The Word of God and the Firmament's Purpose

I say this not to point to the power of the one expounding, but to the grace of what is written, which by its nature is readily received and is gentle and dear to every heart among those who prize truth above persuasion. The psalmist shows this sweetness that comes from truth most emphatically when he says, “How sweet are your words to my throat, sweeter than honey to my mouth” (Psalm 118:103 (LXX; Hebrew 119:103)). Yesterday, then, as far as we could, we gladdened your souls by dwelling on the words of God, and today we have met again on the second day to behold the wonders of the second day’s works. But I have not failed to notice that many craftsmen of the manual trades, who lovingly earn their food from their daily labor, have surrounded us and are shortening our discourse so that they are not drawn away from their work for long. What do I say to them? That the portion of time lent to God is not lost, but is repaid by him with great interest. For whatever circumstances produce distraction, the Lord will let these pass by, giving bodily strength, eagerness of soul, ease in dealings, and prosperity through the whole of life to those who make spiritual things their priority. And even if in the present our earnest efforts do not turn out according to our hopes, still for the age to come the teaching of the Spirit is a good treasure. So remove from your heart every care of life, and gather all of yourself here to me. For there is not any benefit in the body’s being present while your heart labors over an earthly treasure.

And God said, “Let a firmament come into being in the midst of the water, and let it separate water from water” (Genesis 1:6). Yesterday we already heard the words of God: “Let light come into being” (Genesis 1:3). And today: “Let a firmament come into being.” But the present words seem to have something more, because the word did not remain in the bare command alone, but also defined in addition the reason for which the construction of the firmament is required. “So that it may separate,” he says, “between water and water.” First, then, let us take up the question of how God speaks. Is it in our manner—first the impression from things arises in the understanding, then after imagining it, he selects from the underlying realities the proper and fitting signs of each and declares them, then hands over what has been understood to the service of the vocal organs, and so through the impression made on the air, by the articulate movement of the voice, makes the thought known secretly? And how is it not mythical to say that God needs such a roundabout way for the declaration of what he has understood? Or is it more reverent to say that the divine will and the first impulse of the intellectual movement—this is the Word of God? Scripture shapes him in a discursive way in order to show that he not only willed the creation to come into being, but also that it was brought into being through some co-worker. For it could have, as it said from the beginning, gone through all things: “In the beginning God made the heaven and the earth” (Genesis 1:1); then, “He made light”; then, “He made the firmament.” But now, by introducing God commanding and speaking, it hints at the one to whom he commands and to whom he speaks, in what is left silent—not begrudging us the knowledge, but kindling us toward desire, through the traces and indications it suggests of the ineffable.