Eternity and the Eternal Present

"Since, then, as was shown a little while ago, everything that is known is known not according to its own nature but according to the nature of those who comprehend it, let us now examine, as far as is permitted, what the condition of the divine substance is, so that we may also be able to recognize what its knowledge is.

"That God is eternal is the common judgment of all who live by reason. Let us therefore consider what eternity is. For this lays open to us at once both the divine nature and the divine knowledge. Eternity, then, is the whole, simultaneous, and perfect possession of unending life — which becomes clearer by comparison with temporal things. For whatever lives in time, that, being present, proceeds from the past into the future, and there is nothing established in time that can equally embrace the whole span of its life. It does not yet grasp tomorrow, while it has already lost yesterday; and in today's life, too, you live no more than in that moving, transitory moment. Therefore whatever undergoes the condition of time — even if, as Aristotle judged of the world, it never began to be and never ceases, and its life is extended together with the infinity of time — is nonetheless not yet such that it may rightly be believed eternal. For it does not comprehend and embrace the whole span of an infinite life all at once, but does not yet have the future, and no longer has what is past. Therefore that which comprehends and possesses the whole fullness of unending life all at once, from which nothing future is absent and nothing past has flowed away — that is rightly held to be eternal; and it must necessarily be both ever present to itself, master of itself, and have present to it the infinity of moving time.

"Hence certain people are wrong who, when they hear that the world seemed to Plato to have had no beginning of time and to be going to have no end, in this way suppose that the created world is made coeternal with its creator. For it is one thing to be carried through an unending life — which is what Plato attributed to the world — and another to have embraced equally the whole presence of unending life, which is manifestly the property of the divine mind.

"Nor ought God to seem more ancient than created things by a quantity of time, but rather by the property of his simple nature. For that infinite movement of temporal things imitates this present-tense condition of unmoving life; and since it cannot reproduce and equal it, it falls from immobility into motion, sinks from the simplicity of the present into the infinite quantity of future and past; and since it cannot possess the whole fullness of its life all at once, by this very fact, that it never in any way ceases to be, it seems in some measure to emulate that which it cannot fill and express, binding itself to a kind of presence of this small, fleeting moment. And since this presence bears a certain image of that abiding presence, it grants to whatever it touches that they should seem to be. But since it could not remain, it seized upon the unending road of time, and in this way it came about that it continued, by going on, the life whose fullness it could not embrace by remaining. And so, if we wish to give things names worthy of them, let us, following Plato, say that God indeed is eternal, but that the world is perpetual.

"Since, then, every judgment comprehends the things subject to it according to its own nature, and since God has a condition that is forever eternal and present, his knowledge too, surpassing all movement of time, abides in the simplicity of its own presence, and, embracing the infinite spaces of past and future, considers all things in its simple knowing as though they were now being done. And so, if you wish to weigh the foresight by which he discerns all things, you will more rightly judge it to be not a foreknowledge as of something future, but the knowledge of a present that never fails. Hence it is called not 'pre-vision' but rather 'providence,' because, set far apart from the lowest things, it looks out upon all things as if from the highest peak of the world.

"Why, then, do you demand that the things illumined by the divine light become necessary, when not even men make the things they see become necessary? For surely the things which you see as present — does your gaze add any necessity to them?"

"By no means."

"And yet, if there is a worthy comparison between the divine present and the human, then, just as you see certain things in this temporal present of yours, so he beholds all things in his eternal present. And so this divine foreknowledge does not change the nature and property of things, and beholds before itself, as present, such things as will at some time come about in time. Nor does it confuse the judgments of things, but by one gaze of his mind discerns alike the things that will come about necessarily and those that will come about not necessarily — just as you, when you see at the same time a man walking on the earth and the sun rising in the sky, although you see both at once, nonetheless distinguish them, and judge the one to be voluntary, the other necessary. So, then, the divine gaze, looking down upon all things, in no way disturbs the quality of things, which are present before itself but, with respect to the condition of time, are future. So it comes about that this is not opinion but rather a knowledge grounded in truth, when he knows that something is going to be which at the same time he is not unaware lacks the necessity of existing.

"Here, if you should say that what God sees is going to come about cannot fail to come about, and that what cannot fail to come about happens by necessity, and so bind me to this word 'necessity' — I will admit that it is a matter of the most solid truth, but one which scarcely anyone but a beholder of the divine could reach. For I will answer that the same future thing, when it is referred to the divine knowing, is necessary, but when it is weighed in its own nature, seems wholly free and unconstrained. For there are two kinds of necessity: one simple, as that it is necessary that all men are mortal; the other conditional, as that, if you know someone is walking, it is necessary that he is walking. For what anyone knows cannot be otherwise than it is known. But this conditional necessity by no means drags with it that simple necessity. For it is not its own nature that makes this necessity, but the addition of a condition. For no necessity compels one who walks of his own will to advance, although it is necessary that, at the time when he walks, he is advancing. In the same way, then, if providence sees anything as present, it must necessarily be, even though it has no necessity of nature.

"And yet God beholds as present those future things which proceed from the freedom of the will. These things, therefore, when referred to the divine gaze, become necessary through the condition of the divine knowing, but considered in themselves they do not cease from the absolute freedom of their own nature. Without doubt, then, all things will come about which God foreknows will be; but certain of them proceed from free will, and although they come about, they nonetheless do not lose their own nature in coming to be — the nature by which, before they happened, they were also able not to happen.

"What does it matter, then, that they are not necessary, since, on account of the condition of the divine knowledge, the thing will come about in every way just as if it were necessary? It matters in just this respect, that the things I proposed a little while ago — the rising sun and the walking man — while they are happening, cannot not be happening; yet of these, the one was necessarily going to exist even before it happened, while the other was by no means so. In the same way, the things that God holds as present will without doubt come into being; but of them, this one descends from the necessity of things, while that one descends from the power of those who do it. And so we said, not unjustly, that these things, if referred to the divine knowing, are necessary, but if considered in themselves, are released from the bonds of necessity — just as everything that lies open to the senses, if you refer it to reason, is universal, but if you look at it in itself, is singular.

"'But if it is placed in my own power,' you will say, 'to change my purpose, I shall make providence void, since I shall perhaps change the things it foreknows.' I will answer that you can indeed turn aside your purpose, but since the present truth of providence beholds both that you can do this, and whether you will do it, and toward what you will turn, you cannot escape the divine foreknowledge — just as you cannot flee the gaze of an eye that is present, although by your free will you turn yourself to various actions.

"'What then?' you will say. 'Will the divine knowledge be changed by my arrangement, so that, when I wish now this, now that, it too seems to alternate its turns of knowing?'

"By no means. For the divine gaze runs ahead of every future thing and bends it back and recalls it to the presence of its own knowing; nor does it alternate, as you suppose, foreknowing now this, now that, but in one stroke, abiding, it anticipates and embraces your changes. And God obtained this presence of comprehending and seeing all things not from the outcome of future events, but from his own simplicity.

"By this, too, is resolved that which you put forward a little while ago — that it is unworthy that our future things should be said to provide the cause of God's knowledge. For this power of knowledge, embracing all things in its present-tense awareness, itself appoints the measure for all things, and owes nothing to things that come after.

"Since these things are so, the freedom of the will remains for mortals inviolate; nor do laws set out rewards and punishments unjustly for wills that are released from all necessity. And there remains, looking down from above, foreknowing all things, God the beholder; and the ever-present eternity of his vision concurs with the future quality of our actions, dispensing rewards to the good and punishments to the wicked. Nor are the hopes and prayers placed in God in vain, which, when they are upright, cannot be ineffective. Turn away, then, from vices, cultivate virtues, lift up your minds to upright hopes, stretch out humble prayers on high. A great necessity of probity is laid upon you, if you do not wish to dissemble, since you act before the eyes of a judge who sees all things."

'Since, then, as we lately proved, everything that is known is cognized not in accordance with its own nature, but in accordance with the nature of the faculty that comprehends it, let us now contemplate, as far as lawful, the character of the Divine essence, that we may be able to understand also the nature of its knowledge.

'God is eternal; in this judgment all rational beings agree. Let us, then, consider what eternity is. For this word carries with it a revelation alike of the Divine nature and of the Divine knowledge. Now, eternity is the possession of endless life whole and perfect at a single moment. What this is becomes more clear and manifest from a comparison with things temporal. For whatever lives in time is a present proceeding from the past to the future, and there is nothing set in time which can embrace the whole space of its life together. To-morrow's state it grasps not yet, while it has already lost yesterday's; nay, even in the life of to-day ye live no longer than one brief transitory moment. Whatever, therefore, is subject to the condition of time, although, as Aristotle deemed of the world, it never have either beginning or end, and its life be stretched to the whole extent of time's infinity, it yet is not such as rightly to be thought eternal. For it does not include and embrace the whole space of infinite life at once, but has no present hold on things to come, not yet accomplished. Accordingly, that which includes and possesses the whole fulness of unending life at once, from which nothing future is absent, from which nothing past has escaped, this is rightly called eternal; this must of necessity be ever present to itself in full self-possession, and hold the infinity of movable time in an abiding present. Wherefore they deem not rightly who imagine that on Plato's principles the created world is made co-eternal with the Creator, because they are told that he believed the world to have had no beginning in time,^S and to be destined never to come to an end. For it is one thing for existence to be endlessly prolonged, which was what Plato ascribed to the world, another for the whole of an endless life to be embraced in the present, which is manifestly a property peculiar to the Divine mind. Nor need God appear earlier in mere duration of time to created things, but only prior in the unique simplicity of His nature. For the infinite progression of things in time copies this immediate existence in the present of the changeless life, and when it cannot succeed in equalling it, declines from movelessness into motion, and falls away from the simplicity of a perpetual present to the infinite duration of the future and the past; and since it cannot possess the whole fulness of its life together, for the very reason that in a manner it never ceases to be, it seems, up to a certain point, to rival that which it cannot complete and express by attaching itself indifferently to any present moment of time, however swift and brief; and since this bears some resemblance to that ever-abiding present, it bestows on everything to which it is assigned the semblance of existence. But since it cannot abide, it hurries along the infinite path of time, and the result has been that it continues by ceaseless movement the life the completeness of which it could not embrace while it stood still. So, if we are minded to give things their right names, we shall follow Plato in saying that God indeed is eternal, but the world everlasting.

'Since, then, every mode of judgment comprehends its objects conformably to its own nature, and since God abides for ever in an eternal present, His knowledge, also transcending all movement of time, dwells in the simplicity of its own changeless present, and, embracing the whole infinite sweep of the past and of the future, contemplates all that falls within its simple cognition as if it were now taking place. And therefore, if thou wilt carefully consider that immediate presentment whereby it discriminates all things, thou wilt more rightly deem it not foreknowledge as of something future, but knowledge of a moment that never passes. For this cause the name chosen to describe it is not prevision, but providence, because, since utterly removed in nature from things mean and trivial, its outlook embraces all things as from some lofty height. Why, then, dost thou insist that the things which are surveyed by the Divine eye are involved in necessity, whereas clearly men impose no necessity on things which they see? Does the act of vision add any necessity to the things which thou seest before thy eyes?'

'Assuredly not.'

'And yet, if we may without unfitness compare God's present and man's, just as ye see certain things in this your temporary present, so does He see all things in His eternal present. Wherefore this Divine anticipation changes not the natures and properties of things, and it beholds things present before it, just as they will hereafter come to pass in time. Nor does it confound things in its judgment, but in the one mental view distinguishes alike what will come necessarily and what without necessity. For even as ye, when at one and the same time ye see a man walking on the earth and the sun rising in the sky, distinguish between the two, though one glance embraces both, and judge the former voluntary, the latter necessary action: so also the Divine vision in its universal range of view does in no wise confuse the characters of the things which are present to its regard, though future in respect of time. Whence it follows that when it perceives that something will come into existence, and yet is perfectly aware that this is unbound by any necessity, its apprehension is not opinion, but rather knowledge based on truth. And if to this thou sayest that what God sees to be about to come to pass cannot fail to come to pass, and that what cannot fail to come to pass happens of necessity, and wilt tie me down to this word necessity, I will acknowledge that thou affirmest a most solid truth, but one which scarcely anyone can approach to who has not made the Divine his special study. For my answer would be that the same future event is necessary from the standpoint of Divine knowledge, but when considered in its own nature it seems absolutely free and unfettered. So, then, there are two necessities—one simple, as that men are necessarily mortal; the other conditioned, as that, if you know that someone is walking, he must necessarily be walking. For that which is known cannot indeed be otherwise than as it is known to be, and yet this fact by no means carries with it that other simple necessity. For the former necessity is not imposed by the thing's own proper nature, but by the addition of a condition. No necessity compels one who is voluntarily walking to go forward, although it is necessary for him to go forward at the moment of walking. In the same way, then, if Providence sees anything as present, that must necessarily be, though it is bound by no necessity of nature. Now, God views as present those coming events which happen of free will. These, accordingly, from the standpoint of the Divine vision are made necessary conditionally on the Divine cognizance; viewed, however, in themselves, they desist not from the absolute freedom naturally theirs. Accordingly, without doubt, all things will come to pass which God foreknows as about to happen, but of these certain proceed of free will; and though these happen, yet by the fact of their existence they do not lose their proper nature, in virtue of which before they happened it was really possible that they might not have come to pass.

'What difference, then, does the denial of necessity make, since, through their being conditioned by Divine knowledge, they come to pass as if they were in all respects under the compulsion of necessity? This difference, surely, which we saw in the case of the instances I formerly took, the sun's rising and the man's walking; which at the moment of their occurrence could not but be taking place, and yet one of them before it took place was necessarily obliged to be, while the other was not so at all. So likewise the things which to God are present without doubt exist, but some of them come from the necessity of things, others from the power of the agent. Quite rightly, then, have we said that these things are necessary if viewed from the standpoint of the Divine knowledge; but if they are considered in themselves, they are free from the bonds of necessity, even as everything which is accessible to sense, regarded from the standpoint of Thought, is universal, but viewed in its own nature particular. "But," thou wilt say, "if it is in my power to change my purpose, I shall make void providence, since I shall perchance change something which comes within its foreknowledge." My answer is: Thou canst indeed turn aside thy purpose; but since the truth of providence is ever at hand to see that thou canst, and whether thou dost, and whither thou turnest thyself, thou canst not avoid the Divine foreknowledge, even as thou canst not escape the sight of a present spectator, although of thy free will thou turn thyself to various actions. Wilt thou, then, say: "Shall the Divine knowledge be changed at my discretion, so that, when I will this or that, providence changes its knowledge correspondingly?"

'Surely not.'

'True, for the Divine vision anticipates all that is coming, and transforms and reduces it to the form of its own present knowledge, and varies not, as thou deemest, in its foreknowledge, alternating to this or that, but in a single flash it forestalls and includes thy mutations without altering. And this ever-present comprehension and survey of all things God has received, not from the issue of future events, but from the simplicity of His own nature. Hereby also is resolved the objection which a little while ago gave thee offence—that our doings in the future were spoken of as if supplying the cause of God's knowledge. For this faculty of knowledge, embracing all things in its immediate cognizance, has itself fixed the bounds of all things, yet itself owes nothing to what comes after.

'And all this being so, the freedom of man's will stands unshaken, and laws are not unrighteous, since their rewards and punishments are held forth to wills unbound by any necessity. God, who foreknoweth all things, still looks down from above, and the ever-present eternity of His vision concurs with the future character of all our acts, and dispenseth to the good rewards, to the bad punishments. Our hopes and prayers also are not fixed on God in vain, and when they are rightly directed cannot fail of effect. Therefore, withstand vice, practise virtue, lift up your souls to right hopes, offer humble prayers to Heaven. Great is the necessity of righteousness laid upon you if ye will not hide it from yourselves, seeing that all your actions are done before the eyes of a Judge who seeth all things.'