibly revealed as aspects of the Person, but the hidden relation
between the two. Our knowledge assures us that the process took
place, but it is a knowledge attained by inference from what He was
before and after the state of transition, not by observation of His
action in that state. Both natures of the one Person were
affected; ‘everything’—glory as well as
humiliation—‘was common to the entire Person at every
moment, though to each aspect in its own distinctive
manner.’ The entire Person entered into inequality with
Himself; the actuality of each aspect, during the state of humiliation,
fell short of its idea—of the idea of the Son, of the idea of the
perfect man, of the idea of the God-man. It was
not merely the human aspect
that was at first inadequate to the Divine; for, through the medium of
the voluntary ‘evacuatio,’ it dragged down the Divine
nature also, so far as is permitted it, to its own inequality308
308 Dorner, I. ii.
415. The liberty has been taken of putting ‘Himself’
for ‘itself.’ On the same page Dorner speaks of
‘ever increasing return of the Logos into equality with
Himself.’ This is a contradiction of his own
explanation. God has become God-man. He could not again
become simply the Logos. The key to Hilary’s position is
the double nature of Christ. The Godhead and the Manhood are
aspects in revelation, abstractions in argument. That which
connects them and gives them reality is the one Person, the object of
thought and faith. | .’ Such is the only
explanation which will reconcile Hilary’s various, and sometimes
obscure, utterances on this great subject. It is open to the
obvious and fatal objection that it cuts, instead of loosening, the
knot. For it denies any connection between the dispensation of
Christ’s life on earth and the mystery of His assumption and
exaltation of humanity; the one becomes somewhat purposeless, and the
other remains unverified. But it is at least a bold and reverent
speculation, not inconsistent with the Faith as a system of thought,
though no place can be found for it in the Faith, regarded as a
revelation of fact.
It was on behalf of mankind that this great
sacrifice was made by the Son. While it separated Him from the
Father, it united Him to men. We must now consider what was the
spiritual constitution of the humanity which He assumed, as we have
already considered the physical Man, as we saw (p. lxix.) is
constituted of body and soul, an outward and an inward substance, the
one earthly, the other heavenly309
309 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., Iod, 6, cxxix. 5. | . The exact
process of his creation has been revealed. First, man—that
is, his soul—was made in the image of God; next, long afterwards,
his body was fashioned out of dust; finally by a distinct act, man was
made a living soul by the breath of God, the heavenly and earthly
natures being thus coupled together310 . The
world was already complete when God created the highest, the most
beautiful of His works after His own image. His other works were
made by an instantaneous command; even the firmament was established by
his hand311
311 Isai. xlv. 12, the Old Latin, translated from
the LXX., having the singular. This characteristic piece of
exegesis is in Tr. in Ps. cxviii., Iod, 5; cf. ib.
7, 8. | ; man alone was made
by the hands of God;—‘Thy hands have made me and fashioned
me.’ This singular honour of being made by a process, not
an act, and by the hands, not the hand or the voice, of God, was paid
to man not simply as the highest of the creatures, but as the one for
whose sake the rest of the universe was called into being312 . It is, of course, the soul, made
after the image of God, which has this high honour; an honour which no
length of sinful ancestry can forfeit, for each soul is still
separately created. Hence no human soul is akin to any other
human soul; the uniformity of type is secured by each being made in the
same pattern, and the dignity of humanity by the fact that this pattern
is that of the Son, the Image of God. But the soul pervades the
whole body with which it is associated, even as God pervades the
universe313
313 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., Koph, 8. | . The soul
of each man is individual, special to himself; his brotherhood with
mankind belongs to him through his body, which has therefore something
of universality. Hence the relation of mankind with Christ is not
through his human soul; it was ‘the nature of universal
flesh’ which He took314
314 Ib. li. 16,
naturam in se universæ carnis adsumpsit, ib. liv. 9,
universitatis nostræ caro est factus; so also
Trin. xi. 16 in., and often. | that has made Him
one with us in the Incarnation and in the Eucharist315
315 This latter is
the argument of Trin. viii. 13 f. | . The reality of His body, as we have
seen, is amply secured by Hilary; its universality is assured by the
absence of any individual human paternity, which would have isolated
Him from others316
316 Trin. ii. 24;
in Him there is the universi generis humani corpus because He is
homo factus ex virgine. | . Thus He
took all humanity into His one body; He is the Church317 , for He contains her through the mystery
of His body. In Him, by the same means, ‘there is contained
the congregation, so to speak, of the whole race of men.’
Hence He spoke of Himself as the City set on a hill; the inhabitants
are mankind318
318 Comm. in
Matt. iv. 12; habitatio, as is often the case in late Latin
with abstracts, is collective. Hilary also speaks of Christ as
gerens nos, Trin. x. 25, which recalls the
gestans of Tertullian and the portans of
Cyprian. | . But
Christ not only embraces all humanity in Himself, but the
archetype after Whom, and the final cause for Whom, man was made.
Every soul, when it proceeds from the hands of God, is pure, free and
immortal, with a natural affinity and capacity for good319
319 Tr. in Ps. ii.
16, lvii. 3, lxii. 3, and often. | , which can find its satisfaction only in
Christ, the ideal Man. But if Christ is thus everything to man,
humanity has also, in the foreordained purpose of God, something to
confer upon Christ. The temporary humiliation of the Incarnation
has for its result a higher glory than He possessed before320 , acquired through the harmony of the two
natures.
The course of this elevation is represented by
Hilary as a succession of births, in continuation of the majestic
series. First there had been the eternal generation of the Son;
then His creation for the ways and for the works of God, His
appointment, which Hilary regards as equivalent in importance to
another birth, to the office of Creator; next the Incarnation, the
birth in time which makes Him what He was not before, namely
Man321 . This is followed by the birth of
Baptism, of which Hilary speaks thrice322
322 Comm. in
Matt. ii. 6; Tr. in Ps. ii. 29; Trin. viii.
25. Yet he twice (Trin. vi. 23; Tr. in Ps.
cxxxviii. 6) gives the ordinary text, without any hint that he
knew of an important variant. | . He read in St. Matthew iii. 17, instead of the familiar words of
the Voice from heaven, ‘Thou art My Son, this day have I begotten
Thee.’ This was in his judgment the institution of the
sacrament of Baptism; because Christ was baptized, we must follow His
example. It was a new birth to Him, and therefore to us. He
had been the Son; He became through Baptism the perfect Son by this
fresh birth323
323 Tr. in
Ps. ii. 29, ipse Deo renascebatur in filium
perfectum. Trin. viii. 25, perfecta
nativitas. | . It is
difficult to see what Hilary’s thought was; perhaps he had not
defined it to himself. But, with this reading in his copy of the
Gospel, it was necessary that he should be ready with an explanation;
and though there remained a higher perfection to be reached, this birth
in Baptism might well be regarded as a stage in the return of Christ to
His glory, an elevation of His humanity to a more perfect congruity
with His Godhead. This birth is followed by another, the effect
and importance of which is more obvious, that of the Resurrection,
‘the birthday of His humanity to glory324
324 Dorner, I. ii.
417. Dorner overlooks the birth in Baptism. | .’ By the Incarnation He had
lost unity with the Father; but the created nature, by the assumption
of which He had disturbed the unity both within Himself and in relation
to the Father, is now raised to the level on which that unity is again
possible. In the Resurrection, therefore, it is restored; and
this stage of Christ’s achievement is regarded as a New
birth325
325 Tr. in Ps. ii.
27, liii. 14. | , by which His glory becomes, as it had
been before, the same as that of the Father. But now the glory is
shared by His humanity; the servant’s form is promoted to the
glory of God326 and the
discordance comes to an end. Christ, God and Man, stands where
the Word before the Incarnation stood. In this Resurrection, the
only step in this Divine work which is caused by sin, His full humanity
partakes. In order to satisfy all the conditions of actual human
life, He died and visited the lower world327 ;
and also, as man shall do, He rose again with the same body in which He
had died328 . Then
comes that final state, of which something has already been said, when
God shall be all in all. No further change will be possible
within the Person of Christ, for his humanity, already in harmony with
the Godhead, will now be transmuted. The whole Christ, Man as
well as God, will become wholly God. Yet the humanity will still
exist, for it is inseparable from the Divinity, and will consist, as
before, of body and soul. But there will be nothing earthly or
fleshly left in the body; its nature will be purely spiritual329 . The only form in which Hilary can
express this result is the seeming paradox that Christ will, by virtue
of the final subjection, ‘be and continue what He is not330
330 Ib. 40,
habens in sacramento subiectionis esse ac manere quod non
est. | .’ By this return of
the whole Christ into perfect
union with God, humanity attains the purpose of its creation. He
was the archetype after Whose likeness man was fashioned, and in His
Person all the possibilities of mankind are attained. And this
great consummation not only fulfils the destinies of humanity; it
brings also an augmentation of the glory of Him Who is glorified in
Christ331
331 Trin. xi. 42,
incrementum glorificati in eo Dei. | .
In the fact that humanity is thus elevated in
Christ consists the hope of individual men. Man in Him has, in a
true sense, become God332
332 E.g.
Trin. ix. 4, x. 7. | ; and though
Hilary as a rule avoids the phrase, familiar to him in the writings of
his Alexandrian teachers and freely used by Athanasius and other of his
contemporaries, that men become gods because God became Man, still the
thought which it coveys is constantly present to his mind. As we
have seen, men are created with such elevation as their final cause;
they have the innate certainty that their soul is of Divine origin and
a natural longing for the knowledge and hope of things eternal333
333 Trin. in
Ps.lxii. 3; cf. Comm. in Matt. xvi. 5. | . But they can only rise by a
process, corresponding to that by which the humanity in Christ was
raised to the level of the Divinity. This process begins with the
new birth in the one Baptism, and attains its completion when we fully
receive the nature and the knowledge of God. We are to be members
of Christ’s body and partakers in Him, saved into the name and
the nature of God334
334 Tr. in. Ps.
lvi. 7, liii. 5. We must remember the importance of names in
Hilary’s eyes. They are not arbitrary symbols, but belong
essentially to the objects which they signify. Had there been no
sin, from which man needed to be saved, he would still required raising
to his name and nature. | . And the
means to this is knowledge of Him, received into a pure mind335
335 Ib.
cxviii., Aleph, 1, cxxxi. 6. | . Such knowledge makes the soul of
man a dwelling rational, pure and eternal, wherein the Divine nature,
whose properties these are, may eternally abide336 . Only that which has reason can be
in union with Him Who is reason. Faith must be accurately
informed as well as sincere. Christ became Man in order that we
might believe Him; that He might be a witness to us from among
ourselves touching the things of God337 .
We have now followed Hilary through his great
theory, in which we may safely say that no other theologian entirely
agrees, and which, where it is most original, diverges most widely from
the usual lines of Christian thought. Yet it nowhere contradicts
the accepted standards of belief; and if it errs it does so in
explanation, not in the statement of the truths which it undertakes to
explain. Hilary has the distinction of being the only one of his
contemporaries with the speculative genius to imagine this development
ending in the abolition of incongruity and in the restoration of the
full majesty of the Son and of man with Him338 . He saw that there must be such
a development, and if he was wrong in tracing its course, there is a
reverence and loyalty, a solidity of reasoning and steady grasp of the
problems under discussion, which save him from falling into mere
ingenuity or ostentation. Sometimes he may seem to be on the
verge of heresy; but in each case it will be found that, whether his
system be right or no, the place in it which he has found for an
argument used elsewhere in the interests of error is one where the
argument is powerless for evil. Sometimes—and this is the
most serious reproach that can be brought against him—it must
seem that his theology is abstract, moving in a region apart from the
facts of human life. It must be admitted that this is the case;
that though, as we shall presently see, Hilary had a clear sense of the
realities of temptation and sin and of the need of redemption, and has
expressed himself in these regards with the fervour and practical
wisdom of an earnest and experienced pastor, still these subjects lie
within the sphere of his feelings rather than of his thought. It
was not his fault that he lived in the days before St. Augustine, and
in the heat of an earlier controversy; and it is his conspicuous merit
that in his zeal for the Divinity of Christ he traced the Incarnation
back beyond the beginning of sin and found its motive in God’s
eternal purpose of uniting
man to Himself. He does not estimate the condescension of Christ
by the distance which separates the Sinless from the sinful. To
his wider thought sin is not the cause of that great sequence of Divine
acts of grace, but a disturbing factor which has modified its
course. The measure of the love of God in Christ is the infinity
He overpassed in uniting the Creator with the creature.
But before we approach the practical theology of
Hilary something must be said of his teaching concerning the Third
Person of the Trinity. The doctrine of the Holy Spirit is little
developed in his writings. The cause was, in part, his sympathy
with Eastern thought. The West, in this as in some other
respects, was in advance of the contemporary Greeks; but Hilary was too
independent to accept conclusions which were as yet unreasoned339
339 Cf. Harnack,
Dogmengesch. ii. 281. But Harnack is unjust in saying that
Hilary had not quite made up his own mind. | . But a stronger reason was that
the doctrine was not directly involved in the Arian controversy.
On the main question, as we have seen, he kept an open mind, and was
prepared to modify from time to time the terms in which he stated the
Divinity of our Lord; but in other respects he was often strangely
archaic. Such is the case here; Hilary’s is a logical
position, but the logical process has been arrested. There is
nothing in his words concerning the Holy Spirit inconsistent with the
later definitions of faith340
340 Gwatkin,
Studies of Arianism, p. 206 n.
‘Hilary’s belief in the deity of the Holy Spirit is hardly
more doubtful than St. John’s: yet he nowhere states it in
so many words.’ | , and it would be
unfair to blame him because, in the course of a strenuous life devoted
to the elucidation and defence of other doctrines, he found no time to
develope this; unfair also to blame him for not recognising its full
importance. In his earlier days, and while he was in alliance
with the Semiarians, there was nothing to bring this doctrine
prominently before his mind; in his later life it still lay outside the
range of controversy, so far as he was concerned. Hilary, in
fact, preferred like Athanasius to rest in the indefinite terms of the
original Nicene Creed, the confession of which ended with the simple
‘And in the Holy Ghost.’ But there was a further and
practical reason for his reserve. It was a constant taunt of the
Arians that the Catholics worshipped a plurality of Gods. The
frequency and emphasis with which Hilary denies that Christians have
either two Gods or one God in solitude proves that he regarded this
plausible assertion as one of the most dangerous weapons wielded by
heresy. It was his object, as a skilful disputant, to bring his
whole forces to bear upon them, and this in a precisely limited field
of battle. To import the question of the Holy Spirit into the
controversy might distract his reader’s attention from the main
issue, and afford the enemy an opening for that evasion which he
constantly accuses them of attempting. Hence, in part, the small
space allowed to so important a theme; and hence the avoidance, which
we noticed, of the very word ‘Trinity.’ The Arians
made the most of their argument about two Gods; Hilary would not allow
them the opportunity of imputing to the faithful a belief in
three. This might not have been a sufficient inducement, had it
stood alone, but the encouragement which he received from
Origen’s vagueness, representative as it was of the average
theology of the third century, must have predisposed him to give weight
to the practical consideration. Yet Hilary has not avoided a
formal statement of his belief. In Trin. ii. §§
29–35, which is, as we saw, part of a summary statement of the
Christian Faith, he sets it forth with Scripture proofs. But he
shows clearly, by the short space he allows to it, that it is not in
his eyes of co-ordinate importance with the other truths of which he
treats. And the curious language in which he introduces the
subject, in § 29, seems to imply that he throws it in to satisfy
others rather than from his own sense of its necessary place in such a
statement. The doctrine, as he here defines it, is that the Holy
Spirit undoubtedly exists; the Father and the Son are the Authors of
His being, and, since He is joined with Them in our confession,
He cannot, without mutilation of
the Faith, be separated from Them. The fact that He is given to
us is a further proof of His existence. Yet the title
‘Spirit’ is often used both for Father and for Son; in
proof of this St. John iv. 24 and 2 Cor. iii. 17 are cited. Yet the Holy
Spirit has a personal341
341 If the word may be
admitted for the sake of clearness. Hilary never calls the Spirit
a Person. | existence and a
special office in relation to us. It is through Him that we know
God. Our nature is capable of knowing Him, as the eye is capable
of sight; and the gift of the Spirit is to the soul what the gift of
light is to the eye. Again, in xii. §§ 55, 56, the
subject is introduced, as if by an after thought, and even more briefly
than in the second book. As he has refused to style the Son a
creature, so he refuses to give that name to the Spirit, Who has gone
forth from God, and been sent by Christ. The Son is the
Only-begotten, and therefore he will not say that the Spirit was
begotten; yet he cannot call Him a creature, for the Spirit’s
knowledge of the mysteries of God, of which He is the Interpreter to
men, is the proof of His oneness in nature with God. The Spirit
speaks unutterable things and is ineffable in His operation.
Hilary cannot define, yet he believes. It must suffice to say,
with the Apostle, simply that He is the Spirit of God. The tone
of § 56 seems that of silent rebuke to some excess of definition,
as he would deem it, of which he had heard. To these passages
must be added another in Trin. viii. 19 f., where the possession
by Father and Son of one Spirit is used in proof of their own
unity. But in this passage there occur several instances of
Hilary’s characteristic vagueness. As in ii. 30, so here we
are told that ‘the Spirit’ may mean Father or Son as well
as Holy Ghost342
342 §§
23, 25, 30; so also ix. 69 and notably in x. 16. Similarly in
Comm. in Matt. iii. 1, the Spirit means Christ. | , and instances
are given where the word has one or other of the two first
significations. Thus we must set a certain number of passages
where a reference in Scripture to the Holy Spirit is explained away
against a number, certainly no greater, in which He is recognised, and
in the latter we notice a strong tendency to understate the
truth. For though we are expressly told that the Spirit is not a
creature, that He is from the Father through the Son, is of one
substance with Them and bears the same relation to the One that He
bears to the Other343
343 Trin. viii.
20, ix. 73 fin., and especially ii. 4. This last is not a
reference to the Macedonian heresy, but to the logical result of
Arianism. | , yet Hilary
refuses with some emphasis and in a conspicuous place, at the very end
of the treatise, to call Him God. But both groups of passages,
those in which the Holy Ghost is recognised and those in which reason
is given for non-recognition, are more than counterbalanced by a
multitude in which, no doubt for the controversial reason already
mentioned, the Holy Spirit is left unnamed, though it would have been
most natural that allusion should be made to Him344
344 Trin. i. 17,
v. 1, 35, vii. 8, 31, viii. 31, 36, x. 6 &c. | . We find in Hilary
‘the premises from which the Divinity of the Holy Ghost is the
necessary conclusion345
345 Baltzer,
Theologie des hl. Hilarius, p. 51. | ;’ and there
is reason to believe that he would have stated the doctrine of the
Procession in the Western, not in the Eastern, form346
346 Trin. viii.
21, xii. 55. | ; but we find a certain willingness to
keep the doctrine in the background, which sufficiently indicates a
failure to grasp its cardinal importance, and is, however natural in
his circumstances and however interesting as evidence of his mode of
thought, a blemish to the De Trinitate, if we seek in it a
balanced exposition of the Faith347
347 The work by
Tertullian in which the doctrine of the Spirit is most fully brought
out; in which, in fact, He is first expressly named God, is the
Adversus Praxean. It was written after his secession from
the Church, and Hilary, upon whom it had more influence than any other
of Tertullian’s writings, may have suspected that this teaching
was the expression of his Montanism rather than a legitimate deduction
from Scripture, and so have been misled by over caution. He may
also have been influenced by such Biblical passages as Rev. xiv. 1,
where the Spirit is unnamed. | .
We may now turn to the practical teaching of
Hilary. Henceforth he will be no longer the compiler of the best
Latin handbook of the Arian controversy, or the somewhat unsystematic
investigator of unexplored regions of theology. We shall find him
often accepting the common stock of
Christian ideas of his age, without criticism or attempt at improvement
upon them; often paraphrasing in even more emphatic language emphatic
and apparently contradictory passages of Scripture, without any effort
after harmony or balance. Yet sometimes we shall find him
anticipating on one page the thoughts of later theologians, while on
another he is content to repeat the views upon the same subject which
had satisfied an earlier generation. His doctrine, where it is
not traditional, is never more than tentative, and we must not be
surprised, we must even expect, to find him inconsistent with
himself.
No subject illustrates this inconsistency better
than that of sin, of which Hilary gives two accounts, the one Eastern
and traditional, the other an anticipation of Augustinianism.
These are never compared and weighed the one against the other.
In the passages where each appears, it is adduced confidently, without
any reservation or hint that he is aware of another explanation of the
facts of experience. The more usual account is that which is
required by Hilary’s doctrine of the separate creation of every
human soul, which is good, because it is God’s immediate work,
and has a natural tendency to, and fitness for, perfection.
Because God, after Whose image man is made, is free, therefore man also
is free; he has absolute liberty, and is under no compulsion to good or
to evil348
348 E.g. Tr.
in Ps. ii. l6, li. 23. | . The sin which God foresees, as
in the case of Esau, He does not foreordain349 . Punishment never follows except
upon sin actually committed; the elect are they who show themselves
worthy of election350
350 Ib.
cxviii., Teth, 4, lxiv. 5. | . But the human
body has defiled the soul; in fact, Hilary sometimes speaks as though
sin were not an act of will but an irresistible pressure exerted by the
body on the soul. If we had no body, he says once, we should have
no sin; it is a ‘body of death’ and cannot be pure.
This is the spiritual meaning of the ancient law against touching a
corpse351
351 Ib.
cxviii., Gimel, 3, 4. | . When the Psalmist laments that his
soul cleaveth to the ground, his sorrow is that it is inseparably
attached to a body of earth352 ; when Job and
Jeremiah cursed the day of their birth, their anger was directed
against the necessity of living surrounded by the weaknesses and vices
of the flesh, not against the creation of their souls after the image
of God353 . Such language, if it stood alone,
would convict its author of Manicheanism, but Hilary elsewhere asserts
that the desire of the soul goes half-way to meet the invitation of
sin354 , and this latter in his normal
teaching. Man has a natural proclivity to evil, an inherited
weakness355
355 E.g. ib.
cxviii., Aleph, 8, lii. 12. Natura
infirmitatis is a favourite phrase. | which has, as a
matter of experience, betrayed all men into actual sin, with the
exception of Christ356
356 E.g. ib.
lii. 9, cxviii., Gimel, 12, Vau, 6. | . Elsewhere,
however, Hilary recognises the possibility, under existing conditions,
of a sinless life. For David could make the prayer, ‘Take
from me the way of iniquity;’ of iniquity itself he was
guiltless, and only needed to pray against the tendency inherent in his
bodily nature357
357 Ib.
cxviii. Daleth, 8; cf. He, 16. | . But such a
case is altogether exceptional; ordinary men must confide in the
thought that God is indulgent, for He knows our infirmity. He is
propitiated by the wish to be righteous, and in His judgment the merits
of good men outweigh their sins358 . Hence a
prevalent tone of hopefulness about the future state of the baptized;
even Sodom and Gomorrah, their punishment in history having satisfied
the righteousness of God, shall ultimately be saved359 . Yet God has a perfect, immutable
goodness of which human goodness, though real, falls infinitely short,
because He is steadfast and we are driven by varying impulses360 . This Divine goodness is the standard
and the hope set before us. It can only be attained by
grace361
361 E.g. ib.
cxviii., Prolog. 2, Aleph, 12, Phe, 8. | , and grace is freely offered. But
just as the soul, being free, advances to meet sin, so it must advance
to meet grace. Man must take the first step; he must wish and
pray for grace, and then perseverance in faith will be granted him362
362 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., He. 12, Nun 20. But in the
former passage the perseverance also depends upon the
Christian. | , together with such a measure of the
Spirit as he shall desire and deserve363 . He
will, indeed, be able to do more than he need, as David did when he
spared and afterwards lamented Saul, his worst enemy, and St. Paul, who
voluntarily abstained from the lawful privilege of marriage364
364 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., Nun, 11 f. | . Such is Hilary’s first
account, ‘a naive, undeveloped mode of thought concerning the
origin of sin and the state of man365 .’
Its inconsistencies are as obvious as their cause, the unguarded
homiletical expansion of isolated passages. There is no attempt
to reconcile man’s freedom to be good with the fact of universal
sin. The theory, so far as it is consistent, is derived from
Alexandria, from Clement and Origen. It may seem not merely
inadequate as theology, but philosophical rather than Christian; and
its aim is, indeed, that of strengthening man’s sense of moral
responsibility and of heightening his courage to withstand
temptation. But we must remember that Hilary everywhere assumes
the union between the Christian and Christ. While this union
exists there is always the power of bringing conduct into conformity
with His will. Conduct, then, is, comparatively speaking, a
matter of detail. Sins of action and emotion do not necessarily
sever the union; a whole system of casuistry might be built upon
Hilary’s foundation. But false thoughts of God violate the
very principle of union between Him and man. However abstract
they may seem and remote from practical life, they are an insuperable
barrier. For intellectual harmony, as well as moral, is
necessary; and error of belief, like a key moving in a lock with whose
wards it does not correspond, forbids all access to the nature and the
grace of God. A good example of his relative estimate of
intellectual and moral offences occurs in the Homily on Psalm i.
§§ 6–8, where it is noteworthy that he does not trace
back the former to moral causes366
366 So also the
sin against the Holy Ghost is primarily intellectual, not ethical;
Comm. in Matt. v. 15, xii. 17. | .
Against these, the expressions of Hilary’s
usual opinion, must be set others in which he anticipates the language
of St. Augustine in the Pelagian controversy. But certain
deductions must be made, before we can rightly judge the weight of his
testimony on the side of original sin. Passages where he is
merely amplifying the words of Scripture must be excluded, as also
those which are obviously exhibitions of unguarded rhetoric. For
instance such words as these, ‘Ever since the sin and unbelief of
our first parent, we of later generations have had sin for the father
of our body and unbelief for the mother of our soul367 ,’ contradicting as they do
Hilary’s well-known theory of the origin of the soul, cannot be
regarded as giving his deliberate belief concerning sin. Again,
we must be careful not to interpret strong language concerning the body
(e.g. Tr. in Ps. cxviii, Caph, 5 fin.), as though
it referred to our whole complex manhood. But after all
deductions a good deal of strong Augustinianism remains. In the
person of Adam God created all mankind, and all are implicated in his
downfall, which was not only the beginning of evil but is a continuous
power368
368 Trin.
iv. 21; Tr. in Ps. lxvi. 2; Comm. in Matt. xviii.
6. | . Not only as a matter of
experience, is no man sinless, but no man can, by any possibility, be
free from sin369
369 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., He, 16. | . Because of
the sin of one sentence is passed upon all370
370 Tr. in
Ps. lix. 4 in. | ;
the sentence of slavery which is so deep a degradation that the victim
of sin forfeits even the name of man371
371 Ib.
cxlii. 6, cxviii., Iod, 2. In regard to the latter passage
we must remember once more what importance Hilary attaches to
names. | . But
Hilary not only states the doctrine; he approaches very nearly, on rare
occasions, to the term ‘original sin372
372 Comm. in
Matt. x. 24, originis nostræ peccata; Tr. in
Ps. cxviii, Tau, 6, scit sub peccati origine et sub
peccati lege se esse natum. Other passages must be cited from
quotations in St. Augustine, but Förster, p. 676, has given reason
for doubting Hilary’s authorship. | .’ It follows that nothing
less than a regeneration, the free gift of God, will avail373
373 E.g.
Comm. in Matt. x. 24. | ; and the grace by which the Christian
must be maintained is also His spontaneous and unconditional gift. Faith,
knowledge, Christian life, all have their origin and their maintenance
from Him374
374 Tr. in
Ps. cxviii., Vau, 4, Lamed, 1; cf. Nun,
20. | . Such is a
brief statement of Hilary’s position as a forerunner of St.
Augustine. The passages cited are scattered over his writings,
from the earliest to the latest, and there is no sign that the more
modern view was gaining ground in his mind as his judgment
ripened. He had no occasion to face the question, and was content
to say whatever seemed obviously to arise from the words under
discussion, or to be most profitable to his audience. His
Augustinianism, if it may be called so, is but one of many instances of
originality, a thought thrown out but not developed. It is a
symptom of revolt against the inadequate views of older theologians;
but it had more influence upon the mind of his great successor than
upon his own. Dealing, as he did, with the subject in hortatory
writings, hardly at all, and only incidentally, in his formal treatise
on the Trinity, he preferred to regard it as a matter of morals rather
than of doctrine. And the dignity of man, impressed upon him by
the great Alexandrians, seemed to demand for humanity the fullest
liberty.
We may now turn to the Atonement, by which Christ
has overcome sin. Hilary’s language concerning it is, as a
rule, simply Scriptural375
375 E.g.
Trin. ix. 10; Tr. in Ps. cxxix. 9. | . He had no
occasion to discuss the doctrine, and his teaching is that which was
traditional in his day, without any such anticipations of future
thought as we found in his treatment of sin. Since the humanity
of Christ is universal, His death was on behalf of all mankind,
‘to buy the salvation of the whole human race by the offering of
this holy and perfect Victim376
376 Tr. in. Ps.
liii. 13 fin. | .’
His last cry upon the cross was the expression of His sorrow that some
would not profit by His sacrifice; that He was not, as He had desired,
bearing the sins of all377
377 Comm. in
Matt. xxxiii. 6. | . He was
able to take them upon Him because He had both natures. His
manhood could do what His Godhead could not; it could atone for the
sins of men. Man had been overcome by Satan; Satan, in his turn,
has been overcome by Man. In the long conflict, enduring through
Christ’s life, of which the first pitched battle was the
Temptation, the last the Crucifixion, the victory has been won by the
Mediator in the flesh378 . The
devil was in the wrong throughout. He was deceived, or rather
deceived himself, not recognising what it was for which Christ
hungered379 . The same
delusion as to Christ’s character led him afterwards to exact the
penalty of sin from One Who had not deserved it380
380 Tr. in Ps.
lxviii. 8. | . Thus the human sufferings of
Christ, unjustly inflicted, involve His enemy in condemnation and
forfeit his right to hold mankind enslaved. Therefore we are set
free381 , and the sinless Passion and death are
the triumph of the flesh over spiritual wickedness and the vengeance of
God upon it382 . Man is
set free, because he is justified in Christ, Who is Man. But the
fact that Christ could do the works necessary to this end is proof that
He is God. These works included the endurance of such
suffering—in the sense, of course, which Hilary attaches to the
word—as no one who was not more than man could bear. Hence
he emphasises the Passion, because in so doing he magnifies the Divine
nature of Him Who sustained it383
383 E.g.
Trin. x. 23, 47 in. | . He sets
forth the sufferings in the light of deeds, of displays of
power384 , the greatest wonder being that the Son
of God should have made Himself passible. Yet though it was from
union with the Godhead that His humanity possessed the purity, the
willingness, the power to win this victory, and thought, in
Hilary’s words, it was immortal God Who died upon the Cross,
still it was a victory won not by God but by the flesh385
385 Comm. in
Matt. iii. 2. | . But the Passion must not be
regarded simply as an attack, ending in his own overthrow, made by
Satan upon Christ. It is also a free satisfaction offered to God
by Christ as Man, in order that His sufferings might release us from
the punishment we had deserved, being accepted instead of ours386
386 E.g. Tr.
in Ps. liii. 12, 13 (translated in this volume) lxiv. 4. | . This latter was a thought
peculiarly characteristic of the West, and
especially of St. Cyprian’s teaching; but Hilary has had his
share in giving prominence to the propitiatory aspect of Christ’s
self-sacrifice387
387 Cf. Harnack, ii.
177; Schwane, ii. 271. | . Yet it
must be confessed that the death of Christ is somewhat in the
background; that Hilary is less interested in its positive value than
in its negative aspect, as the cessation from earthly life and the
transition to glory. Upon this, and upon the evidential
importance of the Passion as a transcendent exertion of power, whereby
the Son of God held Himself down and constrained Himself to suffer and
die, Hilary chiefly dwells. The death has not, in his eyes, the
interest of the Resurrection. The reason is that it does not
belong to the course of the Incarnation as fore-ordained by God, but is
only a modification of it, rendered necessary by the sinful self-will
of man. Had there been no Fall, the visible, palpable flesh would
still have been laid aside, though not by death upon the Cross, when
Christ’s work in the world was done; and there would have been
some event corresponding to the Ascension, if not to the
Resurrection. The body, laid aside on earth, would have been
resumed in glory; and human flesh, unfallen and therefore not corrupt,
yet free and therefore corruptible, would have entered into perfectly
harmonious union with His Divinity, and so have been rendered safe from
all possibility of evil. The purpose of raising man to the
society of God was anterior to the beginnings of sin; and it is this
broader conception that renders the Passion itself intelligible, while
relegating it to a secondary place. But Hilary, though as a rule
he mentions the subject not for its own sake but in the course of
argument, has as firm a faith in the efficacy of Christ’s death
and of His continued intercession in His humanity for mankind388
388 E.g.
Tr. in Ps. liii. 4. | as he has in His triumphant
Resurrection.
In regard to the manner in which man is to profit
by the Atonement, Hilary shews the same inconsistency as in the case of
sin. On the one hand, he lays frequent stress on knowledge
concerning God and concerning the nature of sin as the first conditions
of salvation; on the other, he insists, less often yet with equal
emphasis, upon its being God’s spontaneous gift to men, to be
appropriated only by faith. We have already seen that one of
Hilary’s positions is that man must take the first step towards
God; that if we will make the beginning He will give the
increase389
389 Cf. p.
lxxxv. fin. In Tr. in Ps. cxviii., Nun, 20,
Hilary says ‘the reward of the consummation attained depends upon
the initiative of the will;’ so also Trin. i.
11. | . This
increase is the knowledge of God imparted to willing minds390 , which lifts them up to piety. He
states strongly the superiority of knowledge to
faith;—“There is a certain greater effectiveness in
knowledge than in faith. Thus the writer here did not believe; he
knew391
391 Hilary is commenting
on the words, ‘I know, O Lord, that Thy judgments are
right.’ | . For faith has the reward of
obedience, but it has not the assurance of ascertained truth. The
Apostle has indicated the breadth of the interval between the two by
putting the latter in the lower place in his list of the gifts of
graces. ‘To the first wisdom, to the next knowledge, to the
third faith’ is his message392 ; for he who
believes may be ignorant even while he believes, but he who has come to
know is saved by his possession of knowledge from the very possibility
of unbelief393
393 Tr. in
Ps.cxviii., Iod, 12. | .”
This high estimation of sound knowledge was due, no doubt, to the
intellectual character of the Arian conflict, in which each party
retorted upon the other the charge of ignorance and folly; and it must
have been confirmed by the observation that some who were conspicuous
for the misinterpretation of Scripture were notorious also for moral
obliquity. There was, however, that deeper reason which
influenced all Hilary’s thought; the conviction that if there is
to be any harmony, any understanding between God and the soul of man,
it must be a perfect harmony and understanding. And knowledge is
pre-eminently the sphere in which this is possible, for the revelation
of God is clear and precise, and unmistakable in its import394
394 E.g.
Trin. x. 70, xi. 1. | . But there was another, a directly
practical reason for
this insistence. Apprehension of Divine truths is the unfailing
test of a Christian mind; conduct changes and faith varies in
intensity, but the facts of religion remain the same, and the believer
can be judged by his attitude towards them. Hence we cannot be
surprised that Hilary maintains the insufficiency of ‘simplicity
of faith,’ and ranks its advocates with heathen philosophers who
regard purity of life as a substitute for religion. God, he says,
has provided copious knowledge, with which we cannot dispense395
395 Tr. in Ps.
cxviii., prolog. 4. | . But this knowledge is to embrace
not only the truth concerning God, but also concerning the realities of
human life. It is to be a knowledge of the fact that sins have
been committed and an opening of the eyes to their enormity396
396 Ib. cxxxv. 3;
confessio is paraphrased by professa cognitio.
Similar language is used in cxxxvii. 2 f. | . This will be followed
by confession to God, by the promise to Him that we will henceforth
regard sin as He regards it, and by the profession of a firm purpose to
abandon it. Here again the starting-point is human
knowledge. When the right attitude towards sin, intellectually
and therefore morally, has been assumed, when there is the purpose of
amendment and an earnest and successful struggle against sensual and
worldly temptations, then we shall become ‘worthy of the favour
of God397
397 Ib.
ii. 38; cf. lii. 12 in., cxix. 11 (4). | .’ In this light confession
is habitually regarded398
398 It is always
confession to God directly. There is no hint of public or
ceremonial confession, or of absolution. But Hilary’s
abstinence from allusion to the practical system of the Church is so
complete that no argument can ever be drawn from his silence as to the
existence, or the importance in his eyes, of her institutions. | ; it is a
voluntary moral act, a self-enlightenment to the realities of sin,
necessarily followed by repugnance and the effort to escape, and
antecedent to Divine pardon and aid. But in contrast to this,
Hilary’s normal judgment, there are passages where human action
is put altogether in the background. Forgiveness is the
spontaneous bounty of God, overflowing from the riches of His
loving-kindness, and faith the condition of its bestowal and the means
by which it is appropriated399
399 Tr. in Ps.
lxvi. 2, lvi. 3. | . Even the
Psalmist, himself perfect in all good works, prayed for mercy; he put
his whole trust in God, and so must we400
400 Ib. cxviii.,
Koph, 6. | .
And faith precedes knowledge also, which is unattainable except by the
believer401 . Salvation does
not come first, and then faith, but through faith is the hope of
salvation; the blind man believed before he saw402
402 Comm. in Matt.
ix. 9. | . Here again, as in the case of sin, we
have two groups of statements without attempt at reconciliation; but
that which lays stress upon human initiative is far more numerous than
the other, and must be regarded as expressing Hilary’s underlying
thought in his exhortations to Christian conduct, to his doctrine of
which we may now turn.
We must first premise that Christ’s work as
our Example as well as our Saviour is fully recognised. Many of
his deeds on earth were done by way of dispensation, in order to set us
a pattern of life and thought403
403 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. liii. 7. | . Christian
life has, of course, its beginning in the free gift of Baptism, with
the new life and the new faculties then bestowed, which render possible
the illumination of the soul404 . Hilary, as
was natural at a time when Baptism was often deferred by professed
Christians, and there were many converts from paganism, seems to
contemplate that of adults as the rule; and he feels it necessary to
warn them that their Baptism will not restore them to perfect
innocence. In fact, by a strange conjecture tentatively made, he
once suggests that our Baptism is that wherewith John baptized our
Lord, and that the Baptism of the Holy Ghost awaits us hereafter, in
cleansing fires beyond the grave or in the purification of
martyrdom405
405 Tr. in Ps.
cxviii.,Gimel, 5. Hilary never mentions
Confirmation. | . Hilary nowhere
says in so many words that while Baptism abolishes sins previously
committed, alms and other good deeds perform a similar office for later
offences, but his view, which will be presently stated, concerning good
works shews that he agreed in this respect with St. Cyprian; neither,
however, would hold that the good works were sufficient in ordinary
cases without the
further purification. Martyrdoms had, of course, ceased in
Hilary’s day throughout the Roman empire, but it is interesting
to observe that the old opinion, which had such power in the third
century, still survived. The Christian, then, has need for fear,
but he has a good hope, for all the baptized while in this world are
still in the land of the living, and can only forfeit their citizenship
by wilful and persistent unworthiness406
406 Tr. in Ps. li.
16, 17. | . The
means for maintaining the new life of effort is the Eucharist, which is
equally necessary with Baptism407
407 E.g. ib.
cxxxi. 23; Trin. viii. 13. The latter is the only passage
in Hilary’s writings in which the subject is discussed at length;
and even here it is not introduced for its own sake. | . But the
Eucharist is one of the many matters of practical importance on which
Hilary is almost silent, having nothing new to say, and being able to
assume that his readers and hearers were well informed and of one mind
with himself. His reticence is never a proof that he regarded
them with indifference.
The Christian life is thus a life of hope and of
high possibilities. But Hilary frankly and often recognises the
serious short-comings of the average believers of his day408
408 E.g. Tr. in
Ps. i. 9 f., cxviii., Koph, 6. Conduct in church was
not more exemplary than outside. The most innocent employment
which he attributes to many of his people during the reading of the
lessons is the casting up of their business accounts, Tr. in Ps.
cxxxv. 1. | . Sometimes, in his zeal for their
improvement and in the wish to encourage his flock, he even seems to
condone their faults, venturing to ascribe to God what may almost be
styled mere good-nature, as when he speaks of God, Himself immutable,
as no stern Judge of our changefulness, but rather appeased by the wish
on our part for better things than angry because we cannot perform
impossibilities. But in this very passage409
409 Tr. in Ps. lii.
9–12. | he
holds up for our example the high attainment of the Saints, explaining
that the Psalmist’s words, ‘There is none that doeth good,
no not one,’ refer only to those who are altogether gone out of
the way and become abominable, and not to all mankind. Indeed,
holding as he does that all Christians may have as much grace from God
as they will take410 , and that the conduct
which is therefore possible is also necessary to salvation, he could
not consistently maintain the lower position. In fact, the
standard of life which Hilary sets in the Homilies on the Psalms
is very high. Cleanness of hand and heart is the first object at
which we must aim411
411 Tr. in
Ps.cxviii., Aleph, 1. | , and the Law of God
must be our delight. This is the lesson inculcated throughout his
discourses on Psalm cxix. He recognises the complexity of life,
with its various duties and difficulties, which are, however, a
privilege inasmuch as there is honour to be won by victory over
them412 ; and he takes a common-sense view of our
powers and responsibilities413 . But though
his tone is buoyant and life in his eyes is well worth living for the
Christian414
414 E.g.
Trin. i. 14, vi. 19. | , he insists not
merely upon a general purity of life, but upon renunciation of worldly
pleasures. Like Cyprian, he would apparently have the wealthy
believer dispose of his capital and spend his income in works of
charity, without thought of economy415 . Like
Cyprian, again, he denounces the wearing of gold and jewellery416
416 Ib.
cxviii., Ain, 16, 17. | , and the attendance at public places of
amusement. Higher interests, spiritual and intellectual, must
take the place of such dissipation. Sacred melody will be more
attractive than the immodest dialogue of the theater, and study of the
course of the stars a more pleasing pursuit than a visit to the
racecourse417 . Yet
strictly and even sternly Christian as Hilary is, he does not allow us
altogether to forget that his is an age with another code than
ours. Vengeance with him is a Christian motive. He takes
with absolute literalness the Psalmist’s imprecations418 . Like every other emotion which he
expresses, that of delight at the punishment of evil doers ought to
have a place in the Christian soul. This was an inheritance from
the days of persecution, which were still within the memory of living
men. Cyprian often encourages the confessors to patience by the
prospect of seeing the wrath of God upon their enemies; but he never
gives so strong
expression to the feeling as Hilary does, when he enforces obedience to
our Lord’s command to turn the other cheek by the consideration
that fuller satisfaction will be gained if the wrong be stored up
against the Day of Judgement419
419 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxvii. 16. Cf. Trin. x. 55, where he refuses to
believe that it was with real sorrow that our Lord wept over Jerusalem,
that godless and murderous city. His tears were a
dispensation. | . There is
something hard and Puritan in the tone which Hilary has caught from the
men of the times of persecution; and his conflict with heretics gave
him ample opportunity for indulgence in the thought of vengeance upon
them. This was no mere pardonable excitement of feeling; it was a
Christian duty and privilege to rejoice in the future destruction of
his opponents. But there is an even stranger difference between
his standard and ours. Among the difficulties of keeping in the
strait and narrow way he reckons that of truthfulness. A lie, he
says, is often necessary, and deliberate falsehood sometimes
useful420
420 Tr. in Ps. xiv.
10, est enim necessarium plerumque mendacium, et nonnunquam falsitas
utilis est. The latter apparently refers to his second
example. | . We may mislead an assassin, and so
enable his intended victim to escape; our testimony may save a
defendant who is in peril in the courts; we may have to cheer a sick
man by making light of his ailment. Such are the cases in which
the Apostle says that our speech is to be ‘seasoned with
salt.’ It is not the lie that is wrong; the point of
conscience is whether or no it will inflict injury upon another.
Hilary is not alone in taking falsehood lightly421
421 Hermas,
Mand. iii. 3, confesses to wholesale lying; he had never heard
that it was wrong. But the writer of the Shepherd does not
represent his mouthpiece as a model of virtue. It is more
significant that Tertullian, Pud. 19, classes breach of trust
and lying among slight sins which may happen to anyone any day.
This was in his strictest and most censorious period. There are
grave difficulties in reconciling some of Cyprian’s statements
concerning his opponents with one another and with probability, but he
has not ventured upon any general extenuation of the vice. | ,
and allowance must be made for the age in which he lived. And his
words cast light upon the history of the time. The constant
accusations made against the character and conduct of theological
opponents, which are so painful a feature of the controversies of the
early centuries, find their justification in the principle which Hilary
has stated. No harm was done, rather a benefit was conferred upon
mankind, if a false teacher could be discredited in a summary and
effective manner; such was certainly a thought which presented itself
to the minds of combatants, both orthodox and heterodox. Apart
from these exceptions, which, however, Hilary would not have regarded
as such, his standard of life, as has been said, is a high one both in
faith and in practice, and his exhortation is full of strong common
sense. It is, however, a standard set for educated people; there
is little attention paid to those who are safe from the dangers of
intellect and wealth. The worldliness which he rebukes is that of
the rich and influential; and his arguments are addressed to the
reading class, as are his numerous appeals to his audience in the
Homilies on the Psalms to study Scripture for themselves.
Indeed, his advice to them seems to imply that they have abundant
leisure for spiritual exercises and for reflection. But he does
not simply ignore the illiterate, still mostly pagans, for the work of
St. Martin of Tours only began, as we saw, in Hilary’s last days;
in one passage at least he speaks with the scorn of an ancient
philosopher of ‘the rustic mind,’ which will fail to find
the meaning of the Psalms422
422 Tr. in Ps.
cxxxiv. 1. | .
Hilary is not content with setting a standard
which his flock must strive to reach. He would have them attain
to a higher level than is commanded, and at the same time constantly
remember that they are failing to perform their duty to God. This
higher life is set before his whole audience as their aim. He
recognises the peculiar honour of the widow and the virgin423
423 Ib.
cxxxi. 24, cxxvii. 7, and especially cxviii., Nun,
14. | , but has singularly little to say about
these classes of the Christian community, or about the clergy, and no
special counsel for them. The works of supererogation—the
word is not his—which he preaches are within the reach of all
Christians. They consist in the more perfect practice of the
ordinary virtues. King David ‘was not content henceforth
to be confined to the express commands of the Law, nor to be subject to
a mere necessity of obedience.’ ‘The Prophet prays
that these free-will offerings may be acceptable to God, because the
deeds done in compliance to the Law’s edict are performed under
the actual compulsion of servitude424
424 Tr. in Ps.
cxviii., Nun, 13, 15. It is in this passage that
Hilary gives his views most fully. His antithesis is
between legitima and voluntaria. | .’
As an instance he gives the character of David. His duty was to
be humble; he made himself humble exceedingly, thus doing more than he
was legally bound to do. He spared his enemies so far as in him
lay, and bewailed their death; this was a free service to which he was
bound by no compulsion. Such conduct places those who practice it
on the same level with those whose lives are formally consecrated; the
state of the latter being regarded, as always in early times, as
admirable in itself, and not as a means towards higher things.
Vigils and fasts and acts of mercy are the methods advocated by Hilary
for such attainment. But they must not stand alone, nor must the
Christian put his trust in them. Humility must have faith for its
principle, and fasting be combined with charity.425
425 l.c. Nun,
14, Comm. in Matt. v. 2. In the latter passage there is a
piece of practical advice which shews that public fasts were generally
recognised. Hilary tells his readers that they must not take
literally our Lord’s command to anoint themselves when they
fast. If they do, they will render themselves conspicuous and
ridiculous. The passage, Comm. in Matt. xxvii. 5, 6, on
the parables of the Virgins with their lamps and of the Talents cannot
be taken, as by Förster, as evidence that Hilary rejected the
later doctrine of the supererogatory righteousness of the Saints.
He is speaking of the impossibility of contemporaries conveying
righteousness to one another in the present life, and his words have no
bearing on that doctrine. | And the Christian must never forget
that though he may in some respects be doing more than he need, yet in
others he is certainly falling short. For the conflict is
unceasing; the devil, typified by the mountains in the Psalm, has been
touched by God and is smoking, but is not yet burning and powerless for
mischief426
426 Tr. in Ps.
cxliii. 11. | . Hence there
is constant danger lest the Christian fall into unbelief or
unfruitfulness, sins equally fatal427 ; he must not
trust in himself, either that he can deserve forgiveness for the past
or resist future temptations428
428 E.g.
ib. lxi. 6, cxviii., He, 12, Nun, 20, Koph,
6. | . Nor may
he dismiss his past offences from his memory. It can never cease
to be good for us to confess our former sins, even though we have
become righteous. St. Paul did not allow himself to forget that
he had persecuted the Church of God429 . But
there is a further need than that of penitence. Like Cyprian
before him and Augustine after him, Hilary insists upon the value of
alms in the sight of God. The clothing of the naked, the release
of the captive plead with God for the remission of our sins430 ; and the man who redeems his faults by alms
is classed among those who win His favour, with the perfect in love and
the blameless in faith431
431 Ib.
cxviii, Lamed, 15. Similar passages are fairly numerous;
e.g. Comm. in Matt. iv. 26. | .
Thus the thought of salvation by works greatly
preponderates over that of salvation by grace. Hilary is fearful
of weakening man’s sense of moral responsibility by dwelling too
much upon God’s work which, however, he does not fail to
recognise. Of the two great dangers, that of faith and that of
life, the former seemed to him the more serious. God’s
requirements in that respect were easy of fulfilment; He had stated the
truth and He expected it to be unhesitatingly accepted. But if
belief, being an exertion of the will, was easy, misbelief must be
peculiarly and fatally wicked. The confession of St. Peter, the
foundation upon which the Church is built, is that Christ is
God432 ; the sin against the Holy Ghost is denial
of this truth433
433 Comm. in
Matt. xii. 17, xxxi. 5. | . These are
the highest glory and the deepest shame of man. It does not seem
that Hilary regarded any man, however depraved, as beyond hope so long
as he did not dispute this truth; he has no code of mortal sins.
But heresy concerning Christ, whatever the conduct and character of the
heretic, excludes all possibility of salvation, for it necessarily cuts
him off from the one Faith and the one Church which are the condition
and the sphere of growth towards perfection; and the
severance is just, because
misbelief is a wilful sin. Since, then, compliance or
non-compliance with one of God’s demands, that for faith in His
revelation, depends upon the will, it was natural that Hilary should
lay stress upon the importance of the will in regard to God’s
other demand, that for a Christian life. This was, in a sense, a
lighter requirement, for various degrees of obedience were
possible. Conduct could neither give nor deny faith, but only
affect its growth, while without the frank recognition of the facts of
religion no conduct could be acceptable to God. Life presents to
the will a constantly changing series of choices between good and evil,
while the Faith must be accepted or rejected at once and as a
whole. It is clear from Hilary’s insistence upon this that
the difficulties, apart from heresy, with which he had to contend
resembled those of Mission work in modern India. There were many
who would accept Christianity as a revelation, yet had not the moral
strength to live in conformity with their belief. Of such persons
Hilary will not despair. They have the first essential of
salvation, a clear and definite acceptance of doctrinal truth; they
have also the offer of sufficient grace, and the free will and power to
use it. And time and opportunity are granted, for the
vicissitudes of life form a progressive education; they are, if taken
aright, the school, the training-ground for immortality434 . This is because all Christians are
in Christ, by virtue of His Incarnation. They are, as St. Paul
says, complete in Him, furnished with the faith and hope they
need. But this is only a preparatory completeness; hereafter they
shall be complete in themselves, when the perfect harmony is attained
and they are conformed to his glory435 . Thus
to the end the dignity and responsibility of mankind is
maintained. But it is obvious that Hilary has failed to correlate
the work of Christ with the work of the Christian. The necessity
of His guidance and aid, and the manner in which these are bestowed, is
sufficiently stated, and the duty of the Christian man is copiously and
eloquently enforced. But the importance of Christ’s work
within Himself, in harmonising the two natures, has withdrawn most of
Hilary’s attention from His work within the believing soul; and
the impression which Hilary’s writings leave upon the mind
concerning the Saviour and redeemed mankind is that of allied forces
seeking the same end but acting independently, each in a sphere of its
own.
There still remains to be considered
Hilary’s account of the future state. The human soul, being
created after the image of God, is imperishable; resurrection is as
inevitable as death436
436 Tr. in Ps.
li. 18, lxiii. 9. | . And the
resurrection will be in the body, for good and bad alike. The
body of the good will be glorified, like that of Christ; its substance
will be the same as in the present life, its glory such that it will be
in all other respects a new body437 .
Indeed, the true life of man only begins when this transformation takes
place438 . No such change awaits the
wicked; we shall all rise, but we shall not all be changed, as St. Paul
says439 . They remain as they are, or rather
are subjected to a ceaseless process of deterioration, whereby the soul
is degraded to the level of the body, while this in the case of others
is raised, either instantly or by a course of purification, to the
level of the soul440
440 Comm. in Matt.
x. 19. | . Their last
state is vividly described in language which recalls that of Virgil;
crushed to powder and dried to dust they will fly for ever before the
wind of God’s wrath441 . For the
thoroughly good and the thoroughly bad the final state begins at the
moment of death. There is no judgment for either class, but only
for those whose character contains elements of both good and
evil442
442 Ib. i.
19 ff., translated in this volume. For the good, see also
ib. lvii. 7; for the bad, lvii. 5, Trin. vi.
3. | . But perfect goodness is only a
theoretical possibility, and Hilary is not certain of the condemnation
of any except wilful unbelievers. Evil is mingled in varying
proportions with good in the character of men at large; God can detect
it in the very best. All therefore need to be purified after death, if they
are to escape condemnation on the Day of Judgment. Even the
Mother of our Lord needs the purification of pain; this is the sword
which should pierce through her soul443
443 Tr. in
Ps.cxviii., Gimel, 12. | . All
who are infected by sin, the heretic who has erred in ignorance among
them444 , must pass through cleansing fires after
death. Then comes the general Resurrection. To the good it
brings the final change to perfect glory; the bad will rise only to
return to their former place445
445 Tr. in. Ps.
lii. 17, lxix. 3. | . The
multitude of men will be judged, and after the education and
purification of suffering to which, by God’s mercy, they have
been submitted, will be accepted by Him. Hilary’s writings
contain no hint that any who are allowed to present themselves on the
Day of Judgment will then be rejected.
We have now completed the survey of Hilary’s
thoughts. Many of these were strange and new to his
contemporaries, and his originality, we may be sure, deprived him of
some of the influence he wished to exert in the controversies of his
day. Yet he shared the spirit and entered heartily into the
interests and conflicts of his age, and therefore his thoughts in many
ways were different from our own. To this we owe, no doubt, the
preservation of his works; writings which anticipated modern opinion
would have been powerless for good in that day, and would not have
survived to ours. Thus from his own century to ours Hilary has
been somewhat isolated and neglected, and even misunderstood. Yet
he is one of the most notable figures in the history of the early
Church, and must be numbered among those who have done most to make
Christian thought richer and more exact. If we would appreciate
him aright as one of the builders of the dogmatic structure of the
Faith, we must omit from the materials of our estimate a great part of
his writings, and a part which has had a wider influence than any
other. His interpretation of the letter, though not of the
spirit, of Scripture must be dismissed; interesting as it always is,
and often suggestive, it was not his own and was a hindrance, though he
did not see it, to the freedom of his thought. Yet his exegesis
in detail is often admirable. For instance, it would not be easy
to overpraise his insight and courage in resisting the conventional
orthodoxy, sanctioned by Athanasius in his own generation and by
Augustine in the next, which interpreted St. Paul’s
‘first-born of every creature’ as signifying the
Incarnation of Christ, and not His eternal generation446
446 Trin.
viii. 50; Tr. in Ps. ii. 28. Cf. Lightfoot on Col.
i. 15. | . We must omit also much that Hilary
borrowed without question from current opinion; it is his glory that he
concentrated his attention upon some few questions of supreme
importance, and his strength, not his weakness, that he was ready to
adopt in other matters the best and wisest judgments to which he had
access. An intelligent, and perhaps ineffective, curiosity may
keep itself abreast of the thought of the time, to quote a popular
phrase; Hilary was content to survey wide regions of doctrine and
discipline with the eyes of Origen and of Cyprian. This
limitation of the interests of a powerful mind has enabled him to
penetrate further into the mysteries of the Faith than any of his
predecessors; to points, in fact, where his successors have failed to
establish themselves. We cannot blame him that later theologians,
starting where he left off, have in some directions advanced further
still. The writings of Hilary are the quarry whence many of the
best thoughts of Ambrose and of Leo are hewn. Eminent and
successful as these men were, we cannot rank them with Hilary as
intellectually his equals; we may even wonder how many of their
conclusions they would have drawn had not Hilary supplied the
premises. It is a greater honour that the unrivalled genius of
Augustine is deeply indebted to him. Nor may we blame him, save
lightly, for some rashness and error in his speculations. He set
out, unwillingly, as we know, but not half-heartedly, upon his novel
journey of exploration. He had not, as we have, centuries of
criticism behind him, and could not know that some of the
avenues he followed would
lead him astray. It may be that we are sober because we are, in a
sense, disillusioned; that modern Christian thought which starts from
the old premises tends to excess of circumspection. And certainly
Hilary would not have earned his fame as one of the most original and
profound of teachers, whose view of Christology is one of the most
interesting in the whole of Christian antiquity447 ,
had he not been inspired by a sense of freedom and of hope in his
quest. Yet great as was his genius and reverent the spirit in
which he worked, the errors into which he fell, though few, were
serious. There are instances in which he neglects his habitual
balancing of corresponding infinities; as when he shuts his eyes to
half the revelation, and asserts that Christ could not be ignorant and
could not feel pain. And there is that whole system of
dispensations which he has built up in explanation of Christ’s
life on earth; a system against which our conscience and our common
sense rebel, for it contradicts the plain words of Scripture and
attributes to God ‘a process of Divine reserve which is in fact
deception448
448 Gore,
Dissertations, p. 151. | .’ We
may compare Hilary’s method in such cases to the architecture of
Gloucester and of Sherborne, where the ingenuity of a later age has
connected and adorned the massive and isolated columns of Norman date
by its own light and graceful drapery of stonework. We cannot but
admire the result; yet there is a certain concealment of the original
design, and perhaps a perilous cutting away of the solid
structure. But, in justice to Hilary, we must remember that in
these speculations he is venturing away from the established standards
of doctrine. When he is enunciating revealed truths, or arguing
onward from them to conclusions towards which they point, he has the
company of the Creeds, or at least they indicate the way he must
go. But in explaining the connection between doctrine and
doctrine he is left to his own guidance. It is as though a
traveller, not content to acquaint himself with the highroads, should
make his way over hedge and ditch from one of them to another; he will
not always hit upon the best and straightest course. But at least
Hilary’s conclusions, though sometimes erroneous, were reached by
honest and reverent reasoning, and neither ancient nor modern theology
can afford to reproach him. The tendency of the former,
especially offer the rise of Nestorius, was to exaggerate some of his
errors; and the latter has failed to develope and enforce some of his
highest teaching.
This is, indeed, worthy of all admiration.
On the moral side of Christianity we see him insisting upon the
voluntary character of Christ’s work; upon His acts of will,
which are a satisfaction to God and an appeal to us449
449 Schwane, ii.
271, says, ‘Though we reject that part of it which attributes a
natural impassibility to the body of Christ, yet Hilary’s
exposition presents one truth more clearly than the earlier Fathers had
stated it, by giving to the doctrine of the representative satisfaction
of Christ its reasonable explanation as a free service of
satisfaction. He conceives rightly of the Lord’s whole life
on earth, with all its troubles and infirmities, as a sacrifice of free
love on the part of the God-Man; it is only his closer definition of
this sacrifice that is inaccurate.…Hilary lays especial stress
upon the freedom of the Lord s acceptance of death.’ He
quotes Trin. x. 11. | . On the intellectual side we find
the Unity in Trinity so luminously declared that Bishop French of
Lahore, one of the greatest of missionaries, had the works of Hilary
constantly in his hands, and contemplated a translation of the De
Trinitate into Arabic for the benefit of Mohammedans450
450 He had evidently
been long familiar with it (Life, i. 155), but the first mention
of its use for missionary purposes is in 1862 (ib. i.
137). He began the translation into Arabic at Tunis in 1890,
after his resignation of the bishopric of Lahore (ii. 333), but it
seems doubtful whether he was able to make any progress with it at
Muscat. His biographer says nothing of the amount actually
accomplished. | . This was not because Hilary’s
explanation of our Lord’s sufferings might seem to commend the
Gospel to their prejudices; such a concession would have been repugnant
to French’s whole mode of thought. It was because in the
central argument on behalf of the Godhead of Christ, where he had least
scope for originality of thought, Hilary has never suffered himself to
become a mere mechanical compiler. The light which he has cast
upon his subject,
though clear, is never hard; and the doctrine which, because it was
attractive to himself, he has made attractive to his readers, is that
of the unity of God, the very doctrine which is of supreme importance
in Mohammedan eyes451 .
But, above all, it is Hilary’s doctrine
concerning the Incarnation as the eternal purpose of God for the union
of the creature with the Creator, that must excite our interest and
awaken our thoughts. He renders it, on the one hand, impossible
to rate too highly the dignity of man, created to share the nature and
the life of God; impossible, on the other hand, to estimate highly
enough the condescension of Christ in assuming humanity. It is by
His humiliation that we are saved; by the fact that the nature of man
was taken by his Maker, not by the fact that Christ, being man,
remained sinless. For sin began against God’s will and
after His counsel was formed; it might deflect the march of His purpose
towards fulfilment, but could no more impede its consummation than it
could cause its inception. The true salvation of man is not that
which rescues him, when corrupt, from sin and its consequences, but
that which raises him, corruptible, because free, even though he had
not become corrupt, into the safety of union with the nature of
God. Human life, though pure from actual sin, would have been
aimless and hopeless without the Incarnation. And the human body
would have had no glory, for its glory is that Christ has taken it,
worn it awhile in its imperfect state, laid it aside and finally
resumed it in its perfection. All this He must have done, in
accordance with God’s purpose, even though the Fall had never
occurred. Hence the Incarnation and the Resurrection are the
facts of paramount interest; the death of Christ, corresponding as it
does to the hypothetical laying aside of the unglorified flesh, loses
something of its usual prominence in Christian thought. It is
represented as being primarily for Christ the moment of transition, for
the Christian the act which enables him to profit by the Incarnation;
but it is the Incarnation itself whereby, in Hilary’s words, we
are saved into the nature and the name of God. But though we may
feel that this great truth is not stated in its full impressiveness, we
must allow that the thought which has taken the foremost place is no
mere academic speculation. And, after all, sin and the Atonement
are copiously treated in his writings, though they do not control his
exposition of the Incarnation. Yet even in this there are large
spaces of his argument where these considerations have a place, though
only to give local colour, so to speak, and a sense of reality to the
description of a purpose formed and a work done for man because he is
man, not because he is fallen. But if Hilary has somewhat erred
in placing the Cross in the background, he is not in error in
magnifying the scope of the reconciliation452
which includes it as in a wider horizon. Man has in Christ the
nature of God; the infinite Mind is intelligible to the finite.
The Creeds are no dry statement of facts which do not touch our life;
the truths they contain are the revelation of God’s self to
us. Not for the pleasure of weaving theories, but in the
interests of practical piety, Hilary has fused belief and conduct into
the unity of that knowledge which Isaiah foresaw and St. John
possessed; the knowledge which is not a means towards life, but life
itself.E.C.F. INDEX & SEARCH
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