De Evangelio

Hilary’s On the Gospel. XB Christ here is the flower, the beauty, and the perennial spring. After he was conceived by the word of the high divinity, the virgin, full of God, brought him forth from her chaste womb, and a new infant shone forth to the rejoicing lands. At once a brighter light filled the whole world. Above, the stars, gazing piously, gape at his countenance, and the heaven already envies the earth such great glory. But the earth, smiling, rejoices in the sacred offspring; it scatters the ground with violets out of season, and the threshing-floor sends forth purple flowers from its turf. All things gleam in festivity: the sea, the clouds, the winds rejoice; only you, treacherous serpent, tremble with fear. That day saw you sick with pale poison, shaking your head and grinding your dire breast, because salvation from heaven had come to earth, because a protector was present, seeking to save the peoples snatched from the dark jaws, the people torn from the snares. With mournful howling you pursue the life of men and the salvation of the world. Meanwhile, the star of the high divinity has arisen and appears in the heavens and fills the lands with light.

The Magi recognized the star and sought the cradle. They bear sacred gifts: myrrh and sweet incense. The incense signifies a god; the myrrh marks one buried. Hail, true offspring of God, boy sent from the ether—not of common lineage nor bred by our customs; pledge of an unwed mother, child of a chaste womb, and the wondrous infant of an untouched virgin. Though she vaunts herself with pious name of mother, having imitated some swelling of the belly that shapes a being, and though she displays your cradle and greets it with a laugh, yet she is a virgin mother, without experience of a great spouse; she knows not the cause of the offspring, but she knows the joys. You are the work of sacred speech, sown by the paternal mouth, rich Word-born one, wondrous sprout of the tongue, a mingled kind of heaven and earth, powerfully so that care for both heaven and earth moved you at once. In strength you are a lion; to placid minds you are a lamb; you are the stabilizer and sword of the Father; you are the right hand of the Highest; judge of the living, judge of those lacking light. The sole begetter of all deigns to call you alone begotten; you alone are the common care of parents; you alone by right are heir of such great goods. This you, long ago, through words varied in the image of things, promised to the lands, O begetter, through the songs of Kings, through the voices of prophets, through the stars of heaven, through your Seraphim and Cherubim—now it is right to unfold the high secrets of the sky: for four living beings of varied forms surround the lofty throne.

The first is a human face. Another is the mouth of a lion. Then the head of an eagle and of a calf. To all these are added wings. These are divided by their offices; for the greatest cover the face of the highest God and always veil the gleaming countenance, lest the excessive blaze of lightning harm, and the sacred gaze strike the world like a thunderbolt. And others wrap the sacred footsteps, lest the fiery force kindle the pressed lands. Then three and two fly through the walls of the world and bear gilded feathers. With much light, they learn, ever watchful, the cities, deeds, and prayers. By these forms the image of Christ is shown without doubt. For Christ is both man, taster of bitter death, and by virtue he is a lion, striking the untaught with the sword; and a calf, because he is the victim of the sinful world, who is well offered as a sacrifice for all lands. What after this of the face of the eagle? What form do you seek? The sacred bird permits the prey from heaven; rejoicing, this will be Christ, whom, snatched from the lands, he places among the stars; for he in the heavens, with calm and good intercession, conceals the wounds of the sinners, mitigates the graver ones of the parents, and tempers the wrathful fire upon the lands. You who, earth-born, bring forgiveness, yourself propagating. And you, great father, quiet in piety toward the son.

sitting on a sublime throne, observing arduous works; like the form of the ocean and the glassy element. Then an elder chorus, skilled in hymnody, serves the Lord, with twice twelve faces and white hair; their reddish locks are pressed by golden crowns, and a white stole, a gentle garment, wraps their shoulders; repeatedly rising, they set aside the headbands, singing of you as Lord, with tongues, with harmonious voice: "Hagios, holy God, fiery vigor, exalted Sabaoth!" And the race of men celebrates you with frequent speech. Beasts and birds resound you, mute things speak you, every grove sings you, hills and supine valleys; the winds roar you, the wave of the sea murmurs you. With various rites of sacred things and in dedicated temples, in an enclosed grove, in temples sculpted from marble, with signs placed in hollow bronze and with empty painting, nations and peoples worship you, they undertake vows and prayers to you, and they seek your divinity and your name. And just as one wanders in darkness, from whom light has been taken away: he senses a man is present; but who he is, where he finally stands, he does not know, and ignorant, he flings his arms through empty space, if he might perhaps grasp or at least stand by touch: not otherwise do the nations, driven by blind errors, seek what is placed before their eyes; but bereft of light, they leap over the very thing they seek; they grasp at illusions and place various images and impose a thousand names on the one, if he might be present when called. A heavier fault oppresses those to whom the true teacher himself has stood before their eyes, to whom he has spoken by mouth,

whom he warned with prayer, whom with words, whom finally with deeds. Yet the blind did not see, though light was present, bright among the peoples, as he celebrated the Father through his deeds. For a man lay there, withered of face, pale, whose body, its frame dissolved by diseases, already possessed limbs long dead to a living soul. "Rise," he said, "and be the bearer of your own bed." He leapt up and, vigorous, carried the bed itself on his shoulders. Behold, a blind man was being led, whom his mother had brought forth deprived of light, lacking the common light, not wholly born, because he lacked a part of the world. When he saw him, he took pity and said: "I have ordered this man to see!" Immediately the blind man lifts his new eyes to the sky.