De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio

Bernard of Clairvaux

De Gratia et Libero Arbitrio

Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153)

First published 1128

A theological treatise on the relationship between divine grace and free will in the work of salvation. Bernard examines how grace precedes, assists, heals, and perfects the human will, while free will freely consents and cooperates with divine action. He explains the nature of human merit, arguing that all good originates in God's grace, yet becomes attributable to man through voluntary cooperation. The work distinguishes the divine operations of creation, reformation, and consummation, and explores the respective roles of grace and free will in each.


Preface

Caput I: That to the merit of a good work is needed, together with the grace of God, the consent of the free will

Caput II: In what freedom of will consisteth

Caput III: That there is a threefold freedom: that of nature, that of grace, and that of glory

Caput IV: What kind of freedom belongeth to the holy souls in their disembodied state: what kind belongeth to God, and what kind is common to all reasonable creatures

Caput V: Whether freedom from misery, or freedom of counsel, is granted in this world

Caput VI: That grace is altogether necessary in order that we may will what is good

Caput VII: Whether the first man in Paradise was endowed with this threefold freedom, and how far his endowment was lost by sin

Caput VIII: That free choice remaineth after sin hath entered in

Caput IX: That the image and the likeness of God, in which we were created, consist in a threefold freedom

Caput X: That through Christ the likeness which properly belongeth to the divine image is restored in us

Caput XI: That neither grace, nor temptation, taketh away from freedom of choice

Caput XII: Whether one that, for fear of death or of other penalty, denieth the faith is to be excused from blame, or to be held destitute of free choice

But let us consider the case of those who, for fear of punishment or of death, have been nominally compelled to deny the faith; let us consider whether, perchance, according to this declaration of their compulsion, it is the fact either that no blame is due to them for denial of the faith merely by word of mouth, or that the will (as well as the tongue) could have been compelled by force to incur blame; so that, plainly, a man might will what it was admitted that he also did not will, and thus his freedom of choice be done away. And because this were impossible (for a man could not at one and the same time both will and not will the same thing), the question is asked how it is right that evil should be imputed to them that in no way will evil. For such sin is not as is original sin, by which one who, as yet unregenerate by baptism, not only in the absence of consent, but also for the most part in ignorance as to his state, is on other grounds held in bondage. Let us take, for example, the Apostle Peter. He seemed, indeed, against his own will, to deny the truth, inasmuch as he was under the external necessity of either denying it or suffering death. Fearing death he denied it. He was unwilling to deny it, but he was more unwilling to die. Accordingly he denied it against his will; nevertheless he did deny it, lest he should die. But although the man was compelled to say with his tongue, and not with his will, what he was unwilling to say, he was not compelled to will what he did not will. His tongue was moved against his will; but was his will at all changed? What was it that he willed? He willed, truly, to be what he was, a disciple of Christ. What was he saying? "I know not the man." Why did he say this? He willed to escape death. But why was he deserving of reproach in so doing? We recognize in the Apostle two acts of will; the one, by which he willed not to die, a thing wholly free from blame; the other, by which he delighted to be a Christian, which was highly praiseworthy. In what then was the Apostle blameworthy? Was it in that he preferred to lie rather than to die? Plainly this act of will was deserving of blame, for he willed to preserve the life of the body rather than that of the soul. "The mouth, to wit, that lieth slayeth the soul." He sinned therefore, and not without the consent of his own will, which was feeble indeed and wretched, but certainly free. He sinned, however, not by rejecting or hating Christ, but by loving himself too much Nor did that sudden fear of death compel his will by force to this perverse self-love; but it proved it to exist. He was, without doubt, already such a man as this, but he knew it not; although he had heard Him, from whom the truth could not be hidden, say: “ Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice.” Thus that weakness of will, which was revealed, but not caused, by fear inspired, made known the extent to which he loved himself, and the extent to which he loved Christ—made it known however, not to Christ, but to Peter. For, even before all this happened, Christ “ knew what was in man.” In so far therefore as he loved Christ, his will (so to do), it is not to be denied, plainly suffered violence, so that he spake in contradiction of himself: but in so far as he loved himself, without doubt he freely consented, so that he spake on behalf of himself. Had he not loved Christ, he would not have denied Him unwillingly; but had he not loved himself more, he would not have denied Him at all. Therefore it must be confessed that the man was compelled, although not to change, yet to dissemble his own will: compelled, I mean, not to yield in love to God, but to yield somewhat from love of self.

What then? Is all that hath been said above concerning the freedom of the will, perchance, untrue, because, without doubt, it hath been found that the will can be compelled? Yes, certainly; but only if the will could be compelled by another than itself. If, however, it was the will itself that compelled itself, being at once subjected and subjecting; then, just when it seemed to lose its freedom, it actually received it. Of a truth, the force which the will used against itself, it used of itself. Further, what it used of itself, it used as an act of will. What force it used as an act of will, it used, not as necessitated from outside itself, but as a voluntary act. But if as a voluntary act, also as a free act. Finally, one, whose own will compelled him to deny the faith, was compelled because he willed to be compelled: nay, rather, he was not compelled, but he consented, and that not to an external force other than himself, but to his own will, the will, namely, by all means to escape death. Otherwise how could some woman's voice have availed to shape a holy tongue to wicked words, had not the will, the mistress of the tongue, assented? Finally, when afterwards he refrained himself from that excessive love of self, and began, as he ought to do, to love Christ with all his heart and all his soul and all his strength; then could his will by no threats or penalties be forced in any measure to yield his tongue a weapon unto unrighteousness, but rather, boldly complying with the truth, he said: "We ought to obey God, rather than men."

There is, verily, a twofold compulsion, according to which we are compelled either to suffer something, or to act, contrary to our own will. Passive compulsion (for so the former is rightly named) indeed can sometimes take place without the consent of the will of him that suffereth it, but active compulsion never can. Accordingly, the evil which is done in us, or concerning us, is not to be imputed to us, provided that our will have not consented. For the rest the evil which is done by our active agency is not done without the will incurring blame. Plainly we are proved to will evil, which would not be the case, if we did not will it. There is then, too, an active compulsion (as well as a passive), but it doth not excuse the will from blame, when it is also accepted freely. A Christian (in the case in point) was compelled to deny Christ, and that indeed regretfully, nevertheless not otherwise than as an act of will. He was all too willing to escape the headsman's sword; and such a will ruling within him, and not the sword before his eyes, it was which opened his mouth. Thus the sword did not compel his will, but proved it to be what it was. Therefore the will itself brought itself under blame, not the sword. In a word, where the will was right, men could be slain, but they could not be bent. This it is which had been foretold them: " They shall do unto you whatsoever they will," to your bodily members however, not to your hearts. Ye shall not do what they will; but they shall do what they will, and ye shall suffer. They shall torture your bodily members, but they shall not change your will; they shall deal savagely with your flesh, but shall have nothing that they can do unto your soul. Although the body of the sufferer may be in the power of the tormenter, yet his will is free. By their cruel dealing they shall discover whether the will be weak; they shall not compel it to be weak, if it be not weak already. Truly its weakness is from itself; but its health is not from itself, but from the Spirit of the Lord. It is healed when it is renewed.

Furthermore, it is renewed when, as the Apostle teacheth, “ beholding the glory of the Lord, it is transformed from glory to glory,” that is, from strength to strength, “ as by the Spirit of the Lord.” Between which divine Spirit, indeed, and the fleshly appetite, that in man which is called free choice, that is to say, the human will, taketh, as it were, a middle place: and, like unto one hanging in doubtful plight on the steep slope of a very high mountain, thus in the matter of appetite is the will made weak through the flesh, so that, unless the Spirit by means of grace perseveringly helpeth its weakness, not merely is it unable, by ascending from strength to strength, to attain unto the summit of righteousness, which is, according to the prophet, “ even as the mountains of God ”; but, rolling downwards by its own weight from vice to vice, it falleth headlong, overburdened, in truth, not only by the law of sin originally implanted in its members, but in addition by the habits of its “ earthy tabernacle ” which use hath grafted upon the affections. Of both of which burdens of the human will Scripture, forsooth, telleth briefly in a verse, when it saith: "The body which is corrupted presseth down the soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things." And these two ills of our mortal state, even as they do not injure, but rather train, them that do not consent to temptation; so also do they not excuse, but rather condemn, them that do so consent; so that neither salvation, nor condemnation, can by any means follow, unless there precede the consent of the will; lest, by any chance, freedom of choice should seem to be in a measure subject to the dictates of force.

Caput XIII: That human merits are no other than divine gifts

Caput XIV: What part is to be assigned to grace, and what to free choice, in the work of salvation

↑ Top of work