Now the end of the commandment is love out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned—I TIMOTHY 1:5

IF in a single word we wished to point out and indicate the victory Christianity has won over the world, or even more correctly, the victory whereby it has more than overcome the world (since Christianity has never wished to conquer in the worldly sense), that infinite change at which Christianity aims, whereby everything has in truth remained as it was and yet in an infinite sense has become new (for Christianity has never been the friend of neo-mongering )—then I know no briefer or more decisive expression than this: it has made every human relationship between men into a matter of conscience. Christianity has not wished to tumble governments from the throne in order to set itself in their place; it has never in an external sense striven for a place in the world of which it is not a part (for even if it finds a place in the heart’s room, it still has no place in the world), and yet it has infinitely changed everything which it permitted and does permit to continue.

As the blood pulses in every nerve, so Christianity in the consciencerelation wishes to penetrate everything. The change is not in the external, not in the obvious, and yet the change is infinite. As if a man, instead of having blood in his veins had that divine elixir of which paganism dreamed, so Christianity wishes to inspire the everlasting life, the divine in the human race. That is why someone has said that the Christians were a people of priests, and that is why, when we consider the conscience-relation, we might say that the Christians are a people of kings. For take the humblest, the most downtrodden servant, imagine what we call a really simple, poor, wretched charwoman who makes her living by the humblest kind of labor: she has, from the Christian standpoint, the right, moreover we urgently beseech her in the name of Christianity to exercise it, she has the right while she is carrying on her work, to speak with herself and with God, which in no way retards her work; she has the right to say: “I do this work for a daily wage, but that I do it as carefully as I do, that I do—for conscience’s sake!” Ah, from the worldly point of view there is only one man, only one, who recognizes no other obligation than that of conscience: that is the king. And yet that poor woman, from the Christian viewpoint, has the royal right to say to herself before God: “I do it for conscience’s sake!” If the woman is dissatisfied because no man will listen to this speech, then it merely proves that she is not Christ-minded. Otherwise, it seems to me that it would still be enough that God has permitted me to speak thus with Him—covetously to desire freedom of speech in this respect would be a great folly on my part. For there are certain things, and among them particularly the mysteries of inwardness, which lose through being made public, and which are quite lost when the publicity has become the thing of supreme importance to one; moreover there are mysteries which under such circumstances are not merely lost, but straightway become altogether meaningless. Christianity’s divine intention is to say in confidence to every man: “Do not worry about the changing forms of the world or about your condition, as if in order to become an example, instead of being a poor working-woman, you had to be called My Lady.” Oh, no, dedicate yourself to the Christian way, and then it will show you a point outside the world; by the aid of this point you will be able to move both heaven and earth, moreover, you will accomplish the even greater miracle, you will move heaven and earth so quietly, so easily, that no one notices it.”

This is the miracle of Christianity, more wonderful than that one of changing the water into wine; this miracle in all stillness, without any change of rulers, moreover without a hand being moved, of making every man, divinely understood, into a king, so easily, so smoothly, so miraculously, that the world in a certain sense does not need to know it. For in the world outside, there the king will and ought to be the only one who rules according to his conscience; but to obey—for conscience’s sake will be permitted everyone; moreover, no one, no one can prevent it. And there within, there far within, where the Christian dwells in the conscience-relation, there is everything changed.

Lo, the world raises a tumult just to bring about a little change; it sets heaven and earth in motion for nothing, like the mountain which brought forth a mouse: Christianity in all stillness brings about the change of the infinite as if it were nothing. It is so quiet, quiet as nothing worldly can be; as quiet as only the dead and inwardness can be; and what else is Christianity but inwardness!

Thus Christianity transforms every relation between men into a conscience-relationship, and thus also into a love-relationship. It is this we now wish to contemplate, that, according to the Christian understandmg LOVE IS A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE.