On the Trinity, Book 5

I now begin to speak about subjects that no one, or at least I myself, can fully express as they are thought; even our thought about God the Trinity falls, as we feel, far short of the One we think about and does not comprehend Him as He is; as Scripture says, even people as great as the Apostle Paul see Him “through a mirror and in a riddle.” First I pray to our Lord God Himself, of whom we should always think, yet cannot think worthily, whom we should always praise and bless, yet no speech can adequately describe, to help me understand and explain what I intend, and forgive me if I go wrong in anything. I keep in mind not only my desire but also my weakness. I also ask my readers’ pardon if they see that I wanted but lacked the ability to express what they either understand better themselves or fail to understand because my language is obscure, just as I pardon what they cannot understand because of their own dullness. We will forgive one another more easily if we know, or at least firmly believe and maintain, that whatever is said of an unchanging, invisible nature that possesses life absolutely and is sufficient to itself, must not be measured by the usual standards of visible, changeable, mortal, or dependent things. Although we struggle and still fail to grasp and know even those things which are within the scope of our bodily senses, or what we ourselves are inwardly, faithful devotion is not shameless in burning with desire for the divine and inexpressible things above: devotion, I mean, not inflated by arrogant confidence in its own power, but set on fire by the grace of its Creator and Savior Himself. With what understanding can a person grasp God without yet grasping the very understanding by which he wants to grasp Him? If he already grasps this, let him carefully consider that there is nothing in his own nature better than it; and let him see whether he can find there any outlines of shapes, or brightness of colors, or vastness of space, or separation of parts, or extension in size, or any movements through intervals of place, or anything like that at all. We certainly find none of this in what we find best in our own nature, that is, in our own intellect, by which we grasp wisdom according to our capacity. We should therefore not seek in the One far better than our own best what we do not find even in our own best; so that, if we can and as far as we can, we may understand God as good without quality, great without quantity, a creator although He lacks nothing, present without position, sustaining all things without “having” them, in His wholeness everywhere, yet without place, eternal without time, making changeable things without changing Himself and without being acted upon. Whoever thinks of God in this way, although still unable to discover fully what He is, devoutly takes as much care as possible to think nothing of Him that He is not.

He is undoubtedly a substance, or an essence, if that is the better term, which the Greeks call οὐσία . Just as wisdom is named from being wise, and knowledge from knowing, so from being comes that which we call essence. And who exists more truly than the One who said to His servant Moses, “I am that I am;” and, “This is what you shall tell the Israelites: He who is has sent me to you?” But other things that are called essences or substances admit accidents, which produce changes in them, great or small. But there can be no accident of this kind in God; and therefore He who is God is the only unchangeable substance or essence, to whom being itself, from which the name essence comes, belongs most especially and most truly. What changes does not retain its own being; and what can change, even without actually changing, can cease to be what it was; therefore only what neither changes nor can change at all most truly belongs, without difficulty or hesitation, to the category of being.

Let us now begin answering our faith’s opponents about these things, which are neither expressed as they are thought nor thought as they really are. Among the many arguments the Arians regularly bring against the Catholic faith, they seem to present this as their cleverest device: whatever is said or understood of God is said according to substance rather than accident; therefore being unbegotten belongs to the Father according to substance, and being begotten belongs to the Son according to substance; but being unbegotten and being begotten differ; therefore the substance of the Father and that of the Son are different. We reply: If whatever is spoken of God is spoken according to substance, then the statement, “I and the Father are one,” is spoken according to substance. Therefore there is one substance of the Father and the Son. Or if this is not said according to substance, something is said of God apart from substance, and therefore we are no longer required to understand unbegotten and begotten according to substance. It is also said of the Son, “He did not consider equality with God robbery.” We ask: equal according to what? For if He is not said to be equal according to substance, then they admit that something may be said of God not according to substance. Let them admit, then, that unbegotten and begotten are not spoken according to substance. And if they do not admit this, because they insist that everything said of God concerns substance, then the Son is equal to the Father according to substance.

An accidental attribute normally implies that it can be lost through some change in the thing to which it belongs. For although some accidents are said to be inseparable, which in Greek are called ἀχώριστα, as blackness belongs to a raven’s feather; the feather nevertheless loses that color, not while it remains a feather, but because it does not remain a feather forever. The matter itself is therefore changeable; and whenever that animal or that feather ceases to be, and the whole of that body is changed and turned into earth, it certainly loses that color too. Even the kind of accident called separable may likewise be lost, not by separation, but by change; for example, blackness is called a separable accident of human hair, because hair can turn white while remaining hair; yet careful consideration makes it clear that nothing separates and leaves the head when hair turns white, as though blackness left for somewhere else and whiteness replaced it, but the quality of its color is transformed and changed. Therefore there is nothing accidental in God, because there is nothing changeable or that can be lost. If you also choose to call accidental what cannot be lost but can decrease or increase — for example, the life of the soul: for as long as it is a soul it lives, and because the soul always exists it always lives; but because it lives more when it is wise, and less when it is foolish, here too a change occurs, not making life absent, as wisdom is absent in the foolish, but making it less — nothing like this happens to God either, because He remains entirely unchanging.

Therefore nothing is said of Him as an accident, because nothing is accidental to Him, yet not everything said of Him concerns substance. For in created and changeable things, what is not said according to substance must necessarily be said according to accident. Everything that can be lost or diminished is accidental to them, whether magnitudes or qualities; as is what is said in relation to something else, as friendships, relationships, services, likenesses, equalities, and anything else of the kind; so also positions and conditions, places and times, actions and being acted upon. But in God nothing is said to be according to accident, because in Him nothing is changeable; yet not everything said of Him concerns substance. For something is said in relation to another, as the Father in relation to the Son and the Son in relation to the Father, and this is not an accident; because the one is always Father and the other always Son: yet not “always,” meaning from the time when the Son was born [natus], as though the Father never ceases being Father because the Son never ceases being Son, but because the Son was always born and never began being Son. If at any time He had begun or were to cease being Son, then He would be called Son according to accident. But if the Father, as Father, were so called in relation to Himself, not to the Son; and the Son, as Son, were so called in relation to Himself, not to the Father; then both the one would be called Father, and the other Son, according to substance. But the Father is called Father only because He has a Son, and the Son is called Son only because He has a Father, so these terms do not concern substance; neither is so named in relation to Himself, but the terms are reciprocal and refer each to the other; nor do they concern accident, because being called Father and being called Son are eternal and unchanging for them. Therefore, although being Father differs from being Son, yet their substance is not different; because they are so called, not according to substance, but according to relation, a relation that is not an accident, because it is not changeable.

But suppose they think they can answer this reasoning as follows: the Father is called Father in relation to the Son, and the Son in relation to the Father, but unbegotten and begotten refer to themselves, not to each other; it is not the same to call Him unbegotten as it is to call Him the Father, because nothing would prevent us from calling Him unbegotten even if He had not begotten the Son; and if someone begets a son, that does not make him unbegotten, since people begotten by others themselves beget others; and therefore they say the Father is called Father in relation to the Son, and the Son is called Son in relation to the Father, but unbegotten refers to the Father Himself, and begotten to the Son Himself; and therefore, if whatever is said in relation to oneself is said according to substance, and being unbegotten differs from being begotten, then the substance is different:— if this is their argument, they do not understand that what they say does require more careful discussion about the term unbegotten, since no one is a father because he is unbegotten, or unbegotten because he is a father, and for that reason he is supposed to be called unbegotten, not in relation to anything else, but with respect to himself; but, on the other hand, with astonishing blindness, they fail to see that no one can be said to be begotten except in relation to something. He is a son because he is begotten, and because he is a son he is certainly begotten. And as is the relation of son to father, so is the relation of the begotten to the begetter; and as is the relation of father to son, so is the relation of the begetter to the begotten. Someone is therefore understood as begetter in one sense and unbegotten in another. For though both are said of God the Father, yet the former is said in relation to the begotten, that is to the Son, which they do not deny; but that He is called unbegotten, they declare to be said with respect to Himself. They therefore say: If anything is said to be a father in respect to itself, and cannot be called a son in respect to itself, and whatever is said in respect to self is said according to substance; and He is said to be unbegotten in respect to Himself, which the Son cannot be called; therefore He is said to be unbegotten according to substance; and because the Son cannot be called this, therefore He is not of the same substance. We must answer this subtle argument by requiring them to say in what respect the Son is equal to the Father; whether according to that which is said in relation to Himself, or according to that which is said in relation to the Father. It is not according to what is said in relation to the Father, since in relation to the Father He is said to be Son, and the Father is not Son, but Father. Father and Son do not relate to each other in the way friends and neighbors do; a friend is named in relation to his friend, and if they love each other equally, then the same friendship is in both; and a neighbor is named in relation to a neighbor, and because they are equally neighbors to each other (for each is neighbor to the other, to the same degree as the other is neighbor to him), there is the same neighborhood in both. But the Son is so called in relation to the Father, not the Son. Therefore it is not according to that which is said in relation to the Father that the Son is equal to the Father; so He must be equal according to what is said in relation to Himself. But whatever is said in relation to self is said according to substance: He must therefore be equal according to substance; therefore the substance of both is the same. Calling the Father unbegotten says what He is not, rather than what He is; and denying a relative term does not deny something according to substance, since the relative term itself does not affirm something according to substance.

Examples will make this clear. First we must notice that begotten means the same thing as son. Someone is a son because he is begotten, and because he is a son he is certainly begotten. The word unbegotten therefore declares that he is not a son. Both begotten and unbegotten are suitable terms; whereas in Latin we can use the word “filius,” but the custom of the language does not allow us to speak of “infilius.” The meaning does not change, however, if he is called “non filius;” just as it is precisely the same thing if he is called “non genitus,” instead of “ingenitus.” For so both neighbor and friend are relative terms, yet we cannot speak of “invicinus” as we can of “inimicus.” Therefore, when speaking about anything, we must not consider what our own language’s usage allows or forbids, but what the things themselves clearly mean. Let us therefore stop calling it unbegotten, although it can be so called in Latin; and instead call it not begotten, which means the same. Does this mean anything other than saying he is not a son? Adding that negative particle does not make a statement concern substance when without it the statement concerns relation; it only denies what was affirmed without it, as in the other categories. When we say he is a man, we denote substance. Someone who says he is not a man therefore uses no other category, but simply denies that statement. Just as I affirm according to substance in saying he is a man, so I deny according to substance in saying he is not a man. When asked how tall he is, if I say he is four feet in height, I affirm according to quantity, and someone who says he is not four feet tall denies according to quantity. I say he is white, I affirm according to quality; if I say he is not white, I deny according to quality. I say he is near, I affirm according to relation; if I say he is not near, I deny according to relation. I affirm according to position, when I say he is lying down; I deny according to position, when I say he is not lying down. I speak according to condition, when I say he is armed; I deny according to condition, when I say he is not armed; and it comes to the same thing as saying he is unarmed. I affirm according to time, when I say he existed yesterday; I deny according to time, when I say he did not exist yesterday. And when I say he is at Rome, I affirm according to place; and I deny according to place, when I say he is not at Rome. I affirm according to the category of action, when I say he strikes; but if I say he does not strike, I deny according to action, declaring that he does not act in that way. And when I say he is struck, I affirm according to the category of being acted upon; and I deny according to the same, when I say he is not struck. In a word, whatever category we choose for an affirmation, we necessarily deny according to the same category when we prefix the negative particle. Since this is so, if I were to affirm according to substance, in saying son, I would deny according to substance, in saying not son. But because I affirm relatively when I say he is a son, for I refer to the father, I therefore deny relatively if I say he is not a son, for I refer the same negation to the father, meaning that he has no parent. But if to be called son is precisely equivalent to being called begotten (as we said before), then to be called not begotten is precisely equivalent to being called not son. But we deny relatively when we say he is not son, therefore we deny relatively when we say he is not begotten. Further, what does unbegotten mean except not begotten? We therefore do not leave the category of relation when he is called unbegotten. For as begotten is not said in relation to self, but because he is from a begetter; so when one is called unbegotten, he is not so called in relation to himself, but it is declared that he is not from a begetter. Both meanings concern the same category, called relation. But what is asserted relatively does not denote substance, and accordingly, although begotten and unbegotten differ, they do not denote a different substance; because, as son is referred to father, and not son to not father, it necessarily follows that begotten must be referred to begetter, and not-begotten to not-begetter.

Therefore let us hold above all that whatever is said of that supremely exalted divine nature with respect to itself is said in respect to substance, but what is said in relation to something else is not said in respect to substance, but relatively; and that because Father, Son, and Holy Spirit share the same substance, whatever is said of each with respect to themselves must be understood collectively in the singular, rather than the plural. For as the Father is God, and the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God, which no one doubts concerns substance, yet we do not say that the supreme Trinity itself is three Gods, but one God. So the Father is great, the Son great, and the Holy Spirit great; yet not three great beings, but one great being. For it is not written of the Father alone, as they wrongly suppose, but of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, “You are great: You are God alone.” And the Father is good, the Son good, and the Holy Spirit good; yet not three good beings, but one good being, of whom it is said, “No one is good except one, that is, God.” The Lord Jesus, to keep the one who said “Good Master,” from understanding Him as only a man addressed in this way, therefore does not say, No one is good except the Father alone; but, “No one is good except one, that is, God.” The name Father indicates the Father alone; the name God indicates both Him and the Son and the Holy Spirit, because the Trinity is one God. But position, and condition, and places, and times, are not said of God literally, but metaphorically through likenesses. For He is both said to sit above the cherubim, which is spoken in respect to position; and to be covered with the deep as with a garment, which is said in respect to condition; and “Your years will have no end,” which is said in respect of time; and, “If I ascend into heaven, You are there,” which is said in respect to place. As for action (or making), perhaps it can be said most truly of God alone, for God alone makes and Himself is not made. Nor can He be acted upon in the substance by which He is God. So the Father is almighty, the Son almighty, and the Holy Spirit is almighty; yet not three almighty beings, but one almighty being: “For of Him are all things, and through Him are all things, and in Him are all things; to whom be glory.” Whatever is said of God with respect to Himself is therefore said both of each person individually, that is, of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit; and of the Trinity together, in the singular rather than the plural. For God, existing is not one thing and being great another; existing and being great are the same for Him; therefore, as we do not say three essences, so we do not say three greatnesses, but one essence and one greatness. I say essence, which in Greek is called οὐσία, and which we more commonly call substance. They also use the word hypostasis; but they intend some difference, which I do not understand, between οὐσία and hypostasis: so that most of our writers who discuss these things in Greek usually say, μίαν οὐσίαν, τρεῖς ὑποστάσεις or in Latin, one essence, three substances.

But among us essence has already come to mean the same thing as substance; we do not dare to say one essence, three substances, but one essence or substance and three persons: as many authoritative Latin writers discussing these things have said, because they could find no better way to express in words what they understood without words. For in fact, as the Father is not the Son, and the Son is not the Father, and that Holy Spirit who is also called the gift of God is neither the Father nor the Son, certainly they are three. That is why the plural is used: “I and my Father are one.” For He did not say, “is one,” as the Sabellians say; but “are one.” Yet, when the question is asked, What three? human language struggles with an utter poverty of expression. The answer, however, is given, three “persons,” so that it will not be left [wholly] unspoken, rather than so that it may be [completely] expressed.

As, therefore, we do not say three essences, so we do not say three greatnesses, or three who are great. For things that are great by sharing in greatness, existing is one thing and being great another, as with a great house, mountain, or mind; in these things, I say, greatness is one thing, and what is great through greatness is another, and a great house is certainly not greatness itself in the absolute sense. Absolute greatness is that through which not only a great house is great, and any great mountain is great, but also by which everything else called great is great; so that greatness itself is one thing, and the things called great through it are another. And this greatness certainly is primarily great, and in a far more excellent way than things great through sharing in it. But God is not great through a greatness other than Himself, as though He shared in that greatness by being great — otherwise that greatness would be greater than God, and there is nothing greater than God; He is therefore great through the greatness that He Himself is. And, therefore, as we do not say three essences, so neither do we say three greatnesses; for existing and being great are the same thing for God. For the same reason we do not say three great beings, but one who is great; since God is not great by sharing in greatness, but by Himself being great, because He Himself is His own greatness. The same applies to God’s goodness, eternity, and almighty power, and, in short, to every category that can be asserted of God when speaking of Him with respect to Himself, literally rather than metaphorically through likenesses, if human speech can say anything of Him literally.

Some things, however, are asserted specifically of individual persons in this same Trinity; these do not refer to those persons in themselves, but either to each other or to creation; and, therefore, such statements clearly concern relation rather than substance. For the Trinity is called one God, great, good, eternal, almighty; and the same God Himself may be called His own deity, His own greatness, His own goodness, His own eternity, His own almighty power: but the Trinity cannot in the same way be called the Father, except perhaps metaphorically, in relation to creation, because of the adoption of children. For the scriptural words, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord your God is one Lord,” certainly should not be understood as excluding the Son or the Holy Spirit; we rightly also call this one Lord our God our Father, since He gives us new birth through His grace. The Trinity cannot in any way be called the Son, but it can be called, in its entirety, the Holy Spirit, as it is written, “God is a Spirit;” because both the Father is a spirit and the Son is a spirit, and the Father is holy and the Son is holy. Therefore, since the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are one God, and certainly God is holy, and God is a spirit, the Trinity can also be called the Holy Spirit. But the Holy Spirit who is understood as being in the Trinity, rather than being the Trinity, is named relatively by His specific name Holy Spirit, since He is referred both to the Father and to the Son, because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit both of the Father and of the Son. The relation is not apparent in that name, but becomes apparent when He is called the gift of God; for He is the gift of the Father and of the Son, because “He proceeds from the Father,” as the Lord says; and the apostle’s words, “If anyone does not have Christ’s Spirit, he does not belong to Him,” certainly refer to the Holy Spirit Himself. When we say, therefore, the gift of the giver, and the giver of the gift, both expressions are relative and reciprocal. Therefore the Holy Spirit is an inexpressible communion of the Father and the Son; and perhaps for that reason, He is so called, because the same name is suitable to both the Father and the Son. For He is specifically called what they are called in common; because both the Father is a spirit and the Son a spirit, both the Father is holy and the Son holy. To signify their communion through a name suitable to both, the Holy Spirit is called the gift of both. And this Trinity is one God, alone, good, great, eternal, almighty; itself its own unity, deity, greatness, goodness, eternity, almighty power.

Nor should it trouble us — since we have said that the Holy Spirit is so called relatively, not the Trinity itself, but He who is in the Trinity — that the name of the One to whom He is referred does not seem to correspond reciprocally to His own name. We cannot use the same reciprocal wording here as in the servant of a master, and the master of a servant, the son of a father and the father of a son, even though these expressions concern relation. For we speak of the Holy Spirit of the Father; but, on the other hand, we do not speak of the Father of the Holy Spirit, so that the Holy Spirit will not be understood as His Son. So also we speak of the Holy Spirit of the Son; but we do not speak of the Son of the Holy Spirit, so that the Holy Spirit will not be understood as His Father. In many relations no term can be found through which the related things can correspond reciprocally [in name]. What word concerns relation more clearly than pledge? It refers to what it guarantees, and a pledge is always a pledge of something. Can we then, as we say, the pledge of the Father and of the Son, say in turn, the Father of the pledge or the Son of the pledge? But, on the other hand, when we say the gift of the Father and of the Son, we cannot indeed say the Father of the gift, or the Son of the gift; but to make these correspond reciprocally, we say the gift of the giver and the giver of the gift; because here ordinary usage supplies a word, while there it does not.

The name Father is therefore relative, and He is also called the Beginning relatively, as with any other such terms; but He is called the Father in relation to the Son, the Beginning in relation to all things, which are from Him. So the Son is relatively so called; He is called also relatively the Word and the Image. And in all these names He is referred to the Father, but the Father is called by none of them. And the Son is also called the Beginning; for when it was said to Him, “Who are You?” He replied, “The Beginning, I who also speak to you.” But is He, tell me, the Beginning of the Father? For He intended to show Himself to be the Creator when He said that He was the Beginning, as the Father also is the beginning of the creature because all things are from Him. Creator too is relative to creature, as master is to servant. And so when we say, both that the Father is the Beginning, and that the Son is the Beginning, we do not speak of two beginnings of the creature; since Father and Son together are one beginning with respect to creation, as one Creator, as one God. But if whatever remains within itself and produces or works anything is a beginning of what it produces or works, then we cannot deny that the Holy Spirit also is rightly called the Beginning, since we do not separate Him from the name Creator: and it is written of Him that He works; and in acting He certainly remains within Himself; for He is not Himself transformed or changed into anything He makes. See what He does: “But the manifestation of the Spirit,” he says, “is given to each person for their benefit. For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit; to another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit; to another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another the discerning of spirits; to another various kinds of languages: but one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each person individually as He wills;” certainly as God — for who can work such great things but God? — but “it is the same God who works all in all.” For if we are asked specifically about the Holy Spirit, we answer most truly that He is God; and with the Father and the Son together He is one God. Therefore, God is spoken of as one Beginning with respect to creation, not as two or three beginnings.

Within the Trinity’s own mutual relations, if the begetter is a beginning in relation to what he begets, the Father is a beginning in relation to the Son, because He begets Him; but whether the Father is also a beginning in relation to the Holy Spirit, since it is said, “He proceeds from the Father,” is an important question. Because, if it is so, He will be a beginning not only of what He begets or makes, but also of what He gives. Here too, as far as possible, the question emerges that often troubles many people: Why the Holy Spirit is not also a son, since He, too, comes forth from the Father, as we read in the Gospel. The Spirit came forth as given, rather than born; and so He is not called a son, because He was neither born, as the Only-begotten, nor made, so that by the grace of God He might be born into adoption, as we are. What is born of the Father refers only to the Father when called Son, and so the Son is the Son of the Father, and not also our Son; but what is given refers both to the One who gave it and to those who received it; and so the Holy Spirit is not only the Spirit of the Father and of the Son who gave Him, but He is also called ours, since we have received Him: as “The salvation of the Lord,” who gives salvation, is also called our salvation, since we have received it. Therefore, the Spirit is both the Spirit of God who gave Him, and ours who have received Him. Certainly not our own spirit by which we exist, because that is the spirit of a man which is in him; but this Spirit is ours in another way, the way in which we also say, “Give us our bread.” Although certainly we have received that spirit also, which is called the spirit of a man. “What do you have,” he says, “which you did not receive?” But what we received so that we might exist is one thing; what we received so that we might be holy is another. That is why it is also written of John, that he “came in the spirit and power of Elijah;” and by the spirit of Elijah is meant the Holy Spirit, whom Elijah received. The same should be understood of Moses, when the Lord says to him, “And I will take from your spirit and give it to them;” that is, I will give to them of the Holy Spirit, which I have already given to you. If what is given also has its giver as its beginning, since what proceeds from him comes from no other source, we must admit that the Father and the Son are a Beginning of the Holy Spirit, not two Beginnings; but as the Father and Son are one God, and one Creator, and one Lord in relation to creation, they are also one Beginning in relation to the Holy Spirit. But the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one Beginning with respect to creation, as also one Creator and one Lord.

A further question is whether, just as the Son through being born not only is the Son but has absolute existence, the Holy Spirit through being given not only is a gift but has absolute existence? Did He therefore exist before being given but was not yet a gift, or was He already a gift even before being given precisely because God was going to give Him? But if He proceeds only when given, and certainly could not proceed before someone existed to receive Him, how did He then exist [absolutely] in His very substance, if He exists only because He is given? For the Son, through being born, not only is a Son, a relative term, but has His very substance absolutely, so that He exists. Does the Holy Spirit always proceed, from eternity rather than in time, and because He proceeded with the capacity to be given, was He already a gift before anyone existed to receive Him? For there is a difference in meaning between a gift and a thing that has been given. For a gift may exist even before it is given; but it cannot be called a thing that has been given unless it has been given.

Nor should it trouble us that the Holy Spirit, although He is co-eternal with the Father and the Son, is nevertheless given a name that applies in time; for instance, the very name we have used for Him, a thing that has been given. For the Spirit is a gift eternally, but a thing that has been given in time. A lord too is only called a lord when he begins to have a slave, so that name likewise applies to God relatively and in time; for the creature whose Lord He is does not exist from all eternity. How then can we establish that relative terms themselves are not accidental, since nothing happens accidentally to God in time, because He is incapable of change, as we argued at the beginning of this discussion? Consider this: Being Lord does not belong to God eternally; otherwise we would have to say that the creature also exists from eternity, since He would not be a lord from all eternity unless the creature also was a servant from all eternity. But someone without a lord cannot be a slave, and someone without a slave cannot be a lord. If someone says that God, indeed, is alone eternal, and that times are not eternal because of their variety and changeability, but that times nevertheless did not begin in time (for there was no time before times began, and therefore it did not happen to God in time that He became Lord, since He was Lord of the very times themselves, which assuredly did not begin in time): what will that person say about humanity, made in time, whose Lord He certainly was not before humanity existed? God certainly became humanity’s Lord in time. To remove all apparent room for dispute, God certainly became your Lord or mine in time, since we only recently began to exist. If this too seems uncertain because of the obscure question about the soul, what is to be said of His being the Lord of the people of Israel? Since, although the nature of the soul already existed, which that people had (a matter into which we do not now inquire), those people did not yet exist, and the time when they began to exist is clear. Finally, He became Lord of this or that tree or crop of grain in time, since they only recently began to exist; since, although the matter itself already existed, yet it is one thing to be Lord of the matter (materiæ), another to be Lord of the nature already formed (naturæ). A person too is master of the wood at one time and master of a chest at another, although it is made from that same wood; he certainly was not master of the chest when he was already master of the wood. How can we establish that nothing is said of God according to accident, except because nothing happens to His nature that could change Him, while relative accidents occur in connection with some change in the things of which they are spoken? A friend, for example, is named relatively: for he only begins to be a friend when he begins to love; therefore some change of will takes place, for him to be called a friend. And money, when it is called a price, is spoken of relatively, and yet it did not change when it began to be a price; nor, again, when it is called a pledge, or any other thing of the kind. If money can so often be spoken of relatively without changing itself, so that neither beginning nor ceasing to be so named changes its nature or the form that makes it money, how much more readily should we admit of God’s unchanging substance that something can be asserted relatively with respect to creation, that although the assertion begins in time, nothing should be understood to have happened to God’s substance itself, but only to the creature to which it relates? “Lord,” it is said, “You have been made our refuge.” God, therefore, is said to be our refuge relatively, for He is referred to us, and He then becomes our refuge when we flee to Him; does anything then happen in His nature that did not exist before we fled to Him? Some change therefore takes place in us; for we were worse before we fled to Him, and we become better by fleeing to Him: but in Him there is no change. So also He begins to be our Father, when we are born anew through His grace, since He gave us power to become God’s children. Our substance therefore is changed for the better, when we become His children; and He at the same time begins to be our Father, but without any change of His own substance. What begins to be said of God in time, and was not said of Him before, clearly concerns relation; yet it concerns no accident in God, as though something had happened to Him, but clearly some accident in the thing to which God begins to be related by that name. When a righteous man begins to be a friend of God, he himself is changed; but we must never say that God loves anyone in time with a new love, as though it had not been in Him before, for with Him past things have not passed away and future things have already been done. Therefore He loved all His saints before the foundation of the world, as He predestined them; but when they are converted and find Him, then they are said to begin to be loved by Him, so that the statement is expressed in a way human feelings can understand. So also, when He is said to be angry with the unrighteous, and gentle with the good, they are changed, not He: just as light troubles weak eyes and pleases strong ones because of their change, rather than its own.