In our perspective, however, the 'original' sin is not primarily that man has 'disobeyed' God; the sin is that he ceased to be hungry for Him and for Him alone, ceased to see his whole life depending on the whole world as a sacrament of communion with God. The sin was not that man neglected his religious duties. The sin was that he thought of God in terms of religion, i.e., opposing Him to life. The only real fall of man is his noneucharistic life in a noneucharistic world. The fall is not that he preferred world to God, distorted the balance between the spiritual and materical, but that he made the world material, whereas he was to have transformed it into 'life in God,' filled with meaning and spirit.

alexander schmemann, for the life of the world, ch.1.4, p.18

Monastic theology is, in a way, a spiritual theology which completes speculative theology; it is the latter's completion, and fulfillment. It is the added something, the sursum in which speculative theology tends to transcend itself and become what St. Bernard calls an integral knowledge of God: integre cognoscere.

This is what endows monastic theology with both its limitations and its lasting value. The effort it represents is always necessary if theology, while remaining scientific, is to avoid becoming purely abstract (one might venture to say: devitalized); and, as Peter the Cantor expresses it, sacred doctrine is not to be manufactured like machinery.

leclercq, the love of learning, p.223-224

If you ignore God in order to love something else - well, he made that too. Anything, I repeat, that you love at the cost of ignoring God, was created by him. If it wasn't beautiful, then you wouldn't love it. But where does its beauty come from if it wasn't created by God, whose beauty is invisible? You love gold. Well, God made it. You love beautiful bodies, you love flesh. God made them. You love your delightful estate. God made it. You love the precious light. God made it. If you ignore God in favour of something he made - well then, please love God himself as well. How much does he deserve to be loved, how much does he deserve to be loved, when he created everything that you love? Love him like this - and your love for him will grow.

I am not saying that you should have no loves; I simply want your loves to be properly ordered.

augustine, sermon 335c: on the feast of a martyr, p.59

i give up criticizing augustine for platonism. not only has the debate gotten ridiculously old, it's a question that shouldn't need answering if you've read enough augustine carefully enough. he loves creation, he just loves God more.

In reading the Platonic books I found expressed in different words, and in a variety of ways, that the Son, 'being in the form of the Father did not think it theft to be equal with God,' because by nature he is that very thing. But that 'he took on himself the form of a servant and emptied himself, was made in the likeness of men and found to behave as a man, and humbled himself being made obedient to death, even the death of the cross so that God exalted him' from the dead 'and gave him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should box, of celestial, terrestrial, and infernal beings, and every tongue should confess that Jesus is Lord to the glory of God the Father' (Phil.2:6-11) -- that these books do not have.

augustine, confessions, vii.14

“Did you mark how naturally – as if he’d been born for it – the earth-born vermin entered the new life? How all his doubts became, in the twinkling of an eye, ridiculous? I know what the creature was saying to itself! ‘Yes. Of course. It always was like this. All horrors have followed the same course, getting worse and worse and forcing you in a kind of bottleneck till, at the very moment when you thought you must be crushed, behold! you were out of the narrows and all was suddenly well. … You die and die and then you are beyond death. How could I ever have doubted it?’

As he saw you, he also saw Them. I know how it was. You reeled back dizzy and blinded, more hurt by them than he had ever been by bombs. The degredation of it! – that this thing of earth and slime could stand upright and converse with spirits before whom you, a spirit, could only cower. Perhaps you had hoped that the awe and strangeness of it would dash his joy But that is the cursed thing; the gods are strange to mortal eyes, and yet they are not strange. He had no faintest conception till that very hour of how they would look, and even doubted their existence. But when he saw them he knew that he had always known them and realized what part each one of them had played at many an hour in his life when he had supposed himself alone, so that now he could say to them, one by one, not ‘Who are you?’ but ‘So it was you all the time.’ All that they were and said at this meeting woke memories … Only you were left outside.

He saw not only Them; he saw Him. This animal, this thing begotten in a bed, could look on Him. What is blinding, suffocating fire to you, is now cool light to him, is clrity itself, and wears the form of a Man. You would like, if you could, to interpret the paitent’s prostration in the Presence, his self-abhorrence and utter knowledge of his sins (yes, Wormwood, a clearer knowledge even than yours) on the analogy of your own choking and paralyzing sensations when you encounted the deadly air that breathes from the heart of Heaven. But it’s all nonsense. Pains he still may have to encounter, but they embrace those pains.

CS Lewis

screwtape letters, no. 31