Shall we speak in this way? Certainly, to speak in this way would indeed very frequently be profitable to us, but to do it is so very difficult that not even the speaker himself is able to act in accordance with the LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 55 speech in judging others. Certainly, even in speaking it is very difficult to judge oneself, so that the speaker does not become entangled in a new misunderstanding, and thereby confuse others. Therefore we choose the easier task; we shall lay the emphasis on the words them- selves, and, as all other kinds of love have been praised in the world, we shall explain and praise the love which has power to perform the miraculous, to cover a multi- tude of sins. We shall speak as to the perfect. If there should then be one who did not regard" himself as per- fect, the speech would make no difference. We shall let our soul rest in the apostolic word, which is not a de- ceitful, poetic mode of expression, not a bold outburst, but a trustworthy thought, a perfectly valid testimony, which to be understood must be taken at its face value.
Love shall cover a multitude of sins. Love is blind, says an old proverb, but it does not thereby mean that this is an imperfection in the lover, or that he was born blind; for not until love won a place in his soul did he become blind, and then, as love triumphed more and more within him, he became more and more blind. Or did love become more imperfect when, after having first deceived itself by not wishing to see what it actually saw, at last it did not even see it any more? Or who con- cealed ijt best, he who knew that he had forgotten some- thing, or he who had even forgotten this? To the pure all things are pure, is an old saying which does not indi- cate an imperfection in the pure that might gradually disappear; on the contrary, the more perfect he becomes, the purer everything seems to him. Or was it an imper- fection in the pure, that after having saved himself un- spotted by the impurity through not wishing to know 5« what he really did know, he at last finished by not knowing it any longer?
It depends, then, not only on what a man sees, but what a man sees depends on how he sees it; for all observation is not only a receiving, a discovery, but also a creation, and in so far as it is that, the crucial thing is what the observer himself is. Thus, when one person sees one thing and another another in the same object, then the one discovers what the other conceals. Insofar as the object of contemplation belongs to the external world, the nature of the observer is a matter of relative impor- tance, or rather, it is then, as a necessary object of reflec- tion, something the observer's deeper nature is uncon- scious of; on the contrary, the more the object of con- templation belongs to the spiritual world, the more im- portant becomes the question of what the observer is in his inmost being; for all things spiritual are appropriated only in freedom; but what is appropriated in freedom must also be produced in freedom. The difference then does not depend on externals but on the inward condi- tion, and from within goeth forth everything which makes a man unclean, and his thoughts unclean. What the eye sees externally is of no importance, but from within "proceedeth the evil eye." But an evil eye discovers much that love does not see; for an evil eye even regards the Lord as unrighteous when He is good. When evil dwells in the heart then the eye sees evil, but when purity abides in the heart, then the eye sees the finger of God; for the pure always see God, "but he who does evil, does not see God."
What is in a man, then, decides what he discovers and what he conceals. When the lust of sin dwells in the heart, then the eye discovers the multitude of sins, and LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 57 makes them even more numerous; for the eye is the light of the body, but if the light that is in a man be darkness, then how great is that darkness! When the apprehension of sin dwells in the heart, then the ear discovers the variety of sin, and makes it even more manifold, and how is such a man helped by being blind? For a rascal casts his eyes down, and listens with his rascally ears. When love dwells in the h~art, then the eye closes, and does not discover the manifest acts of sin, even less those that are concealed; for "he who winketh with the eye," has an evil mind; but he who understands the invitation of the eye is not pure. When love abides in the heart, then the ear is closed and does not hear the worldly speech, the bitterness of its blasphemy; for he who says Raca to his brother, is guilty before the council, but he who hears it, when it is said to him, is not perfect in love. When there is precipitancy in the heart, then is a man quick to discover the multitude of sin, then he is excellently able to understand a half-uttered word, hastily understand it from a distance, almost before it is spoken. When love dwells in the heart, then a man comprehends slowly, and does not hear at all the hasty word and does not understand its repetition, because he ascribes to it a good in- tention and a good meaning; does not understand the long, angry or derisive speech, because he still expects one word which will give meaning to the speech. When fear dwells in the heart, then a man easily discovers the multiplicity of sin— weakness and deceit and faithlessness and scheming, so that Every heart is like a trap, Every rogue like a child, Every promise but a shadow.
5« But the love which covers a multitude of sins is never deceived. When the heart is niggardly, when one gives with one eye and with seven eyes looks to see what one will get in return, then one easily discovers a multitude of sins. But when the heart is filled with love, then the eye is never deceived; for love when it gives, does not scrutinize the gift, but its eyes are fixed on the Lord. When the heart is filled with envy, then the eye has power to call forth uncleanness even in the pure; but when love dwells in the heart, then the eye has power to foster the good in the unclean; but this eye does not see the evil but the pure, which it loves and encourages by loving it. Certainly there is a power in this world which by its words turns good into evil, but there is a power above which turns the evil into good; that power is the love which covers a multitude of sins. When hate dwells in the heart, then sin lies at a man's door, and its manifold desires exist in him; but when love dwells in the heart, then sin flees far away, and he sees it no more. When disputes, malice, wrath, quarrels, dissensions, factions fill the heart, does one then need to go far in order to discover the multitudinousness of sin, or does a man need to live very long to produce these outside of himself! But when joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness and temperance dwell in the heart, what wonder, then, that a man, even if he were surrounded by a multitude of sins, remains an alien, a stranger, who understands only a very little about the customs of the country, even if these were explained to him? Would not this, then, be a covering of the multitude of sins?
Or is it not this way? Should we shrewdly say: The variety of sin in the world is and remains equally great whether love discovers it or not? Should we permit the LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 59 apostolic word, and with?t the love which is described, to remain ambiguous, a graceful turn of expression which is not able to endure the test of an investigation? But then did the intelligence really understand love as well as it understood the manifold of sin! Or would it admit the opposite, that the manifold of sin remained equally great whether the intelligence discovered it or not, and not rather commend its own ingenuity in discovering and tracing the hiding place of sin? But then it became equally true that the intelligence discovered the manifold of sin, and that love concealed it; but the one was no truer than the other. Or was there not still a third way in which one without being sensibly conscious of it, nor lovingly unconscious of it, was still conscious of the manifold of sin; was not such a knowledge a superhuman knowledge? It is not, then, merely a rhetorical expression that love covers a multitude of sins, but it is the very truth, and this is the power of the Christian love, which is not great through unusual achievements, as other love is, but greater in its quiet miraculousness.
Happy that man who saw the world in all its perfec- tion when everything was very good; happy that man who with God was a witness to the glory of creation; more blessed the soul who was God's collaborator in love; blessed the love which covers a multitude of sins.
Love shall cover a multitude of sins. A multitude of sins, that is an appalling word, and readily recalls an- other connection in which the word is frequently used: the multitude of created beings wherein we contemplate the countless hosts of generations, the innumerable mul- titude of living beings, which cannot be reckoned in 6q 6q numbers, because no number is vast enough, and because there is no moment when one can begin to count; for every moment an innumerable number is born. But this is not the case with the multitude of sins. As it is said that to him who hath shall be given, and he shall have in abundance, so, too, is sin very fruitful, and one sin breeds many, and becomes more and more multitudinous. But love covers a multitude of sins. If the eye of love had not closed, if it had not even hidden the multitude of sins from its view, how could it then venture to check the power of sin! So then love really covers a multitude of sins through the fact that it has covered them before.
An ancient sage has said: Prevent boredom and you will diminish sin. But one who reduces the number of sins, covers a multitude of sins, and conceals them doubly by not sinning himself, and by preventing an- other from sinning. And yet he who prevents boredom, keeps a man from sinning only for a moment; perhaps the same man will seek boredom in another direction; but he who converteth a sinner from the error of his way, as the apostle James says, he covers a multitude of sins.
Still is it possible to explain correctly how love covers a multitude of sins, or is not love even more manifold than sin is? When love sees the bruised reed, then it knows how to cover the multitude of sins, so that the reed is not crushed under the burden. When love sees the smoking flax, then it knows how to cover the multitude of sins, so that the flame is not quenched. When love has triumphed over the multitude of sins, then it knows how to hide again the multitude of sins, then it prepares every- thing festally for the reception, as the father of the prodi- gal son did; then it stands with open arms and awaits the LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 6l erring, then has it forgotten everything and causes him to forget everything, as it again hides the multitude of sins. For love does not even weep over the multitude of sins; if it did this, then it would have seen the sins, but it covers their multitude. And when sin offers resistance, then love becomes even more manifold, never weary of faithfully pulling in an unequal yoke with it, never weary of believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things. When sin hardens itself against love, and wishes to be rid of it, when it rewards kindness with abuse and scorn and ridicule, then love does not requite abuse with abuse, then it blesses and curses not. When sin enviously hates love, when it would maliciously cause love itself to sin, then it finds no deceitfulness on its lips, but only prayer and admonition. But when prayers and warnings only inflame the sin, and become a new occa- sion for multiplying the sins, then is love silent, but not the less faithful; steadfast as a woman, it saves, as a woman does— "without words." Sin thought that it would soon bring about the parting of their ways, but lo, love remained with it. And sin would thrust love away from it; it forces love to go a mile with it, but lo, love goes two; it struck love on the right cheek, but lo, love turned the other to it; it took away love's coat, but lo, love gave its cloak also. Already sin feels its impotence, it cannot hold out against love, it will then tear itself away from it. Then it injures love as deeply as possible; for even love itself, sin believes, cannot forgive more than seven times. But lo, love could forgive seventy times seven, and sin sooner became tired of needing forgiveness than love did of forgiving. Yes, as there is a power of sin which has the power to consume every better feeling in a man, so, too, is there a heavenly power which starves out the manifold 62 of sin in a man. This power is the love which covers a multitude of sins.
Or is it not this way? Should we rather praise a clever- ness which knows how to describe the multitude of sins even more terribly? Or ought we not rather to ask this cleverness where it gets such knowledge? Certainly, if it could convince love that such is the case, then love would never begin, and would accomplish nothing. But because of this, love begins by hiding a multitude of sins, and therefore it ends where it began, by hiding a multitude of sins.
Blessed the man whose sins are hidden; more blessed the love which hides a multitude of sins.
Love shall cover a multitude of sins. If love had tri- umphed in the world, then would all the multitude of sins be hidden, and everything would be perfect in love. If the hosts of love were numerous in the world, if their number were equal to that of the enemy, so they could fight man to man— then, how could love do other than conquer since it is the stronger! If, on the contrary, the servants of love are but a small host, if each one is only a solitary man, then will love actually be able to cover a multitude of sins? Or is the apostolic word, in- sofar as we wish thereby to consider its zeal within its own limits, anything more than the pious ignorance of love; is not the apostolic utterance in such a case a beau- tiful but still a meaningless expression? Ought we not to regard the apostolic expression as an enthusiastic bit of foolishness, and rather commend the cleverness which says: The way of life follows an appointed course; let love live next door to ungodliness, the ungodliness gains LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 63 no advantage from it? Would the reason be equally prompt to assert the opposite, that it makes no difference if ungodliness does dwell with love? Will the reason deny that in life the innocent must often suffer with the guilty?
Let us interrogate the reason. An ancient pagan, who in pagandom was renowned and praised for his wisdom, sailed on the same ship with a wicked man. When the ship was in distress the wicked man lifted up his voice in prayer, but the wise man said to him: "Keep quiet, my friend; if heaven discovers that you are on board, the ship will go under." Thus is it not true that the guilty may be the occasion for the destruction of the innocent? But is not the opposite equally true? Perhaps then the understanding lacked only the courage to believe this, and while it had sufficient distressing cleverness to dis- cover the wretchedness of life, it did not have the courage to apprehend the power of love. Is this not true? For the reason still merely makes a man despondent and faint-hearted, but love gives courage freely, and because of this every apostolic word is always confident.
If, instead of there having been a wicked man on board that ship, there had been a righteous man, if there had been an apostle! And did this not happen? A pagan ship sailed from Crete bound for Rome, and the ship was in distress, and for many days they saw neither sun nor stars. On board that ship there was an apostle; and Paul came forward and said to them who were with him in the ship: "Men, I admonish you to be of good courage; for not one soul among you shall perish." Or should un- righteousness really have greater power than love; should the fact that a wicked man was on board have power to alter the circumstances for the others on the ship, but an apostle not have power to do this? Or does not the Lord 64 Himself say that for the sake of the elect the days of distress shall be shortened?
Is this an unworthy conception of God to believe that love thus hides a multitude of sins? Do we perhaps forget in our speech and in our reflection that God in heaven is not hindered by any illusions, that His thought is vivid and present, that He penetrates everything and judges the designs of the heart? Would one be right in remind- ing us, when we wished to extol love, rather to restrict ourselves to telling the truth, that it is beautiful and lovely that love should wish to cover the multitude of sins and avert wrath, than to exaggerate by saying that love does cover a multitude of sins? Has he who speaks thus not forgotten, what we do not forget, that love prays for the sins of others; has he not forgotten that the prayer of a righteous man availeth much?
When Abraham spoke earnestly to the Lord and begged for Sodom and Gomorrah, did he not then con- ceal a multitude of sins? Or is it perhaps a commendable sophistry for someone to say that by his prayer he re- called the multitude of sins and proclaimed the judgment, just as his own life was already a judgment, which, if it had power to impose a condition, made the judgment, if anything, even more terrible? How did Abraham pray? Let us speak about it from the human point of view! Did he not, as it were, carry the Lord along with him in his course of reasoning, did he not cause the Lord to forget the multitude of sinners in order to count the number of the righteous, whether there might be fifty, forty-five, forty, thirty, twenty, aye, whether there might be even ten innocent men? Did not Abraham then con- ceal a multitude of sins? Does the destruction of the cities prove the converse, or prove anything except that there LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS 65 were not ten righteous men in Sodom? And yet what was Abraham in comparison with an apostle, what was his confidence in comparison with an apostle's?
Great is a man, in that his life, if he is upright, shall even judge angels; more blessed the love which covers a multitude of sins.
We have praised the power of love to cover a multitude of sins. We have spoken as to perfection. If there was someone who did not feel himself perfect, the speech made no difference. Let us once more dwell upon this love in order to observe the image of it which clearly presents itself to the soul. Should there be one who by observing himself in this mirror ascertained his own unlikeness, should this be the case with everyone, the speech makes no difference.
When the scribes and the Pharisees had taken a woman in open sin, they brought her into the midst of the temple before the face of the Savior; but Jesus bowed down and wrote with His finger on the ground. He who knew everything, knew also what the scribes and the Pharisees knew, before they told Him. The scribes and the Pharisees soon discovered her guilt, which was indeed easy since her sin was open. They also discovered a new sin, one of which they made themselves guilty, when they artfully laid snares for the Lord. But Jesus bowed down and wrote with His finger upon the ground. Why, I wonder, did He bow down; why, I wonder, did He write with His finger upon the ground? Did He sit there like a judge who listens attentively to the story of the accusers, who, listening, bows down and jots down 66 66 the principal points so that he may not forget them, and may judge strictly; was the woman's guilt the only thing which was noted by the Lord? Or did not He who wrote with His finger on the ground rather write it down in order to erase it and forget it? There stood the sinner, surrounded perhaps by those even more guilty, who loudly accused her, but love bowed down and did not hear the accusation, which passed over His head into the air; He wrote with His finger in order to blot out what He himself knew; for sin discovers a multitude of sins, but love covers the multitude of sins. Yes, even in the sight of the sinner, love covers a multitude of sins. For by one word from the Master the Pharisees and the scribes were struck dumb, and there was no longer an accuser, no one who condemned her. But Jesus said to her: "Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more," for the punishment of sin breeds new sin, but love covers a multitude of sins.
IV THE LORD GAVE, AND THE LORD HATH TAKEN AWAY, BLESSED BE THE NAME OF THE LORD Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell upon the ground and worshipped, and said: Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. Job 1:20-21 NOT only do we call that man a teacher of men who through some particularly happy talent discov- ered, or by unremitting toil and continued per- severance brought to light one or another truth; left what he had acquired as a principle of knowledge, which the following generations strove to understand, and through this understanding to appropriate to themselves. Perhaps, in an even stricter sense, we also call that one a teacher of men who had no doctrine to pass on to others, but who merely left himself as a pattern to succeeding generations, his life as a principle of guidance to every man, his name as an assurance to the many, his own deeds as an encour- agement to the striving. Such a teacher and guide of men was Job, whose significance is by no means due to what he said but to what he did. He has indeed left a saying which because of its brevity and its beauty has become a proverb, preserved from generation to generation, and no one has been presumptuous enough to add anything to it or to take anything away from it. But the expression itself is not the guidance, and Job's significance does not lie in the fact that he said it, but in the fact that he acted in accordance with it. The expression itself is truly beautiful and worthy of consideration, but if another had used it, or if Job had been different, or if he had uttered it under different circumstances, then the word itself would have become something different— significant, if, as uttered, it would otherwise have been so, but not significant from the fact that he acted in asserting it, so that the expres- sion itself was the action. If Job had devoted his whole life to emphasizing this word, if he had regarded it as the sum and fulfillment of what a man ought to let life teach him, if he had constantly only taught it, but had never himself practiced it, had never himself acted in accord- ance with what he taught, then Job would have been a different kind of man, his significance different. Then would Job's name have been forgotten, or it would have been unimportant whether anyone remembered it or not, the principal thing being the content of the word, the richness of the thought it embodied.
If the race had accepted the saying, then it would have been this which one generation transmitted to the next; while now, on the contrary, it is Job himself who guides the generations. When one generation has served its time, fulfilled its duty, fought its battle, then Job has guided it; when the new generation, with its innumerable ranks and every individual among them in his place, stands ready to begin the journey, then Job is again present, takes his place, which is the outpost of humanity. If the generation sees only happy days and prosperous times, then Job faithfully goes with them, and if, nevertheless, an individual in his thought experiences the terrible, is apprehensive because of his conception of what life may conceal of horror and distress, of the fact that no one knows when the hour of despair may strike for him, then his troubled thought resorts to Job, dwells upon him, is THE LORD GAVE 69