It is typically from among the rejected and
despised things of men that God chooses to draw humble good.
Not exact matches
O when one beholds a
man who protests that he has entirely understood how Christ went about in the form
of a lowly servant, poor,
despised, and, as the Scripture says, spat upon — when I see the same
man so careful to betake himself thither where in a worldly sense it is good to be, and accommodate himself there in the utmost security, when I see him apprehensive
of every puff
of wind from right or left, as though his life depended upon it, and so blissful, so utterly blissful, so awfully glad — yes, to make the
thing complete, so awfully glad that he is able to thank God for it — glad that he is held in honor by all
men — then I have often said to myself and by myself, «Socrates, Socrates, Socrates, can it be possible that this
man has understood what he says he has understood?»
The justice in this seems to be more than simple retribution; it is a corrective to the way the
man and the woman had
despised the good
things of God.
«For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise
men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: But God hath chosen the foolish
things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak
things of the world to confound the
things which are mighty; And base
things of the world, and
things which are
despised, hath God chosen, yea, and
things which are not, to bring to nought
things that are: That no flesh should glory in his presence.»
Camus, in The Plague, says, «Even in a time
of pestilence (we learn) that there are more
things to admire in
men than
despise.»
For a
man who professes to
despise this sort
of thing, he really does appear to abide by the kind
of simplistic tenets more commonly found among religious fundamentalists.