cned when the purpose of his striving is not to wean him self from this nourishment, but to accustom himself to it. When the demands of life exceed the judgment of ex- perience, then life becomes confused and comfortless, un- less the expectation of an eternal happiness regulates and calms it. When it is demanded of the rich young man that he shall go away and sell all of his goods and give the money to the poor, then experience does not know how to help; for the demand was not for just a part of his wealth. And if there was someone of whom it was not re- quired that he must sell everything in order to become perfect, since his possession was of such a quality that hardly any one would buy it from him, then what does experience know about it? And he who does not need first to go and bury the dead because they were buried long ago, but whose sorrow has only increased with the years, what support does experience have for him, if the thought does not comfort him that there are always more born than die? And if there is a solitary pain, which indeed gnaws deepest, the experience of another will not comfort the sufferer, for he does not hear the shriek of anguish, and even if he heard it, he could not judge the intensity of the pain by the shriek; his own experience will not help him, for that is why the shriek was stifled, because the pain could not be understood. And he whose mouth was bound as not even the mouths of the oxen were bound that threshed out the grain for others; and he whose soul was anxious, even when he made others glad; and the one, the door of whose lips was locked, even if he knew that his words would attract the attention of the curious, but scarcely gain him sympathy in the pain— how will expe- rience be able to comfort him? But the expectation of an eternal happiness consoles beyond all measure.
ETERNAL HAPPINESS 125 There is a covenant of tears with God, and this cove- lant is not seen, is not heard except by the One who sees in secret and understands from afar; but he is in a cove- nant of eternal happiness with the God who will dry all :ears. And there is a fellowship of suffering with God, whose secret is the assurance of an eternal happiness in :onfidence with God.— An eternal happiness hereafter? Do you ask, my hearer, what this is and what it will bring? [s it not enough for you that it is even here able to make :he affliction brief and light, that it is able to join your mxious soul to the inward joy, inseparably, like every- ;hing which God has joined together, fruitfully, like the :ovenant God Himself has blessed?
The expectation of an eternal happiness will reconcile wery man with his neighbor, with his friend, and with his enemy in understanding of the essential. The child wants everything it sees, and the youth is not much bet- :er; he wants everything to accommodate itself to him, ind the whole world to humor his wishes. But experience mows how to shift and divide; it makes a difference be- tween mine and thine; it gives to the king what belongs ;o the king, to his neighbor what belongs to him, to his memy his due, and retains its own. For this reason we Draise experience, that it has thus arranged life which in he realm of temporal existence passes in sheer reciproc- ty. Perhaps many a human life is thus tirelessly engaged jintil it is finished with temporal existence. But if it is Dassed in this way, then is such a life merely wretched, lowever much it is bedizened; petty, whether it occupies itself with millions or with pennies; pitiful as a childish jame, if it ought to be earnest. It indicates that if human life wishes to pass in this way, then it is fortunate if dis- :ress and danger interrupt this monotonous security, in 126 which the nobler and better qualities of a man sink down in lethargy, as if under a spell.
When the common danger stands at every man's door alike, when a common misfortune teaches men to co- operate, and impresses upon them the need of compro- mise, then it is indeed seen how they are reconciled by an understanding of the common danger, and how this rec- onciliation benefits them collectively and individually. But when the danger is past and the misfortune blows over, then they return only too soon to the old mode of living, and the compromise forced upon them through necessity sometimes bears within itself the germ of a more profound disunity than that which had been thrust aside. And even if that reconciliation casts a beautifying radi- ance over a period of the individual's life, it still does not really belong to him but to the one who reflects upon it, and to the observer who succeeds to the reflection, until the story about it is also forgotten.
Even if it is attractive to look at, such a life still belongs to the temporal existence, is the fruit of the temporal existence, but is also the prey of the temporal existence, and the most one can say of it is that it was a beautiful moment. But this beautiful moment of the temporal ex- istence is still, in comparison with the eternal, only like the brief, silvery gleam of counterfeit metal. On the contrary, he whose soul expects an eternal happiness, has always present in himself that which is valid in itself, and against which all the petty appears as the petty. He is constantly influenced by an aspiration which does not bring him into conflict with anyone, or with anything earthly, whose possession does not exclude anyone else. That is, he can lose the earthly, and if he loses it in the right way, then its loss will make the difficult easier, so ETERNAL HAPPINESS 127 hat a camel can go through the eye of a needle; and he nil not wish to exclude anyone, if he himself is anxious n the right way.
"While we look not at the things seen, but at the things lot seen, for the things seen are temporal, but the things lot seen are eternal." These are the apostle's words we ead at the beginning of this discourse, and so we may /ell go on. While ordinarily one leaves the happiness of leaven for a later consideration as to what it may some- ime be, it would doubtless be better to do this in the ase of the earthly and temporal things, to let them pass or what they are, and not consider them. For he who egards the temporal will gradually become incapable of onsidering the eternal, and he in whose sight the earthly •ecomes too important, will gradually lose the ability to rize the heavenly. But the things seen are temporal; and he temporal is not only perishable, but it is at variance /ith itself, and therefore it must be dissolved and cannot ndure. This is why his treasure causes pain to the miser ven while he is gathering it; pain while he possesses it; ain when he must abandon it. This is why the prodigal :atters without pleasure what the stingy hoards without 3y; this is why the new wine bursts the old containers; his is why forgetfulness wipes out the vain achievements, s well as the great toil and sorrow through which a man elieves that he attains importance; this is why time onsumes the earthly affection and even the hate, which, owerless as it is, would brave its way into eternity. But e who turns away from the temporal to the eternal, and > concerned for his own eternal happiness, he is recon- iled with himself, and reconciled with everyone. For he eternal is always in harmony with itself, and its har- riony excludes only that which excludes itself.
128 Still "concerned for his own eternal happiness"— is this expectation not a new burden one assumes, instead of being the eternal medicine which heals all sickness, even when it is unto death? Sometimes men have chosen another kind of certainty than that of concern. They employed a particular criterion, drew up conditions, and through the help of these they were assured of eternal happiness, in the same way that one is assured that what he holds in his hand exists. They did not notice that this temporal assurance was only an illusion; they did not notice that they "hung eternity in a cobweb"; they did not notice that it was a bird in the hand they had caught, a bird which wanted to fly. But while, because of this great certainty, they forfeited more and more the eternal happiness, they won — the right to let the determinations be decisive for others, the right to exclude others. Let them retain this right; it would still be, in truth, the most distressing misunderstanding, if a man in his zeal to ex- clude others is so soothed by the idea that he does not even dream that he is himself excluded. What wonder, then, that the temporal existence again delighted in its rights, that hate and wrath and earthly partiality and worldly considerations again intruded on the eternal to set it at odds with itself and make it contentious! Who is not terrified by such perversity? For my part, I have al- ways tried in vain to understand it.
But, still, let us earnestly consider this matter; for the bliss of heaven is and continues to be the decision which decides everything. Moreover, even if the concern did not procure for a man the humble entrance into heaven, it would still be worth while to strive after it, so that there may still be an inwardness, a holy of holies in the soul, where consciousness draws back, abandons the world, ETERNAL HAPPINESS 129 shuts itself into itself, becomes reconciled with itself and thereby with the inequalities of life; an enclosure where finite thoughts, insofar as they presumptuously wish to push themselves in, are found overthrown (like the statue 3f Dagon before the ark of the covenant) before the sub- limity of the concern which is solely concerned about it in its validity, as the expectation is not, which would triumphantly enter heaven, and wishes that its festal entrance shall be decisive for others.
Insofar as that distressing misunderstanding, "which Decame a prey to worldly wisdom," was due to the fact :hat it joined the bliss of heaven to finite conditions, it night perhaps again seem, through a misunderstanding, :hat the thoughtlessness, the careless foolhardiness which s not troubled by any condition, might be preferable. However, this is very far from being the case, and we are igreed that everyone who is without concern, is once and For all excluded from considering a matter for whose con- •ideration concern affords the only approach. That mis- understanding, then, did not lie in the fact that one ac- cepted the conditions, but in the fact that the concern for discovering these conditions was so quickly satisfied :hat the individual even gained time and opportunity and purpose to decide the question for others concerned. And yet, as soon as the concern ceases, the individual to whom this happens is excluded from the reflection. On ;he other hand, the one who is truly concerned under- stands very well that there must be a condition, but finite- ly he will never be able to fathom this; for the concern prevents a finite understanding. Even when he has con- sidered it most intensively, he must still confess that from a finite standpoint he cannot decide what the conditions are; for it is precisely the finite which the anxiety takes i3o from him. In everything he finds out there will always be a residuum of uncertainty, and this uncertainty nour- ishes the concern, and the concern nourishes the uncer- tainty. This uncertainty may be expressed in this way— that he expects eternal happiness by the grace of God. But, again, he expects God's grace, not by virtue of some finite condition; for then it is not grace, and then, too, the concern will soon transform itself into earthly con- fidence. If he is now constantly concerned in this way, but also constantly saved through grace; if he constantly per- ceives that it would be a distressing sign if the concern should cease, how could he ever get enough vain assurance to decide this question for another?
Still, suppose, too, that there were certain conditions which one could accurately state in words, and by means of which the observant thought might test what the con- dition of the individual was, how could he, if he was again concerned (and if he were not, then everything would be vanity), how could he ever with finite certainty decide whether these conditions were present within him? These conditions being then acts, definite conceptions, moods, who knows himself so intimately that on his own respon- sibility he would dare to vouch that these conditions were present in himself just as they ought to be, not bastard children of doubtful parentage! Who could do this if he were truly concerned, and who must not be truly con- cerned if he would consider the question seriously! But if an uncertainty constantly remains behind in his soul, on account of which he must take refuge in grace, how could it then occur to him to wish to decide this question for others? For before one begins on others, one must first be absolutely certain himself. But whoever through grace is absolutely certain, something we indeed wish for the ETERNAL HAPPINESS 131 individual, he is, humanly speaking, absolutely uncertain. Let us for a moment speak metaphorically, and through the imperfection of the metaphor direct attention to that eternal validity of which we speak. There is sometimes found in an army a little selected group which is called the band of the immortals, and in time of war it is re- garded as a great honor to be selected to belong to it. Suppose now there were a man (we know very well that this is an unhappy aberration which never happened, and I hope nothing similar ever will happen) whom the thought of being chosen for this group occupied as much as the thought of inheriting the eternal happiness of heaven ought to concern everyone. The conditions for eligibility were familiar to everyone: there was required prowess in battle, but in addition there were certain ex- ternal conditions— a stipulated height, physique, and so on. He must then prove whether he satisfies all these re- quirements, not in general, not in a slip-shod manner, for he was too concerned for that, and he knew that if he lacked the slightest of these requirements, he would be rejected. And the question as to whether something was lacking, or whether everything was present in the right proportion, would be decided by the commander of the army on his own judgment. On his own judgment; for all the conditions might be separately present, but not united in that vital harmony which determined the choice. I think this judgment might well become to him the unrest of concern. Suppose, however, that he felt per- fectly confident, but we still do not forget that he was as much concerned about this selection as a man ought to be about the eternal happiness of heaven. One difficulty would still remain. The choice was not to be made im- mediately; he must wait several days. What might not 132 happen during these days! And even if these passed with- out any bad luck, yet suppose at the moment he entered the palace of the commander he should happen to stum- ble! I wonder if such a man would have the time or the opportunity or the disposition to go around and observe the other candidates in order to see whether they might fitly be chosen for this band. I wonder if in his deep con- cern he would understand that to have been almost se- lected was still a rejection. Would he not with deep con- cern realize this, if he was as much concerned about being selected for this group as every man ought to be about inheriting the eternal happiness of heaven?
Still, even if a man knew the conditions to the last let- ter, and understood that he fulfilled them unequivocally (let us assume this)— still would he have time and oppor- tunity and serenity of mind enough to wish to decide the question for others? How? Is not the happiness of heaven so great a good that it needs no augmentation through any external circumstance? He who possesses eternal hap- piness can neither wish to become happier through some irrelevant thought, nor to be disturbed in his happiness by any irrelevant thought. So if a man who believes that his own eternal happiness is assured, nevertheless con- siders some such thing, it indubitably proves that he is not considering eternal happiness. And, just as the con- sciousness of having done a good deed may cause one to lose the reward, so this irrelevant thought may well cause a man to lose his eternal happiness. One who was himself concerned would scarcely wish to exclude anyone; but would he, perhaps, as is sometimes suggested, be sympa- thetic enough to wish another chosen? Oh, spare your sympathy for a better cause, and if you can do anything for a man, then do it, modestly as is becoming to you, for ETERNAL HAPPINESS 133 we are all unprofitable servants, and even our benefac- tions are only human inventions, frail and very ambigu- ous.
However every man acquires the eternal happiness of heaven only through God's mercy and grace, and this is equally near every man, so near, that it is a matter be- tween God and himself. And let no third party who has himself received grace mar this by unwarranted med- dling.
Even if there were a man (something I truly have not experienced) who embittered my life for me early and late, and made me think evil of everything, should it disturb my eternal happiness if he, too, were saved? Or should I be vain enough to wish to assist him by my sympathy! Oh, the concern about an eternal happiness! It turns the thoughts away from all unseasonable con- siderations! Even if there was someone who had borne the heat and toil of the day, and if I were not called until the eleventh hour, and our wage proved to be the same, I wonder if it would disturb him, when he considered that the compensation was eternal salvation! He indeed had richly and in abundance, nor would he get more by my being excluded. And if there was a righteous man who from his youth up had kept the commandments, and throughout a long life had expected the eternal happiness of heaven (which truly is a rarely honorable distinction), and I were a robber who "yet today," hence at that very instant, had come as far as he: I wonder if that would be able to disturb him. Certainly, if I were to believe that it was because of my worthiness, then it might indeed offend him, and offend heaven itself, so that I should again be thrust out. But if I am now willing, with the observance of all the forms and without any mental reser- 134 vations, to confess that it was through grace, I wonder if that righteous man would continue to be so unfair, not to me, for I had certainly been admitted— but to himself through retaining his anger. And if there were, not what one in the more exact sense calls so, but what in the plain daily speech one rightly calls a simple man, and you, on the contrary, my hearer, were a wise man who profound- ly asked, "What is truth," and restlessly meditated upon the question with ability and success— I wonder if it could disturb you that he became equally as happy as you, and that the infinite happiness of heaven made you both equal.
Certainly, when you come to die, then there will be a difference; then it will be said, and said with reason, that learning sorrows, and its votaries deplore the loss. And your funeral will be different, for it is a beautiful custom that men clothe the dead in his best apparel; but still the question is whether death will not reclothe him. And if it should be what we call a husband, a man who had lived happily with his wife and had begotten children by her in contentment, who had let his heart rejoice with other men, but had seldom been stirred by thoughts which have made you oblivious to everything by day, and which have kept sleep from your eyes at night: I wonder if it would disturb you if he became as happy as you. "Oh, if God held all truth in His right hand, and in His left the eternal striving"— no, if God held in His right hand eter- nal happiness, and in His left also the concern which had become your life's content, would not you yourself choose the left, even if you still became like one who chose the right? There must still be an equality, and what is indeed more disheartening than the equality to which men some- times flee, the equality of death, which makes all equally ETERNAL HAPPINESS 135 poor; and what is more blessed than the equality which makes all equally happy?
Is this not so, my hearer? And because of this you said to God in your heart: "Father in heaven, when I consider the matter of my eternal happiness, then I do not bring out the reckoning; for I know, indeed, that I cannot an- swer one to a thousand, and I also know that Peter stood more securely upon the waves of the sea, than does the one who stands on his own righteousness against Thee. And I will not build my eternal happiness on any deed I may have done, not even the best, for only Thou dost know whether it was a good deed; and not upon the best that I might do, for only Thou dost know whether it might become a good deed. Preserve, then, my soul from the pettiness that would disparage Thee and Thy gift, disparage myself by making myself greater than others. Preserve my soul from the reflection which would pene- trate what is not given me to understand. Tear out from my soul the sophistry which cunningly takes the best and leaves me the poorer. What as a child I did easily and nat- urally, in that I believed without understanding; what I have done later, have done, I know, have believed a man against reason; what I shall continue to do, even if being clever is commended more highly than believing; what I shall strive to do with all my might, so that the glory of the intellect shall not deceive me and injure my soul: should I not be willing to do it for Thee; should I not, since I can still do nothing of myself, wish for con- cern and confidence and sincerity in believing Thee, and in this faith expect Thy eternal happiness!"
VII MAN'S NEED OF GOD CONSTITUTES HIS HIGHEST PERFECTION MAN wants but little here below, nor wants that little long" is a high-minded saying, well worthy of acceptance, and worthy also of being accepted as it desires to be accepted. For it is too earnest in its intent to wish to be admired merely as a beautiful senti- ment or a neat bit of phrasing. As such it is indeed some- times present in our speech. We quote it for the benefit of some needy person, perhaps for the sake of offering him some degree of consolation in passing, perhaps mere- ly for the sake of saying something. We say it to ourselves in the heyday of our prosperity; for the human heart is deceitful and only too prone to take even high-minded- ness in vain, proud of needing little— while using much. We say it to ourselves in the day of our need; and we immediately hasten ahead in order to receive ourselves at the goal— when we shall have realized the lofty task. But in this we serve ourselves as little as we honor the saying.
Indeed, our need is not for long. But as it sometimes happens that "when the day begins to lengthen, the cold begins to strengthen," so it is always the case that the winter of our deprivation and discontent can make the day seem long, even though life and time be short.
How much then is the little that a man needs? It is quite impossible to answer this question in general terms. Even one who has had the experience, if not of needing little then at least of having to make a little suffice, can- not in general terms determine how much that little is. Just as time often brings new consolation to the sorrow- MAN S NEED OF GOD 137