| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians by Martin Luther: Christ was made a curse. In II Corinthians 5:21 Paul writes: "For he (God)
hath made him (Christ) to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might
be made the righteousness of God in him." Although this and similar
passages may be properly explained by saying that Christ was made a
sacrifice for the curse and for sin, yet in my judgment it is better to leave
these passages stand as they read: Christ was made sin itself; Christ was
made the curse itself. When a sinner gets wise to himself he does not only
feel miserable, he feels like misery personified; he does not only feel like a
sinner, he feels like sin itself.
To finish with this verse: All evils would have overwhelmed us, as they
shall overwhelm the unbelievers forever, if Christ had not become the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Eryxias by Platonic Imitator: evil. But in that case, if virtue is acquired by instruction, it would
appear that you only pray to be taught what you do not know.
Hereupon I said to Prodicus that it was no misfortune to him if he had been
proved to be in error in supposing that the Gods immediately granted to us
whatever we asked:--if, I added, whenever you go up to the Acropolis you
earnestly entreat the Gods to grant you good things, although you know not
whether they can yield your request, it is as though you went to the doors
of the grammarian and begged him, although you had never made a study of
the art, to give you a knowledge of grammar which would enable you
forthwith to do the business of a grammarian.
While I was speaking, Prodicus was preparing to retaliate upon his youthful
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Woman of No Importance by Oscar Wilde: they are with us, and have amusements from which we are barred, and
interests that are not ours: and they are unjust to us often, for
when they find life bitter they blame us for it, and when they find
it sweet we do not taste its sweetness with them . . . You made
many friends and went into their houses and were glad with them,
and I, knowing my secret, did not dare to follow, but stayed at
home and closed the door, shut out the sun and sat in darkness.
What should I have done in honest households? My past was ever
with me. . . . And you thought I didn't care for the pleasant
things of life. I tell you I longed for them, but did not dare to
touch them, feeling I had no right. You thought I was happier
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