BOOK I.
CONTENTS.
I.HOW BASIL EXCELLED ALL THE FRIENDS OF CHRYSOSTOM.
II.THE UNANIMITY OF BASIL AND CHRYSOSTOM, AND THEIR JOINT STUDY OF ALL SUBJECTS.
III.THE BALANCE UPSET IN THE PURSUIT OF THE MONASTIC LIFE.
IV.THE PROPOSAL TO OCCUPY A COMMON HOME.
V.THE FOND ENTREATIES OF CHRYSOSTOM'S MOTHER.
VI.THE DECEIT EMPLOYED BY CHRYSOSTOM IN THE MATTER OF ORDINATION.
VII.CHRYSOSTOM'S DEFENCE IN REPLY TO OBJECTIONS.
VIII.THE GREAT ADVANTAGE OF DECEIT WHEN WELL TIMED; CONCLUSION AND
GENERAL REMARKS.
1. I HAD many genuine and true friends, men who understood
the laws of friendship, and faithfully observed them; but out of this large
number there was one who excelled all the rest in his attachment to me,
striving to outstrip them as much as they themselves outstripped ordinary
acquaintance. He was one of those who were constantly at my side; for we
were engaged in the same studies, and employed the same teachers.(1) We
had the same eagerness and zeal about the studies at which we worked, and
a passionate desire produced by the same circumstances was equally strong
in both of us. For not only when we were attending school, but after we
had left it, when it became necessary to consider what course of life it
would be best for us to adopt, we found ourselves to be of the same mind.
2. And in addition to these, there were other things
also which preserved and maintained this concord unbroken and secure. For
as regarded the greatness of our fatherland neither had one cause to vaunt
himself over the other, nor was I burdened with riches, and he pinched
by poverty, but our means corresponded as closely as our tastes. Our families
also were of equal rank, and thus everything concurred with our disposition.
3. But when it became our duty to pursue the blessed
life of monks, and the true philosophy,(2) our balance was no longer even,
but his scale mounted high, while I, still entangled in the lusts of this
world, dragged mine down and kept it low, weighting it with those fancies
in which youths are apt to indulge. For the future our friendship indeed
remained as firm as it was before, but our intercourse was interrupted;
for it was impossible for persons who were not interested about the same
things to spend much time together. But as soon as I also began to emerge
a little from the flood of worldliness, he received me with open arms;
yet not even thus could we maintain our former equality: for having got
the start of me in time, and having displayed great earnestness, he rose
again above my level, and soared to a great height.
4. Being a good man, however, and placing a high
value on my friendship, he separated himself from all the rest (of the
brethren), and spent the whole of his time with me, which he had desired
to do before, but had been prevented as I was saying by my frivolity. For
it was impossible for a man who attended the law-courts, and was in a flutter
of excitement
34
about the pleasures of the stage, to be often in the company of one
who was nailed to his books, and never set foot in the market place. Consequently
when the hindrances were removed, and he had brought me into the same condition
of life as himself, he gave free vent to the desire with which he had long
been laboring. He could not bear leaving me even for a moment, and he persistently
urged that we should each of us abandon our own home and share a common
dwelling :--in fact he persuaded me, and the affair was taken in hand.
5. But the continual lamentations of my mother hindered
me from granting him the favor, or rather from receiving this boon at his
hands. For when she perceived that I was meditating this step, she took
me into her own private chamber, and, sitting near me on the bed where
she had given birth to me, she shed torrents of tears, to which she added
words yet more pitiable than her weeping, in the following lamentable strain:
My child, it was not the will of Heaven that I should long enjoy the benefit
of thy father's virtue. For his death soon followed the pangs which I endured
at thy birth, leaving thee an orphan and me a widow before my time to face
all the horrors of widowhood, which only those who have experienced them
can fairly understand. For no words are adequate to describe the tempest-tossed
condition of a young woman who, having but lately left her paternal home,
and being inexperienced in business, is suddenly racked by an overwhelming
sorrow, and compelled to support a load of care too great for her age and
sex. For she has to correct the laziness of servants, and to be on the
watch for their rogueries, to repel the designs of relations, to bear bravely
the threats of those who collect the public taxes,(1) and harshness in
the imposition of rates. And if the departed one should have left a child,
even if it be a girl, great anxiety will be caused to the mother, although
free from much expense and fear: but a boy fills her with ten thousand
alarms and many anxieties every day, to say nothing of the great expense
which one is compelled to incur if she wishes to bring him up in a liberal
way. None of these things, however, induced me to enter into a second marriage,
or introduce a second husband into thy father's house: but I held on as
I was, in the midst of the storm and uproar, and did not shun the iron
furnace(2) of widowhood. My foremost help indeed was the grace from above;
but it was no small consolation to me under those I terrible trials to
look continually on thy face and to preserve in thee a living image of
him who had gone, an image indeed which was a fairly exact likeness.
On this account, even when thou wast an infant,
and hadst not yet learned to speak, a time when children are the greatest
delight to their parents, thou didst afford me much comfort. Nor indeed
can you complain that, although I bore my widowhood bravely, I diminished
thy patrimony, which I know has been the fate of many who have had the
misfortune to be orphans. For, besides keeping the whole of it intact,
I spared no expense which was needful to give you an honorable position,
spending for this purpose some of my own fortune, and of my marriage dowry.
Yet do not think that I say these things by way of reproaching you; only
in return for all these benefits I beg one favor: do not plunge me into
a second widowhood; nor revive the grief which is now laid to rest: wait
for my death: it may be in a little while I shall depart. The young indeed
look forward to a distant old age; but we who have grown old(3) have nothing
but death to wait for. When, then, you shall have committed my body to
the ground, and mingled my bones with thy father's, embark for a long voyage,
and set sail on any sea thou wilt: then there will be no one to hinder
thee: but as long as my life lasts, be content to live with me. Do not,
I pray you, oppose God in vain, involving me without cause, who have done
you no wrong, in these great calamities. For if you have any reason to
complain that I drag you into worldly cares, and force you to attend to
business, do not be restrained by any reverence for the laws of nature,
for training or custom, but fly from me as an enemy; but if, on the contrary,
I do everything to provide leisure for thy journey through this life, let
this bond at least if nothing else keep thee by me. For couldst thou say
that ten thousand loved thee, yet no one will afford thee the enjoyment
of so much liberty, seeing there is no one who is equally anxious for thy
welfare.
6. These words, and more, my mother spake to me,
and I related them to that noble youth. But he, so far from being disheartened
by these speeches, was the more urgent in making the same request as before.
Now while we were thus situated, he continually entreating, and I refusing
my assent, we were both of us disturbed by a report suddenly reaching us
that we were about to be advanced to the dignity of
35
the episcopate.(1) As soon as I heard this rumor I was seized with alarm
and perplexity: with alarm lest I should be made captive against my will,
and perplexity, inquiring as I often did whence any such idea concerning
us could have entered the minds of these men; for looking to myself I found
nothing worthy of such an honor. But that noble youth having come to me
privately, and having conferred with me about these things as if with one
who was ignorant of the rumor, begged that we might in this instance also
as formerly shape our action and our counsels the same way: for he would
readily follow me whichever course I might pursue, whether I attempted
flight or submitted to be captured. Perceiving then his eagerness, and
considering that I should inflict a loss upon the whole body of the Church
if, owing to my own weakness, I were to deprive the flock of Christ of
a young man who was so good and so well qualified for the supervision of
large numbers, I abstained from disclosing to him the purpose which I had
formed, although I had never before allowed any of my plans to be concealed
from him. I now told him that it would be best to postpone our decision
concerning this matter to another season, as it was not immediately pressing,
and by so doing persuaded him to dismiss it from his thoughts, and at the
same time encouraged him to hope that, if such a thing should ever happen
to us, I should be of the same mind with him. But after a short time, when
one who was to ordain us arrived, I kept myself concealed, but Basil, ignorant
of this, was taken away on another pretext, and made to take the yoke,
hoping from the promises which I had made to him that I should certainly
follows or rather supposing that he was following me. For some of those
who were present, seeing that he resented being seized, deceived him by
exclaiming how strange it was that one who was generally reputed to be
the more hot tempered (meaning me), had yielded very mildly to the judgment
of the Fathers, whereas he, who was reckoned a much wiser and milder kind
of man, had shown himself hotheaded and conceited, being unruly, restive,
and contradictory.(2) Having yielded to these remonstrances, and afterwards
having learned that I had escaped capture, he came to me in deep dejection,
sat down near me and tried to speak, but was hindered by distress of mind
and inability to express in words the violence to which he had been subjected.
No sooner had he opened his mouth than he was prevented from utterance
by grief cutting short his words before they could pass his lips. Seeing,
then, his tearful and agitated condition, and knowing as I did the cause,
I laughed for joy, and, seizing his right hand, I forced a kiss on him,
and praised God that my plan had ended so successfully, as I had always
prayed it might. But when he saw that I was delighted and beaming with
joy, and understood that he had been deceived by me, he was yet more vexed
and distressed.
7. And when he had a little recovered from this
agitation of mind, he began: If you have rejected the part allotted to
you, and have no further regard for me (I know not indeed for what cause),
you ought at least to consider your own reputation; but as it is you have
opened the mouths of all, and the world is saying that you have declined
this ministry through love of vainglory, and there is no one who will deliver
you from this accusation. As for me, I cannot bear to go into the market
place; there are so many who come up to me and reproach me every day. For,
when they see me anywhere in the city, all my intimate friends take me
aside, and cast the greater part of the blame upon me. Knowing his intention,
they say, for none of his affairs could be kept secret from you, you should
not have concealed it, but ought to have communicated it to us, and we
should have been at no loss to devise some plan for capturing him. But
I am too much ashamed and abashed to tell them that I did not know you
had long been plotting this trick, lest they should say that our friendship
was a mere pretence. For even if it is so, as indeed it is--nor would you
yourself deny it after what you have done to me--yet it is well to hide
our misfortune from the outside world, and persons who entertain but a
moderate opinion of us. I shrink from telling them the truth, and how things
really stand with us, and I am compelled in future to keep silence, and
look down on the ground, and turn away to avoid those whom I meet. For
if I escape the condemnation on the former charge, I am forced to undergo
judgment for speaking falsehood. For they will never believe me when I
say that you ranged Basil amongst those who are not permitted to know your
secret affairs. Of this, however, I will not take much account, since it
has seemed agreeable to you, but how shall we endure the future disgrace?
for some accuse you of arrogance, others of vainglory: while those
36
who are our more merciful accusers, lay both these offences to our charge,
and add that we have insulted those who did us honor, although had they
experienced even greater indignity it would only have served them right
for passing over so many and such distinguished men and advancing mere
youths,(1) who were but yesterday immersed in the interests of this world,
to such a dignity as they never have dreamed of obtaining, in order that
they may for a brief season knit the eyebrows, wear dusky garments, and
put on a grave face. Those who from the dawn of manhood to extreme old
age have diligently practised self-discipline, are now to be placed under
the government of youths who have not even heard the laws which should
regulate their administration of this office. I am perpetually assailed
by persons who say such things and worse, and am at a loss how to reply
to them; but I pray you tell me: for I do not suppose that you took to
flight and incurred such hatred from such distinguished men without cause
or consideration, but that your decision was made with reasoning and circumspection:
whence also I conjecture that you have some argument ready for your defence.
Tell me, then, whether there is any fair excuse which I can make to those
who accuse us.
For I do not demand any account for the wrongs which
I have sustained at your hands, nor for the deceit or treachery you have
practised, nor for the advantage which you have derived from me in the
past. For I placed my very life, so to say, in your hands, yet you have
treated me with as much guile as if it had been your business to guard
yourself against an enemy. Yet if you knew this decision of ours to be
profitable, you ought not to have avoided the gain: if on the contrary
injurious, you should have saved me also from the loss, as you always said
that you esteemed me before every one else. But you have done everything
to make me fall into the snare: and you had no need of guile and hypocrisy
in dealing with one who was wont to display the utmost sincerity and candor
in speech and action towards thee. Nevertheless, as I said, I do not now
accuse you of any of these things, or reproach you for the lonely position
in which you have placed me by breaking off those conferences from which
we often derived no small pleasure and profit; but all these things I pass
by, and bear in silence and meekness, not that thou hast acted meekly in
transgressing against me, but because from the day that I cherished thy
friendship I laid it down as a rule for myself, that whatever sorrow you
might cause me I would never force you to the necessity of an apology.
For you know yourself that you have inflicted no small loss on me if at
least you remember what we were always saying ourselves, and the outside
world also said concerning us, that it was a great gain for us to be of
one mind and be guarded by each other's friendship. Every one said, indeed,
that our concord would bring no small advantage to many besides ourselves;
I never perceived, however, so far as I am concerned, how it could be of
advantage to others: but I did say that we should at least derive this
benefit from it: that those who wished to contend with us would find us
difficult to master. And I never ceased reminding you of these things:
saying the age is a cruel one, and designing men are many, genuine love
is no more, and the deadly pest of envy has crept into its place: we walk
in the midst of snares, and on the edge of battlements;(2) those who are
ready to rejoice in our misfortunes, if any should befall us, are many
and beset us from many quarters: whereas there is no one to condole with
us, or at least the number of such may be easily counted. Beware that we
do not by separation incur much ridicule, and damage worse than ridicule.
Brother aided by brother is like a strong city, and well fortified kingdom.(3)
Do not dissolve this genuine intimacy, nor break down the fortress. Such
things and more I was continually saying, not indeed that I ever suspected
anything of this kind, but supposing you to be entirely sound in your relation
towards me, I did it as a superfluous precaution, wishing to preserve in
health one who was already sound; but unwittingly, as it seems, I was administering
medicines to a sick man: and even so I have not been fortunate enough to
do any good, and have gained nothing by my excess of forethought. For having
totally cast away all these considerations, without giving them a thought,
you have turned me adrift like an unballasted vessel on an untried ocean,
taking no heed of those fierce billows which I must encounter. For if it
should ever be my lot to undergo calumny, or mockery, or any other kind
of insult or menace (and such things must frequently occur), to whom shall
I fly for refuge: to whom shall I impart my distress, who will be willing
to succour me and drive back my assailants and put a stop to their assaults?
who
37
will solace me and prepare me to bear the coarse ribaldry which may
yet be in store for me. There is no one since you stand aloof from this
terrible strife, and cannot even hear my cry. Seest thou then what mischief
thou hast wrought? now that thou hast dealt the blow, dost thou perceive
what a deadly wound thou hast inflicted? But let all this pass: for it
is impossible to undo the past, or to find a path through pathless difficulties.
What shall I say to the outside world? what defence shall I make to their
accusations.
8. CHRYSOSTOM: Be of good cheer, I replied, for
I am not only ready to answer for myself in these matters, but I will also
endeavor as well as I am able to render an account of those for which you
have not held me answerable. Indeed, if you wish it, I will make them the
starting-point of my defence. For it would be a strange piece of stupidity
on my part if, thinking only of praise from the outside public, and doing
my best to silence their accusations, I were unable to convince my dearest
of all friends that I am not wronging him, and were to treat him with indifference
greater than the zeal which he has displayed on my behalf, treating me
with such forbearance as even to refrain from accusing me of the wrongs
which he says he has suffered from me, and putting his own interests out
of the question in consideration for mine.
What is the wrong that I have done thee, since I
have determined to embark from this point upon the sea of apology? Is it
that I misled you and concealed my purpose? Yet I did it for the benefit
of thyself who wast deceived, and of those to whom I surrendered you by
means of this deceit. For if the evil of deception is absolute, and it
is never right to make use of it, I am prepared to pay any penalty you
please: or rather, as you will never endure to inflict punishment upon
me, I shall subject myself to the same condemnation which is pronounced
by judges on evil-doers when their accusers have convicted them. But if
the thing is not always harmful, but becomes good or bad according to the
intention of those who practise it, you must desist from complaining of
deceit, and prove that it has been devised against you for a bad purpose;
and as long as this proof is wanting it would only be fair for those who
wish to conduct themselves prudently, not only to abstain from reproaches
and accusation, but even to give a friendly reception to the deceiver.
For a well-timed deception, undertaken with an upright intention, has such
advantages, that many persons have often had to undergo punishment for
abstaining from fraud. And if you investigate the history of generals who
have enjoyed the highest reputation from the earliest ages, you will find
that most of their triumphs were achieved by stratagem, and that such are
more highly commended than those who conquer in open fight. For the latter
conduct their campaigns with greater expenditure of money and men, so that
they gain nothing by the victory, but suffer just as much distress as those
who have been defeated, both in the sacrifice of troops and the exhaustion
of funds. But, besides this, they are not even permitted to enjoy all the
glory which pertains to the victory; for no small part of it is reaped
by those who have fallen, because in spirit they were victorious, their
defeat was only a bodily one: so that had it been possible for them not
to fall when they were wounded, and death had not come and put the finishing
stroke to their labors, there would have been no end of their prowess.
But one who has been able to gain the victory by stratagem involves the
enemy in ridicule as well as disaster. Again, in the other case both sides
equally carry off the honors bestowed upon valor, whereas in this case
they do not equally obtain those which are bestowed on wisdom, but the
prize falls entirely to the victors, and, another point no less important
is that they preserve the joy of the victory for the state unalloyed; for
abundance of resources and multitudes of men are not like mental powers:
the former indeed if continually used in war necessarily become exhausted,
and fail those who possess them, whereas it is the nature of wisdom to
increase the more it is exercised. And not in war only, but also in peace
the need of deceit may be found, not merely in reference to the affairs
of the state, but also in private life, in the dealings of husband with
wife and wife with husband, son with father, friend with friend, and also
children with a parent. For the daughter of Saul would not have been able
to rescue her husband out of Saul's hands' except by deceiving her father.
And her brother, wish-bag to save him whom she had rescued when he was
again in danger, made use of the same weapon as the wife?
BASIL: But none of these cases apply to me: for
I am not an enemy, nor one of those who are striving to injure thee, but
quite the contrary. For I entrusted all my interests to your judgment,
and always followed it whenever you bid me.
CHRYSOSTOM: But, my admirable and excellent Sir,
this is the very reason why I took the precaution of saying that it was
a good thing to employ this kind of deceit, not only in war, and in dealing
with enemies, but also
38
in peace, and in dealing with our dearest friends. For as a proof that
it is beneficial not only to the deceivers, but also to those who are deceived;
if you go to any of the physicians and ask them how they relieve their
patients from disease, they will tell you that they do not depend upon
their professional skill alone, but sometimes conduct the sick to health
by availing themselves of deceit, and blending the assistance which they
derive from it with their art. For when the waywardness of the patient
and the obstinacy of the complaint baffle the counsels of the physicians,
it is then necessary to put on the mask of deceit in order that, as on
the stage, they may be able to hide what really takes place. But, if you
please, I will relate to you one instance of stratagem out of many which
I have heard of being contrived by the sons of the healing art.(1) A man
was once suddenly attacked by a fever of great severity; the burning heat
increased, and the patient rejected the remedies which could have reduced
it and craved for a draught of pure wine, passionately entreating all who
approached to give it him and enable him to satiate this deadly craving--I
say deadly, for if any one had gratified this request he would not only
have exasperated the fever, but also have driven the unhappy man frantic.
Thereupon, professional skill being baffled, and at the end of its resources
and utterly thrown away, stratagem stepped in and displayed its power in
the way which I will now relate. For the physician took an earthen cup
brought straight out of the furnace, and having steeped it in wine, then
drew it out empty, filled it with water, and, having ordered the chamber
where the sick man lay to be darkened with curtains that the light might
not reveal the trick, he gave it him to drink, pretending that it was filled
with undiluted wine. And the man, before he had taken it in his hands,
being deceived by the smell, did not wait to examine what was given him,
but convinced by the odor, and deceived by the darkness, eagerly gulped
down the draught, and being satiated with it immediately shook off the
feeling of suffocation and escaped the imminent peril.(2) Do you see the
advantage of deceit? And if any one were to reckon up all the tricks of
physicians the list would run on to an indefinite length. And not only
those who heal the body but those also who attend [to the diseases of the
soul may be found continually making use of this remedy. Thus the blessed
Paul attracted those multitudes of Jews:(3) with this purpose he circumcised
Timothy,(4) although he warned the Galatians in his letter(5) that Christ
would not profit those who were circumcised. For this cause he submitted
to the law, although he reckoned the righteousness which came from the
law but loss after receiving the faith in Christ.(6) For great is the value
of deceit, provided it be not introduced with a mischievous intention.
In fact action of this kind ought not to be called deceit, but rather a
kind of good management, cleverness and skill, capable of finding out ways
where resources fail, and making up for the defects of the mind. For I
would not call Phinees a murderer, although he slew two human beings with
one stroke:(7) nor yet Elias after the slaughter of the 100 soldiers, and
the captain,(8) and the torrents of blood which he caused to be shed by
the destruction of those who sacrificed to devils.(9) For if we were to
concede this, and to examine the bare deeds in themselves apart from the
intention of the doers, one might if he pleased judge Abraham guilty of
child-murder(10) and accuse his grandson(11) and descendant(12) of wickedness
and guile. For the one got possession of the birthright, and the other
transferred the wealth of the Egyptians to the host of the Israelites.
But this is not the case: away with the audacious thought! For we not only
acquit them of blame, but also admire them because of these things, since
even God commended them for the same. For that man would fairly deserve
to be called a deceiver who made an unrighteous use of the practice, not
one who did so with a salutary purpose. And often it is necessary to deceive,
and to do the greatest benefits by means of this device, whereas he who
has gone by a straight course has done great mischief to the person whom
he has not deceived.
1. THAT it is possible then to make use of deceit
for a good purpose, or rather that in such a case it ought not to be called
deceit, but a kind of good management worthy of all admiration, might be
proved at greater length; but since what has already been said suffices
for demonstration, it would be irksome and tedious to lengthen out my discourse
upon the subject. And now it will remain for you to pave whether I have
not employed this art to your advantage.
BASIL: And what kind of advantage have I derived
from this piece of good management, or wise policy, or whatever you may
please to call it, so as to persuade me that I have not been deceived by
you?
CHRYSOSTOM: What advantage, pray, could be greater
than to be seen doing those things which Christ with his own lips declared
to be proofs of love to Himself?(1) For addressing the leader of the apostles
He said, "Peter, lovest thou me?" and when he confessed that he did, the
Lord added, "if thou lovest me tend my sheep." The Master asked the disciple
if He was loved by him, not in order' to get information (how should He
who penetrates the hearts of all men?), but in order to teach us how great
an interest He takes in the superintendence of these sheep. This being
plain, it will likewise be manifest that a great and unspeakable reward
will be reserved for him whose labors are concerned with these sheep, upon
which Christ places such a high value. For when we see any one bestowing
care upon members of our household, or upon our flocks, we count his zeal
for them as a sign of love towards ourselves: yet all these things are
to be bought for money :--with how great a gift then will He requite those
who tend the flock which He purchased, not with money, nor anything of
that kind, but by His own death, giving his own blood as the price of the
herd. Wherefore when the disciple said, "Thou knowest Lord that I love
Thee," and invoked the beloved one Himself as a witness of his love, the
Saviour did not stop there, but added that which was the token of love.
For He did not at that time wish to show how much Peter loved Him, but
how much He Himself loved His own Church, and he desired to teach Peter
and all of us that we also should bestow much zeal upon the same. For why
did God not spare His only-begotten Son, but delivered Him up, although
the only one He had?(2) It was that He might reconcile to Himself those
who were disposed towards Him as enemies, and make them His peculiar people.
For what purpose did He shed His blood? It was that He might win these
sheep which He entrusted to Peter and his successors. Naturally then did
Christ say, "Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom his lord shall
make ruler over His household."(3) Again, the
40
words are those of one who is in doubt, yet the speaker did not utter
them in doubt, but just as He asked Peter whether he loved Him, not from
any need to learn the affection of the disciple, but from a desire to show
the exceeding depth of his own love: so now also when He says, "Who then
is the faithful and wise servant ?" he speaks not as being ignorant who
is faithful and wise, but as desiring to set forth the rarity of such a
character, and the greatness of this office. Observe at any rate how great
the reward is--" He will appoint him," he says, "ruler over all his goods."(1)
2. Will you, then, still contend that you were not
rightly deceived, when you are about to superintend the things which belong
to God, and are doing that which when Peter did the Lord said he should
be able to surpass the rest of the apostles, for His words were, "Peter,
lovest thou me more than these?"(2) Yet He might have said to him, "If
thou lovest me practise fasting, sleeping on the ground, and prolonged
vigils, defend the wronged, be as a father to orphans, and supply the place
of a husband to their mother." But as a matter of fact, setting aside all
these things, what does He say? "Tend my sheep." For those things which
I have already mentioned might easily be performed by many even of those
who are under authority, women as well as men; but when one is required
to preside over the Church, and to be entrusted with the care of so many
souls, the whole female sex must retire before the magnitude of the task,
and the majority of men also; and we must bring forward those who to a
large extent surpass all others, and soar as much above them in excellence
of spirit as Saul overtopped the whole Hebrew nation in bodily stature:
or rather far more.(3) For in this case let me not take the height of shoulders
as the standard of inquiry; but let the distinction between the pastor
and his charge be as great as that between rational man and irrational
creatures, not to say even greater, inasmuch as the risk is concerned with
things of far greater importance. He indeed who has lost sheep, either
through the ravages of wolves, or the attacks of robbers, or through murrain,
or any other disaster befalling them, might perhaps obtain some indulgence
from the owner of the flock; and even if the latter should demand satisfaction
the penalty would be only a matter of money: but he who has human beings
entrusted to him, the rational flock of Christ, incurs a penalty in the
first place for the loss of the sheep, which goes beyond material things
and touches his own life: and in the second place he has to carry on a
far greater and more difficult contest. For he has not to contend with
wolves, nor to dread robbers, nor to consider how he may avert pestilence
from the flock. With whom then has he to fight? with whom has he to wrestle?
Listen to the words of St. Paul. "We wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of
the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."(4)
Do you see the terrible multitude of enemies, and their fierce squadrons,
not steel clad, but endued with a nature which is of itself an equivalent
for a complete suit of armor. Would you see yet another host, stern and
cruel, beleaguering this flock? This also you shall behold from the same
post of observation. For he who has discoursed to us concerning the others,
points out these enemies also to us, speaking in a certain place on this
wise: "The works of the flesh are manifest, which are these, fornication,
adultery, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance,
emulation, wrath, strife,(5) backbitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults,"(6)
and many more besides; for he did not make a complete list, but left us
to understand the rest from these. Moreover, in the case of the shepherd
of irrational creatures, those who wish to destroy the flock, when they
see the guardian take to flight, cease making war upon him, and are contented
with the seizure of the cattle: but in this case, even should they capture
the whole flock, they do not leave the shepherd unmolested, but attack
him all the more, and wax bolder, ceasing not until they have either overthrown
him, or have themselves been vanquished. Again, the afflictions of sheep
are manifest, whether it be famine, or pestilence, or wounds, or whatsoever
else it may be which distresses them, and this might help not a little
towards the relief of those who are oppressed in these ways. And there
is yet another fact greater than this which facilitates release from this
kind of infirmity. And what is that? The shepherds with great authority
compel the sheep to receive the remedy when they do not willingly submit
to it. For it is easy to bind them when cautery or cutting is required,
and to keep them inside the fold for a long time, whenever it is expedient,
and to bring them one kind of food instead of another, and to cut them
off from their supplies of water, and all other things which the shepherds
may decide to be conducive to their health they perform with great ease.
41
3. But in the case of human infirmities, it is not
easy in the first place for a man to discern them, for no man "knoweth
the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him."(1) How then
can any one apply the remedy for the disease of which he does not know
the character, often indeed being unable to understand it even should he
happen to sicken with it himself? And even when it becomes manifest, it
causes him yet more trouble: for it is not possible to doctor all men with
the same authority with which the shepherd treats his sheep. For in this
case also it is necessary to bind and to restrain from food, and to use
cautery or the knife: but the reception of the treatment depends on the
will of the patient, not of him who applies the remedy. For this also was
perceived by that wonderful man (St. Paul) when he said to the Corinthians--"Not
for that we have dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your joy."(2)
For Christians above all men are not permitted forcibly to correct the
failings of those who sin. Secular judges indeed, when they have captured
malefactors under the law, show their authority to be great, and prevent
them even against their will from following their own devices: but in our
case the wrong-doer must be made better, not by force, but by persuasion.
For neither has authority of this kind for the restraint of sinners been
given us by law, nor, if it had been given, should we have any field for
the exercise of our power, inasmuch as God rewards those who abstain from
evil by their own choice, not of necessity. Consequently much skill is
required that our patients may be induced to submit willingly to the treatment
prescribed by the physicians, and not only this, but that they may be grateful
also for the cure. For if any one when he is bound becomes restive (which
it is in his power to be), he makes the mischief worse; and if he should
pay no heed to the words which cut like steel, he inflicts another
wound by means of this contempt, and the intention to heal only becomes
the occasion of a worse disorder. For it is not possible for any one to
cure a man by compulsion against his will.
4. What then is one to do? For if you deal too gently
with him who needs a severe application of the knife, and do not strike
deep into one who requires such treatment, you remove one Dart of the sore
but leave the other: and if on the other hand you make the requisite incision
unsparingly, the patient,driven to desperation by his sufferings, will
often fling everything away at once, both the remedy and the bandage, and
throw himself down headlong, "breaking the yoke and bursting the band."(3)
I could tell of many who have run into extreme evils because the due penalty
of their sins was exacted. For we ought not, in applying punishment, merely
to proportion it to the scale of the offence, but rather to keep in view
the disposition of the sinner, lest whilst wishing to mend what is torn,
you make the rent worse, and in your zealous endeavors to restore what
is fallen, you make the ruin greater. For weak and careless characters,
addicted for the most part to the pleasures of the world, and having occasion
to be proud on account of birth and position, may yet, if gently and gradually
brought to repent of their errors, be delivered, partially at least, if
not perfectly, from the evils by which they are possessed: but if any one
were to inflict the discipline all at once, he would deprive them of this
slight chance of amendment. For when once the soul has been forced to put
off shame it lapses into a callous condition, and neither yields to kindly
words nor bends to threats, nor is susceptible of gratitude, but becomes
far worse than that city which the prophet reproached, saying, "thou hadst
the face of a harlot, refusing to be ashamed before all men."(4) Therefore
the pastor has need of much discretion, and of a myriad eyes to observe
on every side the habit of the soul. For as many are uplifted to pride,
and then sink into despair of their salvation, from inability to endure
severe remedies, so are there some, who from paying no penalty equivalent
to their sins, fall into negligence, and become far worse, and are
impelled to greater sins. It behoves the priest therefore to leave none
of these things unexamined, but, after a thorough inquiry into all of them,
to apply such remedies as he has appositely to each case, lest his zeal
prove to be in vain. And not m this matter only, but also in the
work of knitting together the severed members of the Church, one can see
that he has much to do. For the pastor of sheep has his flock following
him, wherever he may lead them: and if any should stray out
of the straight path, and, deserting the good pasture, feed in unproductive
or rugged place, a loud shout suffices to collect them and bring back to
the fold those who have been parted from it: but if a human being wanders
away from the right faith, great exertion, perseverance and patience tare
required; for he cannot be dragged back by force, nor constrained
by fear, but must be led back by persuasion to the truth from
which be originally swerved. The pastor therefore ought to be of a noble
spirit, so as not to despond, or to despair of the salvation of wan-
42
derers from the fold, but continually to reason with himself and say,
"Peradventure God will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the
truth, and that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil."(1)
Therefore the Lord, when addressing His disciples, said, "Who then is the
faithful and wise servant?"(2) For he indeed who disciplines himself compasses
only his own advantage, but the benefit of the pastoral function extends
to the whole people. And one who dispenses money to the needy, or otherwise
succors the oppressed, benefits his neighbors to some extent, but so much
less than the priest in proportion as the body is inferior to the soul.
Rightly therefore did the Lord say that zeal for the flock was a token
of love for Himself.
BASIL: But thou thyself--dost thou not love Christ?
Chrysostom: Yea, I love Him, and shall never cease loving Him;
but I fear lest I should provoke Him whom I love.
BASIL: But what riddle can there be more obscure than this--Christ
has commanded him who loves Him to tend His sheep, and yet you say that
you decline to tend them because you love Him who gave this command?
Chrysostom: My saying is no riddle, but very intelligible
and simple, for if I were well qualified to administer this office, as
Christ desired it, and then shunned it, my remark might be open to doubt,
but since the infirmity of my spirit renders me useless for this ministry,
why does my saying deserve to be called in question? For I fear lest if
I took the flock in hand when it was in good condition and well nourished,
and then wasted it through my unskilfulness, I should provoke against myself
the God who so loved the flock as to give Himself up for their salvation
and ransom.
BASIL: You speak in jest: for if you were in earnest
I know not how you would have proved me to be justly grieved otherwise
than by means of these very words whereby you have endeavored to dispel
my dejection. I knew indeed before that you had deceived and betrayed me,
but much more now, when you have undertaken to clear yourself of my accusations,
do I plainly perceive and understand the extent of the evils into which
you have led me. For if you withdrew yourself from this ministry because
you were conscious that your spirit was not equal to the burden of the
task, I ought to have been rescued from it before you, even if I had chanced
to have a great desire for it, to say nothing of having confided to you
the entire decision of these matters: but as it is, you have looked solely
to your own interest and neglected mine. Would indeed you had entirely
neglected them; then I should have been well content: but you plotted to
facilitate my capture by those who wished to seize me. For you cannot take
shelter in the argument that public opinion deceived you and induced you
to imagine great and wonderful things concerning me. For I was none of
your wonderful and distinguished men, nor, had this been the case, ought
you to have preferred public opinion to truth. For if I had never permitted
you to enjoy my society, you might have seemed to have a reasonable pretext
for being guided in your vote by public report; but if there is no one
who has such thorough knowledge of my affairs, if you are acquainted with
my character better than my parents and those who brought me up, what argument
can you employ which will be convincing enough to persuade your hearers
that you did not purposely thrust me into this danger: say, what answer
shall I make to your accusers?
CHRYSOSTOM: Nay! I will not proceed to those questions
until I have resolved such as concern yourself alone, if you were to ask
me ten thousand times to dispose of these charges. You said indeed that
ignorance would bring me forgiveness, and that I should have been free
from all accusation if I had brought you into your present position not
knowing anything about you, but that as I did not betray you in ignorance,
but was intimately acquainted with your affairs, I was deprived of all
reasonable pretext and excuse. But I say precisely the reverse: for in
such matters there is need of careful scrutiny, and he who is going to
present any one as qualified for the priesthood ought not to be content
with public report only, but should also himself, above all and before
all, investigate the man's character. For when the blessed Paul says, "He
must also have a good report of them which are without,"(3) he does not
dispense with an exact and rigorous inquiry, nor does he assign to such
testimony precedence over the scrutiny required in such cases. For after
much previous discourse, he mentioned this additional testimony, proving
that one must not be contented with it alone for elections of this kind,
but take it into consideration along with the rest. For public report often
speaks false; but when careful investigation precedes, no further danger
need be apprehended from it. On this account, after the other kinds of
evidence he places that which comes from those who are without. For he
did not simply say, "he must have a good report," but added the
43
words, "from them which are without," wishing to show that before the
report of those without he must be carefully examined. Inasmuch, then,
as I myself knew your affairs better than your parents, as you also yourself
acknowledged, I might deserve to be released from all blame.
BASIL: Nay this is the very reason why you could
not escape, if any one chose to indite you. Do you not remember hearing
from me, and often learning from my actual conduct, the feebleness of my
character? Were you not perpetually taunting me for my pusillanimity, because
I was so easily dejected by ordinary cares?
5. CHRYSOSTOM: I do indeed remember often hearing
such things said by you; I would not deny it. But if I ever taunted you,
I did it in sport and not in serious truth. However, I do not now dispute
about these matters, and I claim the same degree of forbearance from you
while I wish to make mention of some of the good qualities which you possess.
For if you attempt to convict me of saying what is untrue, I shall not
spare you, but shall drove that you say these things rather by way of self--depreciation
than with a view to truth, and I will employ no evidence but your own words
and deeds to demonstrate the truth of my assertion. And now the first question
I wish to ask of you is this: do you know how great the power of love is?
For omitting all the miracles which were to be wrought by the apostles,
Christ said, "Hereby shall men know that ye are my disciples if ye love
one another,"(1) and Paul said that it was the fulfilling of the law,(2)
and that in default of it no spiritual gift had any profit. Well, this
choice good, the distinguishing mark of Christ's disciples, the gift which
is higher than all other gifts, I perceived to be deeply implanted in your
soul, and teeming with much fruit.
BASIL: I acknowledge indeed that the matter is one
of deep concern to me, and that I endeavor most earnestly to keep this
commandment, but that I have not even half succeeded in so doing,
even you yourself would bear me witness if you would leave off talking
out of partiality, and simply respect the truth.
6. CHRYSOSTOM: Well, then, I shall betake myself
to my evidences, and shall now do what I threatened, proving that you wish
to disparage yourself rather than to speak the truth. But I will mention
a fact which has only just occurred, that no one may suspect me of attempting
to obscure the truth by the great lapse of time in relating events long
past, as oblivion would then prevent any objection being made to the things
which I might say with a view to gratification.(3) For when one of our
intimate friends, having been falsely accused of insult and folly, was
in extreme peril, you then flung yourself into the midst of the danger,
although you were not summoned by any one, or appealed to by the person
who was about to be involved in danger. Such was the fact: but that I may
convict you out of your own mouth, I will remind you of the words you uttered:
for when some did not approve of this zeal, while others commended and
admired it, "How can I help myself?" you said to those who accused you,
"for I do not know how otherwise to love than by giving up my life when
it is necessary to save any of my friends who is in danger:" thus repeating,
in different words, indeed, but with the same meaning, what Christ said
to his disciples when he laid down the definition of perfect love. "Greater
love," He said, "hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for
his friends." If then it is impossible to find greater love than this,
you have attained its limit, and both by your deeds and words have crowned
the summit. This is why I betrayed you, this is why I contrived that plot.
Do I now convince you that it was not from any malicious intent, nor from
any desire to thrust you into danger, but from a persuasion of your future
usefulness that I dragged you into this course?
BASIL: Do you then suppose that love is sufficient
for the correction of one's fellowmen?
CHRYSOSTOM: Certainly it would contribute in a great
measure to this end. But if you wish me to produce evidence of your practical
wisdom also, I will proceed to, do so, and will prove that your understanding
exceeds your loving-kindness.
At these remarks he blushed scarlet and said, "Let
my character be now dismissed: for it was not about this that I originally
demanded an explanation; but if you have any just answer to make to those
who are without, I would gladly hear what you have to say. Wherefore, abandoning
this vain contest, tell me what defence I shall make, both to those who
have honored you and to those who are distressed on their account, considering
them to be insulted.
7. CHRYSOSTOM: This is just the point to which I
am finally hastening, for as my ex-
44
planation to you has been completed I shall easily turn to this part
of my defence. What then is the accusation made by these persons, and what
are their charges? They say that they have been insulted and grievously
wronged by me because I have not accepted the honor which they wished to
confer upon me. Now in the first place I say that no account should be
taken of the insult shown to men, seeing that by paying honor to them I
should be compelled to offend God. And I should say to those who are displeased
that it is not safe to take offence at these things, but does them much
harm. For I think that those who stay themselves on God and look to Him
alone, ought to be so religiously disposed as not to account such a thing
an insult, even if they happened to be a thousand times dishonored. But
that I have not gone so far as even to think of daring anything of this
kind is manifest from what I am about to say. For if indeed I had been
induced by arrogance and vainglory, as you have often said some slanderously
affirm, to assent to my accusers, I should have been one of the most iniquitous:
of mankind, having treated great and excellent men, my benefactors moreover,
with contempt. For if men ought to be punished for wronging those who have
never wronged them, how ought we to honor those who have spontaneously
preferred to honor us? For no one could possibly say that they were requiting
me for any benefits small or great which they had received at my hands.
How great a punishment then would one deserve if one requited them in the
contrary manner. But if such a thing never entered my mind, and I declined
the heavy burden with quite a different intention, why do they refuse to
pardon me (even if they do not consent to approve), but accuse me of having
selfishly spared my own soul? For so far from having insulted the men in
question I should say that I had even honored them by my refusal.
And do not be surprised at the paradoxical nature
of my remark, for I shall supply a speedy solution of it.
8. For had I accepted the office, I do not say all
men, but those who take pleasure in speaking evil, might have suspected
and said many things concerning myself who had been elected and concerning
them, the electors: for instance, that they regarded wealth, and admired
splendor of rank; or had been induced by flattery to promote me to this
honor: indeed I cannot say whether some one might not have suspected that
they were bribed by money. Moreover, they would have said, "Christ called
fishermen, tentmakers, and publicans to this dignity,whereas these men
reject those who support themselves by daily labor: but if there be any
one who devotes himself to secular learning, and is brought up in idleness,
him they receive and admire. For why, pray, have they passed by men who
have undergone innumerable toils in the service of the Church, and suddenly
dragged into this dignity one who has never experienced any labors of this
kind, but has spent all his youth in the vain study of secular learning."
These things and more they might have said had I accepted the office: but
not so now. For every pretext for maligning is now cut away from them,
and they can neither accuse me of flattery, nor the others of receiving
bribes, unless some choose to act like mere madmen. For how could one who
used flattery and expended money in order to obtain the dignity, have abandoned
it to others when he might have obtained it? For this would be just as
if a man who had bestowed much labor upon the ground in order that the
corn field might be laden with abundant produce, and the presses overflow
with wine, after innumerable toils and great expenditure of money were
to surrender the fruits to others just when it was time to reap his corn
and gather in his vintage. Do you see that although what was said might
be far from the truth, nevertheless those who wished to calumniate the
electors would then have had a pretext for alleging that the choice was
made without fair judgment and consideration. But as it is I have prevented
them from being open mouthed, or even uttering a single word on the subject.
Such then and more would have been their remarks at the outset. But after
undertaking the ministry I should not have been able day by day to defend
myself against accusers, even if I had done everything faultlessly, to
say nothing of the many mistakes which I must have made owing to my youth
and inexperience. But now I have saved the electors from this kind of accusation
also, whereas in the other case I should have involved them in innumerable
reproaches. For what would not the world have said? "They have committed
affairs of such vast interest and importance to thoughtless youths, they
have defiled the flock of God, and Christian affairs have become a jest
and a laughingstock." But now "all iniquity shall stop her mouth."(1) For
although they may say these things on your account, you will speedily teach
them by your acts that understanding is not to be estimated by age, and
the grey head is not to be the test of an elder--that the young man ought
not to be absolutely excluded from the ministry, but only the novice: and
the difference between the two is great.
1. CHRYSOSTOM: As regards the insult to those who have
done me honor, what I have already said might be sufficient to prove that
in avoiding this office I had no desire to put them to shame; but I will
now endeavor to make it evident, to the best of my ability, that I was
not puffed up by arrogance of any kind. For if the choice of a generalship
or a kingdom had been submitted to me, and I had then formed this resolution,
any one might naturally have suspected me of this fault, or rather I should
have been found guilty by all men, not of arrogance, but of senseless folly.
But when the priesthood is offered to me, which exceeds a kingdom as much
as the spirit differs from the flesh, will any one dare to accuse me of
disdain? And is it not preposterous to charge with folly those who reject
small things, but when any do this in matters of preeminent importance,
to exempt such persons from accusations of mental derangement, and yet
subject them to the charge of pride? It is just as if one were to accuse,
not of pride, but of insanity, a man who looked with contempt on a herd
of oxen and refused to be a herdsman, and yet were to say that a man who
declined the empire of the world, and the command of all the armies of
the earth, was not mad, but inflated with pride. But this assuredly is
not the case; and they who say such things do not injure me more than they
injure themselves. For merely to imagine it possible for human nature to
despise this dignity is an evidence against those who bring this charge
of the estimate which they have formed of the office. For if they did not
consider it to be an ordinary thing of no great account, such a suspicion
as this would never have entered their heads. For why is it that no one
has ever dared to entertain such a suspicion with reference to the dignity
of the angels, and to say that arrogance is the reason why human nature
would not aspire to the rank of the angelic nature? It is because we imagine
great things concerning those powers, and this does not suffer us to believe
that a man can conceive anything greater than that honor. Wherefore one
might with more justice indite those persons of arrogance who accuse me
of it. For they would never have suspected this of others if they had not
previously depreciated the matter as being of no account. But if they say
that I have done this with a view to glory, they will be convicted of fighting
openly against themselves and falling into their own snare; for I do not
know
46
what kind of arguments they could have sought in preference to these
if they had wished to release me from the charge of vainglory.
2. For if this desire had ever entered my mind,
I ought to have accepted the office rather than avoided it. Why? because
it would have brought me much glory. For the fact that one of my age, who
had so recently abandoned secular pursuits, should suddenly be deemed by
all worthy of such admiration as to be advanced to honor before those who
have spent all their life in labors of this kind, and to obtain more votes
than all of them, might have persuaded all men to anticipate great and
marvellous things of me. But, as it is, the greater part of the Church
does not know me even by name: so that even my refusal of the office will
not be manifest to all, but only to a few, and I am not sure that all even
of these know it for certain; but probably many of them either imagine
that I was not elected at all, or that I was rejected after the election,
being considered unsuitable, not that I avoided the office of my own accord.
3. BASIL: But those who do know the truth will be
surprised.
CHRYSOSTOM: And lo! these are they who, according
to you, falsely accuse me of vainglory: and pride. Whence then am I to
hope for praise? From the many? They do not know the actual fact. From
the few? Here again the matter is perverted to my disadvantage. For the
only reason why you have come here now is to learn what answer ought to
be given to them And what shall I now certainly say on account of these
things? For wait a little, and you will clearly perceive that even if all
know the truth they ought not to condemn me for pride and love of glory.
And in addition to this there is another consideration: that not only those
who make this venture, if there be any such (which for my part I do not
believe), but also those who suspect it of others, will be involved in
no small danger.
4. For the priestly office is indeed discharged
on earth, but it ranks amongst heavenly ordinances; and very naturally
so: for neither man, nor angel, nor archangel, nor any other created
power, but the Paraclete Himself, instituted this vocation, and persuaded
men while still abiding in the flesh to represent the ministry of angels.
Wherefore the consecrated priest ought to be as pure as if he were standing
in the heavens themselves in the midst of those powers. Fearful, indeed,
and of most awful import, were the things which were used before the dispensation
of grace, as the bells, the pomegranates, the stones on the breastplate
and on the ephod, the girdle, the mitre, the long robe, the plate of gold,
the holy of holies, the deep silence within.(1) But if any one should examine
the things which belong to the dispensation of grace, he will find that,
small as they are, yet are they fearful and full of awe, and that
what was spoken concerning the law is true in this case also, that "what
has been made glorious hath no glory in this respect by reason of the glory
which excelleth."(2) For when thou seest the Lord sacrificed, and laid
upon the altar,(2) and the priest standing and praying over the victim,
and all the worshippers empurpled with that precious blood,(4) canst thou
then think that thou art still amongst men, and standing upon the earth?
Art thou not, on the contrary, straightway translated to Heaven, and casting
out every carnal thought from the soul, dost thou not with disembodied
spirit and pure reason contemplate the things which are in Heaven? Oh!
what a marvel! what love of God to man! He who sitteth on high with the
Father is at that hour held in the hands of all,(5) and gives Himself to
those who are willing to embrace and grasp Him. And this all do through
47
the eyes of faith!(1) Do these things seem to you fit to be despised,
or such as to make it possible for any one to be uplifted against them?
Would you also learn from another miracle the exceeding
sanctity of this office? Picture Elijah and the vast multitude standing
around him, and the sacrifice laid upon the altar of stones, and all the
rest of the people hushed into a deep silence while the prophet alone offers
up prayer: then the sudden rush of fire from Heaven upon the sacrifice:--these
are marvellous things, charged with terror. Now then pass from this scene
to the rites which are celebrated in the present day; they are not only
marvellous to behold, but transcendent in terror. There stands the priest,
not bringing down fire from Heaven, but the Holy Spirit: and he makes prolonged
supplication,(2) not that some flame sent down from on high may consume
the offerings, but that grace descending on the sacrifice may thereby enlighten
the souls of all, and render them more refulgent than silver purified by
fire. Who can despise this most awful mystery, unless he is stark mad and
senseless? Or do you not know that no human soul could have endured that
fire in the sacrifice, but all would have been utterly consumed, had not
the assistance of God's grace been great.
5. For if any one will consider how great a thing
it is for one, being a man, and compassed with flesh and blood, to be enabled
to draw nigh to that blessed and pure nature, he will then clearly see
what great honor the grace of the Spirit has vouchsafed to priests; since
by their agency these rites are celebrated, and others nowise inferior
to these both in respect of our dignity and our salvation. For they who
inhabit the earth and make their abode there are entrusted with the administration
of things which are in Heaven, and have received an authority which God
has not given to angels or archangels. For it has not been said to them,
"Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatsoever
ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven."(3) They who rule on
earth have indeed authority to bind, but only the body: whereas this binding
lays hold of the soul and penetrates the heavens; and what priests do here
below God ratifies above, and the Master confirms the sentence of his servants.
For indeed what is it but all manner of heavenly authority which He has
given them when He says, "Whose sins ye remit they are remitted, and whose
sins ye retain they are retained?"(4) What authority could be greater than
this? "The Father hath committed all judgment to the Son?"(5) But I see
it all put into the hands of these men by the Son. For they have been conducted
to this dignity as if they were already translated to Heaven, and had transcended
human nature, and were released from the passions to which we are liable.
Moreover, if a king should bestow this honor upon any of his subjects,
authorizing him to cast into prison whom he pleased and to release them
again, he becomes an object of envy and respect to all men; but he who
has received from God an authority as much greater as heaven is more precious
than earth, and souls more precious than bodies, seems to some to have
received so small an honor that they are actually able to imagine that
one of those who have been entrusted with these things will despise the
gift. Away with such madness! For transparent madness it is to despise
so great a dignity, without which it is not possible to obtain either our
own salvation, or the good things which have been promised to us. For if
no one can enter into the kingdom of Heaven except he be regenerate through
water and the Spirit, and he who does not eat the flesh of the Lord and
drink His blood is excluded from eternal life, and if all these things
are accomplished only by means of those holy hands, I mean the hands of
the priest, how will any one, without these, be able to escape the fire
of hell, or to win those crowns which are reserved for the victorious?
6. These verily are they who are entrusted with
the pangs of spiritual travail and the birth which comes through baptism:
by their means we put on Christ, and are buried with the Son of God, and
become members of that blessed Head. Wherefore they might not
only be more justly feared by us than rulers and kings, but also
be more honored than parents; since these begat us of blood and the will
of the flesh, but the others are the authors of our birth from God, even
that blessed regeneration which is the true freedom and the sonship according
to grace. The Jewish priests had authority to release the body from leprosy,
or, rather, not to release it but only to examine those who were already
released, and you know how much the office of priest
48
was contended for at that time. But our priests have received authority
to deal, not with bodily leprosy, but spiritual uncleanness--not to pronounce
it removed after examination, but actually and absolutely to take it away.
Wherefore they who despise these priests would be far more accursed than
Dathan and his company, and deserve more severe punishment. For the latter,
although they laid claim to the dignity which did not belong to them, nevertheless
had an excellent opinion concerning it, and this they evinced by the great
eagerness with which they pursued it; but these men, when the office has
been better regulated, and has received so great a development, have displayed
an audacity which exceeds that of the others, although manifested in a
contrary way. For there is not an equal amount of contempt involved in
aiming at an honor which does not pertain to one, and in despising such
great advantages, but the latter exceeds the former as much as scorn differs
from admiration. What soul then is so sordid as to despise such great advantages?
None whatever, I should say, unless it were one subject to some demoniacal
impulse. For I return once more to the point from which I started: not
in the way of chastising only, but also in the way of benefiting, God has
bestowed a power on priests greater than that of our natural parents. The
two indeed differ as much as the present and the future life. For our natural
parents generate us unto this life only, but the others unto that which
is to come. And the former would not be able to avert death from
their offspring, or to repel the assaults of disease; but these others
have often saved a sick soul, or one which was on the point of perishing,
procuring for some a milder chastisement, and preventing others from falling
altogether, not only by instruction and admonition, but also by the assistance
wrought through prayers. For not only at the time of regeneration, but
afterwards also, they have authority to forgive sins. "Is any sick among
you?" it is said, "let him call for the elders of the Church
and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the
Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the
Lord will raise him up: and if he have committed sins they
shall be forgiven him."(1) Again: our natural parents, should
their children come into conflict with any men of high rank
and great power in the world, are unable to profit them: but
priests have reconciled, not rulers and kings, but God Himself when
His wrath has often been provoked against them. Well! after this
will any one venture to condemn me for arrogance? For my part, after what
has been said, I imagine such religious fear will possess the souls of
the hearers that they will no longer condemn those who avoid the office
for arrogance and temerity, but rather those who voluntarily come forward
and are eager to obtain this dignity for themselves. For if they who have
been entrusted with the command of cities, should they chance to be wanting
in discretion and vigilance, have sometimes destroyed the cities and ruined
themselves in addition, how much power think you both in himself and from
above must he need, to avoid sinning, whose business it is to beautify
the Bride of Christ?
7. No man loved Christ more than Paul: no man exhibited
greater zeal, no man was counted worthy of more grace: nevertheless, after
all these great advantages, he still has fears and tremblings concerning
this government and those who were governed by him. "I fear," he says,
"lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety, so
your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity which is in Christ."(2)
And again, "I was with you in fear and in much trembling;"(3) and this
was a man who had been caught up to the third Heaven, and made partaker
of the unspeakable mysteries of God,(4) and had endured as many deaths
as he had lived days after he became a believer--a man, moreover, who would
not use the authority given him from Christ lest any of his converts should
be offended.(5) If, then, he who went beyond the ordinances of God, and
nowhere sought his own advantage, but that of those whom he governed, was
always so full of fear when he considered the greatness of his government,
what shall our condition be who in many ways seek our own, who not only
fail to go beyond the commandments of Christ, but for the most part transgress
them? "Who is weak," he says, "and I am not weak? who is offended and I
burn not?"(6) Such an one ought the priest to be, or, rather, not such
only: for these are small things, and as nothing compared with what
I am about to say. And what is this? "I could wish," he says, "that myself
were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the
flesh."(7) If any one can utter such a speech, if any one has the soul
which attains to such a prayer, he might justly be blamed if he took to
flight: but if any one should lack such excellence as much as I do, he
would deserve to be hated, not if he avoided the office, but if he accepted
49
it. For if an election to a military dignity was the business in hand,
and they who had the right of conferring the honor were to drag forward
a brazier, or a shoemaker, or some such artisan, and entrust the army to
his hands, I should not praise the wretched man if he did not take to flight,
and do all in his power to avoid plunging into such manifest trouble. If,
indeed, it be sufficient to bear the name of pastor, and to take the work
in hand hap-hazard, and there be no danger in this, then let whoso pleases
accuse me of vainglory; but if it behoves one who undertakes this care
to have much understanding, and, before understanding, great grace from
God, and uprightness of conduct, and purity of life and superhuman virtue,
do not deprive me of forgiveness if I am unwilling to perish in vain without
a cause.
Moreover, if any one in charge of a full-sized merchant
ship, full of rowers, and laden with a costly freight, were to station
me at the helm and bid me cross the AEgean or the Tyrrhene sea, I should
recoil from the proposal at once: and if any one asked me why? I should
say, "Lest I should sink the ship." Well, where the loss concerns material
wealth, and the danger extends only to bodily death, no one will blame
those who exercise great prudence; but where the shipwrecked are destined
to fall, not into the ocean, but into the abyss of fire, and the
death which awaits them is not that which severs the soul from
the body, but one which together with this dismisses it to
eternal punishment, shall I incur your wrath and hate because I did not
plunge headlong into so great an evil?
8. Do not thus, I pray and beseech you. I know my
own soul, how feeble and puny it is: I know the magnitude of
this ministry, and the great difficulty of the work; for more stormy
billows vex the soul of the priest than the gales which disturb the sea.
9. And first of all is that most terrible rock of
vainglory, more dangerous than that of the Sirens, of which the fable-mongers
tell such marvellous tales: for many were able to sail past that and escape
unscathed; but this is to me so dangerous that even now, when no necessity
of any kind impels me into that abyss, I am unable to keep clear of the
snare: but if any one were to commit this charge to me, it would be all
the same as if he tied my hands behind my back, and delivered me to the
wild beasts dwelling on that rock to rend me in pieces day by day. Do you
ask what those wild beasts are? They are wrath, despondency, envy, strife,
slanders, accusations, falsehood, hypocrisy, intrigues, anger against those
who have done no harm, pleasure at the indecorous acts of fellow, ministers,
sorrow at their prosperity, love of praise, desire of honor (which indeed
most of all drives the human soul headlong to perdition), doctrines devised
to please, servile flatteries, ignoble fawning, contempt of the poor, paying
court to the rich, senseless and mischievous honors, favors attended with
danger both to those who offer and those who accept them, sordid fear suited
only to the basest of slaves, the abolition of plain speaking, a great
affectation of humility, but banishment of truth, the suppression of convictions
and reproofs, or rather the excessive use of them against the poor, while
against those who are invested with power no one dare open his lips.
For all these wild beasts, and more than these,
are bred upon that rock of which I have spoken, and those whom they have
once captured are inevitably dragged down into such a depth of servitude
that even to please women they often do many things which it is well not
to mention. The divine law indeed has excluded women from the ministry,
but they endeavor to thrust themselves into it; and since they can effect
nothing of themselves, they do all through the agency of others; and they
have become invested with so much power that they can appoint or eject
priests at their will:(1) things in fact are turned upside down, and the
proverbial saying may be seen realized--"The ruled lead the rulers:" and
would that it were men who do this instead of women, who have not received
a commission to teach. Why do I say teach? for the blessed Paul did not
suffer them even to speak in the Church.(2) But I have heard some one say
that they have obtained such a large privilege of free speech, as even
to rebuke the prelates of the Churches, and censure them more severely
than masters do their own domestics.
10. And let not any one suppose that I subject all
to the aforesaid charges: for there are some, yea many, who are superior
to these entanglements, and exceed in number those who have been caught
by them. Nor would I indeed make the priesthood responsible for these
evils: far be such madness from me. For men of understanding do not say
that the sword is to blame for murder, nor wine for drunkenness, nor strength
for outrage, nor courage for foolhardiness, but they lay the blame on those
who make an improper use of the gifts which have been bestowed upon them
by God, and punish them accordingly. Certainly, at least, the priesthood
may justly accuse us
50
if we do not rightly handle it. For it is not itself a cause of
the evils already mentioned, but we, who as far as lies in our power have
defiled it with so many pollutions, by entrusting it to commonplace men
who readily accept what is offered them, without having first acquired
a knowledge of their own souls, or considered the gravity of the office,
and when they have entered on the work, being blinded by inexperience,
overwhelm with innumerable evils the people who have been committed to
their care. This is the very thing which was very nearly happening in my
case, had not God speedily delivered me from those dangers, mercifully
sparing his Church and my own soul. For, tell me, whence do you think such
great troubles are generated in the Churches? I, for my part, believe the
only source of them to be the inconsiderate and random way in which prelates
are chosen and appointed. For the head ought to be the strongest part,
that it may be able to regulate and control the evil exhalations which
arise from the rest of the body below; but when it happens to be weak in
itself, and unable to repel those pestiferous attacks, it becomes feebler
itself than it really is, and ruins the rest of the body as well. And to
prevent this now coming to pass, God kept me in the position of the feet,
which was the rank originally assigned to me. For there are very many other
qualities, Basil, besides those already mentioned, which the priest ought
to have, but which I do not possess; and, above all, this one:--his soul
ought to be thoroughly purged from any lust after the office: for if he
happens to have a natural inclination for this dignity, as soon as he attains
it a stronger flame is kindled, and the man being taken completely captive
will endure innumerable evils in order to keep a secure hold upon it, even
to the extent of using flattery, or submitting to something base and ignoble,
or expending large sums of money. For I will not now speak of the murders
with which some have filled the Churches,(1) or the desolation which they
have brought upon cities in contending for the dignity, lest some persons
should think what I say incredible. But I am of opinion one ought to exercise
so much caution in the matter, as to shun the burden of the office,(2)
and when one has entered upon it, not to wait for the judgment of others
should any fault be committed which warrants deposition, but to anticipate
it by ejecting oneself from the dignity; for thus one might probably win
mercy for himself from God: but to cling to it in defiance of propriety
is to deprive oneself of all forgiveness, or rather to kindle the wrath
of God, by adding a second error more offensive than the first.
11. But no one will always endure the strain; for
fearful, truly fearful is the eager desire after this honor. And in saying
this I am not in opposition to the blessed Paul, but in complete harmony
with his words. For what says he? "If any than desireth the office of a
bishop, he desireth a good work."(3) Now I have not said that it is a terrible
thing to desire the work, but only the authority and power. And this desire
I think one ought to expel from the soul with all possible earnestness,
not permitting it at the outset to be possessed by such a feeling, so that
one may be able to do everything with freedom. For he who does not desire
to be exhibited in possession of this authority, does not fear to be deposed
from it, and not fearing this will be able to do everything with the freedom
which becomes Christian men: whereas they who fear and tremble lest they
should be deposed undergo a bitter servitude, filled with all kinds of
evils, and are often compelled to offend against both God and man. Now
the soul ought not to be affected in this way; but as in warfare we see
those soldiers who are noble-spirited fight willingly and fall bravely,
so they who have attained to this stewardship should be contented to be
consecrated to the dignity or removed from it, as becomes Christian men,
knowing that deposition of this kind brings its reward no less than the
discharge of the office. For when any one suffers anything of this
kind, in order to avoid submitting to something which is unbecoming
or unworthy of this dignity, he procures punishment for those who wrongfully
depose him, and a greater reward for himself. "Blessed," says
our Lord, "are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall
say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake; rejoice and be
exceeding glad, for great is your reward in Heaven."(4) And this, indeed,
is the case when any one is expelled by those of his own rank either on
account of envy, with a view to the favor of others, or through hatred,
or from any other wrong motive: but when it is the lot of any one to
experience this treatment at the hand of opponents, I do not think a word
is needed to prove what great gain they confer upon him by their wickedness.
It behoves us, then, to be on the watch on all sides,
and to make a careful search lest any
51
spark of this desire should be secretly smouldering somewhere. For it
is much to be wished that those who are originally free from this passion,
should also be able to avoid it when they have lighted upon this office.
But if any one, before he obtains the honor, cherishes in himself this
terrible and savage monster, it is impossible to say into what a furnace
he will fling himself after he has attained it. Now I possessed this desire
in a high degree (and do not suppose that I would ever tell you what was
untrue in self-disparagement): and this, combined with other reasons, alarmed
me not a little, and induced me to take flight. For just as lovers of the
human person, as long as they are permitted to be near the objects of their
affection, suffer more severe torment from their passion, but when they
remove as far as possible from these objects of desire, they drive away
the frenzy: even so when those who desire this dignity are near it, the
evil becomes intolerable: but when they cease to hope for it, the desire
is extinguished together with the expectation.
12. This single motive then is no slight one: and
even taken by itself it would have sufficed to deter me from this dignity:
but, as it is, another must be added not less than the former. And what
is this? A priest ought to be sober minded, and penetrating in discernment,
and possessed of innumerable eyes in every direction, as one who lives
not for himself alone but for so great a multitude. But that I am sluggish
and slack, and scarcely able to bring about my own salvation, even you
yourself would admit, who out of love to me art especially eager to conceal
my faults. Talk not to me in this connexion of fasting, and watching, or
sleeping on the ground, and other hard discipline of the body: for you
know how defective I am in these matters: and even if they had been carefully
practised by me they could not with my present sluggishness have been of
any service to me with a view to this post of authority. Such things might
be of great service to a man who was shut up in a cell, and caring only
for his own concerns: but when a man is divided among so great a multitude,
and enters separately into the private cares of those who are under his
direction, what appreciable help can be given to their improvement unless
he possesses a robust and exceedingly vigorous character?
13. And do not be surprised if, in connexion with
such endurance, I seek another test of fortitude in the soul. For to be
indifferent to food and drink and a soft bed, we see is to many no hard
task, especially at least to such as are of a rough habit of life and have
been brought up in this way from early youth, and to many others also;
bodily discipline and custom softening the severity of these laborious
practices: but insult, and abuse, and coarse language, and gibes from inferiors,whether
wantonly or justly uttered, and rebukes vainly and idly spoken both by
rulers and the ruled--this is what few can bear, in fact only one or two
here and there; and one may see men, who are strong in the former exercises,
so completely upset by these things, as to become more furious than the
most savage beasts. Now such men especially we should exclude from the
precincts of the priesthood. For if a prelate did not loathe food, or go
barefoot, no harm would be done to the common interests of the Church;
but a furious temper causes great disasters both to him who possesses it,
and to his neighbours. And there is no divine threat against those who
fail to do the things referred to, but hell and hell-fire are threatened
against those who are angry without a cause.(1) As then the lover of vainglory,
when he takes upon him the government of numbers, sup plies additional
fuel to the fire, so he who by himself, or in the company of a few, is
unable to control his anger, but readily carried away by it, should he
be entrusted with the direction of a whole multitude, like some wild beast
goaded on all sides by countless tormentors, would never be able to live
in tranquillity himself, and would cause incalculable mischief to those
who have been committed to his charge.
14. For nothing clouds the purity of the reason,
and the perspicuity of the mental vision so much as undisciplined wrath,
rushing along with violent impetuosity. "For wrath," says one, "destroys
even the prudent."(2) For the eye of the soul being darkened as in some
nocturnal battle is not able to distinguish friends from foes, nor the
honorable from the unworthy, but handles them all in turn in the same way;
even if some harm must be suffered, readily enduring everything, in order
to satisfy the pleasure of the soul. For the fire of wrath is a kind of
pleasure, and tyrannizes over the soul more harshly than pleasure, completely
upsetting its healthy organization. For it easily impels men to arrogance,
and unseasonable enmities, and unreasonable hatred, and it continually
makes them ready to commit wanton and vain offences; and forces them to
say and do many other things of that kind, the soul being swept along by
the rush of passion, and having nothing on which to fasten its strength
and resist so great an impulse.
BASIL: I will not endure this irony of yours any
longer: for who knows not how far removed you are from this infirmity?
52
CHRYSOSTOM: Why then, my good friend, do you wish
to bring me near the pyre, and to provoke the wild beast when he is tranquil?
Are you not aware that I have achieved this condition, not by any innate
virtue, but by my love of retirement? and that when one who is so constituted
remains contented by himself, or only associates with one or two friends,
he is able to escape the fire which arises from this passion, but not if
he has plunged into the abyss of all these cares? for then he drags not
only himself but many others with him to the brink of destruction, and
renders them more indifferent to all consideration for mildness. For the
mass of people under government are generally inclined to regard
the manners of those who govern as a kind of model type, and to assimilate
themselves to them. How then could any one put a stop to their fury when
he is swelling himself with rage? And who amongst the multitude would straightway
desire to become moderate when he sees the ruler irritable? For it is quite
impossible for the defects of priests to be concealed, but even trifling
ones speedily become manifest. So an athlete, as long as he remains at
home, and contends with no one, can dissemble his weakness even if it be
very great, but when he strips for the contest he is easily detected. And
thus for some who live this private and inactive life, their isolation
serves as a veil to hide their defects; but when they have been brought
into public they are compelled to divest themselves of this mantle of seclusion,
and to lay bare their souls to all through their visible movements. As
therefore their right deeds profit many, by provoking them to equal zeal,
so their shortcomings make men more indifferent to the practice of virtue,
and encourage them to indolence in their endeavours after what is excellent.
Wherefore his soul ought to gleam with beauty on every side, that it may
be able to gladden and to enlighten the souls of those who behold it. For
the faults of ordinary men, being committed as it were in the dark, ruin
only those who practise them: but the errors of a man in a conspicuous
position, and known to many, inflicts a common injury upon all, rendering
those who have fallen more supine in their efforts for good, and driving
to desperation those who wish to take heed to themselves. And apart from
these things, the faults of insignificant men, even if they are exposed,
inflict no injury worth speaking of upon any one: but they who occupy the
highest seat of honor are in the first place plainly visible to all, and
if they err in the smallest matters these trifles seem great to others:
for all men measure the sin, not by the magnitude of the offence, but by
the rank of the offender. Thus the priest ought to be protected on all
sides by a kind of adamantine armour, by intense earnestness, and perpetual
watchfulness concerning his manner of life, lest some one discovering an
exposed and neglected spot should inflict a deadly wound: for all
who surround him are ready to smite and overthrow him: not enemies only
and adversaries, but many even of those who profess friendship.
The souls therefore of men elected to the priesthood
ought to be endued with such power as the grace of God bestowed on the
bodies of those saints who were cast into the Babylonian furnace.(1) Faggot
and pitch and tow are not the fuel of this fire, but things far more dreadful:
for it is no material fire to which they are subjected, but the all-devouring
flame of envy encompasses them, rising up on every side, and assailing
them, and putting their life to a more searching test than the fire then
was to the bodies of those young men. When then it finds a little trace
of stubble, it speedily fastens upon it; and this unsound part it entirely
consumes, but all the rest of the fabric, even if it be brighter than the
sunbeams, is scorched and blackened by the smoke. For as long as the life
of the priest is well regulated in every direction, it is invulnerable
to plots; but if he happens to overlook some trifle, as is natural in a
human being, traversing the treacherous ocean of this life, none of his
other good deeds are of any avail in enabling him to escape the mouths
of his accusers; but that little blunder overshadows all the rest. And
all men are ready to pass judgment on the priest as if he was not a being
clothed with flesh, or one who inherited a human nature, but like an angel,
and emancipated from every species of infirmity. And just as all men fear
and flatter a tyrant as long as he is strong, because they
cannot put him down, but when they see his affairs going adversely, those
who were his friends a short time before abandon their hypocritical
respect, and suddenly become his enemies and antagonists, and having discovered
all his weak points, make an attack upon him, and depose him from the government;
so is it also in the case of priests. Those who honored him and paid court
to him a short time before, while he was strong, as soon as they have found
some little handle eagerly prepare to depose him, not as a tyrant
only, but something far more dreadful than that. And as the tyrant fears
his body guards, so also does the priest dread most of all his neighbours
and fellow-ministers. For no others covet his dignity so much, or
know his affairs so well as these; and if anything occurs, be-
53
ing near at hand, they perceive it before others, and even if they slander
him, can easily command belief, and, by magnifying trifles, take their
victim captive. For the apostolic saying is reversed, "whether one member
suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the
members rejoice with it;"(1) unless indeed a man should be able by his
great discretion to stand his ground against everything.
Are you then for sending me forth into so great
a warfare? and did you think that my soul would be equal to a contest so
various in character and shape? Whence did you learn this, and from whom?
If God certified this to you, show me the oracle, and I obey; but if you
cannot, and form your judgment from human opinion only, please to set yourself
free from this delusion. For in what concerns my own affairs it is fairer
to trust me than others; inasmuch as "no man knoweth the things of a man,
save the spirit of man which is in him."(2) That I should have made myself
and my electors ridiculous, had I accepted this office, and should with
great loss have returned to this condition of life in which I now am, I
trust I have now convinced you by these remarks, if not before. For not
malice only, but something much stronger--the lust after this dignity--is
wont to arm many against one who possesses it. And just as avaricious children
are oppressed by the old age of their parents, so some of these, when they
see the priestly office held by any one for a protracted time--since it
would be wickedness to destroy him--hasten to depose him from it, being
all desirous to take his place, and each expecting that the dignity will
be transferred to himself.
15. Would you like me to show you yet another phase
of this strife, charged with innumerable dangers? Come, then, and take
a peep at the public festivals when it is generally the custom for elections
to be made to ecclesiastical dignities, and you will then see the priest
assailed with accusations as numerous as the people whom he rules. For
all who have the privilege of conferring the honor are then split into
many parties; and one can never find the council of elders(3) of one mind
with each other, or about the man who has won the prelacy; but each stands
apart from the others, one preferring this man, another that. Now the reason
is that they do not all look to one thing, which ought to be the only object
kept in view, the excellence of the character; but other qualifications
are alleged as recommending to this honor; for instance, of one it is said,
"let him be elected because he belongs to an illustrious family," of another
"because he is possessed of great wealth, and would not need to be supported
out of the revenues of the Church," of a third "because he has come over
from the camp of the adversary;" one is eager to give the preference to
a man who is on terms of intimacy with himself, another to the man who
is related to him by birth, a third to the flatterer, but no one will look
to the man who is really qualified, or make some test of his character.
Now I am so far from thinking these things trustworthy criteria of a man's
fitness for the priesthood, that even if any one manifested great piety,
which is no small help in the discharge of that office, I should not venture
to approve him on that account alone, unless he happened to combine good
abilities with his piety. For I know many men who have exercised perpetual
restraint upon themselves, and consumed themselves with fastings, who,
as long as they were suffered to be alone, and attend to their own concerns,
have been acceptable to God, and day by day have made no small addition
to this kind of learning; but as soon as they entered public life, and
were compelled to correct the ignorance of the multitude, have, some of
them, proved from the outset incompetent for so great a task, and others
when forced to persevere in it, have abandoned their former strict way
of living, and thus inflicted great injury on themselves without profiting
others at all. And if any one spent his whole time in the lowest rank of
the ministry, and reached extreme old age, I would not, merely out of reverence
for his years, promote him to the higher dignity; for what if, after arriving
at that time of life, he should still remain unfit for the office? And
I say this now, not as wishing to dishonor the grey head, nor as laying
down a law absolutely to exclude from this authority those who come from
the monastic circle (for there are instances of many who issued from that
body, having shone conspicuously in this dignity); but the point which
I am anxious to prove is, that if neither piety of itself, nor advanced
age, would suffice to show that a man who had obtained the priesthood really
deserved it, the reasons formerly alleged would scarcely effect this. There
are also men who bring forward other pretexts yet more
54
absurd; for some are enrolled in the ranks of the clergy, that they
may not range themselves among opponents, and others on account of their
evil disposition, lest they should do great mischief if they are overlooked.
Could anything be more contrary to right rule than this? that bad men,
laden with iniquity, should be courted on account of those things for which
they ought to be punished, and ascend to the priestly dignity on account
of things for which they ought to be debarred from the very threshold of
the Church. Tell me, then, shall we seek any further the cause of God's
wrath when we expose things so holy and awful to be defiled by men who
are either wicked or worthless? for when some men are entrusted with the
administration of things which are not at all suitable to them, and others
of things which exceed their natural power, they make the condition of
the Church like that of Euripus.(1)
Now formerly I used to deride secular rulers, because
in the distribution of their honors they are not guided by considerations
of moral excellence, but of wealth, and seniority, and human distinction;
but when I heard that this kind of folly had forced its way into our affairs
also, I no longer regarded their conduct as so atrocious. For what wonder
is it that worldly men, who love the praise of the multitude, and do everything
for the sake of gain, should commit these sins, when those who affect at
least to be free from all these influences are in no wise better disposed
than they, but although engaged in a contest for heavenly things, act as
if the question submitted for decision was one which concerned acres of
land, or something else of that kind? for they take commonplace men off-hand,
and set them to preside over those things, for the sake of which the only
begotten Son of God did not refuse to empty Himself of His glory and become
man, and take the form of a servant, and be spat upon, and buffeted, and
die a death of reproach in the flesh. Nor do they stop even here, but add
to these offences others still more monstrous; for not only do they elect
unworthy men, but actually expel those who are well qualified. As if it
were necessary to ruin the safety of the Church on both sides, or as if
the former provocation were not sufficient to kindle the wrath of God,
they have contrived yet another not less pernicious. For I consider it
as atrocious to expel the useful men as to force in the useless. And this
in fact takes place, so that the flock of Christ is unable to find consolation
in any direction, or draw its breath freely. Now do not such deeds deserve
to be punished by ten thousand thunder-bolts, and a hell-fire hotter than
that with which we are threatened [in Holy Scripture]? Yet these monstrous
evils are borne with by Him who willeth not the death of a sinner, that
he may be converted and live. And how can one sufficiently marvel at His
lovingkindness, and be amazed at His mercy? They who belong to Christ destroy
the property of Christ more than enemies and adversaries, yet the good
Lord still deals gently with them, and calls them to repentance. Glory
be to Thee, O Lord! Glory to Thee! How vast is the depth of Thy lovingkindness!
how great the riches of Thy forbearance! Men who on account of Thy name
have risen from insignificance and obscurity to positions of honor and
distinction, use the honor they enjoy against Him who has bestowed it,
do deeds of outrageous audacity, and insult holy things, rejecting and
expelling men of zeal in order that the wicked may ruin everything at their
pleasure in much security, and with the utmost fearlessness. And if you
would know the causes of this dreadful evil, you will find that they are
similar to those which were mentioned before; for they have one root and
mother, so to say--namely, envy; but this is manifested in several different
forms: For one we are told is to be struck out of the list of candidates,
because he is young; another because he does not know how to flatter; a
third because he has offended such and such a person; a fourth lest such
and such a man should be pained at seeing one whom he has presented rejected,
and this man elected; a fifth because he is kind and gentle; a sixth because
he is formidable to the sinful; a seventh for some other like reason; for
they are at no loss to find as many pretexts as they want, and can even
make the abundance of a man's wealth an objection when they have no other.
Indeed they would be capable of discovering other reasons, as many as they
wish, why a man ought not to be brought suddenly to this honor, but gently
and gradually. And here I should like to ask the question, "What, then,
is the prelate to do, who has to contend with such blasts? How shall he
hold his ground against such billows? How shall he repel all these assaults?"
For if he manages the business(2) upon upright principles,
all those who are enemies and adversaries both to him and to the candidates
do everything with a view to contention, provoking daily strife, and heaping
infinite
55
scorn upon the candidates, until they have got them struck off the list,
or have introduced their own favorites. In fact it is just as if some pilot
had pirates sailing with him in his ship, perpetually plotting every hour
against him, and the sailors, and marines. And if he should prefer favor
with such men to his own salvation, accepting unworthy candidates, he will
have God for his enemy in their stead; and what could be more dreadful
than that? And yet his relations with them will be more embarrassing than
formerly, as they will all combine with each other, and thereby become
more powerful than before. For as when fierce winds coming from opposite
directions clash with one another, the ocean, hitherto calm, becomes suddenly
furious and raises its crested waves, destroying those who are sailing
over it, so also when the Church has admitted corrupt men, its once tranquil
surface is covered with rough surf and strewn with shipwrecks.
16. Consider, then, what kind of man he ought to
be who is to hold out against such a tempest, and to manage skillfully
such great hindrances to the common welfare; for he ought to be dignified
yet free from arrogance, formidable yet kind, apt to command yet sociable,
impartial yet courteous, humble yet not servile, strong yet gentle, in
order that he may contend successfully against all these difficulties.
And he ought to bring forward with great authority the man who is properly
qualified for the office, even if all should oppose him, and with the same
authority to reject the man who is not so qualified, even if all should
conspire in his favor, and to keep one aim only in view, the building up
of the Church, in nothing actuated either by enmity or favor. Well, do
you now think that I acted reasonably in declining the ministry of this
office? But I have not even yet gone through all my reasons with you; for
I have some others still to mention. And do not grow impatient of listening
to a friendly and sincere man, who wishes to clear himself from your accusations;
for these statements are not only serviceable for the defence which you
have to make on my behalf, but they will also prove of no small help for
the due administration of the office. For it is necessary for one who is
going to enter upon this path of life to investigate all matters thoroughly
well, before he sets his hand to the ministry. Do you ask why? Because
one who knows all things clearly will have this advantage, if no other,
that he will not feel strange when these things befall him. Would you like
me then to approach the question of superintending widows, first of all,
or of the care of virgins, or the difficulty of the judicial function.
For in each of these cases there is a different kind of anxiety, and the
fear is greater than the anxiety.
Now in the first place, to start from that subject
which seems to be simpler than the others, the charge of widows appears
to cause anxiety to those who take care of them only so far as the expenditure
of money is concerned; but the case is otherwise, and here also a careful
scrutiny is needed, when they have to be enrolled,(1) for infinite mischief
has been caused by putting them on the list without due discrimination.
For they have ruined households, and severed marriages, and have often
been detected in thieving and pilfering and unseemly deeds of that kind.
Now that such women should be supported out of the Church's revenues provokes
punishment from God, and extreme condemnation among men, and abates the
zeal of those who wish to do good. For who would ever choose to expend
the wealth which he was commanded to give to Christ upon those who defame
the name of Christ? For these reasons a strict and curate scrutiny ought
to be made so as to prevent the supply of the indigent being wasted, not
only by the women already mentioned, but also by those who are able to
provide for themselves. And this scrutiny is succeeded by no small anxiety
of another kind, to ensure an abundant and unfailing stream of supply as
from a fountain; for compulsory poverty is an insatiable kind of evil,
querulous and ungrateful. And great discretion and great zeal is required
so as to stop the mouths of complainers, depriving them of every excuse.
Now most men, when they see any one superior to the love of money, forthwith
represent him as well qualified for this stewardship. But I do not think
that this greatness of soul is ever sufficient of itself, although it ought
to be possessed prior to all other qualities; for without this a man would
be a destroyer rather than a protector, a wolf instead of a shepherd; nevertheless,
combined with this, the possession of another quality also should be demanded.
And this quality is forbearance, the cause of all good things in men, impelling
as it were and conducting the soul into a serene haven. For widows are
a class who, both on account of their poverty, their age and natural dispo-
56
sition, indulge in unlimited freedom of speech (so I had best call it);
and they make an unseasonable clamor and idle complaints and lamentations
about matters for which they ought to be grateful, and bring accusations
concerning things which they ought contentedly to accept. Now the superintendent
should endure all these things in a generous spirit, and not be provoked
either by their unreasonable annoyance or their unreasonable complaints.
For this class of persons deserve to be pitied for their misfortunes, not
to be insulted; and to trample upon their calamities, and add the pain
of insult to that which poverty brings, would be an act of extreme brutality.
On this account one of the wisest of men, having regard to the avarice
and pride of human nature, and considering the nature of poverty and its
terrible power to depress even the noblest character, and induce it often
to act in these same respects without shame, in order that a man should
not be irritated when accused, nor be provoked by continual importunity
to become an enemy where he ought to bring aid, he instructs him to be
affable and accessible to the suppliant, saying, "Incline thine ear to
a poor man and give him a friendly answer with meekness."(1) And passing
by the case of one who succeeds in exasperating (for what can one
say to him who is overcome?), he addresses the man who is able to bear
the other's infirmity, exhorting him before he bestows his gift to correct
the suppliant by the gentleness of his countenance and the mildness of
his words. But if any one, although he does not take the property (of these
widows), nevertheless loads them with innumerable reproaches, and insults
them, and is exasperated against them, he not only fails through his gift
to alleviate the despondency produced by poverty, but aggravates the distress
by his abuse. For although they may be compelled to act very shamelessly
through the necessity of hunger, they are nevertheless distressed at this
compulsion. When, then, owing to the dread of famine, they are constrained
to beg, and owing to their begging are constrained to put off shame, and
then again on account of their shamelessness are insulted, the power of
despondency becoming of a complex kind, and accompanied by much gloom,
settles down upon the soul. And one who has the charge of these persons
ought to be so long-suffering, as not only not to increase their despondency
by his fits of anger, but also to remove the greater part of it by his
exhortation. For as the man who has been insulted, although he is in the
enjoyment of great abundance, does not feel the advantage of his wealth,
on account of the blow which he has received from the insult; so on the
other hand, the man who has been addressed with kindly words, and for whom
the gift has been accompanied with encouragement, exults and rejoices all
the more, and the thing given becomes doubled in value through the manner
in which it is offered. And this I say not of myself, but borrow from him
whose precept I quoted just now: "My son, blemish not thy good deeds, neither
use uncomfortable words when thou givest anything. Shall not the dew assuage
the heat? So is a word better than a gift. Lo! is not a word better than
a gift? but both are with a gracious man."(2)
But the superintendent of these persons ought not
only to be gentle and forbearing, but also skillful in the management of
property; for if this qualification is wanting, the affairs of the poor
are again involved in the same distress. One who was entrusted not long
ago with this ministry, and got together a large hoard of money, neither
consumed it himself, nor expended it with a few exceptions upon those who
needed it, but kept the greater part of it buried in the earth until a
season of distress occurred, when it was all surrendered into the bands
of the enemy. Much forethought, therefore, is needed, that the resources
of the Church should be neither over abundant, nor deficient, but that
all the supplies which are provided should be quickly distributed among
those who require them, and the treasures of the Church stored up in the
hearts of those who are under her rule.
Moreover, in the reception of strangers, and the
care of the sick, consider how great an expenditure of money is needed,
and how much exactness and discernment on the part of those who preside
over these matters. For it is often necessary that this expenditure should
be even larger than that of which I spoke just now, and that he who
presides over it should combine prudence and wisdom with skill in the art
of supply, so as to dispose the affluent to be emulous and ungrudging in
their gifts, lest while providing for the relief of the sick, he should
vex the souls of those who supply their wants. But earnestness and zeal
need to be displayed here in a far higher degree; for the sick are difficult
creatures to please, and prone to languor; and unless great accuracy and
care are used, even a slight oversight is enough to do the patient great
mischief.
17. But in the care of virgins, the fear is greater
in proportion as the possession is more precious, and this flock is of
a nobler character
57
than the others. Already, indeed, even into the band of these holy ones, an infinite number of women have rushed full of innumerable bad qualities; and in this case our grief is greater than in the other; for there is just the same difference between a virgin and a widow going astray, as between a free-born damsel and her handmaid. With widows, indeed, it has become a common practice to trifle, and to rail at one another, to flatter or to be impudent, to appear everywhere in public, and to perambulate the market-place. But the virgin has striven for nobler aims, and eagerly sought the highest kind of philosophy,(1) and professes to exhibit upon earth the life which angels lead, and while yet in the flesh proposes to do deeds which belong to the incorporeal powers. Moreover, she ought not to make numerous or unnecessary journeys, neither is it permissible for her to utter idle and random words; and as for abuse and flattery, she should not even know them by name. On this account she needs the most careful guardianship, and the greater assistance. For the enemy of holiness is always surprising and lying in wait for these persons, ready to devour any one of them if she should slip and fall; many men also there are who lay snares for them; and besides all these things there is the passionateness of their own human nature, so that, speaking generally, the virgin has to equip herself for a twofold war, one which attacks her from without, and the other which presses upon her from within. For these reasons he who has the superintendence of virgins suffers great alarm, and the danger and distress is yet greater, should any of the things which are contrary to his wishes occur, which God forbid. For if a daughter kept in seclusion is a cause of sleeplessness to her father, his anxiety about her depriving him of sleep, where the fear is so great lest she should be childless, or pass the flower of her age (unmarried), or be hated (by her husband),(2) what will he suffer whose anxiety is not concerned with any of these things, but others far greater? For in this, case it is not a man who is rejected, but Christ Himself, nor is this barrenness the subject merely of reproach, but the evil ends in the destruction of the soul; "for every tree," it is said, "which bringeth not forth good fruit, is hewn down and cast into the fire."(3) And for one who has been repudiated by the divine Bridegroom, it is not sufficient to receive a certificate of divorce and so to depart, but she has to pay the penalty of everlasting punishment. Moreover, a father according to the flesh has many things which make the custody of his daughter easy; for the mother, and nurse, and a multitude of handmaids share in helping the parent to keep the maiden safe. For neither is she permitted to be perpetually hurrying into the market-place, nor when she does go there is she compelled to show herself to any of the passers-by, the evening darkness concealing one who does not wish to be seen no less than the walls of the house. And apart from these things, she is relieved from every cause which might otherwise compel her to meet the gaze of men; for no anxiety about the necessaries of life, no menaces of oppressors, nor anything of that kind reduces her to this unfortunate necessity, her father acting in her stead in all these matters; while she herself has only one anxiety, which is to avoid doing or saying anything unworthy the modest conduct which becomes her. But in the other case there are many things which make the custody of the virgin difficult, or rather impossible for the father; for he could not have her in his house with himself, as dwelling together in that way would be neither seemly nor safe. For even if they themselves should suffer no loss, but continue to preserve their innocence unsullied, they would have to give an account for the souls which they have offended, just as much as if they happened to sin with one another. And it being impossible for them to live together, it is not easy to understand the movements of the character, and to suppress the impulses which are ill regulated, or train and improve those which are better ordered and tuned. Nor is it an easy thing to interfere in her habits of walking out; for her poverty and want of a guardian does not permit him to become an exact investigator of the propriety of her conduct. For as she is compelled to manage all her affairs she has many pretexts for going out, if at least she is not inclined to be self-controlled. Now he who commands her to stay always at home ought to cut off these pretexts, providing for her independence in the necessaries of life, and giving her some woman who will see to the management of these things. He must also keep her away from funeral obsequies, and nocturnal festivals; for that artful serpent knows only too well how to scatter his poison through the medium even of good deeds. And the maiden must be fenced on every side, and rarely go out of the house during the whole year, except when she is constrained by inexorable necessity. Now if any one should say
58
that none of these things is the proper work of a bishop to take in
hand, let him be assured that the anxieties and the reasons concerning
what takes place in every case have to be referred to him. And it is far
more expedient that he should manage everything, and so be delivered from
the complaints which he must otherwise undergo on account of the faults
of others, than that he should abstain from the management, and then have
to dread being called to account for things which other men have done.
Moreover, he who does these things by himself, gets through them all with
great ease; but he who is compelled to do it by converting every one's
opinion does not get relief by being saved from working single-handed,
equivalent to the trouble and turmoil which he experiences through those
who oppose him and combat his decisions. However, I could not enumerate
all the anxieties concerned with the care of virgins; for when they have
to be entered on the list, they occasion no small trouble to him who is
entrusted with this business.
Again, the judicial department of the bishop's office
involves innumerable vexations, great consumption of time, and difficulties
exceeding those experienced by men who sit to judge secular affairs; for
it is a labor to discover exact justice, and when it is found, it is difficult
to avoid destroying it. And not only loss of time and difficulty are incurred,
but also no small danger. For ere now, some of the weaker brethren having
plunged into business, because they have not obtained patronage have made
shipwreck concerning the faith. For many of those who have suffered wrong,
no less than those who have inflicted wrong, hate those who do not assist
them, and they will not take into account either the intricacy of the matters
in question, or the difficulty of the times, or the limits of sacerdotal
authority, or anything of that kind; but they are merciless judges, recognizing
only one kind of defence--release from the evils which oppress them. And
he who is unable to furnish this, although he may allege innumerable excuses,
will never escape their condemnation.
And talking of patronage, let me disclose another
pretext for fault-finding. For if the bishop does not pay a round of visits
every day, more even than the idle men about town, unspeakable offence
ensues. For not only the sick, but also the whole, desire to be looked
after, not that piety prompts them to this, but rather that in most cases
they pretend claims to honor and distinction. And if he should ever happen
to visit more constantly one of the richer and more powerful men, under
the pressure of some necessity, with a view to the common benefit of the
Church, he is immediately stigmatized with a character for fawning and
flattery. But why do I speak of patronage and visiting? For merely from
their mode of accosting persons, bishops have to endure such a load of
reproaches as to be often oppressed and overwhelmed by despondency; in
fact, they have also to undergo a scrutiny of the way in which they use
their eyes. For the public rigorously criticize their simplest actions,
taking note of the tone of their voice, the cast of their countenance,
and the degree of their laughter. He laughed heartily to such a man, one
will say, and accosted him with a beaming face, and a clear voice, whereas
to me he addressed only a slight and passing remark. And in a large assembly,
if he does not turn his eyes in every direction when he is conversing,
the majority declare that his conduct is insulting.
Who, then, unless he is exceedingly strong, could
cope with so many accusers, so as either to avoid being indited altogether,
or, if he is indited, to escape? For he must either be without any accusers,
or, if this is impossible, purge himself of the accusations which are brought
against him; and if this again is not an easy matter, as some men delight
in making vain and wanton charges, he must make a brave stand against the
dejection produced by these complaints. He, indeed, who is justly accused,
may easily tolerate the accuser, for there is no bitterer accuser than
conscience; wherefore, if we are caught first by this most terrible adversary,
we can readily endure the milder ones who are external to us. But he who
has no evil thing upon his conscience, when he is subjected to an empty
charge, is speedily excited to wrath, and easily sinks into dejection,
unless he happens to have practised beforehand how to put up with the follies
of the multitude. For it is utterly impossible for one who is falsely accused
without cause, and condemned, to avoid feeling some vexation and annoyance
at such great injustice.
And how can one speak of the distress which bishops
undergo, whenever it is necessary to cut some one off from the full communion
of the Church? Would indeed that the evil went no further than distress!
but in fact the mischief is not trifling. For there is a fear lest the
man, if he has been punished beyond what he deserves, should experience
that which was spoken of by the blessed Paul and "be swallowed up
by overmuch sorrow."(1) The nicest accuracy, therefore, is required in
this matter also, lest what is intended to be
59
profitable should become to him an occasion of greater damage. For whatever sins he may commit after such a method of treatment, the wrath caused by each of them must be shared by the physician who so unskillfully applied his knife to the wound. What severe punishment, then, must be expected by one who has not only to render an account of the offences which he himself has separately committed, but also incurs extreme danger on account of the sins committed by others? For if we shudder at undergoing judgment for our own misdeeds, believing that we shall not be able to escape the fire of the other world, what must one expect to suffer who has to answer for so many others? To prove the truth of this, listen to the blessed Paul, or rather not to him, but to Christ speaking in him, when he says "Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit, for they watch for your souls as they that shall give account."(1) Can the dread of this threat be slight? It is impossible to say: but these considerations are sufficient to convince even the most incredulous and obdurate that I did not make this escape under the influence of pride or vainglory, but merely out of fear for my own safety, and consideration of the gravity of the office.
60
BASIL heard this, and after a little pause thus replied:
If thou wert thyself ambitious of obtaining this
office, thy fear would have been reasonable; for in being ambitious of
undertaking it, a man confesses himself to be qualified for its administration,
and if he fail therein, after it has been entrusted to him, he cannot take
refuge in the plea of inexperience, for he has deprived himself of this
excuse beforehand,(1) by having hurriedly seized upon the ministry, and
whoever willingly and deliberately enters upon it, can no longer say, "I
have sinned in this matter against my will--and against my will I have
ruined such and such a soul;" for He who will one day judge him, will say
to him, "Since then thou wert conscious of such inexperience, and hadst
not ability for undertaking this matter without incurring reproach, why
wert thou so eager and presumptuous as to take in hand what was so far
beyond thy power? Who compelled thee to do so? Didst thou shrink or fly,
and did any one drag thee on by force?" But thou wilt hear nothing like
this, for thou canst have nothing of this kind to condemn thyself for;
and it is evident to all that thou wert in no degree ambitious of this
dignity, for the accomplishment of the matter was due to the action of
others. Hence, circumstances which leave those who are ambitious of this
office no chance of pardon when they err therein, afford thee ample ground
for excuse.
CHRYSOSTOM: At this I shook my head and smiled a
little, admiring the simple-mindedness of the man, and thus addressed him:
I could wish indeed that matters were as thou sayest, most excellent of
men, but not in order that I might be able to accept that office from which
I lately fled. For if, indeed, no chastisement were to await me for undertaking
the care of the flock of Christ without consideration and experience, yet
to me it would be worse than all punishment, after being entrusted with
so great a charge, to have seemed so base towards Him who entrusted me
with it. For what reason, then, did I wish that thou wert not mistaken
in this opinion of thine? truly for the sake of those wretched and unhappy
beings (for so must I call them, who have not found out how to discharge
the duties of this office well,though thou weft to say ten thousand times
61
over that they had been driven to undertake it, and that, therefore,
their errors therein are sins of ignorance)--for the sake, I say, of such
that they might succeed in escaping that unquenchable fire, and the outer
darkness(1) and the worm that dieth not(2) and the punishment of being
cut asunder,(3) and perishing together with the hypocrites.
But what am I to do for thee? It is not as thou
sayest; no, by no means. And if thou wilt, I will give thee a proof of
what I maintain, from the case of a kingdom, which is not of such account
with God as the priesthood. Saul, that son of Kish, was not himself at
all ambitious of becoming a king, but was going in quest of his asses,
and came to ask the prophet about them. The prophet, however, proceeded
to speak to him of the kingdom, but not even then did he run greedily after
it, though he heard about it from a prophet, but drew back and deprecated
it, saying, "Who am I, and what is my father's house."(4) What then? When
he made a bad use of the honor which had been given him by God, were those
words of his able to rescue him from the wrath of Him who had made him
king? And was he able to say to Samuel, when rebuked by him: "Did I greedily
run and rush after the kingdom and sovereign power? I wished to lead the
undisturbed and peaceful life of ordinary men, but thou didst drag me to
this post of honor. Had I remained in my low estate I should easily have
escaped all these stumbling blocks, for were I one of the obscure multitude,
I should never have been sent forth on this expedition, nor would God have
committed to my hands the war against the Amalekites, and if I had not
had it committed to me, I should not have sinned this sin." But all such
arguments are weak as excuses, and not only weak, but perilous, inasmuch
as they rather kindle the wrath of God. For he who has been promoted to
great honor by God, must not advance the greatness of his honor as an excuse
for his errors, but should make God's special favor towards him the motive
for further improvement; whereas he who thinks himself at liberty to sin
because he has obtained some uncommon dignity, what does he but study to
show that the lovingkindness of God is the cause of his personal transgression,
which is always the argument of those who lead godless and careless lives.
But we ought to be on no account thus minded, nor to fall away into the
insane folly of such people, but be ambitious at all times to make the
most of such powers as we have, and to be reverent both in speech and thought.
For (to leave the kingdom and to come to the priesthood,
which is the more immediate subject of our discourse) neither was Eli ambitious
of obtaining his high office, yet what advantage was this to him when he
sinned therein? But why do I say obtain it? not even had he wished could
he have avoided it, because he was under a legal necessity to accept it.
For he was of the tribe of Levi, and was bound to undertake that high office
which descended to him from his forefathers, notwithstanding which even
he paid no small penalty for the lawlessness(5) of his sons. And the very
first High Priest of the Jews,(6) concerning whom God spake so many words
to Moses, when he was unable to withstand alone the frenzy of so great
a multitude, was he not very nearly being destroyed, but for the intercession
of his brother, which averted the wrath of God?(7) And since we have mentioned
Moses, it will be well to show the truth of what we are saying from what
happened to him. For this same saintly Moses was so far from grasping at
the leadership of the Jews as to deprecate the offer,(8) and to decline
it when God commanded him to take it, and so to provoke the wrath of Him
who appointed him; and not only then, but afterwards when he entered upon
his rule, he would gladly have died to have been set free from it: "Kill
me," saith he, "if thou art going to deal thus with me."(9) But what then?
when he sinned at the waters of strife,(10) could these repeated refusals
be pleaded in excuse for him? Could they prevail with God to grant him
pardon? And wherefore was he deprived of the promised land? for no other
reason, as we all know, than for this sin of his, for which that wondrous
man was debarred from enjoying the same blessings which those over whom
he ruled obtained; but after many labors and sufferings, after that unspeakable
wandering, after so many, battles fought and victories won, he died outside
the land to reach which he had undergone so much toil and trial; and though
he had weathered the storms of the deep, he failed to enjoy the blessings
of the haven after all. From hence then thou seest that not only they who
grasp at this office are left without excuse for the sins they commit in
the dis-
62
charge thereof, but they too who come to it through the ambitious desire
of others; for truly if those persons who have been chosen for this high
office by God himself, though they have never so often refused it, have
paid such heavy penalties, and if nothing has availed to deliver any of
them from this danger, neither Aaron nor Eli, nor that holy man the Saint,
the prophet, the wonder worker, the meek above all the men which were upon
the face of the earth,(1) who spake with God, as a man speaketh unto his
friend,(2) hardly shall we who fall so infinitely short of the excellence
of that great man, be able to plead as a sufficient excuse the consciousness
that we have never been ambitious of the dignity, more especially when
many of the ordinations now-a-days do not proceed from the grace of God,
but are due to human ambition. God chose Judas, and counted him one of
the sacred band, and committed to him, as to the rest, the dignity of the
apostolic office; yea he gave him somewhat beyond the others, the stewardship
of the money.(3) But what of that? when he afterwards abused both these
trusts, betraying Him whom he was commissioned to preach, and misapplying
the money which he should have laid out well; did he escape punishment?(4)
nay for this very reason he even brought upon himself greater punishment,
and very reasonably too. For we must not use the high honors given to us
by God so as to offend Him, but so as to please Him better. But he who
claims exemption from punishment where it is due, because he has been exalted
to higher honor than others, acts very much like one of those unbelieving
Jews, who after hearing Christ say, "If I had not come and spoken unto
them, they had not had sin, "If I had not done among them the works which
none other did, they had not had sin,"(5) should reproach the Saviour and
benefactor of mankind by replying," Why, then, didst thou come and speak?
why didst thou work miracles? was it that thou mightest punish us the more?"
But these are the words of madness and of utter senselessness. For the
Great Physician came not to give thee over, but to heal thee--not to pass
thee by when thou wert sick, but to rid thee entirely of disease. But thou
hast of thine own accord withdrawn thyself from his hands; receive therefore
the sorer punishment. For as thou wouldest have been freed from thy former
maladies if thou hadst yielded to his treatment, so if, when thou sawest
him coming to thine aid thou reddest from him, thou wilt no longer be able
to cleanse thyself of these infirmities, and as thou art unable, thou wilt
both suffer punishment for them, and also because for thy part thou madest
God's solicitude for thy good of none effect. Therefore we who act like
this are not subjected to the same torment after as before we received
honor at God's hands, but far severer torment after than before. For he
who has not become good even by being well treated, deserves all the bitterer
punishment. Since, then, this excuse of thine has been shown to be weak,
and not only fails to save those who take refuge in it, but exposes them
so much the more, we must provide ourselves with some other means of safety.
BASIL: Tell me of what nature is that? since, as
for me, I am at present scarce master of myself, thou hast reduced me to
such a state of fear and trembling by what thou hast said.
CHRYSOSTOM: Do not, I beseech and implore thee,
do not be so downcast. For while there is safety for us who are weak, namely,
in not undertaking this office at all, there is safety for you too who
are strong, and this consists in making your hopes of salvation depend,
next to the grace of God, on avoiding every act unworthy of this gift,
and of God who gave it. For they certainly would be deserving of the greatest
punishment who, after obtaining this dignity through their own ambition,
should then either on account of sloth, or wickedness, or even inexperience,
abuse the office. Not that we are to gather from this that there is pardon
in store for those who have not been thus ambitious. Yea, even they too
are deprived of all excuse. For in my judgment, if ten thousand were
to entreat and urge, a man should pay them no attention, but should first
of all search his own heart, and examine the whole matter carefully before
yielding to their importunities. Now no one would venture to undertake
the building of a house were he not an architect, nor will any one attempt
the cure of sick bodies who is not a skilled physician; but even though
many urge him, will beg off, and will not be ashamed to own his ignorance;
and shall he who is going to have the care of so many souls entrusted to
him, not examine himself beforehand? will he accept this ministry even
though he be the most inexperienced of men, because this one commands him,
or that man constrains him, or for fear of offending a third? And if so,
how will he escape casting himself together with them into manifest misery.
Had he continued as he was, it were possible for him to be saved, but now
he involves others in his own destruction. For whence can he hope for salvation?
whence
63
to obtain pardon? Who will then successfully intercede for us?
they who are now perhaps urging us and forcibly dragging us on? But
who will save these same at such a moment? For even they too will stand
in need in their turn of intercession, that they may escape the fire. Now,
that I say not these things to frighten thee, but as representing the matter
as in truth it is, hear what the holy Apostle Paul saith to Timothy his
disciple, his own and beloved son, "Lay hands suddenly on no man,
neither be partaker of other men's sins."(1) Dost thou not see from what
great blame, yea and vengeance, we, so far as in us lies, have delivered
those who were ready to put us forward for this office.
2. For as it is not enough for those who are chosen
to say in excuse for themselves, "I did not summon myself to this office,
nor could I avoid what I did not see beforehand;" so neither will it be
a sufficient plea for those who ordain them to say that they did not know
him who was ordained. The charge against them becomes greater on account
of their ignorance of him whom they brought forward, and what seems to
excuse them only serves to accuse them the more. For how absurd a thing,
is it not? that they who want to buy a slave, show him to the physician,
and require sureties for the sale, and information about him from their
neighbours, and after all this do not yet venture on his purchase without
asking for some time for a trial of him; while they who are going to admit
any one to so great an office as this, give their testimonial and their
sanction loosely and carelessly, without further investigation, just because
some one wishes it, or to court the favor, or to avoid the displeasure
of some one else. Who shall then successfully intercede for us in that
day, when they who ought to defend us stand themselves in need of defenders?
He who is going to ordain, therefore, ought to make diligent inquiry, and
much more he who is to be ordained. For though they who ordain him share
his punishment, for any sins which he may commit in his office, yet so
far from escaping vengeance he will even pay a greater penalty than they--save
only if they who chose him acted from some worldly motive contrary to what
seemed justifiable to themselves. For if they should be detected so doing,
and knowing a man to be unworthy have brought him forward on some pretext
or other, the amount of their punishment shall be equivalent
to his, nay perhaps the punishment shall be even greater for them who appointed
the unfit man. For he who gives authority to any one who is minded to destroy
the Church, would be certainly to blame for the outrages which that person
commits. But if he is guilty of no such thing, and says that he has been
misled by the opinions of others, even then he shall not altogether remain
unpunished, but his punishment shall be a little lighter than his who has
been ordained. What then? It is possible that they who elect may come to
the election deceived by a false report. But he who is elected could not
say, "I am ignorant of myself," as others were of him. As one who will
receive therefore a sorer punishment than they who put him forward, so
should he make his scrutiny of himself more careful than that which they
make of him; and if they in ignorance drag him on, he ought to come forward
and instruct them carefully about any matters whereby he may stop their
being misled; and so having shown himself unworthy of trial may escape
the burden of so high an office.
For what is the reason why, in the arts of war,
and merchandize,(2) and husbandry, and other departments of this life,
when some plan is proposed, the husbandman will not undertake to navigate
the ship, nor the soldier to till the ground, nor the pilot to lead an
army, under pain of ten thousand deaths? Is it not plainly this? that each
foresees the danger which would attend his incompetence? Well, where the
loss is concerned with trifles shall we use so much forethought, and refuse
to yield to the pressure of compulsion, but where the punishment is eternal,
as it is for those who know not how to handle the Priesthood, shall we
wantonly and inconsiderately run into so great danger, and then advance,
as our excuse, the pressing entreaties of others? But He who one day will
judge us will entertain no such plea as this. For we ought to show far
more caution in spiritual matters than in carnal. But now we are not found
exhibiting as much caution. For tell me: if supposing a man to be an artificer,
when he is not so, we invited him to do a piece of work, and he were to
respond to the call, and then having set his hand to the material prepared
for the building, were to spoil the wood and spoil the stone, and so to
build the house that it straightway fell to pieces, would it be sufficient
excuse for him to allege that he had been urged by others and did not come
of his own accord? in no wise; and very reasonably and justly so. For he
ought to have refused even at the call of others. So for the man who only
spoils wood and stone, there will be no escape from paying the penalty,
and is he who de-
64
stroys souls, and builds the temple of God carelessly, to think that
the compulsion of others is his warrant for escaping punishment? Is not
this very absurd? For I omit the fact as yet that no one is able to compel
the man who is unwilling. But be it that he was subjected to excessive
pressure and divers artful devices, and then fell into a snare; will this
therefore rescue him from punishment? I beseech thee, let us not deceive
ourselves, and pretend that we know not what is obvious to a mere child.
For surely this pretence of ignorance will not be able to profit in the
day of reckoning. Thou wert not ambitious, thou sayest, of receiving this
high office, conscious of thine own weakness. Well and good. Then thou
oughtest, with the same mind, to have declined the solicitation of others;
or, when no one called thee, wast thou weak and incapable, but when those
were found ready to offer thee this dignity, didst thou suddenly become
competent? What ludicrous nonsense! worthy of the extremest punishment.
For this reason also the Lord counsels the man who wishes to build a tower,
not to lay the foundation before he has taken his own ability to build
into account, lest he should give the passers by innumerable opportunities
of mocking at him.(1) But in his case the penalty only consists in becoming
a laughing-stock; while in that before us the punishment is that of fire
unquenchable, and of an undying worm,(2) gnashing of teeth, outer darkness,
and being cut asunder,(3) and having a portion with the hypocrites.
But my accusers are unwilling to consider any of
these things. For otherwise they would cease to blame a person who is unwilling
to perish without cause. It is not the management of corn and barley, oxen
or sheep, that is now under our consideration, nor any such like matters,
but the very Body of Jesus. For the Church of Christ, according to St.
Paul, is Christ's Body,(4) and he who is entrusted with' its care ought
to train it up to a state of healthiness, and beauty unspeakable, and to
look everywhere, lest any spot or wrinkle,(5) or other like blemish
should mar its vigor and comeliness. For what is this but to make it appear
worthy, so far as human power can, of the incorruptible and ever-blessed
Head which is set over it? If they who are ambitious of reaching an athletic
condition of body need the help of physicians and trainers,(6) and exact
diet, and constant exercise, and a thousand other rules (for the omission
of the merest trifle upsets and spoils the whole), how shall they to whose
lot falls the care of the body, which has its conflict not against flesh
and blood, but against powers unseen, be able to keep it sound and healthy,
unless they far surpass ordinary human virtue, and are versed in all healing
proper for the soul?
3. Pray, art thou not aware that that body is subject
to more diseases and assaults than this flesh of ours, is more quickly
corrupted, and more slow to recover? and by those who have the healing
of these bodies, divers medicines have been discovered, and an apparatus
of different instruments, and diet suitable for the sick; and often the
condition of the atmosphere is of itself enough for the recovery of a sick
man; and there are instances of seasonable sleep having saved the physician
all further labor. But in the case before us, it is impossible to take
any of these things into consideration; nay there is but one method and
way of healing appointed, after we have gone wrong, and that is, the powerful
application of the Word. This is the one instrument, the only diet, the
finest atmosphere. This takes the place of physic, cautery and cutting,
and if it be needful to sear and amputate, this is the means which we must
use, and if this be of no avail, all else is wasted; with this we both
rouse the soul when it sleeps, and reduce it when it is inflamed; with
this we cut off excesses, and fill up defects, and perform all manner of
other operations which are requisite for the soul's health. Now as regards
the ordering of our daily life for the best, it is true that the life of
another may provoke us to emulation. But in the matter of spurious doctrine,
when any soul is diseased thereby, then there is great need of the Word,
not only in view of the safety of our own people, but in view of the enemy
without. If, indeed, one had the sword of the spirit, and the shield of
faith,(7) so as to be able to work miracles, and by means of these marvels
to stop the mouths of impudent gainsayers, one would have little need of
the assistance of the Word; still in the days of miracles the Word was
by no means useless, but essentially necessary. For St. Paul made use of
it himself, although he was everywhere so great an object of wonder for
this miracles; and another(8) of those who belonged to the "glorious company
of the Apostles" exhorts us to apply ourselves to acquiring this power,
when he says: "Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh
you a reason concerning the hope that
65
is in you," and they all, with one accord, committed the care of the
poor widows to Stephen, for no other reason than that they themselves might
have leisure "for the ministry of the Word."(1) To this we ought equally
to apply ourselves, unless indeed we are endued with a power of working
miracles. But if there is not the least sign of such a power being left
us, while on every side many enemies are constantly attacking us, why then
it necessarily follows that we should arm ourselves with this weapon, both
in order that we may not be wounded ourselves with the darts of the enemy,
and in order that we may wound him.
4. Wherefore it should be our ambition that the
Word of Christ dwell in us richly.(2) For it is not for one kind of battle
only that we have to be prepared. This warfare is manifold, and is engaged
with a great variety of enemies; neither do all these use the same weapons,
nor do they practice the same method of attack; and he who has to join
battle with all, must needs know the artifices of all, and be at once both
archer and slinger, captain and general, in the ranks and in command, on
foot and on horseback, in sea-fight and in siege. In common warfare, indeed,
each man repels the enemy by discharging the particular duty which he has
undertaken. But here it is otherwise; and if any one wishes to come off
conqueror in this warfare, he must understand all forms of the art, as
the devil knows well how to introduce his own assailants through any one
spot which may happen to be unguarded, and to carry off the sheep. But
not so where he perceives the shepherd coming equipped with accurate knowledge
at all points, and well acquainted with his plottings. Wherefore we ought
to be well-guarded in all parts: for a city, so long as it happens to be
surrounded with a wall, laughs to scorn the besiegers, abiding in great
security; but if any one makes a breach in the wall, though but of the
size of a gate, the rest of the circuit is of no use, although the whole
of it stand quite securely; so it is with the city of God: so long as the
presence of mind and wisdom of the shepherd, which answers to the wall,
protect it on all sides, all the enemy's devices end in his confusion and
ridicule, and they who dwell within the wall abide unmolested, but wherever
any one has been able to demolish a single part, though the rest stand
never so fast, through that breach ruin will enter upon the whole. For
to what purpose does a man contend earnestly with the Greeks, if at the
same time he becomes a prey to the Jews? or get the better of both these
and then fall into the clutches of the Manichaeans?(3) or after he has
proved himself superior to them even, if they who introduce fatalism(4)
enter in, and make havoc of the flock? But not to enumerate all the heresies
of the devil, it will be enough to say that unless the shepherd is well
skilled in refuting them all, the wolf, by means of any one of them, can
enter, and devour the greater part of the flock. In ordinary warfare we
must always look for victory being won or defeat sustained by the soldiers
who are on the field of battle. But in the spiritual warfare the case is
quite different. For there it often happens that the combat with one set
of enemies secures a victory for others who never engaged in battle at
all, nor took any trouble, but were sitting still all the while;
and he who has not much experience in such occurrences will get pierced,
so to say, with his own sword, and become the laughing-stock of friends
and foes alike. I will try by an example to make clear what I am saying.
They who receive the wild doctrines of Valentinus and Marcion,(5) and of
all whose minds are similarly diseased, exclude the Law given by God to
Moses from the catalogue of the Divine Scriptures. But Jews so revere the
Law, that although the time has come which annuls it, they still contend
for the observance of all its contents, contrary to the purpose of God.
But the Church of God, avoiding either extreme, has trodden a middle path,
and is neither induced on the one hand to place herself under its yoke,
nor on the other does she tolerate its being slandered, but commends it,
though its day is over, because of its profitableness while its season
lasted. Now it is necessary for him who is going to fight with both these
enemies,(6) to be fully conversant with this middle course, For if in wishing
to teach the Jews that they are out of date in clinging to the old law,
he begins to find fault with it unsparingly, he gives no little handle
to those heretics who wish to pull it to pieces; and if in his ambition
to stop their mouths he extols it immoderately, and speaks of it with admiration,
as
66
necessary for this present time, he unseals the lips of the Jews. Again
they who labor under the frenzy of Sabellius and the craze of Arius,(1)
have both fallen from a sound faith for want of observing a middle course.
The name of Christian is applied to both these heretics; but if any one
examines their doctrines, he will find the one sect not much better than
the Jews, and differing from them only in name, and the other(2) very nearly
holding the heresy of Paul of Samosata,(3) and that both are very wide
of the truth. Great, therefore, is the danger in such cases, and the way
of orthodoxy is narrow and hemmed in by threatening crags on either side,
and there is no little fear, test when intending to strike at one enemy
we should be wounded by the other. For if any one assert the unity of the
Godhead, Sabellius straightway turns that expression to the advantage of
his own mental vagary,(4) and if he distinguish the Persons, and say that
the Father is one, and the Son another, and the Holy Spirit a third, up
gets Arius, ready to wrest that distinction of Persons into a difference
of substance;(5) so we must turn and flee both from the impious confounding
of the Persons by the one, and the senseless division of the substance
by the other, confessing, indeed, that the Godhead of the Father and of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, while we add thereunto a Trinity
of Persons. For then we shall be able to fortify ourselves against the
attacks of both heretics. I might tell thee besides these, of several other
adversaries against which, except we contend bravely and carefully, we
shall leave the field covered with wounds.
5. Why should any one describe the silly chatter
of our own people? For these are not less than the attacks upon us from
without, while they give the teacher even more trouble. Some out of an
idle curiosity are rashly bent upon busying themselves about matters which
are neither possible for them to know, nor of any advantage to them if
they could know them. Others again demand from God an account of his judgments,
and force themselves to sound the depth of that abyss which is unfathomable.
"For thy judgments," saith the Scriptures, "are a great deep,"(6) and about
their faith and practice thou wouldest find few of them anxious, but the
majority curiously inquiring into matters which it is not possible to discover,
and the mere inquiry into which provokes God. For when we make a determined
effort to learn what He does not wish us to know, we fail to succeed (for
how should we succeed against the will of God?); and there only remains
for us the danger arising from our inquiry. Now, though this be the case,
whenever any one authoritatively stops the search, into such fathomless
depths, he gets himself the reputation of being proud and ignorant; so
that at such times much tact is needed on the Bishop's part, so as to lead
his people away from these unprofitable questions, and himself escape the
above-named censures. In short, to meet all these difficulties, there is
no help given but that of speech, and if any be destitute of this power,
the souls of those who are put under his charge (I mean of the weaker and
more meddlesome kind) are no better off than ships continually storm
tossed. So that the Priest should do all that in him lies, to gain
this means of strength.
6. BASIL: "Why, then, was not St. Paul ambitious
of becoming perfect in this art? He makes no secret of his poverty of speech,
but distinctly confesses himself to be unskilled, even telling the Corinthians
so,(7) who were admired for their eloquence, and prided themselves upon
it."
CHRYSOSTOM: This is the very thing which has ruined
many and made them remiss in the study of true doctrine. For while they
failed to fathom the depths of the apostle's mind, and to understand the
meaning of his words, they passed all their time slumbering and yawning,
and paying respect not to that ignorance which St. Paul acknowledges, but
to a kind from which he was as free as any man ever was in the world.
But leaving this subject to await our consideration,
I say this much in the meantime. Granting that St. Paul was in this respect
as unskilled as they would have him to be, what has that to do with the
men of to-day? For he had a greater power by far than power of speech,
power which brought about greater results too; which was that his bare
presence, even though he was silent, was terrible to the
67
demons. But the men of the present day, if they were all collected in
one place, would not be able, with infinite prayers and tears, to do the
wonders that once were done by the handkerchief of St. Paul. He too by
his prayers raised the dead,(1) and wrought such other miracles, that he
was held to be a god by heathen;(2) and before he was removed from this
life, he was thought worthy to be caught up as far as the third heaven,
and to share in such converse as it is not lawful for mortal ears to hear.(3)
But the men of to-day--not that I would say anything harsh or severe, for
indeed I do not speak by way of insult to them, but only in wonder--how
is it that they do not shudder when they measure themselves with so great
a man as this? For if we leave the miracles and turn to the life of this
blessed saint, and look into his angelic conversation, it is in this rather
than in his miracles that thou wilt find this Christian athlete a conqueror.
For how can one describe his zeal and forbearance, his constant perils,
his continual cares, and incessant anxiety for the Churches; his sympathy
with the weak, his many afflictions, his unwonted persecutions, his deaths
daily? Where is the spot in the world, where is the continent or sea, that
is a stranger to the labours of this righteous man? Even the desert has
known his presence, for it often sheltered him in time of danger. For he
underwent every species of attack, and achieved every kind of victory,
and there was never any end to his contests and his triumphs.
Yet, all unawares, I have been led to do this man
an injury. For his exploits are beyond all powers of description, and beyond
mine in particular, just as the masters of eloquence surpass me. Nevertheless,
since that holy apostle will judge us, not by the issue, but by the motive,
I shall not forbear till I have stated one more circumstance which surpasses
anything yet mentioned, as much as he himself surpasses all his fellow
men. And what is this? After so many exploits, after such a multitude of
victories, he prayed that he might go into hell, and be handed over to
eternal punishment, if so be that those Jews, who had often stoned him,
and done what they could to make away with him, might be saved, and come
over to Christ.(4) Now who so longed for Christ? If, indeed, his feelings
towards him ought not to be described as something nobler than longing;
shall we then any more compare ourselves with this saint, after so great
grace was imparted to him from above, after so great virtue was manifested
in himself? What could be more presumptuous?
Now, that he was not so unskilled, as some count
him to be, I shall try to show in what follows. The unskilled person in
men's estimation is not only one who is unpracticed in the tricks of profane
oratory,(5) but the man who is incapable of contending for the defence
of the right faith, and they are right. But St. Paul did not say that he
was unskilled in both these respects, but in one only; and in support of
this he makes a careful distinction, saying that he was "rude in speech,
but not in knowledge."(6) Now were I to insist upon the polish of Isocrates,
the weight of Demosthenes, the dignity of Thucydides, and the sublimity
of Plato, in any one bishop, St. Paul would be a strong evidence against
me. But I pass by all such matters and the elaborate ornaments of profane
oratory; and I take no account of style or of delivery; yea let a man's
diction be poor and his composition simple and unadorned, but let him not
be unskilled in the knowledge and accurate statement of doctrine; nor in
order to screen his own sloth, deprive that holy apostle of the greatest
of his gifts, and the sum of his praises.
7. For how was it, tell me, that he confounded the
Jews which dwelt at Damascus,(7) though he had not yet begun to work miracles?
How was it that he wrestled with the Grecians and threw them?(8) and why
was he sent to Tarsus? Was it not because he was so mighty and victorious
in the word, and brought his adversaries to such a pass that they, unable
to brook their defeat, were provoked to seek his life? At that time, as
I said, he had not begun to work miracles, nor could any one say that the
masses looked upon him with astonishment on account of any glory belonging
to his mighty works, or that they who contended with him were overpowered
by the force of public opinion concerning him. For at this time he conquered
by dint of argument only. How was it, moreover, that he contended and disputed
successfully with those who tried to Judaize in Antioch? and how was it
that that Areopagite,(9) an inhabitant of Athens, that most devoted of
all cities to the gods, followed the apostle, he and his wife? was it not
owing to the discourse which they heard? And when Eutychus(10) fell from
the lattice, was it not owing to his long attendance even until midnight
to St. Paul's preaching? How do we find him employed at Thessalonica and
Corinth, in Ephesus and in Rome itself? Did he not spend whole nights and
days in interpreting the Scriptures in their order? and
68
why should any one recount his disputes with the Epicureans and Stoics.(1)
For were we resolved to enter into every particular, our story would grow
to an unreasonable length.
When, therefore, both before working miracles, and
after, St. Paul appears to have made much use of argument, how can any
one dare to pronounce him unskillful whose sermons and disputations were
so exceedingly admired by all who heard them? Why did the Lycaonians(2)
imagine that he was Hermes? The opinion that he and Barnabas were gods
indeed, arose out of the sight of their miracles; but the notion that he
was Hermes did not arise from this, but was a consequence of his speech.
In what else did this blessed saint excel the rest of the apostles? and
how comes it that up and down the world he is so much on every one's tongue?
How comes it that not merely among ourselves, but also among Jews and Greeks,
he is the wonder of wonders? Is it not from the power of his epistles?
whereby not only to the faithful of to-day, but from his time to this,
yea and up to the end, even the appearing of Christ, he has been and will
be profitable, and will continue to be so as long as the human race shall
last. For as a wall built of adamant, so his writings fortify all the Churches
of the known world, and he as a most noble champion stands in the midst,
bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ, casting
down imaginations, and every high thing which exalts itself against the
knowledge of God,(3) and all this he does by those epistles which he has
left to us full of wonders and of Divine wisdom. For his writings are not
only useful to us, for the overthrow of false doctrine and the confirmation
of the true, but they help not a little towards living a good life. For
by the use of these, the bishops of the present day fit and fashion the
chaste virgin, which St. Paul himself espoused to Christ,(4) and conduct
her to the state of spiritual beauty; with these, too, they drive away
from her the noisome pestilences which beset her, and preserve the good
health thus obtained. Such are the medicines and such their efficacy left
us by this so-called unskillful man, and they know them and their power
best who constantly use them. From all this it is evident that St. Paul
had given himself to the study of which we have been speaking with great
diligence and zeal.
8. Hear also what he says in his charge to his disciple:(5)
"Give heed to reading, to exhortation, to teaching," and he goes on to
show the usefulness of this by adding, "For in doing this thou shalt save
both thyself and them that hear thee."(6) And again he says, "The Lord's
servant must not strive, but be gentle towards all, apt to teach, forbearing;"(7)
and he proceeds to say, "But abide thou in the things which thou hast learned,
and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them, and that
from a babe thou hast known the sacred writings which are able to make
thee wise unto salvation,"(8) and again, "Every Scripture is inspired of
God, and also profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for
instruction which is in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete."(9)
Hear what he adds further in his directions to Titus about the appointment
of bishops. "The bishop," he says, "must be holding to the faithful word
which is according to the teaching, that he may be able to convict the
gain-sayers."(10) But how shall any one who is unskillful as these men
pretend, be able to convict the gainsayers and stop their mouths? or what
need is there to give attention to reading and to the Holy Scriptures,
if such a state of unskillfulness is to be welcome among us? Such arguments
are mere makeshifts and pretexts, the marks of idleness and sloth. But
some one will say, "it is to the priests that these charges are given:"--certainly,
for they are the subjects of our discourse. But that the apostle gives
the same charge to the laity, hear what he says in another epistle to other
than the priesthood: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all
wisdom,"(11) and again, "Let your speech be always with grace seasoned
with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer each one,"(12) and there
is a general charge to all that they "be ready to"(13) render an account
of their faith, and to the Thessalonians, he gives the following command:
"Build each other up, even as also ye do."(14) But when he speaks of priests
he says, "Let the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honor,
especially those who labor in the word, and in teaching."(15) For this
is the perfection of teaching when the teachers both by what they do, and
by what they say as well, bring their disciples to that blessed state of
life which Christ appointed for them. For example alone is not enough to
instruct others. Nor do I say this of myself; it is our Saviour's own word.
"For whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great.(16) Now
if doing were the same as teaching, the second word here would be superfluous;
and it had been enough to have said "whosoever shall
69
do" simply. But now by distinguishing the two, he shows that practice
is one thing, and doctrine another, and that each needs the help of the
others in order to complete edification. Thou hearest too what the chosen
vessel of Christ says to the Ephesian elders: "Wherefore watch ye, remembering
that for the space of three years, I ceased not to admonish every one,
night and day, with tears."(1) But what need was there for his tears or
for admonition by word of mouth, while his life as an apostle was so illustrious?
His holy life might be a great inducement to men to keep the commandments,
yet I dare not say that it alone could accomplish everything.
9. But when a dispute arises concerning matters
of doctrine, and all take their weapons from the same Scriptures, of what
weight will any one's life be able to prove? What then will be the good
of his many austerities, when after such painful exercises, any one from
the Priest's great unskillfulness in argument fall into heresy, and be
cut off from the body of the Church, a misfortune which I have myself seen
many suffering. Of what profit then will his patience be to to him? None;
no more than there will be in a sound faith if the life is corrupt. Wherefore,
for this reason more than for all others, it concerns him whose office
it is to teach others, to be experienced in disputations of this kind.
For though he himself stands safely, and is unhurt by the gainsayers, yet
the simple multitude under his direction, when they see their leader defeated,
and without any answer for the gainsayers, will be apt to lay the blame
of his discomfiture not on his own weakness, but on the doctrines themselves,
as though they were faulty; and so by reason of the inexperience of one,
great numbers are brought to extreme ruin; for though they do not entirely
go over to the adversary, yet they are forced to doubt about matters in
which formerly they firmly believed, and those whom they used to approach
with unswerving confidence, they are unable to hold to any longer steadfastly,
but in consequence of their leader's defeat, so great a storm settles down
upon their souls, that the mischief ends in their shipwreck altogether.
But how dire is the destruction, and how terrible the fire which such a
leader brings upon his own wretched head for every soul which is thus lost,
thou wilt not need to learn from me, as thou knowest all this perfectly.
Is this then pride, is this vainglory in me, to be unwilling to be the
cause of the destruction of so many souls? and of procuring for myself
greater punishment in the world to come, than that which now awaits me
there? Who would say so? surely no one, unless he should wish to find fault
where there is none, and to moralize over other men's calamities.
1. How great is the skill required for the teacher
in contending earnestly for the truth, has been sufficiently set forth
by us. But I have to mention one more matter beside this, which is a cause
of numberless dangers, though for my own part I should rather say that
the thing itself is not the cause, but they who know not how to use it
rightly, since it is of itself a help to salvation and to much good besides,
whenever thou findest that earnest and good men have the management of
it. What then, do I mean by this? The expenditure of great labor upon the
preparation of discourses to be delivered in public. For to begin with,
the majority of those who are under the preachers' charge are not minded
to behave towards them as towards teachers, but disdaining the part of
learners, they assume instead the attitude of those who sit and look on
at the public games; and just as the multitude there is separated into
parties, and some attach themselves to one, and some to another, so here
also men are divided, and become the partisans now of this teacher, now
of that, listening to them with a view to favor or spite. And not only
is there this hardship, but another quite as great. For if it has occurred
to any preacher to weave into his sermons any part of other men's works,
he is exposed to greater disgrace than those who steal money. Nay, often
where he has not even borrowed anything from any one, but is only suspected,
he has suffered the fate of a thief. And why do I speak of the works of
others when it is not permitted to him to use his own resources without
variety? For the public are accustomed to listen not for profit, but for
pleasure, sitting like critics of tragedies, and of musical entertainments,
and that facility of speech against which we declaimed just now, in this
case becomes desirable, even more than in the case of barristers, where
they are obliged to contend one against the other. A preacher then should
have loftiness of mind, far exceeding my own littleness of spirit, that
he may correct this disorderly and unprofitable pleasure on the part of
the multitude, and be able to lead them over to a more useful way of hearing,
that his people may follow and yield to him, and that he may not be led
away by their own humors, and this it is not possible to arrive at, except
by two means: indifference to their praise, and the power of preaching
well.(1)
2. For if either of these be lacking,the remaining
one becomes useless, owing to its divorce from the other, for
if a preacher be indifferent to praise, and yet cannot produce
the doctrine
71
"which is with grace seasoned with salt,"(1) he becomes despised by
the multitude, while he gains nothing from his own nobleness of mind; and
if on the other hand he is successful as a preacher, and is overcome by
the thought of applause, harm is equally done in turn, both to himself
and the multitude, because in his desire for praise he is careful to speak
rather with a view to please than to profit. And as he who neither lets
good opinion influence him, nor is skillful in speaking, does not yield
to the pleasure of the multitude, and is unable to do them any good worth
mentioning, because he has nothing to say, so he who is carried away with
desire for praise, though he is able to render the multitude better service,
rather provides in place of this such food as will suit their taste, because
he purchases thereby the tumult of acclamation.
3. The best kind of Bishop must, therefore, be strong
in both these points, so that neither may supplant the other. For if when
he stands up in the congregation and speaks words calculated to make the
careless wince,(2) he then stumbles, and stops short, and is forced to
blush at his failure, the good of what he has spoken is immediately wasted.
For they who are rebuked, being galled by what has been told them, and
unable to avenge themselves on him otherwise, taunt him, with jeers at
this ignorance of his, thinking to screen their own reproach thereby. Wherefore
he ought, like some very good charioteer, to come to an accurate judgment
about both these good things, in order that he may be able to deal with
both as he may have need; for when he is irreproachable in the eyes of
all, then he will be able, with just so much authority as he wishes, both
to correct and to remit from correction all those who are under his rule.
But without this it will not be easy for him to do so. But this nobleness
of soul should be shown not only up to the limit of indifference to praise,
but should go further in order that the gain thus gotten may not in its
turn be fruitless.
4. To what else ought he then to be indifferent?
Slander and envy. Unseasonable evil speaking,(3) however (for of course
the Bishop undergoes some groundless censure), it is well that he should
neither fear nor tremble at excessively, nor entirely pass over; but we
ought, though it happen to be false, or to be brought against us by the
common herd, to try and extinguish it immediately. For nothing so magnifies
both an evil and a good report as the undisciplined mob. For accustomed
to hear and to speak without stopping to make inquiry, they repeat at random
everything which comes in their way, without any regard to the truth of
it. Therefore the Bishop ought not to be unconcerned about the multitude,
but straightway to nip their evil surmisings in the bud; persuading his
accusers, even if they be the most unreasonable of all men, and to omit
nothing which is able to dispel an ill-favored report. But if, when we
do all this, they who blame us will not be persuaded, thenceforward we
should give them no concern. Since if any one be too quick to be dejected
by these accidents, he will not be able at any time to produce anything
noble and admirable. For despondency and constant cares are mighty for
destroying the powers of the mind, and for reducing it to extreme weakness.
Thus then must the Priest behave towards those in his charge, as a father
would behave to his very young children; and as such are not disturbed
either by their insults or their blows, or their lamentations, nor even
if they laugh and rejoice with us, do we take much account of it; so should
we neither be puffed up by the promises of these persons nor cast down
at their censure, when it comes from them unseasonably. But this is hard,
my good friend; and perhaps, methinks, even impossible. For I know not
whether any man ever succeeded in the effort not to be pleased when he
is praised, and the man who is pleased at this is likely also to desire
to enjoy it, and the man who desires to enjoy it will, of necessity, be
altogether vexed and beside himself whenever he misses it. For as they
who revel in being rich, when they fall into poverty are grieved, and they
who have been used to live luxuriously cannot bear to live shabbily; so,
too, they who long for applause, not only when they are blamed without
a cause, but when they are not constantly being praised, become, as by
some famine, wasted in soul, particularly when they happen themselves to
have been used to praise, or if they hear others being praised. He who
enters upon the trial of preaching with desires of this kind, how many
annoyances and how many pangs dost thou think that he has? It is
no more possible for the sea to be without waves than that man to be without
cares and grief.
5. For though the preacher may have great ability
(and this one would only find in a few), not even in this case is he released
from perpetual toil. For since preaching does not come by nature, but by
study, suppose a man to reach a high standard of it, this will then forsake
him if he does not cultivate his power by constant application and exercise.
So that there is greater labor for the wiser than for the
72
unlearned. For there is not the same degree of loss attending negligence
on the part of the one and the other, but the loss is in exact proportion
to the difference between the two possessions. For the latter(1) no one
would blame, as they furnish nothing worth regarding. But the former, unless
they are constantly producing matter beyond the reputation in which all
hold them, great censure attends on all hands; and besides these things,
the latter would meet with considerable praise, even for small performances,
while the efforts of the former, unless they be specially wonderful and
startling, not only fail to win applause, but meet with many fault-finders.
For the audience set themselves to be critics, not so much in judgment
of what is said as of the reputation of the speaker, so that whenever any
one excels all others in oratorical powers, then especially of all others
does he need laborious study. For this man is not allowed to avail himself
of the usual plea which human nature urges, that one cannot succeed in
everything; but if his sermons do not throughout correspond to the greatness
of the expectations formed, he will go away without having gained anything
but countless jeers and censures; and no one takes this into consideration
about him, that dejection and pain, and anxiety, and often anger, may step
in, and dim the clearness of his thoughts and prevent his productions from
coming from him unalloyed,(2) and that on the whole, being but a man, he
cannot be constantly the same, nor at all times acquit himself successfully,
but naturally must sometimes fall short of the mark, and appear on a lower
level of ability than usual. None of these things, as I said, are they
willing to take into consideration, but charge him with faults as if they
were sitting in judgment on an angel; though in other cases, too, a man
is apt to overlook the good performances of his neighbor, though they be
many and great, and if anywhere a defect appears, even if it be accidental,
even if it only occur at long intervals, it is quickly perceived, and always
remembered, and thus small and trifling matters have often lessened the
glory of many and great doings.
6. Thou seest, my excellent friend, that the man
who is powerful in preaching has peculiar need of greater study than others;
and besides study, of forbearance also greater than what is needed by all
those whom I have already mentioned. For thus are many constantly springing
up against him, in a vain and senseless spirit, and having no fault to
find with him, but that he is generally approved of, hate him; and he must
bear their bitter malice nobly, for as they are not able to hide this cursed
hatred, which they so unreasonably entertain, they both revile, and censure,
and slander in private, and defame in public, and the mind which has begun
to be pained and exasperated, on every one of these occasions, will not
escape being corrupted by grief. For they will not only revenge themselves
upon him by their own acts, but will try to do so by means of others, and
often having chosen some one of those who are unable to speak a word, will
extol him with their praises and admire him beyond his worth. Some do this
through ignorance alone,(3) some through ignorance and envy, in order that
they may ruin the reputation of the other, not that they may prove the
man to be wonderful who is not so, and the noble-minded man has not only
to struggle against these, but often against the ignorance of the whole
multitude; for since it is not possible that all those who come together
should consist of learned men, but the chances are that the larger part
of the congregation is composed of unlearned people, and that even the
rest, who are clearer headed than they, fall as far short of being able
to criticize sermons as the remainder again fall short of them; so that
only one or two are seated there who possess this power; it follows, of
necessity, that he who preaches better than others carries away less applause,
and possibly goes home without being praised at all, and he must be prepared
to meet such anomalies nobly, and to pardon those who commit them in ignorance,
and to weep for those who acquiesce in them on account of envy as wretched
and pitiable creatures, and not to consider that his powers have become
less on either of these accounts. For if a man, being a pre-eminently good
painter, and superior to all in his art, sees the portrait which he has
drawn with great accuracy held up to ridicule, he ought not to be dejected,
and to consider the picture poor, because of the judgment of the ignorant;
as he would not consider the drawing that is really poor to be something
wonderful and lovely, because of the astonishment of the inartistic.
7. For let the best artificer be himself the critic
of his own designs, and let his performances be determined to be good or
poor, according as the mind which designed them gives sentence upon them.
But let him not even consider the opinion, so erroneous and inartistic,
of the outside world. Let, therefore, the man who undertakes the strain
of
73
teaching never give heed to the good opinion of the outside world, nor
be dejected in soul on account of such persons; but laboring at his sermons
so that he may please God, (For let this alone be his rule and determination,
in discharging this best kind of workmanship, not acclamation, nor good
opinions,) if, indeed, he be praised by men, let him not repudiate their
applause, and when his hearers do not offer this, let him not seek it,
let him not be grieved. For a sufficient consolation in his labors, and
one greater than all, is when he is able to be conscious of arranging and
ordering his teaching with a view to pleasing God.
8. For if he be first carried away with the desire
for indiscriminate praise, he will reap no advantage from his labors, or
from his power in preaching, for the mind being unable to bear the senseless
censures of the multitude is dispirited, and casts aside all earnestness
about preaching. Therefore it is especially necessary to be trained to
be indifferent to all kinds of praise. For to know how to preach is not
enough for the preservation of that power, if this be not added: and if
any one would examine accurately the man who is destitute of this art,
he will find that he needs to be indifferent to praise no less than the
other,(1) for he will be forced to do many wrong things in placing himself
under the control of popular opinion. For not having the energy to equal
those who are in repute for the quality of their preaching, he will not
refrain from forming ill designs against them, from envying them, and from
blaming them without reason, and from many such discreditable practices,
but will venture everything, even if it be needful to ruin his own soul,
for the sake of bringing down their fame to the level of his own insignificance.
And in addition to this, he will leave off his exertions about his work;
a kind of numbness, as it were, spreading itself over his mind. For much
toil, rewarded by scanty praise, is sufficient to cast down a man who cannot
despise praise, and put him into a deep lethargy, since the husbandman
even when he spends time over some sorry piece of land, and is forced to
till a rock, quickly desists from his work, unless he is possessed of much
earnestness about the matter, or has a fear of famine impending over him.
For if they who are able to speak with considerable power, need such constant
exercise for the preservation of their talent, he who collects no materials
at all, but is forced in the midst of his efforts to meditate; what difficulty,
what confusion, what trouble will he experience, in order that he may be
able at great labor to collect a few ideas! and if any of those clergy
who are under his authority, and who are placed in the inferior order,
be able in that position to appear. to better advantage than he; what a
divine mind must he have, so as not to be seized with envy or cast down
by despondency. For, for one to be placed in a station of higher dignity,
and to be surpassed by his inferior in rank, and to bear this nobly, would
not be the part of any ordinary mind, nor of such as my own, but of one
as hard as adamant; and if, indeed, the man who is in greater repute be
very for-bearing and modest, the suffering becomes so much the more easily
borne. But if he is bold and boastful and vainglorious, a daily death would
be desirable for the other; he will so embitter his life, insulting him
to his face, and laughing at him behind his back, wresting much of his
authority from him, and wishing to be everything himself. But he is possessed
of the greatest security, in all these circumstances, who has fluency in
preaching, and the earnest attention of the multitude about him, and the
affection of all those who are under his charge. Dost not thou know what
a passion for sermons has burst in upon the minds of Christians now-a-days?
and that they who practice themselves in preaching are in especial honor,
not only among the heathen, but among them of the household of the faith?
How then could any one bear such disgrace as to find that all are mute
when he is preaching, and think that they are oppressed, and wait for the
end of the sermon, as for some release from work; while they listen to
another with eagerness though he preach long, and are sorry when he is
about to conclude; and almost angry when it is his purpose to be silent.
If these matters seem to thee to be small, and easily to be despised, it
is because of thine inexperience. They are truly enough to quench zeal,
and to paralyze the powers of the mind, unless a man withdraw himself from
all human passions, and study to frame his conduct after the pattern of
those incorporeal powers, who are neither pursued by envy, nor by longing
for fame, nor by any other morbid feeling. If then there be any man so
constituted as to be able to subdue this wild beast, so difficult to capture,
so unconquerable, so fierce; that is to say, public fame, and to cut off
its many heads, or rather to forbid their growth altogether; he will easily
be able to repel these many violent assaults, and to enjoy a kind of quiet
haven of rest. But he who has not freed himself from this monster, involves
his soul in struggles of various kinds, and perpetual agitation, and the
burden both of despondency and of other passions. But why need I detail
the rest of these difficulties, which no one will be able to describe,
or to learn unless he has had actual experience of them.
1. Our condition here, indeed, is such as thou hast
heard. But our condition hereafter how shall we endure, when we are compelled
to give our account for each of those who have been entrusted to us? For
our penalty is not limited to shame, but everlasting chastisement awaits
us as well. As for the passage, "Obey them that have the rule over you,
and submit to them, for they watch in behalf of your souls as they that
shall give account;(1) though I have mentioned it once already, yet I will
break silence about it now, for the fear of its warning is continually
agitating my soul. For if for him who causes one only, and that the least,
to stumble, it is profitable that "a great millstone should be hanged about
his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the sea;"(2) and if
they who wound the consciences of the brethren, sin against Christ Himself,(3)
what then will they one day suffer, what kind of penalty will they pay,
who destroy not one only, or two, or three, but so many multitudes? For
it is not possible for inexperience to be urged as an excuse, nor to take
refuge in ignorance, nor for the plea of necessity or force to be put forward.
Yea, if it were possible, one of those under their charge could more easily
make use of this refuge for his own sins than bishops in the case of the
sins of others. Dost thou ask why? Because he who has been appointed to
rectify the ignorance of others, and to warn them beforehand of the conflict
with the devil which is coming upon them, will not be able to put forward
ignorance as his excuse, or to say, "I have never heard the trumpet sound,
I did not foresee the conflict." For he is set for that very purpose, says
Ezekiel, that he may sound the trumpet for others, and warn them of the
dangers at hand. And therefore his chastisement is inevitable, though he
that perishes happen to be but one. "For if when the sword comes, the
75
watchman does not sound the trumpet to the people, nor give them a sign,
and the sword come and take any man away, he indeed is taken away on account
of his iniquity, but his blood will I require at the watchman's hands."(1)
2. Cease then to urge us on to a penalty so inevitable;
for our discourse is not about an army, or a kingdom; but about an office
which needs the virtues of an angel. For the soul of the Priest ought to
be purer than the very sunbeams, in order that the Holy Spirit may not
leave him desolate, in order that he may be able to say, "Now I live; and
yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me."(2) For if they who dwell in
the desert, and are removed far from the city and the market-place, and
the tumult therein, and who enjoy all their time a haven of rest, and of
peacefulness, are not willing to rely on the security of that manner of
life, but add to it numberless other safeguards, hedging themselves round
on every side, and studying both to speak and to act with great circumspection,
so that to the utmost extent of human power they may draw near to God with
assurance, and with unstained purity, what power and strength, thinkest
thou, does the ordained Priest need so as to be able to tear his soul away
from every defilement, and to keep its spiritual beauty unsullied? For
he has need of far greater purity than they; and whoever has need of greater
purity, he too is subject to more pressing temptations than they, which
are able to defile him, unless by using constant self-denial and much labor,
he renders his soul inaccessible to them. For beauty of face, elegance
of movement, an affected gait and lisping voice, pencilled eyebrows and
enamelled cheeks, elaborate braiding and dyeing of hair, costliness of
dress, variety of golden ornaments, and the glory of precious stones, the
scent of perfumes, and all those other matters to which womankind devote
themselves, are enough to disorder the mind, unless it happen to be hardened
against them, through much austerity of self restraint. Now to be disturbed
indeed by such things is nothing wonderful. But on the other hand, that
the devil should be able to hit and shoot down the souls of men by the
opposite of these--this is a matter which fills us with astonishment and
perplexity.
3. For ere now some men who have escaped these snares,
have been caught by others widely differing from these. For even a neglected
appearance, unkempt hair, squalid dress, and an unpainted face, simple
behavior, and homely language, unstudied gait, and unaffected voice, a
life of poverty, a despised, unpatronized and lonely condition, have first
drawn on the beholder to pity, and next to utter ruin; and many who have
escaped the former nets, in the way of gold ornaments and perfumes, and
apparel, and all the rest, of which I have spoken as connected with them,
have easily fallen into these so widely differing from them, and have perished.
When then both by poverty and by riches, both by the adornment and the
neglect of the personal appearance, both by studied and unaffected manners,
in short by all those means which I have enumerated, war is kindled in
the soul of the beholder, and its artifices surround him on every side,
how will he be able to breathe freely while so many snares encompass him?
and what hiding-place will he be able to find--I do not say so as to avoid
being forcibly seized by them (for this is not altogether difficult)--but
so as to keep his own soul undisturbed by polluting thoughts?
And I pass by honors, which are the cause of countless
evils. For those which come from the hands of women are ruinous to the
vigor of self-restraint, and often overthrow it when a. man does not know
how to watch constantly against such designs; while those which come from
the hands of men, unless a man receive them with much nobleness of mind,
he is seized with two contrary emotions, servile flattery and senseless
pride. To those who patronize him, he is obliged to cringe; and towards
his inferiors he is puffed up, on account of the honors which the others
confer, and is driven into the gulf of arrogance. We have mentioned these
matters indeed, but how harmful they actually are, no one could well learn
without experience. For not only these snares, but greater and more delusive
than these, he must needs encounter, who has his conversation in the world.
But he who is content with solitude, has freedom from all this, and if
at any time a strange thought creates a representation of this kind, the
image is weak, and capable of being speedily subdued, because there is
no fuel added to the flame from without, arising from actual sight. For
the recluse has but himself to fear for; or should he be forced to have
the care of others they are easily counted: and if they be many, yet they
are less than those in our Churches, and they give him who is set over
them much lighter anxiety about them, not only on account of their fewness,
but because they are all free from worldly concerns, and have neither wife
nor children, nor any such thing to care about; and this makes them very
deferential to their rulers, and allows them to share the same abode with
them, so that they are able to take in their failings accurately at a glance
and correct them, seeing that the constant
76
supervision of a teacher is no little help towards advance in virtue.
4. But of those who are subject to the Priest, the
greater number are hampered with the cares of this life, and this makes
them the slower in the performance of spiritual duties. Whence it is necessary
for the teacher to sow every day (so to speak), in order that by its frequency
at least, the word of doctrine may be able to be grasped by those who hear.
For excessive wealth, and an abundance of power, and sloth the offspring
of luxury, and many other things beside these, choke the seeds which have
been let fall. Often too the thick growth of thorns does not suffer the
seed to drop even upon the surface of the soil. Again, excess of trouble,
stress of poverty, constant insults, and other such things, the reverse
of the foregoing, take the mind away from anxiety about things divine;
and of their people's sins, not even the smallest part can become
apparent; for how should it, in the case of those the majority of whom
they do not know even by sight?
The Priest's relations with his people involve thus
much difficulty. But if any inquire about his relations with
God, he will find the others to be as nothing, since these
require a greater and more thorough earnestness. For he who
acts as an ambassador on behalf of the whole city--but why do I say the
city? on behalf of the whole world indeed--prays that God would be merciful
to the sins of all, not only of the living, but also of the departed.(1)
What manner of man ought he to be? For my part I think that the boldness
of speech of Moses and Elias, is insufficient for such supplication. For
as though he were entrusted with the whole world and were himself the father
of all men, he draws near to God, beseeching that wars may be extinguished
everywhere, that tumults may be quelled; asking for peace and plenty, and
a swift deliverance from all the ills that beset each one, publicly and
privately; and he ought as much to excel in every respect all those on
whose behalf he prays, as rulers should excel their subjects.
And whenever he invokes the Holy Spirit, and offers
the most dread sacrifice, and constantly handles the common Lord of all,
tell me what rank shall we give him? What great purity and what real piety
must we demand of him? For consider what manner of hands they ought to
be which minister in these things, and of what kind his tongue which utters
such words,(2) and ought not the soul which receives so great a spirit
to be purer and holier than anything in the world? At such a time angels
stand by the Priest; and the whole sanctuary, and the space round about
the altar, is filled with the powers of heaven, in honor of Him who lieth
thereon. For this, indeed, is capable of being proved from the very rites
which are being then celebrated. I myself, moreover, have heard some one
once relate, that a certain aged, venerable man, accustomed to see revelations,
used to tell him, that he being thought worthy of a vision of this kind,
at such a time, saw, on a sudden, so far as was possible for him, a multitude
of angels, clothed in shining robes, and encircling the altar, and bending
down, as one might see soldiers in the presence of their King, and for
my part I believe it. Moreover another told me, without learning it from
some one else, but as being himself thought worthy to be both an ear and
eye witness of it, that, in the case of those who are about to depart hence,
if they happen to be partakers of the mysteries, with a pure conscience,
when they are about to breathe their last, angels keep guard over them
for the sake of what they have received, and bear them hence. And dost
thou not yet tremble to introduce a soul into so sacred a mystery of this
kind, and to advance to the dignity of the Priesthood, one robed in filthy
raiment, whom Christ has shut out from the rest of the band of guests?(3)
The soul of the Priest should shine like a light beaming over the whole
world. But mine has so great darkness overhanging it, because of my evil
conscience, as to be always cast down and never able to look up with confidence
to its Lord. Priests are the salt of the earth.(4) But who would easily
put up with my lack of understanding, and my inexperience in all things,
but thou, who hast been wont to love me beyond measure. For the Priest
ought not only to be thus pure as one who has been dignified with so high
a ministry, but very discreet, and skilled in many matters, and to be as
well versed in the affairs of this life as they who are engaged in the
world, and yet to be free from them all more than the recluses who occupy
the mountains. For since he must mix with men who have wives, and who bring
up children, who possess servants, and are surrounded with
77
wealth, and fill public positions, and are persons of influence, he
too should be a many-sided man--I say many-sided, not unreal, nor yet fawning
and hypocritical, but full of much freedom and assurance, and knowing how
to adapt himself profitably, where the circumstances of the case require
it, and to be both kind and severe, for it is not possible to treat all
those under one's charge on one plan, since neither is it well for physicians
to apply one course of treatment to all their sick, nor for a pilot to
know but one way of contending with the winds. For, indeed, continual storms
beset this ship of ours, and these storms do not assail from without only,
but take their rise from within, and there is need of much condescension,
and circumspection, and all these different matters have one end in view,
the glory of God, and the edifying of the Church.
5. Great is the conflict which recluses undergo,
and much their toil. But if any one compare their exertions with those
which the right exercise of the Priesthood involves, he will find the difference
as great as the distance between a king and a commoner. For there, if the
labor is great indeed, yet the conflict is common to body and soul, or
rather the greater part of it is accomplished by the condition of the body,
and if this be not strong, the inclination remains undeveloped, and is
unable to come out into action. For the habit of intense fasting, and sleeping
on the ground, and keeping vigil, and refraining from the bath, and great
toil, and all other means which they use for the affliction of the body
are given up, when the body to be thus disciplined is not strong. But in
this case purity of soul is the business in hand, and no bodily vigor is
required to show its excellence. For what does strength of body contribute
towards our being not self-willed, or proud, or headstrong, but sober and
prudent, and orderly, and all else, wherein St. Paul filled up the picture
of the perfect Priest? But no one could say this of the virtues of the
recluse.
6. But as in the case of wonder-workers, a large
apparatus is required, both wheels and ropes and daggers; while the philosopher
has the whole of his art stored up in his mind,not requiring any external
appliances: So accordingly in the case before us. The recluse requires
both a good condition of body, and a place suitable for his course of life,
in order that such may not be settled too far from intercourse with their
fellow men, and may have the tranquillity which belongs to desert places,
and yet further, may not fail to enjoy the most favorable climate. For
nothing is so unbearable to a body worn with fastings as a climate which
is not equable. And what trouble they are compelled to take in the preparation
of their clothing and daily food, as they are themselves ambitious of doing
all with their own hands, I need not speak of now. But the Priest will
re quire none of these things to supply his wants, I but is unconcerned
about them, and participates in all things which are harmless, while he
has all his skill stored up in the treasure-house of his mind. But if any
one admire a solitary life, and retirement from the society of the multitude,
I should say myself that such a life was a token of patience, but not a
sufficient proof of entire fortitude of soul. For the man who sits at the
helm in harbor, does not yet give any certain proof of his art. But if
one is able to guide his ship safely in the midst of the sea,
no one would deny him to be an excellent steersman.
7. It would be, therefore, in no wise excessively surprising
to us, that the recluse, living as he does by himself, is undisturbed and
does not commit many and great sins. For he does not meet with things which
irritate and excite his mind. But if any one who has devoted himself to
whole multitudes, and has been compelled to bear the sins of many, has
remained steadfast and firm, guiding his soul in the midst of the storm
as if he were in a calm, he is the man to be justly applauded and admired
of all, for he has shown sufficient proof of personal manliness. Do not
thou, therefore, for thy part wonder if I, who avoid the market-place and
the haunts of the multitude, have not many to accuse me. For I ought not
to wonder, if I sinned not when asleep, nor fell when I did not wrestle,
nor was hit if I did not fight. For who, tell me, who will be able to speak
against me, and reveal my depravity? Can this roof or cell? Nay, they would
not be able to give tongue? Would my mother, who best of all knows my affairs?
Well, certainly with her I am neither in communication, nor have we ever
come to a quarrel, and if this had happened, no mother is so heartless
and wanting in affection for her child as to revile and accuse before all
him whom she travailed with, and brought forth, and reared, if there were
no reason to constrain her, nor any person to urge her to such an act.
Nevertheless, if any one desires to make a careful inspection of my mind,
he will discover much which is corrupt there. Nor art thou unaware of this
who art specially wont to extol me with
78
praises before all. Now that I do not say these things out of mere modesty,
recollect how often I said to thee, when this subject was being
discussed between us, "If any one were to give me my choice whether I would
rather gain distinction in the oversight of the Church, or in the life
of the recluse, I would vote a thousand times over for accepting the former.
For I have never failed to congratulate those who have been able to discharge
this office well, and no one will gainsay that what I counted blessed I
would not have shunned were I able to take part in it filly. But what am
I to do? There is nothing so prejudicial to the oversight of the Church
as this inactivity and negligence of mine, which others think to be a sort
of self-discipline, but which I hold to be a veil as it were of my personal
infirmity, covering the greater number of my defects and not suffering
them to appear. For he who is accustomed to enjoy such great freedom from
business, and to pass his time in much repose, even if he be of a noble
nature, is confused by his inexperience, and is disturbed, and his inactivity
deprives him of no small part of his natural ability. But when, besides,
he is of slow intellect, and ignorant also of these severe trials, which
I take it is my case, he will carry on this ministry which he has received
no better than a statue. Wherefore of those who have come to such great
trial, out of that school, few shine; and the greater part betray themselves,
and fall, and undergo much hardship and sufferings; and no wonder. For
the trials and the discipline are not concerned with the same things. The
man who is contending in no wise differs from those who are untrained.
He who thus enters this list should despise glory, be superior to anger,
full of great discretion. But for the exercise of these qualities there
is no scope in his case who affects a secluded life. For he does not have
many to provoke him in order that he may practise chastising, the force
of his anger: nor admirers and applauders in order that he may be trained
to despise the praises of the multitudes. And of the discretion which is
required in the Church, there is no taking account in their case. Whenever,
therefore, they come to the trials of which they have never had practical
experience, they get bewildered, their heads are turned, they fall into
a state of helplessness, and besides adding nothing to their excellence,
may have often lost that which they brought with them.
8. BASIL: What then? shall we set over the administration
of the Church those who move in society, and who are careful about the
concerns of this world, who are adepts at wrangling and vituperation, are
full of countless artifices, and versed in luxurious ways?
CHRYSOSTOM: Hush, dear friend that thou art! Thou
shouldest never entertain in thy thoughts such men as these, when the Priesthood
is under discussion, but only such as are able after mixing and associating
with all, to keep their purity undefiled, and their unworldliness, their
holiness, constancy and sobriety unshaken, and to possess all other virtues
which belong to recluses, in a greater degree than they. He who has many
defects, but is able to hide them, by means of his seclusion, and to make
them ineffectual, because he does not associate with any one, when he comes
into society will gain nothing, but the position of a laughing-stock, and
will run greater risks still, which I was very nearly experiencing myself,
had not the providence of God quickly warded off such fire from my head.
For it is not possible for one in such a position to escape notice when
he is so conspicuously placed, but everything then is detected, and as
the fire tests the material of metals, so too the trial of the clerical
office searches the souls of mortal men; and if any one be passionate or
mean, or ambitious of fame, if he be boastful, or anything else of the
kind, it unveils all; and speedily lays bare his defects, and not only
lays them bare, but increases their painfulness and strength. For the wounds
of the body, if they are galled, become harder to heal, and the emotions
of the mind when chafed and irritated, are naturally more exasperated,
and those who possess them are driven to commit greater sins. For they
excite him who does not restrain them, to love of glory, and to boastfulness,
and to desire for this world's goods, and draw him downwards, both to luxury
and laxity of life, and to laziness, and, little by little, to evils worse
than these which result from them. For many are the circumstances in society
which have the power to upset the balance of the mind, and to hinder its
straightforward course;(1) and first of all is his social intercourse with
women. For it is not possible for the Bishop, and one who is concerned
with the whole flock, to have a care for the male portion of it, but to
pass over the female, which needs more particular forethought, because
of its propensity to sins. But the man who is appointed to the administration
of a Bishopric must have a care for the moral health of these, if not in
a greater, at least in no less a degree than the others. For it is necessary
to visit them when they are sick, to comfort them when they are sorrowful,
and to reprove them when they are idle,
79
and to help them when they are distressed; and in such cases the evil
one would find many opportunities of approach, if a man did not fortify
himself with a very strict guard. For the eye, not only of the unchaste,
but of the modest woman pierces and disturbs the mind. Flatteries enervate
it, and favors enslave it, and fervent love--the spring one may say of
all good--becomes the cause of countless evils to those who do not make
a right use of it. Constant cares too have ere now blunted the edge of
the understanding, and have made that which was buoyant heavier than lead,
while anger has burst in like smoke, and taken possession of all the inner
man.
9. Why should any one speak of the injuries that
result from grief,(2) the insults, the abuse, the censure from superiors,
from inferiors, from the wise, and from fools; for the class who are wanting
in right judgment are particularly fond of censuring, and will never readily
allow any excuse. But the truly excellent Bishop ought neither to think
lightly of these, but to clear himself with all men of the
charges which they bring against him, with great forbearance and meekness,
pardoning their unreasonable fault-finding, rather than being
indignant and angry about it. For if St. Paul feared lest he should incur
a suspicion of theft, among his disciples, and therefore procured others
for the management of the money, that "no one" he says, "should blame us
in this abundance which is administered by us,(2) how ought we not to do
all so as to remove evil suspicions, even if they happen to be false, and
most unreasonable, and very foreign to our thought? For we are not so utterly
removed from any sin as St. Paul from theft; notwithstanding, though so
far from this evil practice, he did not, therefore, slight the suspicion
of the world, although it was very absurd, and even insane. For it was
madness to have any such suspicion about that blessed and admirable character.
But none the less does he remove far off the causes of this suspicion,
unreasonable though it was, and such as no one who was in his senses would
entertain, and he neither disdained the folly of the multitudes, nor did
he say, "To whose mind did it ever occur to suspect such things of us,
after the signs which I have wrought, and the forbearance which has marked
my life, and when you all revered and admired us?" Quite the contrary:
he foresaw and expected this base suspicion, and pulled it up by the roots,
or rather did not suffer it to grow at all. Why? "Because," saith he, "we
provide things honest not only before the Lord, but before all men."(3)
So great, yea and far greater zeal must we use, to uproot and prevent floating
reports which are not good, but to see beforehand from afar whence they
come, and to remove beforehand the causes from which they are produced,
not to wait till they are established and are the common topics in every
one's mouth. For then it is not easy in the future to destroy them, but
very difficult, perhaps impossible, and not without mischief, because this
is done after many have been injured. But how far shall I continue pursuing
the unattainable? For to enumerate all the difficulties in this direction,
is nothing more nor less than measuring the ocean. Even when any one should
clear himself from every passion (which is a thing impossible) in order
to correct the failings of others, he is forced to undergo countless trials,
and when his own infirmities are added, behold, an abyss of toil and care,
and all that he must suffer, who wishes to subdue the evils in himself
and in those around him.
10. BASIL: And now, art thou free from toils? hast
thou no cares while thou livest by thyself?
CHRYSOSTOM: I have indeed even now. For how is it
possible for one who is a man, and who is living this toilsome life of
ours, to be free from cares and conflict? But it is not quite the same
thing for man to plunge into a boundless ocean and to cross a river, so
great is the difference between these cares and those. For now, indeed,
if I were able to become serviceable to others, I should wish it myself,
and this would be a matter of prayer with me. But if it is not possible
to help another, yet if it be practicable to save and rescue myself from
the waves, I shall be contented.
BASIL: Dost thou then think this to be a great thing?
and dost thou fancy that thou wilt be saved when thou art not profitable
to any other?
CHRYSOSTOM: Thou hast spoken well and nobly, for
I am not myself able to believe that it is possible for one who has not
labored for the salvation of his fellow to be saved, nor did it at all
profit the wretched man in the Gospel that he had not diminished his talent;
but he perished through not increasing it and bringing it doubled to his
master.(4) Nevertheless, I think that my punishment will be milder when
I am called to account, because I have not saved others, than it would
be if I should destroy myself and others too by becoming far worse after
so great an honor. For now I trust that my chastisement will be proportioned
80
to the amount of my sins, but after receiving this office, I fear it
would be not double, or threefold, but manifold, because I should have
caused very many to stumble, and after additional honor should have offended
the God who honored me.
11. For this very cause God accuses the Israelites
more vehemently, and shows that they were worthy of greater chastisement,
because they sinned after so many honors had come to them from Him, saying
in one place: "But you only have I known of all the families of the earth,
therefore will I punish you for your iniquities,"(1) and again, "and I
raised up of your sons for prophets, and of your young men for Nazarites;(2)
and before the times of the prophets, wishing to show that sins receive
sorer punishment by far when they occur in the case of the Priest than
in the case of the laity, He enjoins as great a sacrifice to be offered
for the Priest as for the whole people,(3) and this amounts to a proof
on his part, that the wounds of the Priesthood need more assistance--that
is, as great as those of all the people together, and they would not have
needed a greater, except they were worse; and they are not worse in their
nature, but are aggravated through the dignity of the Priest, who dares
to commit them. And why do I speak of the men who follow this ministration.
For the daughters of the Priests,(4) who have no part in the Priestly office,
yet on account of their father's dignity undergo a far bitterer punishment
for the same sins as others, and the offense is the same in their case
and in the daughters of the laity; namely, fornication in both; yet the
penalty is far severer for the former. Dost thou see with what abundant
proof God shows thee that he demands much greater punishment for the ruler
than for the ruled? For no doubt he who punishes to a greater degree than
others the daughter of a certain man for that man's sake, will not exact
the same penalty from the man who is the cause of her additional chastisement
as from others, but a much heavier one; and very reasonably; for the mischief
does not merely involve himself, but it destroys the souls of the weaker
brethren and of them who look up to him, and Ezekiel, writing to show this,
distinguishes from one another the judgment of the rams and of the sheep.(5)
12. Do we then seem to thee to entertain a reasonable
fear? for in addition to what has been said, although much toil is needful
on my part, so that I should not be completely overwhelmed by the passions
of my soul, yet I endure the toil, and I do not shun the conflict. For
even now I am taken captive by vainglory, but I often recover myself, and
I see at a glance that I have been taken, and there are times when
I rebuke my soul, which has been enslaved; outrageous desires even now
come over me, but they kindle only a languid flame, since m bodily
eves cannot fasten upon any fuel to feed the fire. From speaking ill of
any, or from hearing any one evil spoken of, I am utterly removed,
since I have no one to talk with; for surely these walls would never
give tongue; yet it is not altogether in like manner possible to avoid
anger, although there be none to provoke it. For often when the recollection
of outrageous men has come over me, and of the deeds done by them, it makes
my heart swell. But not permanently, for I quickly subdue its kindling,
and persuade it to be quiet, saying that it is very inexpedient and extremely
despicable to leave one's own fault alone, and to busy one's self about
the faults of one's neighbors. But were I to come among the multitude,
and to be involved in countless excitements, I should not be able to have
the benefit of this warning, nor to experience reflections which take me
thus to task. But just as they who are driven over precipices by a torrent,
or in some other way, are able to foresee the destruction to which they
are finally going, and are unable to think of any means of help, so I,
when I have fallen into the great tumult of my passions, shall be able
to see at a glance my chastisement daily increasing. But to be master of
myself as I am now, and to rebuke diseases of this sort raging on every
side, would not be equally easy for me as it was before. For my soul is
weak and puny, and easily mastered, not only by these passions, but by
envy, which is bitterer than all of them. Neither does it know how to bear
insults or honors temperately. But these do exceedingly elate it, while
those depress it. As, then, savage wild beasts, when they are in good condition,
and in full vigor, overcome those that fight with them, particularly, too,
if they be feeble and unskillful; but if any one were to weaken them by
starvation, he will put their rage to sleep, and will extinguish most of
their strength; so that one, not over valiant, might take up the conflict
and battle with them: so also with the passions of the soul. He who makes
them weak, places them in subjection to right reason; but he who nourishes
them carefully, makes his battle with them harder, and renders them so
formidable that he passes all his time in bondage and fear.
What then is the food of these wild beasts? Of vainglory,
indeed, it is honors and applause;of pride, abundance of authority and
power;
81
of envy, the reputation of one's neighbors; of avarice, the munificence
of the generous; of incontinence, luxury and the constant society of women;
and other passions have their proper nutriment? And all these things will
sorely attack me if I come forth into the world, and will tear my soul
to pieces, will be the more formidable and will make my battle with them
the harder. Whereas, while I am established here they will be subdued;
and then, indeed, only with great exertion; yet at the same time, by the
Grace of God, they will be subdued, and there will not be anything worse
then than their bark. For these reasons I keep to this cell, and am inaccessible,
self-contained, and unsociable, and I put up with hearing countless complaints
of this kind, although I would gladly efface them, and have been vexed
and grieved because I cannot; for it is not easy for me to become sociable,
and at the same time to remain in my present security. Therefore I beseech
thee, too, to pity rather than to censure one beset with such great difficulty.
But we cannot yet persuade thee. Accordingly the
time is now come that I should utter to thee the only thing which I have
left spoken. Perhaps it may seem to many to be incredible, but even so
I shall not be ashamed to bring it before the world, for though what is
said is proof of an evil conscience and of many sins, yet, since God, who
is about to judge us, knows all accurately, what gain will result to us
from the ignorance of men? What then is this, which is yet unspoken? From
that day on which thou didst impart to me the suspicion of the bishopric,
my whole system has often been in danger of being completely unhinged,
such was the fear, such the despondency which seized my soul; for on considering
the glory of the Bride of Christ, the holiness, the spiritual beauty and
wisdom, and comeliness, and then reckoning up my own faults, I used not
to cease bewailing both her and myself, and amidst continual distress and
perplexity, I kept saying--who then made such a suggestion as this? why
has the Church of God made so great a mistake? why has she so provoked
her Master, as to be delivered over to me, the unworthiest of all men,
and to undergo such great disgrace? Considering these things often by myself,
and being unable to bear the thought of so monstrous a thing, I used to
be like thunderstruck people, speechless, and unable either to see or hear.
And when this condition of great helplessness left me, for there were times
when it passed off, tears and despondency succeeded to it, and after the
flood of tears, then fear again, entered in their stead, disturbing, confusing
and agitating my mind. In such a tempest I used to pass the time that is
gone; but thou wast ignorant of it, and thoughtest that I was spending
my time in a perfect tranquillity, but I will now try and unveil to thee
the storm of my soul, for it may be thou wilt henceforth pardon me, abandoning
your accusations. How then shall I unveil this to thee? For if thou wouldest
see this clearly, it is not otherwise possible than by laying bare my own
heart; but as this is impossible, I will try and show you as well as I
can, by a certain faint illustration, the gloom of my despondency, and
from this image please to infer my condition.
Let us suppose that the daughter of the King of
all the earth under the sun is the betrothed of a certain man, and that
this damsel has matchless beauty, transcending that of human nature, and
that in this respect she outstrips by a long distance the whole race of
women; also that she has virtues of the soul, so great as to distance by
a long way the whole generation of men that have been, or that shall be;
and that the grace of her manners transcends all Standards of art, and
that the loveliness of her person is eclipsed by the beauty of her countenance;
and that her betrothed, not only for the sake of these things, is enamored
of the maiden, but apart from these things has an affection for her, and
by his ardor throws into the shade the most passionate of lovers that ever
were. Then let us suppose, whilst he is burning with love, he hears from
some quarter that some mean, abject man, low born, and crippled in body,
in fact a thoroughly bad fellow, was about to wed this wondrous, well-beloved
maiden. Have we then presented to thee some small portion of our grief?
and is it enough to stay my illustration at this point? So far as my despondency
is concerned, I think it is enough; for this was the only purpose for which
I introduced the comparison, but that I may show you the measure of my
fear, and my terror, let me proceed to another description.
Let there be an armament composed of infantry, cavalry,
and marines, and let a number of triremes cover the sea, and phalanxes
of foot and horse cover most of the plains, and the ridges of the mountains,
and let the metal of their armor reflect the sunshine, and the glitter
of the helmets and shields be reflected by the beams which are emitted
from them; let the clashing of spears and the neighing of horses be borne
up to the very heavens, and let neither sea nor land appear, but only brass
and iron in every direction. Let the enemy be drawn up in battle array
opposite to these, fierce and savage men, and let the time of the engagement
be now at hand. Then let some one suddenly seize some young lad, one of
82
those brought up in the country, knowing nothing but the use of the
shepherd's pipe and crook; let him be clad in brazen armor, and let him
be led round the whole camp and be shown the squadrons and their officers,
the archers, slingers, captains, generals, the foot and horse, the spearmen,
the triremes and their commanders, the dense mass of soldiers in the ships,
and the multitude of engines of war lying ready on board. Let him be shown,
moreover, the whole array of the enemy, their repulsive aspect, and the
varied stores and unusual quantity of their arms; the ravines also and
precipices of the mountains, deep and difficult. Let him be shown further
on the enemies' side, horses flying by some enchantment and infantry borne
through the air, and sorcery of every power and form; and let him consider
the calamities of war, the cloud of spears, the hailstorm of arrows, that
rest mist and obscurity that gloomiest night which the multitude of weapons
occasions, eclipsing the sunbeams with their cloud, the dust no less than
the darkness baffling the eyesight. The torrents of blood, the groanings
of the falling, the shouts of the surviving, the heaps of slain, wheels
bathed in blood, horses with their riders thrown headlong down, owing to
the number of corpses, the ground a scene of general confusion, blood,
and bows, and arrows, hoofs of horses and heads of men lying together,
a human arm and a chariot wheel and a helmet, a breast pierced through,
brains sticking to swords, the point of a dart broken off with an eye transfixed
upon it. Then let him reckon up the sufferings of the naval force, the
triremes burning in the midst of the waves, and sinking with their armed
crews, the roaring of the sea, the tumult of the sailors, the shout of
the soldiers, the foam of the waves mixed with blood, and dashing over
into all the ships; the corpses on the decks, some sinking, some floating,
some cast upon the beach, overwhelmed by the waves, and obstructing the
passage of the ships. And when he has been carefully instructed in all
the tragedy of warfare, let the horrors of captivity and of slavery be
added to it, worse than any kind of death; and having told him all this,
bid him mount his horse straightway, and take command of all that armament.
Dost thou really think that this lad would be equal
to more than the mere description, and would not, at the very first glance,
lose heart?
13. Do not think that I have exaggerated the matter
by my account, nor suppose that because we are shut up in this body, as
in some prison house, and are unable to see anything of the invisible world,
that what has been said is overstated. For thou wouldest see a far greater
and more formidabl econflict than this, couldest thou ever behold, with
these eyes of thine, the devil's most gloomy battle array, and his frantic
onset. For there is no brass or iron there. No horses, or chariots or wheels,
no fire and darts. These are visible things. But there are other much more
fearful engines than these. One does not need against these enemies breastplate
or shield, sword and spear, yet the sight only of this accursed array is
enough to paralyze the soul, unless it happen to be very noble, and to
enjoy in a high degree as a protection to its own courage the providential
care of God. And if it were possible by putting off this body, or still
keeping it, to see clearly and fearlessly with the naked eye the whole
of his battle array, and his warfare against us, thou wouldest see no torrents
of blood, nor dead bodies, but so many fallen souls, and such disastrous
wounds that the whole of that description of warfare which I just now detailed
to thee thou wouldest think to be mere child's sport and pastime rather
than war: so many are there smitten every day, and the wounds in the two
cases do not bring about the same death, but as great as is the difference
between the soul from the body, so great is the difference between that
death and this. For when the soul receives a wound, and falls, it does
not lie as a lifeless body, but it is thenceforth tormented, being gnawed
by an evil conscience; and after its removal hence, at the time of judgment,
it is delivered over to eternal punishment; and if any one be without grief
in regard to the wounds given by the devil, his danger becomes the greater
for his insensibility. For whoever is not pained by the first wound, will
readily receive a second, and after that a third. For the unclean spirit
will not cease assaulting to the last breath, whenever he finds a soul
supine and indifferent to his first wounds; and if thou wouldest inquire
into the method of attack, thou wouldest find this much more severe and
varied. For no one ever knew so many forms of craft and deceit as that
unclean spirit. By this indeed, he has acquired the greater part of his
power, nor can any one have so implacable a hatred against his worst enemies
as the evil one against the human race. And if any one inquire into the
vehemence with which he fights, here again it would be ludicrous to bring
men into comparison with him. But if any one choose out the fiercest and
most savage of beasts, and is minded to set their fury against his, he
will find that they were meek and quiet in comparison, such
rage does he breathe forth when he attacks our souls; and the period of
the war-
83
fare indeed in the former case is brief, and in this brief space there
are respites; for the approach of the night and the fatigue of slaughter,
meal-times also, and many other things, afford a respite to the soldier,
so that he can doff his armor and breathe a little, and refresh himself
with food and drink, and in many other ways recover his former strength.
But in the case of the evil one it is not possible ever to lay aside one's
armor, it is not possible even to take sleep, for one who would remain
always unscathed. For one of two things must be: either to fall and perish
unarmed, or to stand equipped and ever watchful. For he ever stands with
his own battle array, watching for our indolence, and laboring more zealously
for our destruction, than we for our salvation.
And that he is not seen by us, and suddenly assails
us, which things are a source of countless evils to those who are not always
on the watch, proves this kind of war to be harder than the other. Couldest
thou wish us, then, in such a case to command the soldiers of Christ? yea,
this were to command them for the devil's service, for whenever he who
ought to marshal and order others is the most inexperienced and feeble
of all men, by betraying through this inexperience those who have been
entrusted to his charge, he commands them in the devil's interests rather
than in Christ's.
But why dost thou sigh? why weep? For my ease does
not now call for wailing, but for joy and gladness.
BASIL: But not my case, yea this calls for countless
lamentations. For I am hardly able yet to understand to what degree of
evil thou hast brought me. For I came to thee wanting to learn what excuse
I should make on thy behalf to those who find fault with thee; but thou
sendest me back after putting another case in the place of that I had.
For I am no longer concerned about the excuses I shall give them on thy
behalf, but what excuse I shall make to God for myself and my own faults.
But I beseech thee, and implore thee, if my welfare is at all regarded
by thee, if there be any consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love,
if any bowels, and mercies,(1) for thou knowest that thyself above all
hast brought me into this danger, stretch forth thine hand, both saying
and doing what is able to restore me, do not have the heart to leave me
for the briefest moment, but now rather than before let me pass my life
with thee.
CHRYSOSTOM: But I smiled, and said, how shall I
be able to help, how to profit thee under so great a burden of office?
But since this is pleasant to thee, take courage, dear soul, for at any
time at which it is possible for thee to have leisure amid thine own cares,
I will come and will comfort thee, and nothing shall be wanting of what
is in my power.
On this, he weeping yet more, rose up. But I, having
embraced him and kissed his head, led him forth, exhorting him to bear
his lot bravely. For I believe, said I, that through Christ who has called
thee, and set thee over his own sheep, thou wilt obtain such assurance
from this ministry as to receive me also, if I am in danger at the last
day, into thine everlasting tabernacle.
ST. CHRYSOSTOM:
AN EXHORTAT ON TO THEODORE AFTER HIS FALL
TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY
REV. W. R. W, STEPHENS, M.A,
PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER, AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING, SUSSEX.
INTRODUCTION TO THE LETTERS TO THEODORE.
THESE two letters, which are the earliest of Chrysostom's
extant works, are addressed to a friend who had been a member of the little
ascetic brotherhood which Chrysostom and Basil formed, soon after they
had abandoned secular life, as described in the first book of the Treatise
on the Priesthood. Theodore, like Maximus, afterwards Bishop of Isaurian
Seleucia, who was another member of the same fraternity, had been a fellow
student with Chrysostom and Basil in the school of Libanius,(1) but was
a few years younger than either of them. The strain upon his powers of
religious devotion had proved too much for him; he had withdrawn from the
ascetic brotherhood, and relapsed for a season into worldly habits, being
fascinated by the beauty of a young lady named Hermione, whom he was anxious
to marry. His fall was regarded with almost as much sorrow and dismay by
his austere friends as if he had plunged into deadly vice. Prayers were
continually offered, and great efforts made for his restoration, amongst
which must be reckoned the two letters which are here translated. They
are the productions of a youthful enthusiast, and as such allowances must
be made for them; but they abound in passages of great beauty and power,
especially upon the infinite love and forbearance of God, as encouraging
to repentance and withholding from despair and recklessness into which
Theodore seems to have been inclined to sink. The appeal of Chrysostom,
combined with the efforts of his other friends, was not in vain. Theodore
once more renounced the world and his matrimonial intentions, and retired
into the seclusion of the fraternity. In A.D. 383, when he was about thirty-three
years of age, he was ordained priest, and in 392 he became Bishop of Mopsuestia,
where he died in A.D. 428 at the age of seventy-eight. Chrysostom seems
to have retained his affection to him to the last, and during his own exile
at Cucusus, A.D. 404-7, wrote a letter to him which is full of expressions
of fervent admiration and regard. He was a most voluminous writer, and
may be regarded as the ablest representative of the school of Biblical
interpretation founded by Diodorus of Tarsus, under whom he had studied,
together with Chrysostom and Basil. A fierce controversy raged during the
fifth and sixth centuries respecting the orthodoxy of some of his writings
which some accused of preparing the way for Nestorianism. When this had
died down his name was comparatively forgotten, and it is only in modern
times that his great merits as a commentator, who boldly applied the historical
and grammatical methods of examination to the books of Holy Scripture,
have been fully recognized.
Tillemont was of opinion that of the two letters
of Chrysostom the second only was addressed to Theodore, who was afterwards
Bishop of Mopsuestia. Montfaucon, however, Dupin, and Savile, maintain
that both were addressed to him, and their view is confirmed by the fact
that Leontius of Byzantium (in Nest. et. Eutych. lib. iii. c. 7) and Isidore
of Seville (de Script. Eccl. c. 6.) mention two letters of Chrysostom to
Theodore of Mopsuestia.
AN EXHORTATION TO THEODORE AFTER
HIS FALL.
LETTER I.
"OH! that my head were water, and mine eyes a fountain of tears!"(1) it is seasonable for me to utter these words now, yea much more than for the prophet in his time. For although I am not about to mourn over many cities, or whole nations, yet shall I mourn over a soul which is of equal value with many such nations, yea even more precious. For if one man who does the will of God is better than ten thousand transgressors, then thou wast formerly better than ten thousand Jews. Wherefore no one would now blame me if I were to compose more lamentations than those which are contained in the prophet, and to utter complaints yet more vehement. For it is not the overthrow of a city which I mourn, nor the captivity of wicked then, but the desolation of a sacred soul, the destruction and effacement of a Christ-bearing temple.(2) For would not any one who knew in the days of its glory that well-ordered mind of thine which the devil has now set on fire, groan, imitating the lamentation of the prophet; when he hears that barbarian hands have defiled the holy of holies, and have set fire to all things and burned them up, the cherubim, the ark, the mercy seat, the tables of stone, the golden pot? For this calamity is bitterer, yea bitterer than that, in proportion as the pledges deposited in thy soul were far more precious than those. This temple is holier than that; for it glistened not with gold and silver, but with the grace of the Spirit, and in place of the ark and the cherubim, it had Christ, and His Father, and the Paraclete seated within. But now all is changed, and the temple is desolate, and bare of its former beauty and comeliness, unadorned with its divine and unspeakable adornments, destitute of all security and protection; it has neither door nor bolt, and is laid open to all manner of soul-destroying and shameful thoughts; and if the thought of arrogance or fornication, or avarice, or any more accursed than these, wish to enter in there is no one to hinder them; whereas formerly, even as the Heaven is inaccessible to all these, so also was the purity of thy soul. Now perhaps I shall seem to say what is incredible to some who now witness thy desolation and overthrow; for on this account I wail and mourn, and shall not cease doing so, until I see thee again established in thy former lustre. For although this seems to be impossible to men, yet to God all things are possible. For it is He "who raiseth the poor from the earth, and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill, to set him with the princes, even with the princes of his people." It is He "who makes the barren woman to dwell at home, a mother rejoicing over her children."(3) Do not then despair of the most perfect change. For if the devil had such great power as to cast thee down from that pinnacle and height of virtue into the extremity of evil doing, much more will God be able to draw thee up again to thy former confidence; and not only indeed to make you what you were before, but even much happier. Only be not downcast, nor fling away good hopes, nor fall into the condition of the ungodly. For it is not the multitude of sins which is wont to plunge men into despair, but impiety of soul. Therefore Solomon did not make the unqualified statement "every one who has entered into the den of the wicked, despiseth;" but only "he who is ungodly."(4) For
92
it is such persons only who are affected in this way when they have
entered the den of the wicked. And this it is which does not suffer them
to look up, and re-ascend to the position from which they fell. For this
accursed thought pressing down like some yoke upon the neck of the soul,
and so forcing it to stoop, hinders it from looking up to the Master. Now
it is the part of a brave and excellent man to break this yoke in pieces,
to shake off the tormentor fastened upon him; and to utter the words of
the prophet, "As the eyes of a maiden look unto the hands of her mistress,
even so our eyes look unto the Lord our God until He have mercy upon us.
Have pity upon us, O Lord, have pity upon us, for we have been utterly
filled with contempt."(1) Truly divine are these precepts, and decrees
of the highest form of spiritual wisdom. We have been filled, it is said,
with contempt, and have undergone countless distresses; nevertheless we
shall not desist from looking up to God, neither shall we cease praying
to him until He has received our petition. For this is the mark of a noble
soul, not to be cast down, nor be dismayed at the multitude of the calamities
which oppress it, nor to withdraw, after praying many times without success,
but to persevere, until He have mercy upon us, even as the blessed David
saith.
2. For the reason why the devil plunges us into
thoughts of despair is that he may cut off the hope which is towards God,
the safe anchor, the foundation of our life, the guide of the way which
leads to heaven, the salvation of perishing souls. "For by hope" it is
said, "we are saved."(2) For this assuredly it is which, like some strong
cord suspended from the heavens, supports our souls, gradually drawing
towards that world on high those who cling firmly to it, and lifting them
above the tempest of the evils of this life. If any one then becomes enervated,
and lets go this sacred anchor, straightway he falls down, and is suffocated,
having entered into the abyss of wickedness. And the Evil One knowing this,
when he perceives that we are ourselves oppressed by the consciousness
of evil deeds, steps in himself and lays upon us the additional burden,
heavier than lead, of anxiety arising from despair; and if we accept it,
it follows of necessity that we are forthwith dragged down by the weight,
and having been parted from that cord, descend into the depth of misery
where thou thyself art now, having forsaken the commandments of the meek
and lowly Master and executing all the injunctions of the cruel tyrant,
and implacable enemy of our salvation; having broken in pieces the easy
yoke, and cast away the light burden, and having put on the iron collar
instead of these things, yea, having hung the ponderous millstone(3) from
thy neck. Where then canst thou find a footing henceforth when thou art
submerging thy unhappy soul, imposing on thyself this necessity of continually
sinking downwards? Now the woman who had found the one coin called her
neighbors to share her joy; saying, "Rejoice with me;" but I shall now
invoke all friends, both mine and thine, for the contrary purpose, saying
not "Rejoice with me" but "Mourn with me," and take up the same strain
of mourning, and utter the same cry of distress with me. For the worst
possible loss has befallen me, not that some given number of talents of
gold, or some large quantity of precious stones have dropped out of my
hand, but that he who was more precious than all these things, who was
sailing over this same sea, this great and broad sea with me, has, I know
not how, slipped overboard, and fallen into the very pit of destruction.
3. Now if any should attempt to divert me from mourning,
I shall reply to them in the words of the prophet, saying "Let me alone,
I will weep bitterly; labour not to comfort me."(4) For the mourning with
which I mourn now is not of a kind to subject me to condemnation for excess
in lamentation, but the cause is one for which even Paul, or Peter, had
they been here, would not have been ashamed to weep and mourn, and reject
all kinds of consolation. For those who bewail that death which is common
to all one might reasonably accuse of much feebleness of spirit; but when
in place of a corpse a dead soul lies before us, pierced with innumerable
wounds, and yet even in its death manifesting its former natural comeliness,
and health, and beauty now extinguished, who can be so harsh and unsympathetic
as to utter words of encouragement in place of wailing and lamentation?
For as in the other world the absence of mourning is a mark of divine wisdom,
so in this world the act of mourning is a mark of the same. He who had
already mounted to the sky, who was laughing to scorn the vanity of this
life, who regarded bodily beauty no more than if it had been in forms of
stone, who despised gold as it had been mud, and every kind of luxury as
mire, even he, having been suddenly overwhelmed with the feverish longing
of a preposterous passion, has ruined his health, and manly strength, and
the bloom of his youth, and
93
become a slave of pleasure. Shall we not weep then, I pray you, for
such a man and bewail him, until we have got him back again? And where
do these things concern the human soul? It is not possible indeed to discover
in this world the means of release from the death of the body, and yet
even this does not stay the mourners from lamenting; but only in this world
is it possible to bring to naught the death of the soul. "For in Hades"
we read, "who will confess thee?"(1) Is it not then the height of stupidity
that they who mourn the death of the body should do this so earnestly,
although they know that they will not raise the dead man to life by their
lamentation; but that we should not manifest anything of the kind, and
this when we know that often there is hope of conducting the lost soul
back to its former life? For many both now and in the days of our forefathers,
having been perverted from the right position, and fallen headlong out
of the straight path, have been so completely restored as to eclipse their
former deeds by the latter, and to receive the prize, and be wreathed with
the garland of victory, and be proclaimed among the conquerors, and be
numbered in the company of the saints. For as long as any one stands in
the furnace of pleasures, even if he has countless examples of this kind
before him, the thing seems to him to be impossible; but if he once gets
a short start upon the way out from thence, by continually advancing he
leaves the fiercer part of the fire behind him and will see the parts which
are in front of him, and before his footsteps full of dew and much refreshment;
only let us not despair or grow weary of the return; for he who is so affected,
even if he has acquired boundless power and zeal, has acquired it to no
purpose. For when he has once shut the door of repentance against himself,
and has blocked the entrance into the race-course, how will he be able
while he abides outside to accomplish any good thing, either small or great?
On this account the Evil One uses all kinds of devices in order to plant
in us this thought (of despair); for (if he succeeds) he will no longer
have to sweat and toil in contending with us; how should he, when we are
prostrate and fallen, and unwilling to resist him? For he who has been
able to slip out of this chain, will recover his own strength and will
not cease struggling against the devil to his last gasp, and even if he
had countless other falls, he will get up again, and will smite his enemy;
but he who is in, bondage to the cogitations of despair, and has unstrung
his own strength, how will he be able to prevail, and to resist, having
on the contrary taken to flight?
4. And speak not to me of those who have committed
small sins, but suppose the case of one who is filled full of all wickedness,
and let him practice everything which excludes him from the kingdom, and
let us suppose that this man is not one of those who were unbelievers from
the beginning, but formerly belonged to the believers, and such as were
well pleasing to God, but afterwards has become a fornicator, adulterer,
effeminate, a thief, a drunkard, a sodomite, a reviler, and everything
else of this kind; I will not approve even of this man despairing of himself,
although he may have gone on to extreme old age in the practice of this
great and unspeakable wickedness. For if the wrath of God were a passion,
one might well despair as being unable to quench the flame which he had
kindled by so many evil doings; but since the Divine nature is passionless,
even if He punishes, even if He takes vengeance, he does this not with
wrath, but with tender care, and much loving-kindness; wherefore it behoves
us to be of much good courage, and to trust in the power of repentance.
For even those who have sinned against Him He is not wont to visit with
punishment for His own sake; for no harm can traverse that divine nature;
but He acts with a view to our advantage, and to prevent our perverseness
becoming worse by our making a practice of despising and neglecting Him.
For even as one who places himself outside the light inflicts no loss on
the light, but the greatest upon himself being shut up in darkness; even
so he who has become accustomed to despise that almighty power, does no
injury to the power, but inflicts the greatest possible injury upon himself.
And for this reason God threatens us with punishments, and often inflicts
them, not as avenging Himself, but by way of attracting us to Himself.
For a physician also is not distressed or vexed at the insults of those
who are out of their minds, but yet does and contrives everything for the
purpose of stopping those who do such unseemly acts, not looking to his
own interests but to their profit; and if they manifest some small degree
of self-control and sobriety he rejoices and is glad, and applies his remedies
much more earnestly, not as revenging himself upon them for their former
conduct, but as wishing to increase their advantage, and to bring them
back to a purely sound state of health. Even so God when we fall into the
very extremity of madness, says and does everything, not by way of avenging
Himself on account of our former deeds; but because He wishes to release
us from our disorder; and by means of
94
right reason it is quite possible to be convinced of this.
5. Now if any one should dispute with us concerning
these things we will confirm them out of the divine oracles. For who, I
ask, became more depraved than the king of the Babylonians, who after having
received such great experience of God's power as to make obeisance to His
prophet, and command offerings and incense to be sacrificed to Him was
again carried away to his former pride, and cast bound into the furnace
those who did not honour himself before God. Nevertheless this man who
was so cruel and impious, and rather a beast than a human being, God invited
to repentance, and granted him several opportunities of conversion, first
of all the miracle which took place in the furnace, and after that the
vision which the king saw but which Daniel interpreted, a vision sufficient
to bend even a heart of stone; and in addition to these things after the
exhortation derived from events the prophet also himself advised him, saying
"Therefore, O king, let my counsel please thee, and redeem thy sins by
alms, and thy iniquities by showing mercy to the poor; it may be that long
suffering will be shown to thy offence."(1) What sayest thou O wise and
blessed man? After so great a fall is there again a way of return? and
after so great a disease is health possible? and after so great a madness
is there again a hope of soundness of mind? The king has deprived himself
beforehand of all hope, first of all by having ignored Him who created
him; and conducted him to this honour, although he had many evidences of
His power and forethought to recount which occurred both in his own case
and in the case of his forefathers; but after this again when he had received
distinct tokens of God's wisdom and foreknowledge, and had seen magic,
and astronomy and the theatre of the whole satanic system of jugglery overthrown,
he exhibited deeds yet worse than the former. For things which the wise
magi, the Gazarenes, could not explain, but confessed that they were beyond
human nature, these a captive youth having caused to be solved for him,
so moved him by that miracle that he not only himself believed, but also
became to the whole world a clear herald and teacher of this doctrine.(2)
Wherefore if even before having received such a token it was unpardonable
in him to ignore God, much more so was it after that miracle, and his confession,
and the teaching which was extended to others. For if he had not honestly
believed that He was the only true God he would not have shown such honour
to His servant, or have laid down such laws for others. But yet after making
this kind of confession, he again lapsed into idolatry, and he who once
fell on his face and made obeisance to the servant of God, broke out into
such a pitch of madness, as to cast into the furnace the servants of God
who did not make obeisance to himself. What then? did God visit the apostate,
as he deserved to be visited? No! He supplied him with greater tokens of
His own power, drawing him back again after so great a display of arrogance
to his former condition; and, what is yet more wonderful, that owing to
the abundance of the miracles he might not again disbelieve what was done,
the subject upon which He wrought the sign was none other than the furnace
which the king himself kindled for the children whom he bound and cast
therein. Even to extinguish the flame would have been a wonderful and strange
thing; but the benign Deity in order to inspire him with greater fear,
and increase his dismay, and undo all his hardness of heart, did what was
greater and stranger than this. For, permitting the furnace to be kindled
to as high a pitch as he desired, He then exhibited his own peculiar power,
not by putting down the devices of his enemies, but by frustrating them
when they were set on foot. And, to prevent any one who saw them survive
the flame from supposing that it was a vision, He suffered those who cast
them in to be burned, thus proving that the thing seen was really fire;
for otherwise it would not have devoured naphtha and tow, and fagots and
such a large number of bodies; but nothing is stronger than His command;
but the nature of all existing things obeys Him who brought them into being
out of nothing; which was just what He manifested at that time; for the
flame having received perishable bodies, held aloof from them as if they
had been imperishable, and restored in safety, with the addition of much
lustre, the deposit entrusted to it. For like kings from some royal court,
even so did those children come forth from the furnace, no one having the
patience to look any longer at the king, but all transferring their eyes
from him to the strange spectacle, and neither the diadem nor the purple
robe, nor any other feature of royal pomp, attracted the multitudes of
unbelievers so much as the sight of those faithful ones, who tarried long
in the fire, and then came out of it as men might have done who had undergone
this in a dream. For the most fragile of all our features, I mean the hair,
prevailed more mightily than adamant against the all-devouring flame. And
the fact that when they were cast into the midst of the fire they suffered
no harm was not the only
95
wonder, but the further fact that they were speaking the whole time.
Now all who have witnessed persons burning are aware, that if they keep
their lips fast closed, they can hold out for a short time at least against
the conflagration; but if any one chances to open his mouth, the soul instantly
takes its flight from the body. Nevertheless after such great miracles
had taken place, and all who were present and beheld were amazed, and those
who were absent had been informed of the fact by means of letters, the
king who instructed others remained himself without amendment, and went
back again to his former wickedness. And yet even then God did not punish
him, but was still long-suffering, counselling him both by means of visions
and by His prophet. But when he was not made anywise better by any of these
things, then at last God inflicted punishment upon him, not by way of avenging
himself on account of his former deeds, but as cutting off the occasion
of future evils, and checking the advance of wickedness, and He did not
inflict even this permanently, but after having chastised him for a few
years, He restored him again to his former honour, without having suffered
any loss from his punishment, but on the contrary having gained the greatest
possible good; a firm hold upon faith in God, and repentance on account
of his former misdeeds.(1)
6. For such is the loving-kindness of God; He never
turns his face away from a sincere repentance, but if any one has pushed
on to the very extremity of wickedness, and chooses to return thence towards
the path of virtue, God accepts and welcomes, and does everything so as
to restore him to his former position. And He does what is yet more merciful;
for even should any one not manifest complete repentance, he does not pass
by one which is small and insignificant, but assigns a great reward even
to this; which is evident from what Esaias the prophet says concerning
the people of the Jews, speaking on this wise: "On account of his sin I
put him to pain for a little while, and smote him, and turned my face away
from him, and he was pained, and walked sorrowfully, and then I healed
him, and comforted him."(2) And we might cite as another witness that most
ungodly king, who was given over to sin by the influence of his wife: yet
when he only sorrowed, and put on sackcloth, and condemned his offences,
he so won for himself the mercy of God, as to be released from all the
evils which were impending over him. For God said to Elias "Seest thou
how Ahab is pricked in the heart before my face? I will not bring the evil
upon him in his own days, because he hath wept before me."(3) And after
this again, Manasses, having exceeded all in fury and tyranny, and having
subverted the legal form of worship, and shut up the temple, and caused
the deceit of idolatry to flourish, and having become more ungodly than
all who were before him, when he afterwards repented, was ranked amongst
the friends of God. Now if, looking to the magnitude of his own iniquities,
he had despaired of restoration and repentance, he would have missed all
which he afterwards obtained: but as it was, looking to the boundlessness
of God's tender mercy instead of the enormity of his transgressions, and
having broken in sunder the bonds of the devil, he rose up and contended
with him, and finished the good course.(4) And not only by what was done
to these men, but also by the words of the prophet does God destroy the
counsels of despair, speaking. on this wise: "To-day, if ye will hear His
voice, harden not your hearts, as in the provocation."(5) Now that expression
"to-day," may be uttered at every time of life, even on the verge of old
age, if you desire it: for repentance is judged not by quantity of time,
but by disposition of the soul. For the Ninevites did not need many days
to blot out their sin, but the short space of one day availed to efface
all their iniquity: and the robber also did not take a long time to effect
his entrance into Paradise, but in such a brief moment as one might occupy
in uttering a single word, did he wash off all the sins which he had committed
in his whole life, and received the prize bestowed by the divine approval
even before the Apostles. And we also see the martyrs obtain glorious crowns
for themselves in the course, not of many years, but of a few days, and
often in a single day only.
7. Wherefore we have need of zeal in every direction,
and much preparation of mind: and if we so order our conscience as to hate
our former wickedness, and choose the contrary path with as much energy
as God desires and commands,we shall not have anything less on account
of the short space of time: many at least who were last have far outstripped
those who were first. For to have fallen is not a grievous thing, but to
remain prostrate after talling, and not to get up again; and, playing the
coward and the sluggard, to conceal feebleness of moral purpose under the
reasoning of despair. To whom also the prophet spoke in perplexity saying
"Doth he who falleth not rise
96
up, or he who turneth away not turn back?"(1) But if you inquire of
me for instances of persons who have fallen away after having believed,
all these things have been said with reference to such persons, for he
who has fallen belonged formerly to those who were standing, not to those
who were prostrate; for how should one in that condition fall? But other
things also shall be said, partly by means of parables, partly by plainer
deeds and words. Now that sheep which had got separated from the ninety
and nine,(2) and then was brought back again, represents to us nothing
else than the fall and return of the faithful; for it was a sheep not of
some alien flock, but belonging to the same number as the rest, and was
for merly pastured by the same shepherd, and it strayed on no common straying,
but wandered away to the mountains and in valleys, that is to say some
long journey, far distant from the right path. Did he then suffer it to
stray? By no means, but brought it back neither driving it, nor beating
it, but taking it upon his shoulders. For as the best physicians bring
back those who are far gone in sickness with careful treatment to a state
of health, not only treating them according to the laws of the medical
art, but sometimes also giving them gratification: even so God conducts
to virtue those who are much depraved, not with great severity, but gently
and gradually, and supporting them on every side, so that the separation
may not become greater, nor the error more prolonged. And the same truth
is implied in the parable of the prodigal son as well as in this. For he
also was no stranger, but a son, and a brother of the child who had been
well pleasing to the father, and he plunged into no ordinary vice, but
went to the very extremity, so to say, of evil, he the rich and free and
well-bred son being reduced to a more miserable condition than that of
household slaves, strangers, and hirelings. Nevertheless he returned again
to his original condition, and had his former honour restored to him. But
if he had despaired of his life, and, dejected by what had befallen him,
had remained in the foreign land, he would not have obtained what he did
obtain, but would have been consumed with hunger, and so have undergone
the most pitiable death: but since he repented, and did not despair, he
was restored, even after such great corruption, to the same splendour as
before, and was arrayed in the most beautiful robe, and enjoyed greater
honours than his brother who had not fallen. For "these many years," saith
he "do I serve thee, neither transgressed I thy commandment at any time,
and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends;
but when this thy son is come who hath devoured thy living with harlots,
thou hast killed for him the fatted calf."(3) So great is the power of
repentance.
8. Having then such great examples, let us not continue
in evil, nor despair of reconciliation, but let us say also ourselves "I
will go to my Father," and let us draw nigh to God. For He Himself never
turns away from us, but it is we who put ourselves far off: for "I am a
God" we read "at hand and not a God afar off."(4) And again, when He was
rebuking them by the mouth of this prophet He said "Do not
your sins separate between you and me?"(5) Inasmuch then as this is the
cause which puts us far from God, let us remove this obnoxious barrier,
which prevents any near approach being made.
But now hear how this has actually occurred in real
instances. Amongst the Corinthians some man of mark committed a sin such
as was not named even among the Gentiles. This man was a believer and belonged
to the household of Christ; and some say that he was actually a member
of the priesthood. What then? Did Paul cut him off from the communion of
those who were in the way of salvation. By no means: for he himself it
is who rebukes the Corinthians countless times, backwards and forwards,
because they did not bring the man to a state of repentance: but, desiring
to prove to us that there is no sin which cannot be healed, he said again
concerning the man who had transgressed more grievously than the Gentiles:
"Deliver such an one to Satan for destruction of the flesh that his spirit
may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus Christ."(6) Now this was prior
to repentance: but after he had repented "Sufficient," said he, "for such
an one is this punishment which was inflicted by the many(7) "and he charged
them by a letter to console the man again, and to welcome his repentance,
so that he should not be got the better Of by Satan. Moreover when the
whole Galatian people fell after having believed, and wrought miracles,
and endured many trials for the sake of their faith in Christ he sets them
up again. For that they had done miracles he testified when he said: "He
therefore that supplieth to you the Spirit and worketh miracles among you:"
(8) and that they endured many contests for the sake of the faith, he also
testified when he says:
97
"Have ye suffered so many things in vain if it be indeed in vain."(1)
Nevertheless after making so great an advance they committed sin sufficient
to estrange them from Christ concerning which he declares saying: "Behold,
I Paul tell you, that if ye be circumcised, Christ will profit you nothing:"
and again "ye who would be justified by the law are fallen away from grace:"(2)
and yet even after so great a lapse he welcomes them saying "my little
children of whom I am in travail again until Christ be formed in you(3)"
showing that after extreme perversion it is possible for Christ to be formed
again in us: for He doth not desire the death of a sinner, but rather that
he should be convened and live.
9. Let us then turn to Him, my beloved friend, and
execute the will of God. For He created us and brought us into being, that
He might make us partakers of eternal blessings, that He might offer us
the kingdom of Heaven, not that He might cast us into Hell and deliver
us to the fire; for this was made not for us, but for the devil: but for
us the kingdom has been destined and made ready of old time. And by way
of indicating both these truths He saith to those on the right hand, "Come
ye blessed of my Father inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
of the world:" but to those on the left "Depart from me, ye cursed, into
fire everlasting prepared" (he no longer says "for you" but)"for the devil
and his angels."(4) Thus hell has not been made for us but for him and
his angels: but the kingdom has been prepared for us before the foundation
of the world. Let us not then make ourselves unworthy of entrance into
the bride-chamber: for as long as we are in this world, even if we commit
countless sins it is possible to wash them all away by manifesting repentance
for our offences: but when once we have departed to the other world even
if we display the most earnest repentance it will be of no avail, not even
if we gnash our teeth, beat our breasts, and utter innumerable calls for
succour, no one with the tip of his finger will apply a drop to our burning
bodies, but we shall only hear those words which the rich man heard in
the parable "Between us and you a great gulf has been fixed."(5) Let us
then, I beseech you, recover our senses here and let us recognize our Master
as He ought to be recognized. For only when we are in Hades should we abandon
the hope derived from repentance: for there only is this remedy weak and
unprofitable: but while we are here even if it is applied in old age itself
it exhibits much strength. Wherefore also the devil sets everything in
motion in order to root in us the reasoning which comes of despair: for
he knows that if we repent even a little we shall not do this without some
reward. But just as he who gives a cup of cold water has his recompense
reserved for him, so also the man who has repented of the evils which he
has done, even if he cannot exhibit the repentance which his offences deserve,
will have a commensurate reward. For not a single item of good, however
small it may be, will be overlooked by the righteous judge. For if He makes
such an exact scrutiny of our sins, as to require punishment for both our
words and thoughts, much more will our good deeds, whether they be great
or small, be reckoned to our credit at that day. Wherefore, even if thyself
in a slight degree at least from thy present disorder and excess, even
this will not be impossible: only set thyself to the task at once, and
open the entrance into the place of contest; but as long as thou tarriest
outside this naturally seems difficult and impracticable to thee. For before
making the trial even if things are easy and manageable they are wont to
present an appearance of much difficulty to us: but when we are actually
engaged in the trial, and making the venture the greater part of our distress
is removed, and confidence taking the place of tremor and despair lessens
the fear and increases the facility of operation, and makes our good hopes
stronger. For this reason also the wicked one dragged Judas out of this
world lest he should make a fair beginning, and so return by means of repentance
to the point from which he fell. For although it may seem a strange thing
to say, I will not admit even that sin to be too great for the succour
which is brought to us from repentance. Wherefore I pray and beseech you
to banish all this Satanic mode of thinking from your soul, and to return
to this state of salvation. For if indeed I were commanding you to ascend
to your former altitude all at once, you would naturally complain of there
being much difficulty in doing this: but if all which I now ask you to
do is to get up and return thence in and shrink, and make a retrograde
movement? Have you not seen those who have died in the midst of luxury
and drunkenness, and sport and all the other folly of this life? Were are
they now who used to strut through the market place with much pomp, and
a crowd of attendants? who were clothed in silk and redolent with perfumes,
and kept a table for their
98
musicians, the attentions of flatterers, the loud laughter, the relaxation
of spirit, the enervation of mind, the voluptuous, abandoned, extravagant
manner of life--it has all come to an end. Where now have all these things
taken their flight? What has become of the body which enjoyed so much attention,
and cleanliness. Go thy way to the coffin, behold the dust, the ashes,
the worms, behold the loathsomeness of the place, and groan bitterly. And
would that the penalty were limited to the ashes! but now transfer thy
thought from the coffin and these worms to that undying worm, to the fire
unquenchable, to the gnashing of teeth, to the outer darkness, to affliction
and straitness, to the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, who although
the owner of so much wealth, and clothed in purple could not become the
owner of even a drop of water; and this when he was placed in a condition
of such great necessity. The things of this world are in their nature no-wise
better than dreams For just as those who work in the mines or suffer some
other kind of punishment more severe than this, when they have fallen asleep
owing to their many weary toils and the extreme bitterness of their life,
and in their dreams see themselves living in luxury and prosperity, are
in no wise grateful to their dreams after they have awaked, even so that
rich man having become rich in this present life, as it were in a dream,
after his departure hence was punished with that bitter punishment. Consider
these things, and having contrasted that fire with the conflagration of
desires which now possesses thee, release thyself from the furnace. For
he who has thoroughly quenched this furnace here, will have no experience
of that in the other world: but if a man does not get the better of this
furnace here, the other will lay hold of him more vehemently when he has
departed hence. How long a time dost thou wish the enjoyment of the present
life to be extended? For I do not suppose indeed that more than fifty years
remain to thee so as to reach extreme old age, nor indeed is even this
at all assured to us: for how should they who cannot be confident about
living even to the evening rely upon so many years as these? And not only
is this uncertain, but there is for often when life has been extended for
a long period, the conditions of luxury have not been extended with
it, but have come, and at the same time hastily departed. However,
if pared with the endless ages, and those bitter deed both good and evil
things have an end, and that very speedily: but there, both are coextensive
with immortal ages, and in their quality differ unspeakably from the things
which now are.
10. For when you hear of fire, do not suppose the
fire in that world to be like this: for fire in this world burns up and
makes away with anything which it takes hold of; but that fire is continually
burning those who have once been seized by it, and never ceases: therefore
also is it called unquenchable. For those also who have sinned must put
on immortality, not for honour, but to have a constant supply of material
for that punishment to work upon; and how terrible this is, speech could
never depict, but from the experience of little things it is possible to
form some slight notion of these great ones. For if you should ever be
in a bath which has been heated more than it ought to be, think then, I
pray you, on the fire of hell: or again if you are ever inflamed by some
severe fever transfer your thoughts to that flame, and then you will be
able clearly to discern the difference. For if a bath and a fever so afflict
and distress us, what will our condition be when we have fallen into that
river of fire which winds in front of the terrible judgment-seat. Then
we shall gnash our teeth under the suffering of our labours and intolerable
pains: but there will be no one to succour us: yea we shall groan mightily,
as the flame is applied more severely to us, but we shall see no one save
those who are being punished with us, and great desolation. And how should
any one describe the terrors arising to our souls from the darkness? for
just as that fire has no consuming power so neither has it any power of
giving light: for otherwise there would not be darkness. The dismay produced
in us then by this, and the trembling and the great astonishment can be
sufficiently realized in that day only. For in that world many and various
kinds of torment and torrents of punishment are poured in upon the soul
from every side. And if any one should ask, "and how can the soul bear
up against such a multitude of punishments and continue being chastised
through interminable ages, let him consider what happens in this world,
how many have often borne up against a long and severe disease. And if
they have died, this has happened not because the soul was consumed but
because the body was exhausted, so that had the latter not broken down,
the soul would not have ceased being tormented. When then we have received
an incorruptible and inconsumable body there is nothing to prevent the
punishment being in-
99
definitely extended. For here indeed it is impossible that the two things
should coexist. I mean severity of punishment and permanence and cannot
bear the concurrence of both: but when the imperishable state has supervended,
these terrible things will keep their hold upon us for infinite time with
much force. Let us not then so dispose ourselves now as if the excessive
power of the tortures were destructive together with the soul, in a state
of eternal punishment, and there will not be any end to look to beyond
this. How much luxury then, and how much time will you weigh in the balance
against this punishment and vengeance? Do you propose a period of a hundred
years or twice as long? and what is this compared with the endless ages?
For what the dream of a single day is in the midst of a whole lifetime,
that the enjoyment of things here is as contrasted with the state of things
to come. Is there then any one who, for the sake of seeing a good dream,
would elect to be perpetually punished? Who is so senseless as to have
recourse to this kind of retribution? For I am not yet accusing luxury
nor revealing now the bitterness which lurks in it: for the present is
not the proper time for these remarks, but when ye have been able to escape
it. For now, entangled as you are by this passion, you will suspect me
of talking nonsense, if I were to call pleasure bitter: but when by the
grace of God you have been released from the malady then you will know
its topics for another season, what I will say now is just this: Be it
so, that luxury is luxury, and pleasure, pleasure, and that they have nothing
in them painful or disgraceful, what shall we say to the punishment which
is in store for us? and what shall we do then if we have taken our pleasure
now, as it were in a shadow and a figure, but undergo everlasting torment
there in reality, when we might in a short space of time escape these tortures
already mentioned, and enjoy the good things which ar stored up for us?
For this also is the work of the loving-kindness of God, that our struggles
are not protracted to a great length, but that after struggling for a brief,
and tiny twinkling of an eye (for such is present life compared with the
other) we receive crowns of victory for endless ages. And it will be no
small affliction to the souls of those who are being punished at that time,
to reflect, that when they had it in their power in the few days of this
life to make all good, they neglected their opportunity and surrendered
themselves to everlasting evil. And lest we should suffer this let us rouse
ourselves while it is the acepted time, while it is the day of salvation,(1)
while the power of repentance is great. For not only the evils already
mentioned, but others also far worse than these await us if we are indolent.
These indeed, and some bitterer than these have their place in hell: but
the loss of the good things involves so much pain, so much affliction and
straitness, that even if not other kind of punishment were appointed for
those who sin here, it would of itself be sufficient to vex us more bitterly
than the torments in hell, and to confound our souls.
11. For consider I pray the condition of the other
life, so far as it is possible to consider it; for no words will suffice
for an adequate description: but from the things which ar told us, as if
by means of certain riddles, let us try and get some indistinct vision
of it. "Pain and sorrow and sighing," we read "have fled away."(2) What
then could be more blessed than this life? It is not possible there to
fear poverty and disease: it is not possible to see any one injuring, or
being injured, provoking, or being provoked, or angry, or envious, or burning
with any outrageous lust, or anxious concerning the supply of the necessaries
of life, or bemoaning himself over the loss of some dignity and power:
for all the tempest of passion in us is quelled and brought to nought,
and all will be in a condition of peace, and gladness and joy, all things
serene and tranquil, all will be daylight and brightness, and light, not
this present light, but one excelling this in splendour as much as this
excels the brightness of a lamp. For things are not concealed in that world
by night, or by a gathering of clouds: bodies there are not set on fire
and burned: for there is neither night nor evening there, nor cold nor
heat, nor any other variation of seasons: but the condition is of a different
kind, such as they only will know who have been deemed worthy of it; there
is no old age there, nor any of the evils of old age, but all things relating
to decay are utterly removed, and incorruptible glory reigns in every part.
But greater than all these things in the perpetual enjoyment of intercourse
with Christ in the company of angels, and archangels, and the higher powers.
Behold now the sky, and pass through it in thought to the region beyond
the sky, and consider the transfiguration to take place in the whole creation;
for it will not continue to be such as it is now, but will be far more
brilliant and beautiful,
100
and just as gold glistens more brightly than lead, so will the future
constitution of the universe be better than the present: even as the blessed
Paul saith "Because the creation also itself shall be delivered from the
bondage of corruption."(1) For now indeed, seeing that it partakes of corruption,
it is subject to many things such as bodies of this kind naturally experience:
but then, having divested itself of all these things, we shall see it display
its beauty in an incorruptible form: for inasmuch as it is to receive incorruptible
bodies, it will in future be itself also transfigured into the nobler condition.
Nowhere in that world will there be sedition and strife: for great is the
concord of the band of saints, all being ever in harmony with one another.
It is not possible there to fear the devil, and the plots of demons, or
the threatenings of hell, or death, either that death which now is, or
the other death which is far worse than this, but every terror of this
kind will have been done away. And just as some royal child, who has been
brought up in mean guise, and subject to fear and threats, lest he should
deteriorate by indulgence and become unworthy of his paternal inheritance,
as soon as he has attained the royal dignity, immediately exchanges all
his former raiment for the purple robe, and the diadem and the crowd of
body-guards, and assumes his state with much confidence, having cast out
of his soul thoughts of humility and subjection, and having taken others
in their place; even so will it happen then to all the saints
And to prove that these words are no empty vaunt
let us journey in thought to the mountain where Christ was transfigured:
let us behold him shining as He shone there; and yet even then He did not
display to us all the splendour of the world to come. For that the vision
was accommodated to human eyes, and not an exact manifestation of the reality
is plain from the very words of the Evangelist. For what saith he? "He
did shine as the Sun."(2) But the glory of incorruptible bodies does not
emit the same kind of light as this body which is corruptible, nor is it
of a kind to be tolerable to mortal eyes, but needs incorruptible and immortal
eyes to contemplate it. But at that time on the mountain He disclosed to
them as much as it was possible for them to see without injuring the sight
of the beholders; and even so they could not endure it but fell upon their
faces. Tell me, if any one led thee into some bright place, where all were
sitting arrayed in vestures of gold, and in the midst of the multitude
pointed out one other to thee who alone had garments wrought with precious
stones, and a crown upon his head, and then promised to place thee in the
ranks of this people, wouldst thou not do everything to obtain this promise?
Open then even now in imagination thine eyes, and look on that assembly,
composed not of men such as we are, but of those who are of more value
than gold and previous stones, and the beams of the sun, and all visible
radiance, and not consisting of men only but of beings of much more dignity
than men,--angels, archangels, thrones, dominions, principalities, powers.
For as concerning the king it is not even possible to say what he is like:
so completely do his beauty, his grace, his splendour, his glory, his grandeur
and magnificence elude speech and thought. Shall we then, I ask, deprive
ourselves of such great blessings, in order to avoid suffering for a brief
period? For if we had to endure countless deaths every day, or even hell
itself, for the sake of seeing Christ coming in His glory, and' being enrolled
in the company of the saints, ought we not to undergo all those things?
Hear what the blessed Peter says; "it is good for us to be here."(3) But
if he, when he beheld some dim image of the things to come, immediately
cast away all other things out of his soul on account of the pleasure produced
in it by that vision; what would any one say when the actual reality
of the things is presented, when the palace is thrown open and it is permitted
to gaze upon the King Himself, no longer darkly, or by means of a mirror,(4)
but face to face; no longer by means of faith, but by sight?
12. The majority it is true of those who are not
very sensibly minded propose to be content with escaping hell; but I say
that a far more severe punishment than hell is exclusion from the glory
of the other world, and I think that one who has failed to reach it ought
not to sorrow so much over the miseries of hell, as over his rejection
from heaven, for this alone is more dreadful than all other things in respect
of punishment. But frequently now when we see a king, attended by a large
bodyguard, enter the palace, we count those happy who are near him, and
have a share in his speech and mind, and partake of all the rest of his
glory; and even if we have countless blessings, we have no perception of
any of them, and deem ourselves miserable when we look at the glory of
those who are round about him, although we know that such splendour is
slippery and insecure, both on account of wars, and plots, and envy, and
because apart from these things it is not in itself worthy of any
101
consideration. But where the king of all is concerned, he who holds not a portion of the earth but the whole circuit of it, or rather who comprehends it all in the hollow of his hand, and measures the Heavens with a span, who upholdeth all things by the word of His power,(1) by whom all the nations are counted as nought, and as a drop of spittle ;---in the case of such a king I say shall we no reckon it the most extreme punishment to miss being enrolled in that company which is round about him, but be content if we merely escape hell? and what could be more pitiable than this condition of soul? For this king does not come to judge the earth, drawn by a pair of white mules, nor tiding in a golden chariot, nor arrayed in a purple robe and diadem. How then does He come? Hear the prophets crying aloud and saying as much as it is possible to tell to men: for one saith "God shall come openly, even our God and shall not keep silence: a fire shall be kindled before Him, and a mighty tempest shall be round about Him: He shall call the Heaven from above and the earth that He may judge His people."(2) But Esias depicts the actual punishment impending over us speaking thus: "Behold the day of the Lord cometh, inexorable, with wrath and anger; to lay the whole world desolate, and to destroy sinners out of it. For the stars of Heaven, and Orion, and the whole system of the heaven shall not give their light, and the sun shall be darkened in its going down,(3) and the moon shall not give her light; and I will ordain evils against the whole world, and visit their sins upon the ungodly, and I will destroy the insolence of the lawless, and humble the insolence of the proud, and they who are left shall be more precious than unsmelted gold, and a man shall be more precious than the sapphire stone. For the heaven shall be disturbed(4) and the earth shall be shaken from its foundations by reason of the fury of the wrath of the Lord of Sabaoth, in the day when His wrath shall come upon us."(5) And again "windows" he saith "shall be opened from the Heaven, and the foundations of the earth shall be shaken the earth shall be mightily confounded, the earth shall be bent low, it shall be perplexed with great perplexity, the earth shall stagger grievously like the drunkard and the reveller; the earth shall shake as a hut, it shall fall and not be able to rise up again: for iniquity has waxed mighty therein. And God shall set His hand upon the host of the Heaven in the height in that day, and upon the kingdoms of the earth, and He shall gather together the congregation thereof into a prison, and shall shut them up in a stronghold."(6) And Malachi speaking concordantly with these said" Behold the Lord almighty cometh, and who shall abide the day of His coming or who shall stand when He appeareth? for He cometh like a refiner's fire, and like fullers soap: and He shall sit refining and purifying as it were silver, and as it were gold."(7) And again, "Behold," he saith, "the day of the Lord cometh, burning like an oven, and it shall consume them, and all the aliens, and all who work iniquity shall be stubble, and the day which is coming shall set fire to them saith the Lord almighty; and there shall be left neither root nor branch."(8) And the man greatly beloved saith "I beheld until thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days was seated, and his raiment was white as snow, and the hair of his head was pure as wool: His throne was a flame of fire, and the wheels thereof burning fire: a stream of fire wound its way in front of Him. Thousand thousands ministered unto Him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before Him. The judgment was set and the books were opened."(9) Then after a little space "I beheld," he says, "in a vision of the night and behold" with the clouds of Heaven, one came like the Son of Man, and reached unto the Ancient of Days, and was brought near before Him, and to Him was given rule, and honor, and the kingdom, and all the people, tribes and tongues serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom shall not be destroyed. As for me Daniel, my spirit shuddered within me, and the visions of my head troubled me."(10) Then all the gates of the heavenly vaults are opened, or rather the heaven itself is taken away out of the midst "for the heaven," we read "shall be rolled up like a scroll,"(11) wrapped up in the middle like the skin and covering of some tent so as to be transformed into some better shape. Then all things are full of amazement and horror and trembling: then even the angels themselves are holden by much fear, and not angels only but also archangels and thrones, and dominions, and principalities and authorities. "For the powers" we read "of the heavens shall be shaken," because their fellow-servants are required to give an account of their life in this world.(12) For if when a single city is bring judged before rulers in this world, all men
102
shudder, even those who are outside the danger, when the whole world
is arraigned before such a judge as this who needs no witnesses, or proofs,
but independently of all these things brings forward deeds and words and
thoughts, and exhibits them all as in some picture both to those who have
committed the sins and to those who are ignorant of them, how is it not
natural that every power should be confounded and shake? For if there were
no river of fire winding by, nor any terrible angels standing by the side
of the throne, but men were merely summoned some to be praised and admired,
others to be dismissed with ignominy that they might not see the glory
of God, ("For let the ungodly" we read "be taken away that he may not see
the glory of the Lord"(1))and if this were the only punishment would not
the loss of such blessings sting the souls of those who were deprived of
them more bitterly than all hell itself? For how great an evil this is
cannot possibly be represented now in words; but then we shall know it
clearly in the actual reality. But now I pray add the punishment also to
the scene, and imagine men not only covered with shame, and veiling their
heads, and bending them low, but also being dragged along the road to the
fire, and haled away to the instruments of torture and delivered over to
the cruel powers, and suffering these things just at the time when all
they who have practised what is good, and wrought deeds worthy of eternal
life, are being crowned, and proclaimed conquerors, and presented before
the royal throne.
13. Now these are things which will happen in that
day: but the things which will follow, after these, what language can describe
to us--the pleasure, the profit, the joy of being in the company of Christ?
For when the soul has returned to the proper condition of nobility, and
is able henceforth with much boldness to behold its Master it is impossible
to say what great pleasure it derives therefrom, what great gain, rejoicing
not only in the good things actually in hand, but in the persuasion that
these things will never come to an end. All that gladness then cannot be
described in words, nor grasped by the understanding: but in a dim kind
of way, as one indicates great things by means of small ones, I will endeavour
to make it manifest. For let us scrutinize those who enjoy the good things
of the world in this present life, I mean wealth and power, and glory,
how, exulting with delight, they reckon themselves as no longer being upon
the earth, and this although the things which they are enjoying are acknowledged
not to be really good, and do not abide with them, but take to flight more
quickly than a dream: and even if they should even last for a little time,
their favour is displayed within the limits of this present life, and cannot
accompany us further. Now if these things uplift those who possess them
to such a pitch of joy, what do you suppose is the condition of those souls
which are invited to enjoy the countess blessings in Heaven which are always
securely fixed and stable? And not only this, but also in their quantity
and quality they excel present things to such an extent as never entered
even the heart of man.(2) For at the present time like an infant in the
womb, even so do we dwell in this world confined in a narrow space, and
unable to behold the splendour and the freedom of the world to come: but
when the time of travail arrives and the present life is delivered at the
day of judgment of all men whom it has contained, those who have been miscarried
go from darkness into darkness, and from affliction into more grievous
affliction: but those which are perfectly formed and have preserved the
marks of the royal image will be presented to the king, and will take upon
themselves that service which angels and archangels minister to the God
of all. I pray thee then, O friend, do not finally efface these marks,
but speedily restore them, and stamp them more perfectly on thy soul. For
corporeal beauty indeed God has confined within the limits of nature, but
grace of soul is released from the constraint and bondage arising from
that cause inasmuch as it is far superior to any bodily symmetry: and it
depends entirely upon ourselves and the grace of God. For our Master, being
merciful has in this special way honoured our race, that He has entrusted
to the necessity of nature the inferior things which contribute nothing
much to our advantage, and in their issue are matters of indifference,
but of the things which are really noble He has caused us to be ourselves
the artificers. For if He had placed corporeal beauty also under our control
we should have been subjected to excessive anxiety, and should have wasted
all our time upon things which are of no profit, and should have grievously
neglected our soul.
For if, even as it is, when we have not this power
in ourselves, we make violent efforts, and give ourselves up to shadow
painting, and because we cannot in reality produce bodily beauty, cunningly
devise imitations by means of paints, and dyes, and dressing of hair, and
arrangement of garments, and pencilling of eyebrows, and many other contrivances:
what leisure should we have set apart for the soul
103
and serious matters, if we had it in our power to transfigure the body
into a really symmetrical shape? For probably, if this were our business,
we should not have any other, but should spend all our time upon it: decking
the bondmaid with countess decorations, but letting her who is the mistress
of this bond-maid lie perpetually in a state of deformity and neglect.
For this reason God, having delivered us from this vain occupation, implanted
in us the power of working upon the nobler element, and he who cannot turn
an ugly body into a comely on, can raise the soul, even when it has been
reduced to the extremity of ugliness, to the very acme of grace, and make
it so amiable and desirable that not only are good men brought to long
after it but even He who is the sovereign and God of all, even as the Psalmist
also when discoursing concerning this beauty, said "And the king shall
have desire of thy beauty." (1) Seest thou not also that in the houses
of prostitutes the women who are ugly and shameless would hardly be accepted
by prize-fighters, and runaway slaves, and gladiators: but should any comely,
well-born and modest woman, owing to some mischance, have been reduced
to this necessity, no man, even amongst those who are very illustrious
and great, would be ashamed of marriage with her? Now if there is so much
pity amongst men, and so much disdain of glory as to release from that
bondage the women who have often been disgraced in the brothel, and to
place them in the position of wives, much more is this the case with God,
and those souls which, owing to the usurpation of the devil, have then
from their original noble condition into the harlotry of this present life.
And you will find the prophets filled with examples of this kind, when
they address Jerusalem; for she fell into fornication, and a novel form
of it, even as Ezekiel says: "To all harlots wages are given, but thou
hast given wages to thy lovers, and there hath been perversion in thee
beyond all other women,"(2) and again another saith "Thou didst sit waiting
for them like a deserted bird."(3) This one then who hath committed fornication
in this fashion God calls back again. For the captivity which took place
was not so much by way of vengeance as for the purpose of conversion and
amendment since if God had wished to punish them out-fight He would not
again have brought them back to their home. He would not have established
their city and their temple in greater splendour than before: "For the
final glory of this house" He said "shall exceed the former."(4) Now if
God did not exclude from repentance her who who had many times committed
fornication, much more will He embrace My soul, which has now fallen for
the first time. For certainly there is no lover of corporeal beauty, even
if he be very frantic, who is so inflamed will the love of his mistress
as God longs after the salvation of our souls; and this we may perceive
both from the divine Scriptures. See at least, both in the introduction
of Jeremiah, and many other places of the prophets, when He is despised
and contemned, how He again hastens forward and pursues the friendship
of those who turn away from him; which also He Himself made dear in the
Gospels saying, "O Jerusalem! Jerusalem! thou that killest the prophets
and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered
thy children together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings,
and ye would not?"(5) And Paul writing to the Corinthians said "that God
was in Christ reconciling the word unto Himself, not reckoning their trespasses
unto them, and having committed unto us the word of reconciliation. We
are ambassadors therefore on behalf of Christ, as though God were entreating
by us; we beseech you on behalf of Christ be ye reconciled to God."(6)
Consider that this has now been said to us. For it is not merely want of
faith, but also an unclean life which is sufficient to work this abominate
enmity. "For the carnal mind" we read "is enmity against God."(7) Let us
then break down the barrier, and hew it in pieces, and destroy it, that
we may enjoy the blessed reconciliation, that we may become again the fondly
beloved of God.
14. I know that thou art now admiring the grace
of Hermione, and thou judgest that there is nothing in the world to be
compared to her comeliness; but if you choose, O friend, you shall yourself
exceed her in comeliness and gracefulness, as much as golden statues surpass
those which are made of clay. For if beauty, when occurs in the body, so
fascinates and excites the minds of most men, when the soul is refulgent
with it what can match beauty and grace of this kind? For the groundwork
of this corporeal beauty is nothing else but phlegm, and blood, and humor,
and bile, and the fluid of masticated food. For by these things both eyes
and cheeks, and all the other features, are supplied with moisture;
and if they do not receive that moisture, daily skin becoming unduly withered,
and the eyes
104
sunken, the whole grace of the countenance forthwith vanishes; so that if you consider what is stored up inside those beautiful eyes, and that straight nose, and the mouth and the cheeks, you will affirm the well-shaped body to be nothing else than a whited sepulchre; the parts within are full of so much uncleanness. Morever when you see a rag with any of these things on it, such as phlegm, or spittle you cannot bear to touch it with even the tips of your fingers, nay you cannot even endure looking at it; and yet are you in a flutter of excitement about the storehouses and depositories of these things? But thy beauty was not of this kind, but excelled it as heaven is superior to earth; or rather it was much better and more brilliant than this For no one has anywhere seen a soul by itself, stripped of the body; but yet even so I will endeavour to present to you the beauty of this soul from another source. I mean from the case of the greater powers Hear at least how the beauty of these struck the man greatly beloved; for wishing to set forth their beauty and being unable to find a body of the same character, he had recourse to metallic substances, and he was not satisfied even with these, but took the brilliancy of lightning for his illustration.(1) Now if those powers, even when they did not disclose their essential nature pure and bare, but only in a very dim and shadowy way, nevertheless shone so brightly, what must naturally be their appearance, when set free froth every veil? Now we ought to form some such image of the beauty of the soul. "For they shall be," we read "equal unto the angels."(2) Now in the case of bodies the fighter and finer kinds, and those which have retreated to the path which tend towards the incorporeal, are very much better and more wonderful than the others The sky at least is more beautiful than the earth, and fire than water, and the stars than precious stones; and we admire the rainbow far more than violets and roses, and all other flowers which are upon the earth. And in short if it were possible with the bodily eyes to behold the beauty of the soul you would laugh to scorn these corporeal illustrations, so feebly have they presented to us the gracefulness of the soul. Let us not then neglect such a possession, nor such great happiness, and especially when the approach to that kind of beauty becomes easy to us by our hopes of the things to come. "For our light affliction?" we read, "which is but for the moment, worketh for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."(3) Now if the blessed Paul called such afflictions as thou wottest of light and easy, because he did not look at the things which are seen, much more tolerable is it merely to cease from wantonness. For we are not calling thee to those dangers which he underwent, nor to those deaths which he incurred daily,(4) the constant beatings and scourgings, the bonds, the enmity of the whole world, the hatred of his own people, the frequent vigils, the long journies, the shipwrecks, the attacks of robbers, the plots of his own kinsfolk, the distresses on account of his friends, the hunger, the cold, the nakedness, the burning, the despondency on account both of those who belonged to him, and those who did not belong to him. None of these things do we now demand of thee; all that we ask for is that you would release yourself from your accursed bondage, and return to your former freedom, having considered both the punishment arising from your wantonness, and the honor belonging to your former manner of life. For that unbelievers should be but languidly affected by the thought of the resurrection and never be in fear of this kind, is nothing wonderful; but that we who are more firmly persuaded concerning the things of the other world than those of the present, should spend our life in this miserable and deplorable way and be nowise affected by the memory of those things, but sink into a state of extreme insensibility--this is irrational in the highest degree. For when we who believe do the deeds of unbelievers, or rather are in a more miserable plight than they (for there are some among them who have been eminent for the virtue of their life), what consolation, what excuse will be left for us? And many merchants indeed who have incurred shipwreck have not given way, but have pursued the same journey, and this when the loss which has befallen them was not owing to their own carelessness, but to the force of the winds; and shall we who have reason to be confident concerning the end, and know certainly that if we do not wish it, neither shipwreck nor accident of any kind will bring us damage, not lay hold of the work again, and carry on our business as we did aforetime, but lie in idleness and keep our hands to ourselves? And would that we kept them merely to ourselves and did not use them against ourselves which is a token of stark madness. For if any pugilist, leaving his antagonist were to turn his hands against his own head, and deal blows to his own face, should
105
we not, I ask, rank him among madmen? For the devil has upset us and
cast us down; therefore we ought to get up, and not to be dragged down
again and precipitate ourselves, and add blows dealt by ourselves to the
blows dealt by him. For the blessed David also had a fall like that which
has now happened to you; and not this only but another also which followed
it. I mean that of murder. What then? did he remain prostrate? Did he not
immediately rise up again with energy and place himself in portion to fight
the enemy? In fact he wrestled with him so bravely, that even after his
death he was the protector of his offspring. For when Solomon had perpetrated
great inquity, and had deserved countless deaths, God said that He would
leave him the kingdom intact, thus speaking "I will surely rend the kingdom
out of thine hand and will give it to thy servant. Nevertheless I will
not do this in thy days." Wherefore? "For David thy father's sake, I will
take it out of the hand of thy son."(1) And again when Hezekiah was about
to run the greatest possible risk, although he was a righteous man, God
said that He would succour him for the sake of this saint. "For I will
cast my shield" He saith, "over this city to save it for my own sake, and
for my servant: David's sake."(2) So great is the force of repentance.
But if he had determined with himself, as you do now, that henceforth it
was impossible to propitiate God, and if he had said within himself: "God
has honoured me with great honour, and has given me a place among among
the prophets, and has entrusted me with the government of my countrymen,
and rescued me out of countless perils, how then, when have offended
against Him after such great benefits, and have perpetrated the worst crimes,
shall I be able to recover his favour?" If he had thought thus, not only
would he not have done the things which he afterwards his former evils.
15. For not only the bodily wounds work death,
if they are neglected, but also those of the soul; and yet we have arrived
at such a pitch of folly as to take the greatest care of the former, and
to overlook the latter; and although in the case of the body it naturally
often happens that many wounds are incurable, yet we do not abandon hope,
but even when we hear the physicians constantly declaring, that it is not
possible to get rid of this suffering by medicines, we still persist
in exhorting them to devise at least some slight alleviation; but in the
case of souls, where there is no incurable malady; for it is not subject
to the necessity of nature; here, as if the infirmities were strange we
are negligent and despairing; and where the nature of the disorder might
naturally plunge us into despair, we take as much pains as if there were
great hope of restoration to health; but where there is no occasion to
renounce hope, we desist from efforts, and become as heedless as if matters
were desperate; so much more account do we take of the body than of the
soul. And this is the reason why we are not able to save even the body.
For he who neglects the leading element, and manifests all his zeal about
inferior matters destroys and loses both; whereas he who observes the right
order, and preserves and cherishes the more commanding element, even if
he neglects the secondary element yet preserves it by means of saving the
primary one. Which also Christ signified to us when He said, "Fear not
them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather
fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in Hell."(3)
Well, do I convince you, that one ought never to
despair of the disorders of the soul as incurable? or must I again set
other arguments in motion? For even if thou shouldst despair of thyself
ten thousand times, I will never despair of thee, and I will never myself
be guilty of that for which I reproach others; and yet it is not the same
thing for a man to renounce hope of himself, as for another to renounce
hope of him. For he who has this suspicion concerning another may readily
obtain pardon; but he who has it of himself will not. Why so pray? Because
the one has no controlling power over the zeal and repentance of the other,
but over his own zeal and repentance a man has sole authority. Nevertheless
even so I will not despair of you; though you should any number of times
be heard the prophet vehemently declaring, and plainly threatening; "yet
three days and Nineveh shall be overthrown,"(4) even then did not lose
heart, but, although they had no confidence that they should be able to
move the utterance was not accompanied by any qualification, but was a
simple declaration), even then they manifested repentance saying: "Who
knoweth whether God will repent and be entreated, and turn from the fierceness
of His wrath, and that we perish not? And God
106
say their works that they turned from their evil ways, and God repented
of the evil which He said He would do unto them and He did it not."(1)
Now if barbarian, and unreasoning men could perceive so much, much more
ought we to do this who have been trained in the divine doctrines and have
seen such a crowd of ways; but far as is the Heaven from the earth, so
far are my thoughts from your mind, and my counsels from your counsels."(2)
Now if we admit to our favour household slaves when they have often offended
against us, on their promising to become better, and place them again in
their former portion, and sometimes even grant them greater freedom of
speech than before; much more does God act thus. For if God had made us
in order to punish us, you day until the present time, what is there which
can ever cause you to doubt? Have we provoked Him severely, so as no other
man ever future. For to sin may be a merely human failing, but to continue
in the same sin ceases to be human, and becomes altogether devilish. For
observe how God by the mouth of His prophet Names this more than the other.
"For," we read, "I said unto her after she had done all these deeds of
fornication, return unto me, and yet she returned not."(3) And again: from
another quarter, when wishing to show the great longing which He has for
our salvation, having heard how the people promised, after many transgressions,
to tread the right way He said: "Who will grant unto them to have such
an heart as to fear me, and to keep my commandments all their days, that
it may be well with them and with their children forever?"(4) And Moses
when reasoning with them said, "And now, O Israel, what doth the Lord thy
God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, and to walk in all His
ways, and to love Him?"(5) He then who is so anxious to be loved by us,
and does everything for this end, and did not spare even His only begotten
Son on account of His love towards us, and who counts it a desirable thing
if at any time we become reconciled to Himself, how shall He not welcome
and love us when we repent? Hear at least what He says by the mouth of
the prophet: "Declare thou first thy iniquities that thou mayest be justified."(6)
Now this He demands from us in order to intensify our love towards Him.
For when one who loves, after enduring many insults at the hands of those
who are beloved, even then does not extinguish his fondness for them, the
only reason why he takes pains to make those insults public, is that by
displaying the strength of his affection he may induce them to feel a larger
and warmer love. Now if the confession of sins brings so much consolation,
much more does the endeavour to wash them away by means of our deeds For
if this was not the case, but those who had vehemence in evil things, will
also in turn exhibit the same in good things, being conscious and wiped
them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss, but she since
the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. Mine head with oil
thou didst not anoint; but she hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore
I say unto thee: her sins which are many are forgiven; for she loved much;
but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And He said unto
her, thy sins are forgiven."(7)
16. For this reason also the devil,
knowing that they who have committed great evils, when they have begun
to repent, do this with much zeal, inasmuch as they are conscious of their
offences, fears and trembles lest they should make a beginning of the work;
for after they have made it they are no longer capable of being checked,
and, kindling like fire under the influence of repentance, they render
their souls purer than pure gold, being impelled by their conscience, and
the memory of their former sins, as by some strong gale, towards the haven
of virtue. And this is the point in
107
which they have an advantage over those who have never fallen, that
they exercise more vehement energy; if only, as I said, they can lay hold
of the beginning. For the task which is hard and difficult of accomplishment
is to be able to set foot on the entrance, and to reach the vestibule of
repentance, and to repulse and overthrow the enemy there when he is fiercely
raging and assaulting us. But after this, he will not display so much fury
when he has once been worsted, and has fallen where he was strong. and
we shall receive greater energy, and shall run this good race with much
ease. Let us then in future set about our return, let we have been appointed
to find our home as citizens. For to despair of ourselves not only has
this evil that it shuts the gates of that city against us, and that it
drives us into greater indolence and contempt, but also that it plunges
us into Satanic recklessness For the only cause why the devil became such
as he is was that he first of all despaired, and afterwards from despair
sank into recklessness For the soul, when once it has abandoned its own
salvation, will no longer perceive that it is plunging downwards, choosing
to do and say everything which is adverse to its own salvation. And just
as madmen, when once they have fallen out of a sound condition, are neither
afraid nor ashamed of anything, but fearlessly dare all manner of things,
even if they have to fall into fire, or deep water, or down a precipice;
so they who have been seized by the frenzy of despair are hence forward
unmanageable, rushing into vice in every direction, and if death does not
come to put a stop to this madness, and Vehemence, they do themselves infinite
mischief. Therefore I entreat you, before you are deeply steeped in this
drunkenness, recover your senses and rouse yourself up, and shake off this
Satanic fit, doing it gently and gradually if it be not possible to effect
it all at once. For to me indeed the easier course seems to be to wrench
yourself once for all out of all the cords which hold you down, and transfer
yourself to the school of repentance. But if this seems to you a difficult
thing, that you should be willing to enter on the path which leads to better
things, simply enter upon it, and lay hold on which once was yours, let
us see you once again standing on the pinnacle of virtue, and in
the same condition of perseverance as before. Spare those who are made
to stumble on thy account, those who ate falling, who are becoming more
indolent, who are despairing of the way of virtue. For dejection now holds
possession of the band of brethren, while pleasure and cheerfulness prevail
in the councils of the unbelieving, and of those young men who are disposed
to indolence. But if thou return again to thy former strictness of life
the result will be reversed, and all our shame will be transferred to them,
while we shall enjoy much confidence, seeing thee again crowned and proclaimed
victor with more splendour than before. For such victories bring greater
renown and pleasure. For you will not only receive the reward of your own
achievements, but also of the exhortation and consolation of others, being
exhibited as a striking model, if ever any one should fall into the same
condition, to encourage him to get up and recover himself. Do not neglect
such an opportunity of gain, nor drag our souls down into Hades with sorrow,
but let us breathe freely again, and shake off the cloud of despondency
which oppresses us on thy account. For now, passing by the consideration
of our own troubles, we mourn over thy calamities, but if thou art willing
to come to thy senses, and see clearly, and to join the angelic host, you
will release us from this sorrow, and will take away the greater part of
sins. For that it is possible for those who have come back again after
repentance to shine with much lustre, and oftentimes more than those who
have never fallen at all, I have demonstrated from the divine writings.
Thus at least both the publicans and the harlots inherit the kingdom of
Heaven, thus many of the last are placed before the first.
17. But I will tell thee also of events which have
happened in our own time, and of which thou mayest thyself have been witness
You know probably that young Phoenician, the son of Urbanus, who was untimely
left an orphan, but possessed of much money, and many slaves and lands.
This man, having in the first place bidden complete farewell to his studies
in the schools, and having laid aside the gay clothing which he formerly
wore, and all his worldly grandeur, suddenly arraying himself in a shabby
cloak, and retreating to the solitude of the mountains, exhibited a high
degree of Christian philosophy not merely in proportion to the sacred mysteries,
he made still greater advances in virtue. And all were rejoicing, and a
mere youth, should have suddenly trodden all the pomps of this life under
foot, and have ascended to the true height. Now which he
108
was in this condition, and an object of admiration, certain corrupt
men, who according to the law of kindred had the oversight of him dragged
him back again into the former sea of worldliness. And so, having flung
aside all his habits, he again descended from the mountains into the midst
of the forum, and used to go all round the city, riding on horseback, and
accompanied by a large retinue; and he was no longer willing to live even
soberly; for being inflamed by much luxury, he was constrained to fall
into foolish love intrigues, and there was no one of those conversant with
him, who did not despair of his salvation; he was encompassed by such a
swarm of flatterers, besides the snares of orphanhood, youth, and great
wealth. And persons who readily find fault with everything, accused those
who originally conducted him to this way of life,(1) saying that he had
both missed his spiritual aims, and would no longer be of any use in the
management of his own affairs, having prematurely abandoned the labours
of study, and having been consequently unable to derive any benefit therefrom.
Now while these things were of chase, and had thoroughly learned by experience
that those who are armed with hope in God ought not to despair at all of
such characters, kept a continual watch upon him, and if ever they saw
him appear in the market place they approached and saluted him. And at
first he spoke to them from horseback, askance, as they followed by his
side; so great was the shamelessness which had at first got possession
of him. But they, being merciful and loving men, were not ashamed at all
of this treatment, but continually looked to one thing only, how they might
rescue the lamb from the wolves; which in fact they actually accomplished
by means of their perseverance. For afterwards, as if he had been converted
by some sudden stroke, and were put to shame by their great assiduity if
ever he saw them in the distance approaching, he would instantly dismount,
and bending low would listen silently in that attitude to all which fell
from their lips, and in time he displayed even greater reverence and respect
towards them. And then, by the grace of God having gradually rescued him
out of all those entanglements, they handed him over again to his former
state of seclusion and devout contemplation. And now he became so illustrious,
that his former life seemed to be nothing in comparison with that which
he lived after his fall. For being well aware by experience of the snare,
and having expended all his wealth upon the needy, and released himself
from all care of that kind, he cut off every pretext for an attack from
those who wished to make designs upon him; and now treading the path which
leads to heaven, he has already arrived at the very goal of virtue.
This man indeed fell and rose again while he was
still young; but another man, after enduring great toils during his sojourn
in the deserts, with only a single companion, and leading an angelic life,
and being now on the way to old age, afforded I know not how a little loophole
to the evil one, through some Satanic condition of mind, and carelessness;
and although he had never seen a woman since he transferred himself to
the monastic life, he fell into a passionate desire for intercourse with
women. And first of all he besought his companion to supply him with meat
and wine, and threatened, if he did not receive it, that he would go down
into the market get some handle and pretext for returning into the city.
The other being perplexed at these things, and fearing, that if he hindered
this he might drive him into some great evil, suffered him to have his
fill of this craving. But when his companion perceived that this was a
stale device, he openly threw off shame, and unmasked his pretence, and
said that he must positively himself go down to the city, and as the other
had not power to prevent him, he desisted at last from his efforts, and
following him at a distance, watched to see what the meaning of this return
could possibly be. And having seen him enter a brothel, and knowing that
he had intercourse with a harlot there, he waited until he had satiated
that foul desire, and then, when he came out, he received him with uplifted
hands, and having embraced and fervently kissed him, without uttering any
rebuke on account of what had happened he only besought him, seeing that
he had satiated his desire, to return again to his dwelling in the wilderness.
And the other, of compunction for the deed which he had in another hut,
and, having dosed the doors of the dwelling, to supply him with bread and
And when he had said this, and persuaded him, he shut himself up, and was
there continually, with fastings and prayers and tears, wiping off from
his soul the defilement of his sin. And not long after when a drought had
109
settled on the neighbouring region, and all in that country were lamenting
over it, a certain man was commanded by a vision to depart, and exhort
this recluse to pray, and put an end to the drought. And when he had departed,
taking companions with him, they found the man, who formerly dwelt with
him, there alone; and on enquiring concerning the other they were informed
that he was dead. But they, believing that they were deceived, betook themselves
again to prayer, and again by means of the same vision heard the same things
which they had heard before. And then, standing round the man who reply
had deceived them, they besought him to show the other to them; for they
declared that he was not dead but living. When he heard this, and perceived
that their compact was exposed, he brought them to that holy man; and they
having broken through the wall (for he had even blocked up the entrance)
and having all of them entered, prostrating themselves at his feet, and
informing him of what had happened, besought him to succour them against
the famine. But he at first resisted, saying that he was far from such
confidence as that; for he ever had his sin before his eyes, as if it had
only just taken place; but when they related all which had happened to
them they then induced him to pray; and having prayed he put an end to
the drought. And what happened to that young man who was at first a disciple
of John the son of Zebedee, but afterwards for a long time became a robber
chief, and then again,having been captured by the holy hands of the blessed
Apostle returned from the robber dens and lairs to his former virtue, thou
art not ignorant, but knowest it all as accurately as I do: and I have
often heard thee admiring the great condescension of the saint, and how
he first of all kissed the blood-stained hand of the young man, embracing
him, and so brought him back to his former condition.(1)
18. Moreover also the blessed Paul not only welcomes
Onesimus the unprofitable runaway thief, because he was converted, but
also asks his master to treat him who had repented, on equal terms of honour
with his teacher, thus saying: "I beseech thee for my son Onesimus, whom
I have begotten in my bonds, who was aforetime unprofitable to thee, but
now is profitable to thee and to me, whom I have sent back to thee; thou
therefore receive him, that is my very heart, whom I would fain have kept
with me, that in thy behalf he might minister unto me in the bonds of the
Gospel; but without thy mind I would do nothing that thy goodness should
not be as of necessity, but of free will. For perhaps he was therefore
pared from thee for a season that thou shouldest have him back for ever;
no longer as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved, specially
unto me; but how much rather to thee both in the flesh and in the Lord?
If then thou holdest me as a partner, receive him as myself."(2) And the
same apostle, in writing to the Corinthians, said, "Lest when I come I
should mourn over many of those who have sinned beforehand and have not
repented;"(3) and again, "as I have said beforehand, so do I again declare
beforehand, that if I come again I will not spare."(3) Seest thou who they
are whom he mourns, and whom he does not spare? Not those who have sinned,
but those who have not repented, and not simply those who have not repented,
but those who have been called once and again to this work, and would not
be persuaded. For the expression "I have said beforehand and do now say
beforehand, as if I were present the second time, and being absent I write,"
implies exactly that which we are afraid may take place now in our case.
For although Paul is not present who then threatened the Corinthians,
yet Christ is present, who was then speaking through his mouth; and if
we continue obdurate, He will not spare us, but will smite us with a mighty
blow, both in this world and the next. "Let us then anticipate His countenance
by our confessor"(4) let us pour out our hearts before Him. For "thou hast
sinned," we read, "do not add thereto any more, and the first instance."(6)
Let us not then tarry for the accuser, but let us seize his place beforehand,
and so let us make our judge more merciful by means of our candour. Now
I know indeed that you confess your sins, and call yourself miserable above
measure; but this is not the only thing I wish, but I long For as long
as you make this confession unfollow it. For no one will be able to do
anything with zeal and the proper method, unless he has first of all persuaded
himself that he does it to advantage. For even the sower, was not to gain
any good from his labor? So
110
then he also who sows words, and tears, and confession, unless he does
this with a good hope, will not be able to desist from sinning, being still
held down by the evil of despair; but just as that husbandman who despairs
of any crop of fruit will not in future hinder any of those things which
damage the seeds, so also he who sows his confession with tears, but does
not expect any advantage for this, will not be able to overthrow those
things which spoil repentance. And what does spoil repentance is being
again entangled in the same evils. "For there is one" we read, "who builds,
and one who pulls down, what have they gained more than toil? He who is
dipped in water because of contact with a dead body, and then touches it
again, what has he gained by his washing?"(1) Even so if a man fasts because
of his sins, and goes his way again, and doeth the same things, who will
hearken to his prayer? And again we read "if a man goes back from righteousness
to sin the Lord will prepare him for the sword,"(2) and, "as a dog when
he has returned to his vomit, and become odious, so is a fool who by his
wickedness has returned to his sin."(3)
19. Do not then merely set forth thy sins being
thy own accuser, but as one who ought to be justified by the method of
repentance; for thus thou wilt be able to put thy soul, which makes its
confession, to shame, so that it falls no more into the same sins. For
to accuse ourselves vehemently and call ourselves sinners is common, so
to say, to unbelievers also. Many at least of those who belong to the stage,
both men and women, who habitually practise the greatest shamelessness,
call themselves miserable, but not with the proper aim. Wherefore I would
not even call this confession; for the publication of their sins is not
accompanied with compunction of soul, nor with bitter tears, nor with conversion
of life, but in fact some of them make it in quest of a reputation for
the hearers for candor of speech. For offences do not seem so grievous
when some other person announces them as when the perpetrator himself reports
them. And they who under the influence of strong despair have lapsed into
a state of insensibility, and treat the opinion of their fellowmen with
contempt proclaim their own evil deeds with much effrontery, as if they
were the doings of others. But I do not wish thee to be any of these, nor
to be brought out of despair to confession, but with a good expectation,
after cutting away the whole root of despair, to manifest zeal in the contrary
direction. And what is the root and mother of this despair? It is indolence;
or rather one would not call it the root only, but also the nurse and mother.
For as in the case of wool decay breeds moths, and is in turn increased
by them; so here also indolence breeds despair, and is itself nourished
in turn by despair; and thus supplying each other with this accursed exchange,
they acquire no small additional power. If any one then cuts one of these
off, and hews it in pieces, he will easily be able to get the better of
the remaining one. For on the one hand he who is not indolent will never
fall into despair, and on the other he who is supported by good hopes,
and does not despair of himself, will not be able to fall into indolence.
Pray then, wrench this pair asunder, and break the yoke in pieces, by which
I mean a variable and yet depressing habit of thought; for that which holds
these two things together is not uniform, but manifold in shame and character.
And what is this? It happens that one who has repented has done many great
and good deeds, but meanwhile he has committed some sin equivalent to those
good deeds, and this especially is sufficient to plunge him into despair,
as if the buildings which had been set up were all pulled down, and all
the labor which he had bestowed upon them had been vain and come to naught.
But this must be taken into account, and such reasoning must be repelled,
because, if we do not store up in good time a measure of good deeds equivalent
to the sins which are committed after them, nothing can hinder us from
sinking grievously and completely. But as it is, (right action(4)) like
some stout breastplate does not suffer the sharp and bitter dart to accomplish
its work, but even if it is itself cut through, it averts much danger from
the body. For he who departs to the other world with many deeds both good
and bad, will have some alleviation in respect of the punishment and the
torment there; but if a man is destitute of these good works, and takes
only the evil with him, it is impossible to say what great sufferings he
will undergo, when he is conducted to everlasting punishment. For a balance
will be struck there between the evil deeds and those which are not such;
and should the latter weigh down the scale they will to no small extent
have saved the doer of them, and the injury arising from the doing of evil
deeds is not so strong as to drag the man down from the foremost place;
but if the evil deeds exceed, they carry him off into hell fire, because
the number of his good actions is not so great as to be able to make a
stand against this violent impulse. And these things are not merely sug-
111
gested by our own reasoning, but declared also by the divine oracles; for He Himself saith, "He shall reward every man according to his works."(1) And not only in hell, but also in the kingdom one will find many differences; for He saith "in my Fathers house are many mansions;"(2) and, "there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon."(3) And what wonder, if in dealing with such great matters he has spoken with such precision, seeing that He declares there is a difference in that world even between one star and another? Knowing then all these things let us never desist from doing good deeds, nor grow weary, nor, if we should be unable to reach the rank of the sun or of the moon, let us despise that of the stars. For if only we display thus much virtue at least, we shall be able to have a place in Heaven. And though we may not have become gold, or precious stone yet if we only occupy the rank of silver we shall abide in the foundation; only let us not fall back again into that material which the fire readily devours, nor, when we are unable to accomplish great things, desist also from small ones, for this is the part of extreme folly, which I trust we may not experience. For just as material wealth increases if the lovers of it do not despise even the smallest gains, so is it also with the spiritual. For it is a strange thing that the judge should not overlook the reward of even a cup of cold water, but that we, if our achievements are not altogether great, should neglect the performance of little things. For he who does not despise the lesser things, will exercise much zeal concerning the greatest; but he who overlooks the former will also abstain from the latter; and to prevent this taking place Christ has defined great rewards even for these small things. For what is easier than to visit the sick? Yet even this He requites with a great recompense. Lay hold then on eternal life, delight in the Lord, and supplicate Him; take up again the wealth to slip past thee. For if thou shouldst continue provoking God by thy deeds, thou wilt destroy thyself; but if before much damage has been done, and all thy husbandry has been overwhelmed with a flood, thou wilt dam up the channels of wickedness, thou wilt be able to recover again what has been spoiled and to add to it not a lithe further produce: Having considered all these things, shake off the dust, get up from the ground, and thou wilt be formidable to the adversary; for he himself indeed has overthrown thee, as if thou wouldst never rise again; but if he sees thee again lifting up thy hands against him, he will receive such an unexpected blow that he will be less forward in trying to upset thee again, and thou thyself wilt be more secure against receiving any wound of that kind in future. For if the calamities of others are sufficient to instruct us, much more those which we have ourselves undergone. And this is what I expect speedily to see in the case of thy own dear self, and that by the grace of God thou art again become more radiant than before, and displaying such great virtue, as even to be a protector of others in the world above. Only do not despair do not fall back; for I will not cease repeating this in every form of speech, and wherever I see you, as well as by the lips of others; and if you listen to this you will no longer need other remedies.
LETTER II.
1. If it were possible to express tears and groans by means of writing I would have filled the letter, which I now send to you, with them. Now I weep not because you are anxious concerning your patrimony, but because you have blotted out your name from the list of the brethren, because you have trampled upon the covenant which you had made with Christ. This is the reason why I shudder, this is the cause of my distress. On this account do I fear and tremble, knowing that the rejection of this covenant will bring great condemnation upon those who have enlisted for this noble warfare, and owing to indolence have deserted their proper rank. And that the punishment for such is heavier than for others is manifest for this reason. For no one would indite a private individual for shunning military service; but when once a man has become a soldier, if he be caught deserting the ranks, he runs a risk of suffering the most his remaining in a fallen condition; neither is it a grievous thing for the warrior to be wounded, but to despair after the blow has been struck, and to neglect the wound. No merchant, having once suffered shipwreck, and lost his freight, desists from sailing, but again crosses the sea and the billows, and the broad ocean, and recovers his former wealth. We see athletes also who after many falls have gained the wreath of victory; and often, before gained the wreath of now, a soldier who has once ran away has turned out a champion, and prevailed over the enemy. Many also of those who have denied
112
Christ owing to the pressure of torture, have fought again, and departed
at last with the crown of martyrdom upon their brows. But if each of these
had despaired after the first blow, he would not have reaped the subsequent
benefits. Even so now, beloved Theodore, because the enemy has shaken thee
a little from thy position, do not thou give thyself an additional thrust
into the pit, but stand up bravely, and return speedily to the place from
which thou hast departed, and deem not this blow, lasting but for a little
while, any reproach. For if you saw a soldier returning wounded from war
you would not reproach him; for it is a reproach to cast away one's arms,
and to hold aloof from the enemy; but as long as a man stands fighting,
even if he be wounded and retreat for a short time, no one is so unfeeling
or inexperienced in matters of war, as to find any fault with him. Exemption
from wounds is the lot of non-combatants; but those who advance with much
spirit against the enemy may sometimes be wounded and fail; which is exactly
what has now occurred in your case; for suddenly, while you attempted to
destroy the serpent you were bitten. But take courage, you need a little
vigilance, and then not a trace of this wound will be left; or rather by
the grace of God thou wilt crush the head of the Evil One himself; nor
let it trouble thee that thou art soon impeded, even at the outset. For
the eye, the keen eye of the Evil One perceived the excellence of thy soul,
and guessed from many tokens that a brave adversary would wax strong against
him; for he expected that one who had promptly attacked him with such great
vehemence would easily overcome him, if he persevered. Therefore he was
diligent, and watchful, and mightily stirred up against thee, or rather
against his own head, if thou wilt bravely stand thy ground. For who did
not marvel at thy quick, sincere, and fervent change to good? For delicacy
of food was disregarded, and costliness of raiment was despised, all manner
of parade was put down, and all the zeal for the wisdom of this world was
suddenly transferred to the divine oracles; whole days were spent in reading,
and whole nights in prayer; no mention was made of thy family dignity,
nor any thought taken of thy wealth; but to rasp the knees and hasten to
the feet of the brethren thou didst recognize as something nobler than
high birth. These things irritated the Evil One, these things stirred him
up to more vehement strife; but sleeping on the bare ground and the rest
of the discipline he overthrew you, even then there was no need to despair;
nevertheless one would have said that the damage was great if defeat had
taken place after many toils, and labour, and victories; but inasmuch as
he upset you as soon as you had stripped for the contest with him, all
that he accomplished was to render you more eager to do battle with him.
For that fell pirate attacked thee just as thou wast sailing out of the
harbor, not when thou hadst returned from thy trading voyage. bringing
a full cargo. And as when one has attempted to stay a fierce lion, and
has only grazed his skin, he has done him no injury but only stirred him
up the more against himself, and rendered him more confident and difficult
to capture afterwards: even so the common enemy of all has attempted to
strike a deep blow, but has missed it, and consequently made his antagonist
more vigilant and wary for the future.
2. For human nature is a slippery thing, quick to
be cheated, but quick also to recover from deceit and as it speedily falls,
so also does it readily rise. For even that blessed man, I mean David the
chosen king and prophet after he had accomplished many good deeds, betrayed
himself to be a man, for once he fell in love with a strange woman, nor
did he stop there but he committed adultery on account of his passion,
and he committed murder on account of his adultery; but he did not try
to inflict a third blow upon himself because he had already received two
such heavy ones, but immediately hastened to the physician, and applied
the remedies, fasting, tears, lamentation, constant prayer, frequent confession
of the sin; and so by these means he propitiated God, insomuch that he
was restored to his former position, insomuch that after adultery and murder
the memory of the father was able to shield the idolatry of the son. For
the son of this David Solomon by name, was caught by the same snare as
his father, and out of complaisance to women fell away from the God of
his fathers.(1) Thou seest how great an evil it is not to master pleasure,
not to upset the ruling principle in nature, and for a man to be the slave
of women. This same Solomon then, who was formerly righteous and wise but
who ran a risk of being deprived of all the kingdom on account of his sin,
God permitted to keep the sixth part of the government on account of the
renown of his father.(2)
Now if thy zeal had been concerned with worldly
eloquence, and then thou hadst given it up in despair, I should have reminded
thee of the law courts and the judgment seat and the victories achieved
there and the former
113
boldness of thy speech, and should have exhorted thee to return to your
labours in that behalf: but inasmuch as our race is for heavenly things,
and we take no account of the things which are on each, I put thee in remembrance
of another court of justice, and of that fearful and tremendous seat of
judgment; "for we must all be made manifest before the judgment seat of
Christ."(1) "And He will then sit as judge who is now disregarded by thee.
What shall we say then, let me ask at that time? or what defence shall
we make, if we continue to disregard Him? What shall we say then? Shall
we plead the anxieties of business? Nay He has anticipated this by saying,
"What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own
soul?"(2) Or that we have been deceived by others? But it did not help
Adam in his defence to screen himself behind his wife, and say "the woman
whom thou gavest me, she deceived me;"(3) even as the serpent was no excuse
for the woman. Terrible, O beloved Theodore, is that tribunal, one which
needs no accusers and waits for no witnesses; for "all things are naked
and laid open to Him"(4) who judges us, and we must submit to give an account
not of deeds only but also of thoughts; for that judge is quick to discern
the thoughts and intents of the heart.(5) But perhaps you will allege weakness
of nature as the excuse, and inability to bear the yoke. And what kind
of defence is this, that you have not strength to bear the easy yoke, that
you are unable to carry the light burden? Is recovery from fatigue a grievous
and oppressive thing? For it is to this that Christ calls us, saying,"
Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest; take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in
heart; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(6) For what can be lighter
I ask, than to be released from anxieties, and business, and fears, and
labors, and to stand outside the rough billows of life, and dwell in a
tranquil haven?
3. Which of all things in the world seems to you
most desirable and enviable? No doubt you will say government, and wealth,
and public reputation. And yet what is more wretched than these things
when they are compared with the liberty of Christians. For the ruler is
subjected to the wrath of the populace and to the irrational impulses of
the multitude, and to the fear of higher rulers, and to anxieties on behalf
of those who are ruled, and the ruler of yesterday becomes a private citizen
to-day; for this present life in no wise differs from a stage, but just
as there, one man fills the position of a king, a second of a general,
and a third of a soldier, but when evening has come on the king is no king,
the ruler no ruler, and the general no general, even so also in that day
each man will receive his due reward not according to the outward part
which he has played but according to his works. Well ! is glory a precious
thing which perishes like the power of grass? or wealth, the possessors
of which are pronounced unhappy? "For woe" we read, "to the rich;"(7) and
again, "Woe unto them who trust in their strength and boast themselves
in the multitude of their riches !"(8) But the Christian never becomes
a private person after being a ruler, or a poor man after being rich, or
without honour after being held in honour; but he abides rich even when
he is poor, and is exited when he strives to humble himself; and from the
rule which he exercises no human being can depose him, but only one of
those rulers who are under the power of this world's potentate of darkness.
"Marriage is right," you say; I also assent to this.
For "marriage," we read, "is honourable and the bed undefiled; but fornicators
and adulterers God will judge;"(9) but it is no longer possible for thee
to observe the right conditions of marriage. For if he who has been attached
to a heavenly bridegroom deserts him, and joins himself to a wife the act
is adultery, even if you call it marriage ten thousand times over; or rather
it is worse than adultery in proportion as God is greater than man. Let
no one deceive thee saying: "God hath not forbidden to marry;" I know this
as well as you; He has not forbidden to marry, but He has forbidden to
commit adultery, may you be preserved from ever engaging thyself in marriage
! And why dost thou marvel if marriage is judged as if it were adultery,
when God is disregarded? Slaughter has brought about righteousness, and
mercy has been a cause of condemnation more than slaughter; because the
latter has been according to the mind of God but the former has been forbidden.
It was reckoned to Phinees for righteousness that he pierced to death the
woman who committed fornication, together with the fornicator;(10) but
Samuel, that saint of God although he wept and mourned and entreated for
whole nights, could not rescue Saul from the condemnation which God issued
against him, because he saved, contrary to the design of God the king of
the allen tribes whom he ought to have slain.(11) If then mercy has been
a cause of condemnation more than
114
slaughter because God was disobeyed, what wonder is it if marriage condemns
more than adultery when it involves the rejection of Christ? For, as I
said at the beginning, if you were a private person no one would indict
you for shunning to serve as a soldier; but now thou art no longer thy
own master, being engaged in the service of so great a king. For if the
wife hath not power over her own body, but the husband,(1) much more
they who live in Christ must be unable to have authority over their
body. He who is now despised, the same will then be our judge; think ever
on Him and the river of fire: "For a river of fire" we read, "winds before
His face;"(2) for it is impossible for one who has been delivered over
by Him to the fire to expect any end of his punishment. But the unseemly
pleasures of this life no-wise differ from shadows and dreams; for before
the deed of sin is completed, the conditions of pleasure are extinguished;
and the punishments for these have no limit. And the sweetness lasts for
a little while but the pain is everlasting.
Tell me, what is there stable in this world? Wealth
which often does not last even to the evening? Or glory? Hear what a certain
righteous man says: "My life is swifter than a runner."(3) For as they
dash away before they stand still, even so does this glory take to flight
before it has fairly reached us. Nothing is more precious than the soul;
and even they who have gone to the extremity of folly have not been ignorant
of this; for "there is no equivalent of the soul" is the saying of a heathen
poet.(4) I know that thou hast become much weaker for the struggle with
the Evil One; I know that thou art standing in the very midst of the flame
of pleasures; but if thou wilt say to the enemy "We do not serve thy pleasures,
and we do not bow down to the root of all thy evils; if thou wilt bend
thine eye upward, the Saviour will even now shake out the fire, and will
burn up those who have flung thee into it, and will send to thee in the
midst of the furnace a cloud, and dew, and a rustling breeze, so that the
fire may not lay hold of thy thought or thy conscience. Only do not consume
thyself with fire. For the arms and engines of besiegers have often been
unable to destroy the fortification of cities, but the treachery of one
or two of the citizens dwelling inside has betrayed them to the enemy without
any trouble on his part. And now if none of thy thoughts within betray
thee, should the Evil One bring countless engines against thee from without
he will bring them in vain.
4. Thou hast by the grace of God many and great men who sympathize
with thy trouble, who encourage you to the fight, who tremble for thy soul,--Valerius
the holy man of God, Florentius who is in every respect his brother, Porphyrius
who is wise with the wisdom of Christ, and many others. These are daily
mourning, and praying for you without ceasing; and they would have obtained
what they asked for, long ago, if only thou hadst been willing to withdraw
thyself a little space out of the hands of the enemy. Now then is it not
strange that, whilst others do not even now despair of thy salvation, but
are continually praying that they may have their member restored to them,
thou thyself, having once fallen, art unwilling to get up again, and remainest
prostrate, all but crying aloud to the enemy: "Slay me, smite me, spare
not?" "Does he who falls not rise up again ?"(5) speaks the divine oracle.
But thou art striving against this and contradicting it; for if one who
has fallen despairs it is as much as to say that he who falls does not
rise up again I entreat thee do not so great a wrong to thyself; do not
pour upon us such a flood of sorrow. I do not say at the present time,
when thou hast not yet completed thy twentieth year, but even if, after
achieving many things, and spending thy whole life in Christ thou hadst,
in extreme old age, experienced this attack, even then it would not have
been right to despair, but to call to mind the robber who was justified
on the cross, the labourers who wrought about the eleventh hour, and received
the wages of the whole day. But as it is not well that those who have fallen
near the very extremity of life should abandon hope, if they be sober minded,
so on the other hand it is not safe to feed upon this hope, and say, "Here
for a while, I will enjoy the sweets of life, but afterwards, when I have
worked for a short time, I shall receive the wages of the whole working
time. For I recollect hearing you often say, when many were exhorting you
to frequent the schools;(6) "But what if I bring my life to a bad end in
a short space of time, how shall I depart to Him who has said ' Delay not
to turn to the Lord, nor put off day after day?' "(7) Recover this thought,
and stand in fear of the thief; for by this name Christ calls our departure
hence, because it comes upon us unawares. Consider the anxieties of life
which befall us, both those which are personal to ourselves, and which
are common to us with others, the fear (of rulers, the envy of citizens,
the danger which
115
often hangs over us imperilling even life itself, the labours, the distresses,
the servile flatteries, such as are unbecoming even to slaves if they be
earnest minded mere the fruit of our labours coming to an end in this world,
a fact which is the most distressing of all. It has been the lot indeed
of many to miss the enjoyment of the things for which they have laboured,
and after having consumed the prime of their manhood in labours and perils,
just when they hoped that they should receive their reward they have departed
taking nothing with them. For if, after undergoing many danger, and completing
many campaigns, one will scarcely look upon an earthly king with confidence,
how will any one be able to behold the heavenly king, if he has fired and
fought for another all his time.
5. Would you have me speak of the domestic cares
of wife, and children and slaves? It is an evil thing to wed a very poor
wife, or a very rich one; for the former is injurious to the husbands means,
the latter to his authority and independence. It is a grievous thing to
have children, still more grievous not to have any; for in the latter case
marriage has been to no purpose, in the former a bitter bondage has to
be undergone. If a child is sick, it is the occasion of no small fear;
if he dies an untimely death, there is inconsolable grief; and at every
stage of growth there are various anxieties on their account, and many
fears and toils. And what is one to say to the rascalities of domestic
slaves? Is this then life Theodore, when one's soul is distracted in so
many directions, when a man has to serve so many, to live for so many,
and never for himself? Now amongst us, O friend, none of these things happen,
I appeal to yourself as a witness. For during that short time when you
were willing to lift your head above the waves of this world, you know
what great cheerfulness and gladness you enjoyed. For there is no man free,
save only he who fives for Christ. He stands superior to all troubles,
and if he does not choose to injure himself no one else will be able to
do this, but he is impregnable; he is not stung by the loss of wealth;
for he has learned that we "brought nothing into this world, neither can
we carry anything out;"(1) he is not caught by the longings of ambition
or glory; for he has learned that our citizenship is in heaven;(2) no one
annoys him by abuse, or provokes him by blows; there is only one calamity
for a Christian which is, disobedience to God; but all the other things,
such as loss of property, exile, peril of life, he does not even reckon
to be a grievance at all. And that which all dread, departure hence to
the other world,--this is to him sweeter than life itself. For as when
one has climbed to the top of a cliff and gazes on the sea and those who
are sailing upon it, he sees some being washed by the waves, others running
upon hidden rocks, some hurrying in one direction, others being driven
in another like prisoners, by the force of the gale, many actually in the
water, some of them using their hands only in the place of a boat and a
rudder, and many drifting along upon a single plank, or some fragment of
the vessel, others floating dead, a scene of manifold and various disaster;
even so he who is engaged in the service of Christ drawing himself out
of the turmoil and stormy billows of life takes his seat upon secure and
lofty ground. For what position can be loftier or more secure than that
in which a man has only one anxiety, "How he ought to please God ? "(3)
Hast thou seen the shipwrecks, Theodore, of those who sail upon this sea?
Wherefore, I beseech thee, avoid the deep water, avoid the stormy billows,
and seize some lofty spot where it is not possible to be captured. There
is a resurrection, there is a judgment, there is a terrible tribunal which
awaits us when we have gone out of this world; "we must all stand before
the judgment-seat of Christ."(4) It is not in vain that we are threatened
with hell fire, it is not without purpose that such great blessings have
been prepared for us. The things of this life are a shadow, and more naught
even than a shadow, being full of many fears, and many dangers, and extreme
bondage. Do not then deprive thyself both of that world, and of this, when
you may gain both, if you please. Now that they who live in Christ will
gain the things of this world Paul teaches us when he says: "But I spare
you;"(5) and again "But this I say for your profit."(6) Seest thou that
even here he who cares for the things of the Lord is superior to the man
who has married? It is not possible for one who has departed to the other
world to repent; no athlete, when he has quitted the lists, and the spectators
have dispersed, can contend again.
Be always thinking of these things, and break in
pieces the sharp sword of the Evil One, by means of which he destroys many.
And this is despair, which cuts off from hope those who have been overthrown.
This is the strong weapon of the enemy, and the only way in which he holds
down those who have been made captives is by binding them with this chain,
which, if we choose, we shall speedily be able to break by the grace of
God. I know that I have exceeded the due measure of a
116
letter, but forgive me; for I am not willingly in this condition, but have been constrained by my love and sorrow, owing to which I forced myself to write this letter also,(1) although many would have prevented me. "Cease labouring in vain and sowing upon rock" many have been saying to me. But I hearkened to none of them. For there is hope I said to myself that, God willing, my letter will accomplish something; but if that which we deprecate should take place, we shall at least have the advantage of escaping self reproach for keeping silence, and we shall not be worse than sailors on the sea, who, when they behold men of their own craft drifting on a plank, because their ship has been broken to pieces by the winds and waves, take down their sails, and cast anchor, and get into a boat and try to rescue the men, although strangers, known to them only in consequence of their calamity. But if the others were unwilling to be rescued no one would accuse those of their destruction who attempted to save them. This is what we offer; but we trust that by the grace of God you also will do your part, and we shall again see you occupying an eminent place in the flock of Christ. In answer to the prayers of the saints may we speedily receive thee back, dear friend, sound in the true health. If thou hast any regard for us, and hast not utterly cast us out of thy memory please vouchsafe a reply to our letter; for in so doing thou wilt give us much pleasure.
LETTER TO A YOUNG WIDOW.
1. That you have sustained a severe blow, and that
the weapon directed from above has been planted in a vital part all will
readily admit, and none even of the most rigid moralists will deny it;
but since they who are stricken with sorrow ought not to spend their whole
time in mourning and tears, but to make good provision also for the healing
of their wounds, lest, if they be neglected their tears should aggravate
the wound, and the fire of their sorrow become inflamed, it is a good thing
to listen to words of consolation, and restraining for a brief season at
least the fountain of thy tears to surrender thyself to those who endeavour
to console thee. On this account I abstained from troubling you when your
sorrow was at its height, and the thunderbolt had only just fallen upon
you; but having waited an interval and permitted you to take your fill
of mourning, now that you are able to look out a little through the mist,
and to open, your ears to those who attempt to comfort you, I also would
second the words of your handmaids by some contributions of my own. For
whilst the tempest is still severe, and a full gale of sorrow is blowing,
he who exhorts another to desist from grief would only provoke him to increased
lamentations and having incurred his hatred would add fuel to the flame
by such speeches besides being regarded himself as an unkind and foolish
person. But when the troubled water has begun to subside, and God has allayed
the fury of the waves, then we may freely spread the sails of our discourse.
For in a moderate storm skill may perhaps play its part but when the onslaught
of the wind is irresistible experience is of no avail. For these reasons
I have hitherto held my peace, and even now have only just ventured to
break silence because I have heard from thy uncle that one may begin to
take courage, as some of your more esteemed handmaids are now venturing
to discourse at length upon these matters, women also outside your own
household, who are your kinsfolk, or are otherwise qualified for this office.
Now if you allow them to talk to you I have the greatest hope and confidence
that you will not disdain my words but do your best to give them a calm
and quiet heating. Under any circumstances indeed the female sex is the
more apt to be sensitive to suffering; but when in addition there is youth,
and untimely widowhood, and inexperience in business, and a great crowd
of cares, while the whole life previously has been nurtured in the midst
of luxury, and cheerfulness and wealth, the evil is increased many fold,
and if she who is subjected to it does not obtain help from on high even
an accidental thought will be able to unhinge her. Now I hold this to be
the foremost and greatest evidence of God's care concerning thee; for that
thou hast not been overwhelmed by grief, nor driven out of thy natural
condition of mind when such great troubles suddenly concurred to afflict
thee was not due to any human assistance but to the almighty hand the understanding
of which there is no measure, the wisdom which is past finding out, the
"Father of mercies and the God of all comfort."(1) "For He Himself" it
is said "hath smitten us, and He will heal us; He will strike, and He will
dress the wound and make us whole."(2)
For as long as that blessed husband of thine was
with thee, thou didst enjoy honour, and care and zealous attention; in
fact you enjoyed such as you might expect to enjoy from a husband; but
since God took him to Himself He has supplied his place to thee. And this
is not my saying but that of the blessed prophet David for he says "He
will take up the fatherless and the widow,"(3) and elsewhere
122
he calls Him "father of the fatherless and judge of the widow;"(1) thus
in many passages thou wilt see that He earnestly considereth the cause
of this class of mankind.
2. But lest the continual repetition of this name
of widow should upset thy soul, and disconcert thy reason, having been
inflicted on thee in the very flower of thy age, I wish first of all to
discourse on this point, and to prove to you that this name of widow is
not a title of calamity but of honour, aye the greatest honour. For do
not quote the erroneous opinion of the world as a testimony, but the admonition
of the blessed Paul, or rather of Christ. For in his utterances Christ
was speaking through him as he himself said "If ye seek a proof of Christ
who is speaking in me?"(2) What then does he say? "Let not a widow be enrolled
under threescore years of age" and again "but the younger widows refuse"(3)
intending by both these sayings to indicate to us the importance of the
matter. And when he is making regulations about bishops he nowhere prescribes
a standard of age, but in this case he is very particular on the point,
and, pray, why so? not because widowhood is greater than priesthood, but
because widows have greater labour to undergo than priests, being encompassed
on many sides by a variety of business public and private. For as an unfortified
city lies exposed to all who wish to plunder it, so a young woman living
in widowhood has many who form designs upon her on every side not only
those who aim at getting her money but also those who are bent upon corrupting
her modesty. And besides these we shall find that she is subjected to other
conditions also likely to occasion her fall. For the contempt of servants
their negligence of business, the loss of that respect which was formerly
paid, the sight of contemporaries in prosperity, and often the hankering
after luxury, induce women to engage in a second marriage. Some there are
who do not choose to unite themselves to men by the law of marriage, but
do so secretly and clandestinely. And they act thus in order to enjoy the
praise of widowhood; thus it is a state which seems to be not reproached,
but admired and deemed worthy of honour among men, not only amongst us
who believe, but even amongst unbelievers also. For once when I was still
a young man I know that the sophist who taught me(4) (and he exceeded all
men in his reverence for the gods) expressed admiration for my mother before
a large company. For enquiring, as was his wont, of those who sat beside
him who I was, and some one having said that I was the son of a woman who
was a widow, he asked of me the age of my mother and the duration of her
widowhood, and when I told him that she was forty years of age of which
twenty had elapsed since she lost my father he was astonished and uttered
a loud exclamation, and turning to those present "Heavens!" cried he "what
women there are amongst the Christians." So great is the admiration and
praise enjoyed by widowhood not only amongst ourselves, but also a amongst
those who are outside the Church. And being aware of all this the
blessed Paul said "Let not a widow be enrolled under threescore
years of age." And even after this great qualification of age he does not
permit her to be ranked in this sacred society but mentions some additional
requisites "well reported of for good works, if she have brought up children
if she have lodged strangers if she have washed the saints feet if she
have relieved the afflicted, if she have diligently followed every good
work."(5) Heavens! what testing and scrutiny! how much virtue does he demand
from the widow, and how precisely does he define it! which he would not
have done, had he not intended to entrust to her a position of honour and
dignity. And "the younger widows" he says "refuse; and then he adds the
reason; "for when they have waxed wanton against Christ they will marry."(6)
By this expression he gives us to understand that they who have lost their
husbands are wedded to Christ in their stead. Observe how he asserts this
by way of indicating the mild and easy nature of this union; I refer to
the passage "when they have waxed wanton against Christ they will marry,"
as if He were some gentle husband who did not exercise authority over them,
but suffered them to live in freedom. Neither did Paul confine his
discourse on the subject to these remarks, but also in another place again
he has manifested great anxiety about it where he says "Now she who liveth
in pleasure is dead while she liveth; but she who is a widow indeed and
desolate hath set her hope in God, and continueth in prayers and
supplications day and night."(7) And writing to the Corinthians he says
"But she is more blessed if she abide thus.(8) You see what great praise
is bestowed upon widowhood, and this in the New Testament, when the beauty
of virginity also was clearly brought to light. Nevertheless even the lustre
of this state could not obscure the glories of widowhood, which shines
on brightly all the same, keeping its own value. When then we make mention
of widowhood from time to time, do not be cast down, nor consider the matter
a reproach; for if this
123
be a matter of reproach, far more so is virginity. But this is
not the case; no! God forbid. For inasmuch as we all admire and welcome
women who live continently whilst their husbands are yet alive must we
not be delighted with those who manifest the same good feeling concerning
their husbands when they have departed this, life, and praise them accordingly?
As I was saying then, as long as you lived with the blessed Therasius you
enjoyed honour and consideration such as is natural for a wife to receive
from a husband; but now in his place you have God who is the Lord of all,
who hath of old been thy protector and will be so now still
more and with yet greater earnestness; and as I have already said He hath
displayed no slight token of his providential care by having preserved
thee whole and unharmed in the midst of such a furnace of anxiety and sorrow,
and not suffering thee to undergo anything undesirable. Now if He has not
permitted any shipwreck to take place in the midst of so much rough water,
much more will He preserve thy soul in calm weather and lighten the burden
of thy widowhood, and the consequences of it which seem to be so terrible.
3. Now if it is not the name of widow which distresses
you, but the loss of such a husband I grant you that all the world over
amongst men engaged in secular affairs there have been few like him,
so affectionate, so gentle, so humble, so sincere, so understanding, so
devout. And certainly if he had altogether perished, and utterly ceased
to be, it would be right to be distressed, and sorrowful; but if he has
only sailed into the tranquil haven, and taken his journey to Him who is
really his king, one ought not to mourn but to rejoice on these accounts.
For this death is not death, but only a kind of emigration and translation
from the worse to the better, from earth to heaven, from men to angels,
and archangels, and Him who is the Lord of angels and archangels. For here
on earth whilst he was serving the emperor there were dangers to
be expected and many plots arising from men who bore ill-will, for in proportion
as his reputation increased did the designs also of enemies
abound; but now that he has departed to the other world none of these things
can be suspected. Wherefore in proportion as you grieve that God has taken
away one who was so good and worthy you ought to rejoice that he has departed
in much safety and honour, and being released from the trouble which besets
this present season of danger, is in great peace and tranquillity. For
is it not out of place to acknowledge that heaven is far better than earth,
and yet to mourn those who are translated from this world to the other?
For if that blessed husband of thine had been one of those who lived a
shameful life contrary to what God approved it would have been right to
bewail and lament for him not only when he had departed, but whilst he
was still living; but inasmuch as he was one of those who are the friends
of God we should take pleasure in him not only whilst living, but
also when he has been laid to rest. And that we ought to act thus thou
hast surely heard the words of the blessed Paul "to depart and to be with
Christ which is far better."(1) But perhaps you long to hear your husband's
words, and enjoy the affection which you bestowed upon him, and you yearn
for his society, and the glory which you had on his account, and the splendour,
and honour, and security, and all these things being gone distress and
darken your life. Well! the affection which you be stowed on him
you can keep now just as you formerly did.
For such is the power of love, it embraces, and
unites, and fastens together not only those who are present, and near,
and visible but also those who are far distant; and neither length of time,
nor separation in space, nor anything else of that kind can break up and
sunder in pieces the affection of the soul. But if you wish to behold him
face to face (for this I know is what you specially long for) keep thy
bed in his honour sacred from the touch of any other man, and do thy best
to manifest a life like his, and then assuredly thou shalt depart one day
to join the same company with him, not to dwell with him for five years
as thou didst here, nor for 20, or 100, nor for a thousand or twice that
number but for infinite and endless ages. For it is not any physical relation,
but a correspondence in the way of living which qualifies for the inheritance
of those regions of rest. For if it was identity of moral constitution
which brought Lazarus although a stranger to Abraham into the same heavenly
bosom with him, and qualifies many from east and west to sit down with
him, the place of rest will receive thee also with the good Therasius,
if thou wilt exhibit the same manner of life as his, and then thou shalt
receive him back again no longer in that corporeal beauty which he had
when he departed, but in lustre of another kind, and splendour outshining
the rays of the sun. For this body, even if it reaches a very high standard
of beauty is nevertheless perishable; but the bodies of those who have
been well pleasing to God, will be invested with such glory as these eyes
cannot even look upon. And God has furnished us with certain tokens, and
obscure indications of these things both in the Old and in the New
124
Dispensation. For in the former the face of Moses shone with such glory
as to be intolerable to the eyes of the Israelites, and in the New the
face of Christ shone far more brilliantly than his. For tell me if any
one had promised to make your husband king of all the earth, and then had
commanded you to withdraw for twenty years on his account, and had promised
after that to restore him to you with the diadem and the purple, and to
place you again in the same rank with him, would you not have meekly endured
the separation with due self-control? Would you not have been well pleased
with the gift, and deemed it a thing worth praying for? Well then submit
to this now, not for the sake of a kingdom on earth, but of a kingdom in
Heaven; not to receive him back clad in a vesture of gold but robed in
immortality and glory such as is fitting for them to have who dwell in
Heaven. And if you find the trial very unbearable owing to its long duration,
it may be that he will visit you by means of visions and converse with
you as he was wont to do, and show you the face for which you yearn: let
this be thy consolation taking the place of letters, though indeed it is
far more definite than letters. For in the latter case there are but lines
traced with the pen to look upon, but in the former you see the form of
his visage, and his gentle smile, his figure and his movements, you hear
his speech and recognize the voice which you loved so well.
4. But since you mourn also over the loss of security
which you formerly enjoyed on his account, and perhaps also for the sake
of those great hopes of distinction which were dawning (for I used to hear
that he would speedily arrive at the dignity of praefect, and this, I fancy,
it is which more especially upsets and distresses thy soul) consider I
pray the case of those who have been in a higher official position than
his, and yet have brought their life to a very pitiable end. Let me. recall
them to your memory: you probably know Theodore of Sicily by reputation:(1)
for he was one of the most distinguished men; he surpassed all in bodily
stature and beauty as well as in the confidence which he enjoyed with the
Emperor, and he had more power than any member of the royal household,
but he did not bear this prosperity meekly, and having entered into
a plot against the Emperor he was taken prisoner and miserably beheaded;
and his wife who was not a whit inferior to thy noble self in education
and birth and all other respects was suddenly stripped of all her possessions,
deprived even of her freedom also, and enrolled amongst the household slaves,
and compelled to lead a life more pitiable than any bondmaid, having
this advantage only over the rest that owing to the extreme severity of
her calamity she moved to tears all who beheld her. And it is said also
that Artemisia who was the wife of a man of high reputation, since he also
aimed at usurping the throne, was reduced to this same condition of poverty,
and also to blindness; for the depth of her despondency, and the abundance
of her tears destroyed her sight; and now she has need of persons to lead
her by the hand, and to conduct her to the doors of others that she may
obtain the necessary supply of food.(2) And I might mention many other
families which, have been brought down in this way did I not know thee
to be too pious and prudent in disposition to wish to find consolation
for thy own calamity out of the misfortunes of others. And the only reason
why I mentioned those instances to which I referred just now was that you
might learn that human things are nothingness but that truly as the
prophet says "all the glory of man is as the flower of grass."(3) For in
proportion to men's elevation and splendour is the ruin wrought for them,
not only in the case of those who are under rule, but also of the rulers
themselves. For it would be impossible to find any private family which
has been immersed in such great calamities as the ills in which the imperial
house has been steeped. For untimely loss of parents, and of husbands,
and violent forms of death, more outrageous and painful than those which
occur in tragedies, especially beset this kind of government.
Now passing over ancient times, of those who have
reigned in our own generation, nine in all, only two have ended their life
by a natural death; and of the others one was slain by a usurper,(4) one
in battle,(5) one by a conspiracy of his household guards,(6) one by the
very man who elected him, and invested him with the purple,(7) and of their
wives some, as it is reported, perished by poison, others died of mere
sorrow; while of those who still survive one, who has an orphan son, is
trembling with alarm lest any of those who are in power dreading what may
happen in the future should destroy him;(8) another has reluctantly yielded
to much entreaty to return from the exile into
125
which she had been driven by him who held the chief power.(1) And of
the wives of the present rulers the one who has recovered a little from
her former calamities has much sorrow mingled with her joy because the
possessor of power is still young and inexperienced and has many designing
men on all sides of him;(2) and the other is ready to die of fear, and
spends her time more miserably than criminals condemned to death because
her husband ever since he assumed the crown up to the present day has been
constantly engaged in warfare and fighting, and is more exhausted by the
shame and the reproaches which assail him on all sides than by actual calamities.(3)
For that which has never taken place has now come to pass, the barbarians
leaving their own country have overrun an infinite space of our territory,
and that many times over, and having set fire to the land, and captured
the towns they are not minded to return home again, but after
the manner of men who are keeping holiday rather than making war, they
laugh us all to scorn;(4) and it is said that one of their kings declared
that he was amazed at the impudence of our soldiers, who although slaughtered
more easily than sheep still expect to conquer, and are not willing to
quit their own country; for he said that he himself was satiated with the
work of cutting them to pieces. Imagine what the feelings of the Emperor
and his wife must be on hearing these words!
5. And since I have made mention of this war,
a great crowd of widows has occurred to me, who in past times derived very
great lustre from the honour enjoyed by their husbands, but now are all
arrayed in a dark mourning robe and spend their whole time in lamentation.
For they had not the advantage which was enjoyed by thy dear self. For
thou, my excellent friend, didst see that goodly husband of thine lying
on his bed, and didst hear his last words, and receive his instructions
as to what should be done about the affairs of the family, and learn how
by the provisions of his will they were guarded against every kind of encroachment
on the part of rapacious and designing men. And not only this, but also
when he was yet lying dead thou didst often fling thyself upon the body,
and kiss his eyes, and embrace him, and wail over him, and thou didst see
him conducted to burial with much honour, and didst everything necessary
for his obsequies, as was fitting, and from frequent visits to his grave
thou hast no slight consolation of thy sorrow. But these women have been
deprived of all these things, having all sent out their husbands to war
in the hope of receiving them back again, instead of which it has been
their lot to receive the bitter tidings of their death. Neither has any
one come back to them with the bodies of their slain, or bringing anything
save a message describing the manner of their death. And some there are
who have not even been vouchsafed this record, or been enabled to learn
how their husbands fell, as they were buried beneath a heap of slain in
the thick of battle.
And what wonder if most of the generals perished
thus, when even the Emperor himself having been blockaded in a certain
village with a few soldiers did not dare to go out and oppose the assailants,
but remained inside and when the enemy had set fire to the building was
burnt to death together with all that were therein, not men only, but horses,
beams and walls, so that the whole was turned into a heap of ashes? And
this was the tale which they who departed to war with the Emperor brought
back to his wife in place of the Emperor himself.(5) For the splendours
of the world differ in no-wise whatever from the things which happen on
the stage, and the beauty of spring flowers. For in the first place they
flee away before they have been manifested; and then, even if they have
strength to last a little while, they speedily become ready to decay. For
what is more worthless than the honour and glory which is paid by the multitude?
what fruit has it? what kind of profit? what serviceable end does it meet?
And would that this only was the evil! but in fact besides failing to get
anything good from the possession, he who owns this most cruel mistress
is continually forced to bear much which is painful and injurious; for
mistress she is of those who own her, and in proportion as she is flattered
by her slaves does she exalt herself against them, and ties them down by
increasingly harsh commands; but she would never be able to revenge herself
on those who despise and neglect her; so much fiercer is she than any tyrant
and wild beast. For tyrants and wild animals are often mollified by humouring,
but her fury is greatest when we are most complaisant to her, and if she
finds any one who will listen to her, and yield to her in everything there
is no kind of command from which in future she can be induced to abstain.
126
Moreover she has also another ally whom one would not do wrong to call
her daughter. For after she herself has grown to maturity and fairly taken
root amongst us, she then produces arrogance, a thing which is no less
able than herself to drive the soul of those who possess it into headlong
ruin.
6. Tell me then dost thou lament this that God hath
reserved thee from such a cruel bondage, and that He has barred every avenue
against these pestilential diseases? For whilst thy husband was living
they ceased not continually assaulting the thoughts of thy heart, but since
his death they have no starting point whence they can lay hold of thy understanding.
This then is a discipline which ought to be practised in future--to abstain
from lamenting the withdrawal of these evils, and from hankering after
the bitter tyranny which they exercise. For where they blow a heavy blast
they upset all things from the foundation and shatter them to pieces; and
just as many prostitutes, although by nature ill favoured and ugly, do
yet by means of enamels and pigments excite the feelings of the youthful
whilst they are still tender, and when they have got them under their control
treat them more insolently than any slave; so also do these passions, vainglory
and arrogance, defile the souls of men more than any other kind of pollution.
On this account also wealth has seemed to the majority
of men to be a good thing; at least when it is stripped of this passion
of vainglory it will no longer seem desirable. At any rate those who have
been permitted to obtain in the midst of their poverty popular glory have
no longer preferred wealth, but rather have despised much gold when it
was bestowed upon them. And you have no need to learn from me who these
men were, for you know them better than I do, Epaminondas, Socrates, Aristeides,
Diogenes, Krates who turned his own land into a sheep walk.(1) The others
indeed, inasmuch as it was not possible for them to get rich, saw glory
brought to them in the midst of their poverty, and straightway
devoted themselves to it, but this man threw away even what he possessed;
so infatuated were they in the pursuit of this cruel monster. Let us not
then weep because God has rescued us from this shameful thraldom which
is an object of derision and of much reproach; for there is nothing
splendid in it save the name it bears, and in reality it places those who
possess it in a position which belies its appellation, and there is no
one who does not laugh to scorn the man who does anything with a view to
glory. For it is only he who has not an eye to this who will be enabled
to win respect and glory; but he who sets a great value on popular glory,
and does and endures everything for the sake of obtaining it is the very
man who will fail to attain it, and be subjected to all the exact opposites
of glory, ridicule, and accusation, scoffing, enmity and hatred. And this
is wont to happen not only among men, but also among you women, and indeed
more especially in your case. For the woman who is unaffected in mien,
and gait, and dress, and seeks no honour from any one is admired by all
women, and they are ecstatic in their praise and call her blessed, and
invoke all manner of good things upon her; but a vain-glorious woman they
behold with aversion and detestation, and avoid her like some wild beast
and load her with infinite execrations and abuse. And not only do we escape
these evils by refusing to accept popular glory, but we shall gain the
highest advantages in addition to those which have been already mentioned,
being trained gradually to loosen our hold of earth and move in the direction
of heaven, and despise all worldly things. For he who feels no need of
the honour which comes from men, will perform with security whatever good
things he does, and neither in the troubles, nor in the prosperities of
this life will he be very seriously affected; for neither can the former
depress him, and cast him down, nor can the latter elate and puff him up,
but in precarious and troubled circumstances he himself remains exempt
from change of any kind. And this I expect will speedily be the case with
your own soul, and having once for all torn yourself away from all worldly
interests you will display amongst us a heavenly manner of life, and in
a little while will laugh to scorn the glory which you now lament, and
despise its hollow and vain mask. But if you long for the security which
you formerly enjoyed owing to your husband, and the protection of your
property, and immunity from the designs of any of those persons who trample
upon the misfortunes of others "Cast thy care upon the Lord and He will
nourish thee."(2) "For look," it is said, "to past generations and see,
who ever placed his hope on the Lord and was put to shame, or who ever
called upon Him, and was neglected, or who ever remained constant to His
commandments and was forsaken?"(3) For He who has alleviated this intolerable
calamity, and placed you even now in a state of tranquillity will also
avert impending evils; for that you will never receive another blow more
severe than this you would yourself admit.
127
Having then so bravely borne present troubles, and this when you were
inexperienced, you will far more easily endure future events should any
of the things contrary to our wishes, which God forbid, occur. Therefore
seek Heaven, and all things which conduce to life in the other world, and
none of the things here will be able to harm thee, not even the world-ruler
of darkness himself, if only we do not injure ourselves. For if any one
deprives us of our substance, or hews our body in pieces, none of these
things concern us, if our soul abides in its integrity.
7. Now, once for all, if you wish your property
to abide with you in security and yet further to increase I will show thee
the plan, and the place where none of those who have designs upon it will
be allowed to enter. What then is the place? It is Heaven. Send away thy
possessions to that good husband of thine and neither thief, nor schemer,
nor any other destructive thing will be able to pounce upon them. If you
deposit these goods in the other world, you will find much profit arising
from them. For all things which we plant in Heaven yield a large and abundant
crop, such as might naturally be expected from things which have their
roots in Heaven. And if you do this, see what blessings you will
enjoy, m the first place eternal life and the things promised to those
who love God, "which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have they
entered into the heart of man," and in the second place perpetual intercourse
with thy good husband; and you will relieve yourself from the cares and
fears, and dangers, and designs, and enmity and hatred which beset you
here. For as long as you are surrounded with this property there will probably
be some to make attempts upon it; but if you transfer it to Heaven, you
will lead a life of security and safety, and much tranquillity, enjoying
independence combined with godliness. For it is very irrational, when one
wishes to buy land, and is seeking for productive ground, if, Heaven being
proposed to him instead of earth, and the possibility presented of obtaining
an estate there he abides still on earth, and puts up with the toils that
are connected with it; for it often disappoints our hopes.
But since thy soul is grievously upset and vexed
on account of the expectation often entertained that thy husband would
attain the rank of prefect, and the thought that he was untimely snatched
away from that dignity consider first of all this fact, that even if this
hope was a very well grounded one nevertheless it was only a human hope,
which often falls to the ground; and we see many things of this kind happening
in life, those which were confidently expected having remained unfulfilled,
whereas those which never even entered the mind have frequently come to
pass, and this we constantly see occurring everywhere in cases of governments
and kingdoms, and inheritances, and marriages. Wherefore even if the opportunity
were very near at hand, yet as the proverb says "between the cup and the
lip there is many a slip" and the Scripture saith "from the morning until
the evening the time is changed."(1)
So also a king who is here to-day is dead tomorrow;
and again this same wise man illustrating the reversal of men's hopes says
"many tyrants have sat down upon the ground, and one that was never thought
of has worn the crown."(2) And it was not absolutely certain that if he
lived he would arrive at this dignity; for that which belongs to the future
is uncertain, and causes us to have various suspicions. For on what grounds
was it evident that had he lived he would have attained that
dignity and that things would not have turned out the other way,
and that he would have lost the office he actually held either from falling
a victim to disease, or from being exposed to the envy and ill will of
those who wished to excel him in prosperity, or from suffering some other
grievous misfortune. But let us suppose, if you please, that it was perfectly
evident that in any case had he survived he would have obtained this high
distinction; then in proportion to the magnitude of the dignity would have
been the increased dangers, and anxieties, and intrigues which he must
have encountered. Or put these even on one side, and let us suppose him
to traverse that sea of difficulties safely, and in much tranquillity;
then tell me what is the goal? not that which he has now reached; no, not
that, but something different, probably unpleasant and undesirable. In
the first place his sight of heaven, and heavenly things would have been
delayed, which is no small loss to those who have put their trust in things
to come; and in the next place, even had he lived a very pure life yet
the length of his life and the exigencies of his high office would have
prevented his departing in such a pure condition as has now been the case.
In fact it is uncertain whether he might not have undergone many changes
and given way to indolence before he breathed his last. For now we are
confident that by the grace of God he has taken his flight to the region
of rest, because he had not committed himself to any of those deeds which
exclude from the kingdom of Heaven; but in that case after long contact
with public busi-
128
ness, he might probably have contracted great defilement. For it is an exceedingly rare thing for one who is moving in the midst of such great evils to hold a straight course, but to go astray, both wittingly and against his will, is a natural thing, and one which constantly occurs. But, as it is, we have been relieved. from this apprehension, and we are firmly persuaded that in the great day he will appear in much radiance, shining forth near the King, and going with the angels in advance of Christ and clad with the robe of unutterable glory, and standing by the side of the King as he gives judgment, and acting as one of His chief ministers. Wherefore desisting from mourning and lamentation do thou hold on to the same way of life as his, yea even let it be more exact, that having speedily attained an equal standard of virtue with him, you may inhabit the same abode and be united to him again through the everlasting ages, not in this union of marriage but another far better. For this is only a bodily kind of intercourse, but then there will be a union of soul with soul more perfect, and of a far more delightful and far nobler kind.
HOMILIES ON S. IGNATIUS AND S. BABYLAS.
EULOGY.
On the holy martyr Saint Ignatius, the god-bearer,(1)
archbishop of Antioch the great, who was carried off to Rome, and there
suffered martyrdom, and thence was conveyed back again to Antioch.
1. Sumptuous and splend identertainers give frequent
and constant entertainments, alike to display their own wealth, and to
show goodwill to their acquaintance. So also the grace of the Spirit, affording
us a proof of his own power, and displaying much goodwill towards the friends
of God, sets before us successively and constantly the tables of the martyrs.
Lately, for instance, a maiden quite young, and unmarried, the blessed
martyr Pelagia, entertained us, with much joy. To-day again, this
blessed and noble martyr Ignatius has succeeded to her feast. The persons
are different: The table is one. The wrestlings are varied: The crown is
one. The contests are manifold: The prize is the same. For in the case
of the heathen contests, since the tasks are bodily, men alone are, with
reason, admitted. But here, since the contest is wholly concerning
the soul, the lists are open to each sex, for each kind the theatre is
arranged. Neither do men alone disrobe, in order that the women may not
take refuge in the weakness of their nature, and seem to have a plausible
excuse, nor have women only quitted themselves like men, lest the race
of men be put to shame; but on this side and on that many are proclaimed
conquerors, and are crowned, in order that thou mayest learn by means of
the exploits themselves that in Christ Jesus neither male nor female,(2)
neither sex, nor weakness of body, nor age, nor any such thing could be
a hindrance to those who run in the course of religion; if there be a noble
readiness, and an eager mind, and a fear of God, fervent and kindling,
be established in our souls. On this account both maidens and women, and
men, both young and old, and slaves, and freemen, and every rank, and every
age, and each sex, disrobe for those contests, and in no respect suffer
harm, since they have brought a noble purpose to these wrestlings. The
season then already calls us to discourse of the mighty works of this saint.
But our reckoning is disturbed and confused, not knowing what
to say first, what second, what third, so great a multitude of things
calling for eulogy surrounds us, on every side; and we experience
the same thing as if any one went into a meadow, and seeing many a rosebush
and many a violet, and an abundance of lilies, and other spring flowers
manifold and varied, should be in doubt what he should look at first, what
second, since each of those he saw invites him to bestow his glances on
itself. For we too, coming to this spiritual meadow of the mighty works
of Ignatius, and beholding not the flowers of spring, but the manifold
and varied fruit of the spirit in the soul of this man, are confused and
in perplexity, not knowing to which we are first to give our consideration,
as each of the things we see draws us away from its neighbours, and entices
the eye of the soul to the sight of its own beauty. For see, he presided
over the Church among us nobly, and with such carefulness as
Christ desires. For that which Christ declared
136
to be the highest standard and rule of the Episcopal office, did this
man display by his deeds. For having heard Christ saying, the good shepherd
layeth down his life for the sheep,(1) with all courage he did lay it down
for the sheep.
He held true converse with the apostles and drank
of spiritual fountains. What kind of person then is it likely that he was
who had been reared, and who had everywhere held converse with them, and
had shared with them truths both lawful and unlawful to utter, and who
seemed to them worthy of so great a dignity? The time again came on, which
demanded courage; and a soul which despised all things present, glowed
with Divine love, and valued things unseen before the things which are
seen; and he lay aside the flesh with as much ease as one would put off
a garment. What then shall we speak of first? The teaching of the apostles
which he gave proof of throughout, or his indifference to this present
life, or the strictness of his virtue, with which he administered his rule
over the Church; which shall we first call to mind? The martyr or the bishop
or the apostle. For the grace of the spirit having woven a threefold crown,
thus bound it on his holy head, yea rather a manifold crown. For if any
one will consider them carefully, he will find each of the crowns, blossoming
with other crowns for us.
2. And if you will, let us come first to the praise
of his episcopate. Does this seem to be one crown alone? come, then, let
us unfold it in speech, and you will see both two, and three, and more
produced from it. For I do not wonder at the man alone that he seemed to
be worthy of so great an office, but that he obtained this office from
those saints, and that the hands of the blessed apostles touched his sacred
head. For not even is this a slight thing to be said in his praise, nor
because he won greater grace from above, nor only because they caused more
abundant energy of the Spirit to come upon him, but because they bore witness
that every virtue possessed by man was in him. Now how this is, I tell
you. Paul writing to Titus once on a time--and when I say Paul, I do not
speak of him alone, but also of Peter and James and John, and the whole
band of them; for as in one lyre, the strings are different strings, but
the harmony is one, so also in the band of the apostles the persons are
different, but the teaching is one, since the artificer is one, I mean
the Holy Spirit, who moves their souls, and Paul showing this said, "Whether
therefore they, or I, so we preach.(2) This man, then, writing to Titus,
and showing what kind of man the bishop ought to be, says, "For the bishop
must be blameless as God's steward; not self-willed, not soon angry, no
brawler, no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre; but given to hospitality,
a lover of good, sober-minded, just, holy, temperate, holding to the faithful
word, which is according to the teaching, that he may be able both to exhort
in the sound doctrine, and to convict the gainsayers;"(3) and to Timothy
again, when writing upon this subject, he says somewhat like this: "If
a man seeketh the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work. The bishop,
therefore, must be without reproach, the husband of one wife, temperate,
sober-minded, orderly, given to hospitality, apt to teach, no brawler,
no striker, but gentle, not contentious, no lover of money. Dost thou see
what strictness of virtue he demands from the bishop? For as some most
excellent painter from life, having mixed many colors, if he be about
to furnish an original likeness of the royal form, works with all accuracy,
so that all who are copying it, and painting from it, may have a likeness
accurately drawn, so accordingly the blessed Paul, as though painting some
royal likeness, and furnishing an original sketch of it, having mixed the
different colors of virtue, has painted in the features of the office of
bishop complete, in order that each of those who mount to that dignity,
looking thereupon, may administer their own affairs with just such strictness.
Boldly, therefore, would I say that Ignatius took
an accurate impression of the whole of this, in his own soul; and was blameless
and without reproach, and neither self-willed, nor soon angry, nor given
to wine, nor a striker, but gentle, not contentious, no lover of money,
just, holy, temperate, holding to the faithful word which is according
to the teaching, sober, sober-minded, orderly, and all the rest which Paul
demanded. "And what is the proof of this?" says one. They who said these
things ordained him, and they who suggest to others with so great strictness
to make proof of those who are about to mount to the throne of this office,
would not themselves have done this negligently. But had they not seen
all this virtue planted in the soul of this martyr would not have entrusted
him with this office. For they knew accurately how great danger besets
those who bring about such ordinations, carelessly and hap-hazard. And
Paul again, when showing this very thing to the same Timothy wrote and
says, "Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's
sins."(4) What dost thou say? Has an-
137
other sinned, and do I share his blame and his punishment? Yes, says
he, the man who authorizes evil; and just as in the case of any one entrusting
into the hands of a raging and insane person a sharply pointed sword, with
which the madman commits murder, that man who gave the sword incurs the
blame; so any one who gives the authority which arises from this office
to a man living in evil, draws down on his own head all the fire of that
man's sins and audacity. For he who provides the root, this man is the
cause of all that springs from it on every side. Dost thou see how in the
meanwhile a double crown of the episcopate has appeared, and how the dignity
of those who ordained him has made the office more illustrious, bearing
witness to every exhibition of virtue in him?
3. Do you wish that I should also reveal to you
another crown springing from this very matter? Let us consider the time
at which he obtained this dignity. For it is not the same thing to administer
the Church now as then, just as it is not the same thing to travel along
a road well trodden, and prepared, after many wayfarers; and along one
about to be cut for the first time, and containing ruts, and stones, and
full of wild beasts, and which has never yet, received any traveller. For
now, by the grace of God, there is no danger for bishops, but deep peace
on all sides, and we all enjoy a calm, since the Word of piety has been
extended to the ends of the world, and our rulers keep the faith with strictness.
But then there was nothing of this, but wherever any one might look, precipices
and pitfalls, and wars, and fightings, and dangers; both rulers, and kings,
and people and cities and nations, and men at home and abroad, laid snares
for the faithful. And this was not the only serious thing, but also the
fact that many of the believers themselves, inasmuch as they tasted for
the first time strange doctrines, stood in need of great indulgence, and
were still in a somewhat feeble condition and were often upset. And this
was a thing which used to grieve the teachers, no less than the fightings
without, nay rather much more. For the fightings without, and the plottings,
afforded much pleasure to them on account of the hope of the rewards awaiting
them. On this account the apostles returned from the presence of the Sanhedrin
rejoicing because they had been beaten;(1) and Paul cries out, saying:
"I rejoice in my sufferings,"(2) and he glories in his afflictions everywhere.
But the wounds of those at home, and the fails of the brethren, do not
suffer them to breathe again, but always, like some most heavy yoke, continually
oppress and afflict the neck of their soul. Hear at least how Paul, thus
rejoicing in sufferings, is bitterly pained about these. "For who, saith
he, is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?"(3) and
again, "I fear lest when I come I shall find you not such as I would, and
I be found of you such as ye would not,"(4) and a little afterwards, "Lest
when I come again to you, God humble me, and I shall mourn many of those
who have sinned before, and have not repented, of their uncleanness, and
wantonness, and fornication which they have committed."(5) And throughout
thou seest that he is in tears and lamentations on account of members of
the household, and evermore fearing and trembling for the believers. Just
as then we admire the pilot, not when he is able to bring those who are
on board safe to shore when the sea is calm, and the ship is borne along
by favourable winds, but when the deep is raging and the waves contending,
and the passengers themselves within in revolt, and a great storm within
and without besets those who are on board, and he is able to steer the
ship with all security; so we ought to wonder at, and admire those who
then had the Church committed to their hands, much more than those who
now have the management of it; when there was a great war without and within,
when the plant of the faith was more tender, and needed much care, when,
as a newly-born babe, the multitude in the church required much forethought,
and the greatest wisdom in any soul destined to nurse it; and in order
that ye may more clearly learn, how great crowns they were worthy of, who
then had the Church entrusted to them, and how great work and danger there
was in undertaking the matter on the threshold and at the beginning, and
in being the first to enter upon it, I bring forward for you the testimony
of Christ, who pronounces a verdict on these things, and confirms
the opinion which has been expressed by me. For when he saw many coming
to him, and was wishing to show the apostles that the prophets toiled more
than they, he says: "Others have laboured, and ye have entered into their
labour."(6) And yet the apostles toiled much more than the prophets. But
since they first sowed the word of piety, and won over the untaught souls
of men to the truth, the greater part of the work is credited to them.
For it is by no means the same thing for one to come and teach after many
teachers, and himself to be the first to sow seeds. For that which has
been already practised, and has become customary with many, would be easily
138
accepted; but that which is now for the first time heard, agitates the
mind of the hearers, and gives the teacher a great deal to do. This at
least it was which disturbed the audience at Athens, and on this account
they turned away from Paul, reproaching him with, "Thou bringest certain
strange things to our ears."(1) For if the oversight of the Church now
furnishes much weariness and work to those who govern it, consider how
double and treble and manifold was the work then, when there were dangers
and fighting and snares, and fear continually. It is not possible to set
forth in words the difficulty which those saints then encountered, but
he alone will know it who comes to it by experience.
4. And I will speak of a fourth crown, arising for
us out of this episcopate. What then is this? The fact that he was entrusted
with our own native city. For it is a laborious thing indeed to have the
oversight of a hundred men, and of fifty alone. But to have on one's hands
so great a city, and a population extending to two hundred thousand,
of how great virtue and wisdom dost thou think there is a proof? For as
in the care of armies, the wiser of the generals have on their hands the
more leading and more numerous regiments, so, accordingly, in the care
of cities. The more able of the rulers are entrusted with the larger and
more populous. And at any rate this city was of much account to God, as
indeed He manifested by the very deeds which He did. At all events the
master of the whole world, Peter, to whose hands He committed the keys
of heaven, whom He commanded to do and to bear all, He bade tarry here
for a long period. Thus in His sight our city was equivalent to the whole
world. But since I have mentioned Peter, I have perceived a fifth crown
woven from him, and this is that this man succeeded to the office after
him. For just as any one taking a great stone from a foundation hastens
by all means to introduce an equivalent to it, lest he should shake the
whole building, and make it more unsound, so, accordingly, when Peter was
about to depart from here, the grace of the Spirit introduced another teacher
equivalent to Peter, so that the building already completed should not
be made more unsound by the insignificance of the successor. We have reckoned
up then five crowns, from the importance of the office, from the dignity
of those who ordained to it, from the difficulty of the time, from the
size of the city, from the virtue of him who transmitted the episcopate
to him. Having woven all these, it was lawful to speak of a sixth, and
seventh, and more than these; but in order that we may not, by spending
the whole time on the consideration of the episcopate, miss the details
about the martyr, come from this point, let us pass to that conflict. At
one time a grievous warfare was rekindled against the Church, and as though
a most grievous tyranny over-spread the earth, all were carried off from
the midst of the market-place. Not indeed charged with anything monstrous,
but because being freed from error, they hastened to piety; because they
abstained from the service of demons, because they recognized the true
God, and worshipped his only begotten Son, and for things for which they
ought to have been crowned, and admired and honoured, for these they were
punished and encountered countless tortures, all who embraced the faith,
and much more they who had the oversight of the churches. For the devil,
being crafty, and apt to contrive plots of this kind, expected that if
he took away the shepherds, he would easily be able to scatter the flocks.
But He who takes the wise in their craftiness, wishing to show him that
men do not govern His church, but that it is He himself who everywhere
tends those who believe on Him, agreed that this should be, that he might
see, when they were taken away, that the cause of piety was not defeated,
nor the word of preaching quenched, but rather increased; that by these
very works he might learn both himself, and all those who minister to him,
that our affairs are not of men, but that the subject of our teaching has
its root on high, from the heavens; and that it is God who everywhere leads
the Church, and that it is not possible for him who fights against God,
ever to win the day. But the Devil did not only work this evil, but another
also not less than this. For not only in the cities over which they presided,
did he suffer the Bishops to be slaughtered; but he took them into foreign
territory and slew them; and he did this, in anxiety at once to take them
when destitute of friends, and hoping to render them weaker with the toil
of their journey, which accordingly he did with this saint. For he called
him away from our city to Rome, making the course twice as long, expecting
to depress his mind both by the length of the way and the number of the
days, and not knowing that having Jesus with him, as a fellow traveller,
and fellow exile on so long a journey, he rather became the stronger, and
afforded more proof of the power that was with him, and to a greater degree
knit the Churches together. For the cities which were on the road running
together from all sides, encouraged the athlete, and sped him on his way
with many supplies, sharing in his conflict
139
by their prayers, and intercessions. And they derived no little comfort
when they saw the martyr hastening to death with so much readiness, as
is consistent in one called to the realms which are in the heaven, and
by means of the works themselves, by the readiness and by the joyousness
of that noble man, that it was not death to which he was hastening, but
a kind of long journey and migration from this world, and ascension to
heaven; and he departed teaching these things in every city, both by his
words, and by his deeds, and as happened in the case of the Jews, when
they bound Paul, and sent him to Rome, and thought that they were sending
him to death, they were sending a teacher to the Jews who dwelt there.
This indeed accordingly happened in the case of Ignatius in larger measure.
For not to those alone who dwell in Rome, but to all the cities lying in
the intervening space, he went forth as a wonderful teacher, persuading
them to despise the present life, and to think naught of the things which
are seen, and to love those which are to come, to look towards heaven,
and to pay no regard to any of the terrors of this present life. For on
this and on more than this, by means of his works, he went on his way instructing
them, as a sun rising from the east, and hastening to the west. But rather
more brilliant than this, for this is wont to run on high, bringing material
light, but Ignatius shone below, imparting to men's souls the intellectual
light of doctrine. And that light on departing into the regions of the
west, is hidden and straightway causes the night to come on. But this on
departing to the regions of the west, shone there more brilliantly, conferring
the greatest benefits to all along the road. And when he arrived at the
city, even that he instructed in Christian wisdom. For on this account
God permitted him there to end his life, so that this man's death might
be instructive to all who dwell in Rome. For we by the grace of God need
henceforward no evidence, being rooted in the faith. But they who dwelt
in Rome, inasmuch as these was great impiety there, required more help.
On this account both Peter and Paul, and this man after them, were all
slain there, partly, indeed, in order that they might purify with their
own blood, the city which had been defiled with blood of idols, and partly
in order that they might by their works afford a proof of the resurrection
of the crucified Christ, persuading those who dwell in Rome, that they
would not with so much pleasure disdain this present life, did they not
firmly persuade themselves that they were about to ascend to the crucified
Jesus, and to see him in the heavens. For in reality it is the greatest
proof of the resurrection that the slain Christ should show forth so great
power after death, as to persuade living men to despise both country and
home and friends, and acquaintance and life itself, for the sake of confessing
him, and to choose in place of present pleasures, both stripes and dangers
and death. For these are not the achievements of any dead man, nor of one
remaining in the tomb but of one risen and living, Since how couldest thou
account, when he was alive, for all the Apostles who companied with him
becoming weaker through fear to betray their teachers and to flee and depart;
but when he died, for not only Peter and Paul, but even Ignatius, who had
not even seen him, nor enjoyed his companionship, showing such earnestness
as to lay down life itself for his sake?
5. In order then that all who dwell in Rome might
learn that these things are a reality, God allowed that there the saint
should be perfected,(1) and that this was the reason I will guarantee from
the very manner of his death. For not outside the walls, in a dungeon,
nor even in a court of justice, nor in some corner, did he receive the
sentence which condemned him, but in the midst of the theatre, while the
whole city was seated above him, he underwent this form of martyrdom, wild
beasts being let loose upon him, in order that he might plant his trophy
against the Devil, beneath the eyes of all, and make all spectators emulous
of his own conflicts. Not dying thus nobly only, but dying even with pleasure.
For not as though about to be severed from life, but as called to a better
and more spiritual life, so he beheld the wild beasts gladly. Whence is
this manifest? From the words which he uttered when about to die, for when
he heard that this manner of punishment awaited him, "may I have joy,"
said he, "of these wild beasts."(2) For such are the loving. For they receive
with pleasure whatever they may suffer for the sake of those who are beloved,
and they seem to have their desire satisfied when what happens to them
is more than usually grievous. Which happened, therefore, in this man's
case. For not by his death alone, but also by his readiness he studied
to emulate the apostles, and hearing that they, after they had been scourged
retired with joy, himself too wished to imitate his teachers, not only
by his death, but by his joy. On this account he said, "may I have joy
of thy wild beasts," and much milder than the tongue of the tyrant did
he consider the mouths of these; and very reasonably. For while that invited
140
him to Gehenna, their mouths escorted him to a kingdom. When, therefore,
he made an end of life there, yea rather, when he ascended to heaven, he
departed henceforward crowned. For this also happened through the dispensation
of God, that he restored him again to us, and distributed the martyr to
the cities. For that city received his blood as it dropped, but ye were
honoured with his remains, ye enjoyed his episcopate, they enjoyed his
martyrdom. They saw him in conflict, and victorious, and crowned, but ye
have him continually. For a little time God removed him from you, and with
greater glory granted him again to you. And as those who borrow money,
return with interest what they receive, so also God, using this valued
treasure of yours, for a little while, and having shown it to that city,
with greater brilliancy gave it back to you. Ye sent forth a Bishop, and
received a martyr; ye sent him forth with prayers, and ye received him
with crowns; and not only ye, but all the cities which intervene. For how
do ye think that they behaved when they saw his remains being brought back?
What pleasure was produced! how they rejoiced! with what applause on all
sides they beset the crowned one! For as with a noble athlete, who has
wrestled down all his antagonists, and who comes forth with radiant glory
from the arena, the spectators receive him, and do not suffer him to tread
the earth, bringing him home on their shoulders, and besetting him with
countless praises: so also the cities in order receiving this saint then
from Rome, and bearing him upon their shoulders as far as this city, escorted
the crowned one with praises, celebrating the champion, in song; laughing
the Devil to scorn, because his artifice was turned against him, and what
he thought to do against the martyr, this turned out for his behoof. Then,
indeed, he profited, and encouraged all the cities; and from that time
to this day he enriches this city, and as some perpetual treasure, drawn
upon every day, yet not failing, makes all who partake of it more prosperous,
so also this blessed Ignatius filleth those who come to him with blessings,
with boldness, nobleness of spirit, and much courage, and so sendeth them
home.
Not only to-day, therefore, but every day let us
go forth to him, plucking spiritual fruits from him. For it is, it is possible
for him who comes hither with faith to gather the fruit of many good things.
For not the bodies only, but the very sepulchres of the saints have been
filled with spiritual grace. For if in the case of Elisha this happened,
and a corpse when it touched the sepulchre, burst the bands of death and
returned to life again,(1) much rather now, when grace is more abundant,
when the energy of the spirit is greater, is it possible that one touching
a sepulchre, with faith, should win great power; thence on this account
God allowed us the remains of the saints, wishing to lead by them us to
the same emulation, and to afford us a kind of haven, and a secure consolation
for the evils which are ever overtaking us. Wherefore I beseech you all,
if any is in despondency, if in disease, if under insult, if in any other
circumstance of this life, if in the depth of sins, let him come hither
with faith, and he will lay aside all those things, and will return with
much joy, having procured a lighter conscience from the sight alone. But
more, it is not only necessary that those who are in affliction should
come hither, but if any one be in cheerfulness, in glory, in power, in
much assurance towards God, let not this man despise the benefit. For coming
hither and beholding this saint, he will keep these noble possessions unmoved,
persuading his own soul to be moderate by the recollection of this man's
mighty deeds, and not suffering his conscience by the mighty deeds to be
lifted up to any self conceit. And it is no slight thing for those in prosperity
not to be puffed up at their good fortune, but to know how to bear their
prosperity with moderation, so that the treasure is serviceable to all,
the resting place is suitable, for the fallen, in order that they may escape
from their temptations, for the fortunate, that their success may remain
secure, for those in weakness indeed, that they may return to health, and
for the healthy, that they may not fall into weakness. Considering all
which things, let us prefer this way of spending our time, to all delight,
all pleasure, in order that rejoicing at once, and profiling, we may be
able to become partakers with these saints, both of their dwelling and
of their home, through the prayers of the saints themselves, through the
grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to
the Father with the Holy Spirit, now and always forever and ever amen.
141
ON THE HOLY MARTYR, S. BABYLAS.
1. I was anxious to-day to pay the debt which I promised
you when I was lately here. But what am I to do? In the meanwhile, the
blessed Babylas has appeared, and has called me to himself, uttering no
voice, but attracting our attention by the brightness of his countenance.
Be ye not, therefore, displeased at the delay in my payment; at all events,
the longer the time is, the more the interest will increase. For we will
deposit this money with interest.(1) Since thus did the master command
who entrusted it to us. Being confident, therefore, about what is lent,
that both the principal and the profit await you, let us not pass by the
gain which falls in our way to-day, but revel in the noble actions of the
blessed Babylas.
How, indeed, he presided over the Church which is
among us, and saved that sacred ship, in storm, and in wave, and billow;
and what a bold front he showed to the emperor, and how he lay down his
life for the sheep and underwent that blessed slaughter; these things and
such as these, we will leave to the eider among our teachers, and to our
common father, to speak of. For the more remote matters, the aged can relate
to you but as many things as happened lately, and within our lifetime,
these, I a young man will relate to you, I mean those after death, those
after the burial of the martyr, those which happened while he remained
in the suburbs of the city. And I know indeed that the Greeks will laugh
at my promise, if I promise to speak of the noble deeds after death and
burial of one who was buried, and had crumbled to dust. We shall not assuredly
on this account keep silence, but on this very account shall especially
speak, in order that by showing this marvel truly, we may turn their laughter
upon their own head. For of an ordinary man there would be no noble deeds
after death. But of a martyr, many and great deeds, not in order that he
might become more illustrious (for he has no need of glory from the multitude),
but that thou, the unbeliever mayest learn that the death of the martyrs
is not death, but the beginning of a better life, and the prelude of a
more spiritual conversation, and a change from the worse to the better.
Do not then look at the fact, that the mere body of the martyr lies destitute
of energy of soul; but observe this, that a greater power takes its place
by the side of it, different from the soul itself--I mean the grace of
the Holy Spirit, which pleads to all on behalf of the resurrection, by
means of the wonders which it works. For if God has granted greater power
to bodies dead and crumbled to dust, than to all living, much more will
he grant to them a better life than the former, and a longer, at the time
of the bestowal of his crowns; what then are this saint's noble deeds?
But be not disturbed, if we take our discourse a little further back. For
they who wish to display their portraits to advantage, do not uncover them
until they have placed the spectators a little way off from the picture,
making the view clearer by the distance. Do you then also have patience
with me while I direct my discourse into the past.
For when Julian who surpassed all in impiety, ascended
the imperial throne, and grasped the despotic sceptre, straightway he lifted
up his hands against the God who created him, and ignored his benefactor,
and looking from the earth beneath to the heavens, howled after the manner
of mad dogs, who alike bay at those who do not feed them and those who
do feed them. But he rather was mad with a more savage madness than theirs.
For they indeed turn from, and hate their friends and strangers alike.
But this man used to fawn upon demons, strangers to his salvation, and
used to worship them with every mode of worship. But his benefactor, and
Saviour, and him who spared not the only Begotten, for his sake, he turned
from and used to hate, and made havoc of the cross, the very thing which
uplifted the whole world when it was lying prostrate, and drave away the
darkness on all sides, and brought in light more brilliant than the sunbeams;
nor yet even then did he desist from his frenzy, but promised that he would
tear the nation of the Galilaeans, out of the midst of the world; for thus
he was wont to call us; and yet if he thought the names of the Christians
an abomination, and Christianity itself to be full of much shame, for what
reason did he not desire to put us to shame by that means, but with a strange
name? Yea because he knew clearly, that to be called by what belongs to
Christ, is a great ornament not only to men, but to angels, and to the
powers above. On this account he set everything in motion, so as to strip
us of this ornament, and put a stop to the preaching of it. But this was
impossible, O wretched and miserable man! as it was impossible to destroy
the heaven and to quench the sun, and to shake and cast down the foundations
of the earth, and those things
142
Christ foretold, thus saying: "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but
my words shall not pass away."(1)
Well, thou dost not submit to Christ's words; accept
therefore the utterance which thus his deeds give. For I indeed having
been privileged to know what the declaration of God is, how strong, how
invincible a thing, have believed that is more trustworthy than the order
of nature, and than experience in all matters. But do thou still creeping
on the ground, and agitated with the investigations of human reasoning,
receive the witness of the deeds. I gainsay nothing. I strive not.
2. What then do the deeds say? Christ said that
it was easier for heaven and earth to be destroyed, than for any of his
words to fail.(2) The emperor contradicted these words, and threatened
to destroy his decrees. Where then is the emperor who threatened these
things? He is perished and is corrupted, and is now in Hades, awaiting
the inevitable punishment. But where is Christ who uttered these decrees?
In Heaven, on the right hand of the Father, occupying the highest throne
of glory; where are the blasphemous words of the Emperor, and his unchastened
tongue? They are become ashes, and dust and the food of worms. Where is
the sentence of Christ? It shines forth by the very truth of the deed,
receiving its lustre from the issue of the events, as from a golden column.
And yet the emperor left nothing undone, when about to raise war against
us, but used to call prophets together, and summon sorcerers, and everything
was full of demons and evil spirits.
What then was the return for this worship? The overturning
of cities, the bitterest famine of all famines. For ye know doubtless,
and remember, how empty indeed the market place was of wares, and the workshops
full of confusion, when everyone strove to snatch up what came first and
to depart. And why do I speak of famine, when the very fountains of waters
were failing, fountains which by the abundance of their stream, used to
eclipse the rivers. But since I have mentioned the fountains, come, forthwith,
let us go up to Daphne, and conduct our discourse to the noble deeds of
the martyr. Although you desire me still to parade the indecencies of the
Greeks, although I too desire this, let us abstain; for wherever the commemoration
of a martyr is, there certainly also is the shame of the Greeks. This emperor
then, going up to Daphne used to weary Apollo, praying, supplicating, entreating,
so that the events of the future might be foretold to him. What then did
the prophet, the great God of the Greeks? "The dead prevent me from uttering,"
saith he, "but break open the graves, dig up the bones, move the dead."
What could be more impious than these commands? The Demon of grave-robbing,
introduces strange laws and devises new methods of expelling strangers.
Who ever heard of the dead being driven forth? who ever saw lifeless bodies
ordered to be moved as he commanded, overturning from their foundations
the common laws of nature. For the laws of nature are common to all men,
that he who departs this life should be hidden in the earth, and delivered
over for burial, and be covered up in the bosom of the earth the mother
of all; and these laws, neither Greek, barbarian, Scythian, nor if there
be any more savage than they, ever changed, but all reverence them, and
keep them, and thus they are sacred and venerated by all. But the Demon
raises his mask, and with bare head, resists the common laws of nature.
For the dead, he says, are a pollution. The dead are not a pollution, a
most wicked demon, but a wicked intention is an abomination. But if one
must say something startling, the bodies of the living full of evil, are
more polluting than those of the dead. For the one minister to the behests
of the mind, but the other lie unmoved. Now that which is unmoved, and
destitute of all perception would be free from all accusation. Not that
I even would say that the bodies of the living are by nature polluting;
but that everywhere a wicked and perverted intention is open to accusations
from all.
The dead body then is not a pollution O Apollo,
but to persecute a maiden who wishes to be modest, and to outrage the dignity
of a virgin, and to lament at the failure of the shameless deed, this is
worthy of accusation, and punishment. There were at all events, many wonderful
and great prophets among ourselves, who spake also many things concerning
the future, and they in no case used to bid those who asked them to dig
up the bones of the departed. Yea Ezekiel standing near the bones themselves
was not only not hindered by them, but added flesh, and nerves and skin
to them, and brought them back to life again.(3) But the great Moses did
not stand near the bones of the dead, but bearing off the whole dead body
of Joseph, thus foretold things to come.(4) And very reasonably, for their
words were the grace of the Holy Spirit. But the words of these, a deceit,
and a lie which is no wise able to be concealed. For that these things
were an excuse, and pretence and that he feared the blessed Babylas, is
manifest from what the emperor did. For leaving all the other dead, he
only moved that martyr. And
143
yet if he did these things, in disgust at him, and not in fear, it were
necessary that he should order the coffin to be broken, thrown into the
sea, carried to the desert, be made to disappear by some other method of
destruction; for this is the part of one who is disgusted. Thus God did
when he spake to the Hebrews about the abominations of the Gentiles. He
bade their statues to be broken, not to bring their abominations from the
suburbs to the city.
3. The martyr then was moved, but the demon not
even then enjoyed freedom from fear, but straightway learned that it is
possible to move the bones of a martyr, but not to escape his hands. For
as soon as the coffin was drawn into the city, a thunderbolt came from
above upon the head of his image, and burnt it all up. And yet, if not
before, then at least there was likelihood that the impious emperor would
be angry, and that he would send forth his anger against the testimony
of the martyr. But not even then did he dare, so great fear possessed him.
But although he saw that the burning was intolerable, and knew the cause
accurately; he kept quiet. And this is not only wonderful that he did not
destroy the testimony, but that he not even dared to put the roof on to
the temple again. For he knew, he knew, that the stroke was divinely sent,
and he feared lest by forming any further plan, he should call down that
fire upon his own head. On this account he endured to see the shrine of
Apollo brought to so great desolation; For there was no other cause, on
account of which he did not rectify that which had happened, but fear alone.
For which reason he unwillingly kept quiet, and knowing this left as much
reproach to the demon, as distinction to the martyr. For the walls are
now standing, instead of trophies, uttering a voice clearer than a trumpet.
To those in Daphne, to those in the city, to those who arrive from far
off, to those who are with us, to those men which shall be hereafter, they
declare everything by their appearance, the wrestling, the struggle, the
victory of the martyr. For it is likely that he who dwells far off from
the suburb, when he sees the chapel of the saint deprived of a shrine,
and the temple of Apollo deprived of its roof would ask the reason of each
of these things; and then after learning the whole history would depart
hence. Such are the noble deeds of the martyr after death, wherefore I
count your city blessed, that ye have shown much zeal about this holy man.
For then, when he returned from Daphne, all our city poured forth into
the road, and the market places were empty of men, and the houses were
empty of women, and the bedchambers were destitute of maidens. Thus also
every age and each sex passed forth from the city, as if to receive a father
long absent who was returning from sojourn far away. And you indeed gave
him back to the band of fellow enthusiasts. But the grace of God did not
suffer him to remain there for good, but again removed him beyond the river,(1)
so that many parts of the country were filled with the sweet savor of the
martyr. Neither even when he came hither was he destined to be alone, but
he quickly received, a neighbor, and a fellow-lodger, and one of similar
life.(2) For he shared with him the same dignity, and for the sake of religion
shewed forth equal boldness. Wherefore he obtained the same abode as he,
this wonderful man being no vain imitator, as it seems, of the martyr.
For for so long a time he laboured there, sending letters continually to
the emperor, wearying the authorities, and bringing he ministry of the
body to bear upon the martyr. For ye know, doubtless, and remember that
when the midday summer sun possessed the heaven, he together with his acquaintances,
used to walk thither everyday, not as spectator only, but also, as intending
to be a sharer in what was going on. For he often handled stone, and dragged
a rope, and listened, in advance of the workmen themselves, to one who
wanted to erect any building, For he knew, he knew what rewards lie in
store for him for these things. And on this account he continued doing
service to the martyrs, not only by splendid buildings nor even by continual
feasts, but by a better method than these. And what is this? He imitates
their life, emulates their courage, throughout according to his ability
he keeps the image of the martyrs alive, in himself. For see, they gave
their bodies to the slaughter, he has mortified the members of his flesh
which are upon the earth. They stopped the flame of fire, he quenched the
flame of lust. They fought against the teeth of beasts, but this man bore
off the most dangerous of our passions, anger. For all these things let
us give thanks to God, because he hath thus granted us noble martyrs, and
pastors worthy of martyrs, for the perfecting of the saints, for the edifying
of the body of Christ(3) with whom be glory, honor, and might to the Father,
with the Holy and lifegiving Spirit, now and always, for ever and ever.
Amen.
CONCERNING LOWLINESS OF MIND.
HOMILY.
AGAINST THOSE WHO IMPROPERLY USE THE APOSTOLIC DECLARATION WHICH SAYS, "WHETHER IN PRETENCE, OR IN SINCERITY, CHRIST IS PREACHED:" (Phil. i. 18), AND ABOUT HUMBLENESS OF MIND.
INTRODUCTION.
There is an allusion at the beginning of this Homily to some remarks
recently made on the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. These occur
in Chrysostom's fifth Homily against the Anomoeans, one of a set of Homilies
which, from internal evidence, may be assigned to the close of the year
386, or beginning of 387. The following homily therefore was delivered
at Antioch, probably just before Christmas 386. There were some persons
who explained the words of St. Paul cited in the title as signifying that
provided Christ was preached it mattered not whether the actual doctrines
taught were true or heretical. The main object of the homily is to vindicate
the language of the Apostle from this erroneous and mischievous interpretation.
1. When lately we made mention of the Pharisee and the publican, and
hypothetically yoked two chariots out of virtue and vice; we pointed
out each truth, how great is the gain of humbleness of mind, and how great
the damage of pride. For this, even when conjoined with righteousness and
fastings and tithes, fell behind; while that, even when yoked with sin,
outstripped the Pharisee's pair, even although the charioteer it had was
a poor one. For what was worse than the publican? But all the same since
he made his soul contrite, and called himself a sinner; which indeed he
was; he surpassed the Pharisee, who had both fastings to tell of and tithes;
and was removed from any vice. On account of what, and through what? Because
even if he was removed from greed of gain and robbery, he had rooted over
his soul(2) the mother of all evils--vain-glory and pride. On this account
Paul also exhorts and says "Let each one prove his own work; and then he
will have his ground of boasting for himself, and not for the other." Whereas
he publicly came forward(3) as an accuser of the whole world;(4) and said
that he himself was better than all living men. And yet even if he had
set himself before ten only, or if five, or if two, or if one, not even
was this endurable; but as it was, he not only set himself before the whole
world, but also accused all men. On this account he fell behind in the
running. And just as a ship, after having run through innumerable surges,
and having escaped many storms, then in the very mouth of the harbour having
been dashed against some rock, loses the whole treasure which is stowed
away in her--so truly did this Pharisee, after having undergone the labours
of the fasting, and of all the
148
rest of his virtue, since he did not master his tongue, in the very
harbour underwent shipwreck of his cargo.(1) For the going home from prayer,
whence he ought to have derived gain, having rather been so greatly damaged,
is nothing else than undergoing shipwreck in harbour.
2. Knowing therefore these things, beloved even
if we should have mounted to the very pinnacle of virtue, let us consider
ourselves last of all; having learned that pride is able to cast down even
from the heavens themselves him who takes not heed, and humbleness of mind
to bear up on high from, the very abyss of sins him who knows how to be
sober. For this it was that placed the publican before the Pharisee; whereas
that, pride I mean and an overweening spirit, surpassed even an incorporeal
power, that of the devil; while humbleness of mind and the acknowledgment
of his own sins committed brought the robber into Paradise before the Apostles.
Now if the confidence which they who confess their own sins effect for
themselves is so great, they who are conscious to themselves of many good
qualities, yet humble their own souls, how great crowns will they not win.(2)
For when sinfulness be put together with humbleness of mind it runs with
such ease as to pass and out-strip righteousness combined with pride. If
therefore thou have put it to with righteousness, whither will it not reach?
through how many heavens will it not pass? By the throne of God itself
surely it will stay its course;(3) in the midst of the angels, with much
confidence. On the other hand if pride, having been yoked with righteousness,
by the excess and weight of its own wickedness had strength enough to drag
down its confidence; if it be put together with sinfulness, into how deep
a hell will it not be able to precipitate him who has it? These things
I say, not in order that we should be careless of righteousness, but that
we should avoid pride; not that we should sin, but that we should be sober-minded.
For humbleness of mind is the foundation of the love of wisdom which pertains
to us. Even if thou shouldest have built a superstructure of things innumerable;
even if almsgiving, even if prayers, even if fastings, even if all virtue;
unless this have first been laid as a foundation, all will be built upon
it(4) to no purpose and in vain; and it will fall down easily, like that
building which had been placed on the sand.(5) For there is no one, no
one of our good deeds, which does not need this; there is no one which
separate from this will be able to stand. But even if thou shouldest
mention temperance, even if virginity, even if despising of money, even
if anything whatever, all are unclean and accursed and loathsome, humbleness
of mind being absent. Everywhere therefore let us take her with us,(6)
in words, in deeds, in thoughts, and with this let us build these (graces).
3. But the things belonging to humbleness of mind
have been sufficiently spoken of; not for the value of the virtue;(7) for
no one will be able to celebrate it in accordance with its value; but for
the intelligence of your love. For well do I know that even from the few
things that have been said you will embrace it with much zeal. But since
it is also necessary to make clear and manifest the apostolic saying which
has been to-day read; seeming as it does to many to afford a pretext for
indolence; so that some may not, providing for themselves hence a certain
frigid defence, neglect their own salvation--to this let us direct our
discourse. What then is this saying? "Whether m pretence," it says, "or
in sincerity,(8) Christ is preached."(9) This many wrest absolutely ,o
and just as happens, without reading what precedes and what comes after
it; but having cut it off from the sequence of the remaining members, to
the destruction of their own soul they put it forward to the more indolent.
For attempting to seduce them from the sound faith; then seeing them afraid
and trembling; on the ground of its not being without danger to do this,(11)
and desiring to relieve their fears, they bring forward this apostolic
declaration, saying, Paul conceded this, by saying, "Whether m pretence
or in sincerity, let Christ be proclaimed." But these things are not (true),
they are not. For in the first place he did not say "let him be proclaimed,"
but "he is proclaimed," and the difference between this and that is wide.
For the saying "let him be proclaimed" belongs to a lawgiver; but the saying
"he is proclaimed" to one announcing the event. For that Paul does not
ordain a law that there should be heresies, but draws away all who attended
to him, hear what he says, "If any one preaches to you a gospel besides
what ye have received, let him be ana-
149
thema, were it even I, were it even an angel from the heavens."(1) Now
he would not have anathematized both himself and an angel, if he had known
the act to be without danger. And again--"I am jealous of you with a jealousy
of God," he says; "for I have betrothed you to one husband a chaste virgin:
and fear lest at some time, as the serpent beguiled Eve by his wiliness,
so your thoughts should be corrupted from the singleness that is towards
Christ."(2) See, he both set down singleness, and granted no allowance.
For if there were allowance, there was no danger; and if there was no danger
Paul would not have feared: and Christ would not also have commanded that
the tares should be burned up, if it were a thing indifferent to attend
to this one or that or another; or to all indiscriminately.(3)
4. What ever then is what is meant? I wish to narrate
to you the whole history from a point a little earlier;(4) for it is needful
to know in what circumstances Paul was when he was writing these things
by letter. In what circumstances therefore was he? In prison and chains
and intolerable perils. Whence is this manifest? From the epistle itself.
For earlier than this he says, "Now I wish you to know, brethren, that
the circumstances in which I am have come rather to the furtherance s of
the Gospel; so that my bonds have become manifest in Christ in the whole
Court, and to all the others; and a good many(6) of the brethren, trusting
to my bonds, the more exceedingly dare fearlessly to speak the word."(7)
Now Nero had then cast him into prison. For just as some robber having
set foot in the house, while all are sleeping, when stealing every thing,(8)
if he see any one having lit a lamp, both extinguishes the light and slays
him who holds the lamp, in order that he may be allowed in security to
steal and rob the property of others; so truly also the Caesar Nero
then, just as any robber and burglar while all were sleeping a deep and
unconscious slumber; robbing the property of all, breaking into marriage
chambers,(9) subverting houses, displaying every form of wickedness; when
he saw Paul having lighted a lamp throughout the world; (the word of his
teaching;) and reproving his wickedness, exerted himself both to extinguish
what was preached, and to put the teachers out of the way; in order that
he might be allowed with authority to do anything he pleased; and after
binding that holy man, cast him into prison. It was at that time then that
the blessed Paul wrote these things. Who would not have been astounded?
who would not have marvelled? or rather who could adequately have been
astounded at and admired that noble and heaven-reaching soul; in that,
while bound in Rome and imprisoned, at so great a distance as that, he
wrote a letter to the Philippians? For you know how great is the distance
between Macedonia and Rome. But neither did the length of the way, nor
the amount of time (required), nor the press of business, nor the peril
and the dangers coming one upon another, nor anything else, drive out his
love for and remembrance of the disciples; but he retained them all in
his mind; and not so strongly were his hands bound with the chains as his
soul was bound together and rivetted by his longing for the disciples:(10)
which very thing itself indeed also declaring, in the preface of the Epistle
he said, "On account of my having you in my heart, both in my bonds, and
in the defence and confirmation of the Gospel."(11) And just as a King,
having ascended upon his throne at morning-tide and taken his seat in the
royal courts, immediately receives from all quarters innumerable letters;
so truly he also, just as in royal courts, seated in the dungeon, both
received and sent his letters in far greater number; the nations from all
quarters referring to his wisdom every thing about(12) what had taken place
among themselves; and he administered more business than the reigning monarch
in proportion to his having had a larger dominion entrusted to him. For
in truth God had brought and put into his hands not those who inhabited
the country of the Romans only, but also all the barbarians, both land
and sea. And by way of showing this he said to the Romans, "Now I would
not that ye should be ignorant, brethren, that ofttimes I have purposed
to come to you, and have been hindered until the present; in order that
I might have some fruit also among you, as among the rest of the Gentiles
too. Both to Greeks and barbarians, both to wise and those without understanding
I am a debtor."(13) Every day therefore he was in anxious thought at one
moment for Corinthians, at another for Macedonians; how Philippians, how
Cappadocians, how Galatians, how Athenians, how they who inhabited Pon-
150
tus. how all together were. But all the same, having had the whole world
put into his hands, he continually cared not for entire nations only, but
also for each single man; and now indeed he despatched a letter on
behalf of Onesimus, and now on behalf of him who among the Corinthians
had committed fornication. For neither used he to regard this--that it
was the individual who had sinned and needed advocacy; but that it was
a human being; a human being, the living thing most precious to God; and
for whose sake the Father had not spared even the Only-begotten.
5. For do not tell me that this or that man is a
runaway slave, or a robber or thief, or laden with countless faults, or
that he is a mendicant and abject, or of low value and worthy of no account;
but consider that for his sake the Christ died; and this sufficeth thee
for a ground for all solicitude. Consider what sort of person he must be,
whom Christ valued at so high a price as not to have spared even his own
blood. For neither, if a king had chosen to sacrifice himself on any one's
behalf, should we have sought out another demonstration of his being some
one great and of deep interest to the King--I fancy not--for his death
would suffice to show the love of him who had died towards him. But as
it is not man, not angel, not archangel; but the Lord of the heavens himself,
the only-begotten Son of God himself having clothed himself with flesh,
freely gave himself on our behalf. Shall we not do everything, and take
every trouble, so that the men who have been thus valued may enjoy every
solicitude at our hands? And what kind of defence shall we have? what allowance?
This at least is the very thing by way of declaring which Paul also said,
"Do not by thy meat destroy him for whose sake Christ died."(1) For desiring
to shame, and to bring to solicitude, and to persuade to care for their
neighbours, those who despise their brethren, and look down upon them as
being weak, instead of all(2) else he set down the Master's death.
Sitting then in the prison he wrote the letter to
the Philippians from that so great distance. For such as this is the love
that is according to God:(3) it is interrupted by no one of human things,
since it has its roots from above in the heavens(4) and its recompense.
And what says he? "Now I desire that ye should know, brethren"(5) Seest
thou solicitude for his scholars? seest thou a teacher's carefulness? Hear
too of loving affection of scholars towards their teacher, that thou mayest
know that this was what made them strong and unconquerable--the being bound
together with one another. For if "Brother helped by brother is as a strong
city;"(6) far more so many bound together by the bonds of love would
have entirely repulsed the plotting of the wicked demon. That indeed then
Paul was bound up with the disciples, requires not even any demonstration
further nor argument for us, since in truth even when in bonds he anxiously
cared for them, and each day, he was also dying for them, burning with
his longing.
6. And that the disciples too were bound up with
Paul with all perfectness;(7) and that not men only but women also, hear
what he says about Phoebe. "Now I commend(8) to you Phoebe the sister,
being a deaconess of the Church which is in Cenchreae; that ye may receive
her in the Lord worthily of the saints, and stand by her, in whatever matter
she may require you, since(9) she has proved a helper(10) of many; and
of me myself."(11) But in this instance he bore witness to her of her zeal
so far as help went (only;)(12) but Priscilla and Aquila went as far even
as death for Paul's sake; and about them he thus writes, saying, "Aquila
and Priscilla salute you, who for my life's sake laid down their own neck;"(13)
for death clearly. And about another again writing to these very persons
he says, "Because he went as far as death; having counselled ill for his
life, in order that he might supply your deficiency in your service towards
me.(14) Seest thou how they loved their teacher? how they regarded his
rest(15) before their own life? On this account no one surpassed them then.
Now this I say, not that we may hear only, but that we may also imitate;
and not to the ruled only, but also to those who rule is what we say addressed;
in order that both scholars may display much solicitude about their teachers,
and the teachers may have the same loving affection as Paul about those
placed under them; not those present only, but also those who are far off.
For also Paul, dwelling in the whole world just as in one house, thus
151
continually took thought for the salvation of all; and having dismissed
every thing of his own; bonds and troubles and stripes and
straits, watched over and inquired into each day, in what state the
affairs of the disciples were; and often for this very purpose alone
sent, now Timothy, and now Tychicus; and about him he says, "That
he may know your circumstances, and encourage your hearts:"(1)
and about Timothy; "I have sent him, being no longer able to contain
myself; lest in some way the tempter have tempted you."(2) And Titus
again elsewhere, and another to another place. For since he himself, by
the compulsion of his bonds being often detained in one place, was unable
to meet those who were his vitals, he met them through the disciples.
7. And then therefore being in bonds he writes to
the Philippians, saying, "Now I desire that ye should know, brethren,"(3)
calling the disciples brethren. For such a thing as this is love; it casts
out all inequality, and knows not superiority and dignity; but even if
one be higher than all, he descends to the lowlier position of all; just
what Paul also used to do. But let us hear what it is that he desires they
should know. "That the things which happened unto me," he says, "have fallen
out rather to the furtherance of the gospel."(4) Tell me, how and in what
way? Hast thou then been released from thy bonds? hast thou then put off
thy chain? and dost thou with free permission preach in the city? hast
thou then, having gone into an assembly, drawn out many long discourses
about the faith, and departed after gaining many disciples? hast thou then
raised the dead and been made an object of wonder? hast thou then cleansed
lepers, and all were astounded? hast thou driven away demons, and been
exalted? No one of these things, he says. How then did the furtherance
of the gospel take place? tell me. "So that my bonds," he says, "have become
openly known in the whole Court, and to all the rest."(5) What sayest thou?
this then, this was the furtherance, this the advance, this the increase
of the proclamation--that all knew that thou wast bound. Yes, he says:
Hear at least what comes next, that thou mayest learn that the bonds not
only proved no hindrance, but also a ground of greater freedom of speech.
"So that several(6) of the brethren in the Lord, in reliance on my bonds,
more abundantly dare fearlessly to speak the word."(7) What
sayest thou, O Paul? have thy bonds inspired not anxiety but confidence?
not fear but earnest longing? The things mentioned have no consistency.(8)I
too know it. For neither did these things take place according to the consistency
of human affairs, he means,(9) but what came about was above nature, and
the successes were of divine grace. On this account what used to cause
anxiety to all others, that to him afforded confidence. For also if any
one, having taken the leader of an army land confined him, have made this
publicly known, he throws the whole camp into flight; and if any
one have carried a shepherd away from the flock, the security with which
he drives off the sheep is great. But not in Paul's case was it thus, but
the contrary entirely. For the leader of the army was bound, and the soldiers
became more forward in spirit; and the confidence with which they sprung
upon their adversaries was greater: the shepherd was in confinement, and
the sheep were not consumed, nor even scattered.
8. Who ever saw, who ever heard of, the scholars taking greater encouragement
in the dangers of their teachers? How was it that they feared not? how
was it that they were not terrified? how was it that they did not say to
Paul, "Physician, heal thyself,"(10) deliver thyself from thy manifold
perils, and then thou will be able to procure for us those countless good
things? How was it they did not say these things? How! It was because they
had been schooled, from the grace of the Spirit, that these things took
place not out of weakness, but out of the permission of the Christ; in
order that the truth might shine abroad more largely; through bonds and
imprisonments and tribulations and straits increasing and rising, to a
greater volume. Thus is the power of Christ in weakness perfected.(11)
For indeed if his bonds had crippled Paul(12) and made him cowardly; either
himself or those belonging to him; one could not but feel difficulty; but
if rather they prepared him to feel confidence and brought him into greater
renown, one must be astounded and marvel, how through a thing involving
dishonour glory was procured for the disciple--through a thing inspiring
Cowardice confidence and encouragement resulted to them all. For who was
not astounded at him then, seeing him encircled with a chain? Then demons
took to flight all the more, when they saw him spending his
152
time in a prison. For not so splendid does the diadem make a royal head,
as the chain his hands; not owing to their proper nature, but owing to
the grace that darted brightness on them.(1) On this account it was that
great encouragement resulted to the disciples. For also they saw his body
indeed bound, but his tongue not bound, his hands indeed tightly manacled,(2)
but his voice unshackled, and traversing the whole world more swiftly than
the solar ray. And this became to them an encouragement; learning as they
did from the facts that no one of present things is to be dreaded. For
when the soul has been genuinely imbued by divine longing and love, it
pays regard to no one of things present; but just as those who are mad
venture themselves against fire and sword and wild beasts and sea and all
else, so these too, maddened with a most noble and most spiritual frenzy,
a frenzy arising from sanity,(3) used to laugh at all things that are seen.
On this account, seeing their teachers bound, they the more exulted, the
more prided themselves; by facts giving to their adversaries a demonstration
that on all sides they were impregnable and indomitable.
9. Then therefore, when matters were in this state,
some of the enemies of Paul, desiring to fan up the war to greater vehemence,
and to make the hatred of the tyrant, which was fell towards him greater,
pretended that they themselves also preached; (and they did preach the
right and sound faith,) for the sake of the doctrine advancing more rapidly:
and this they did, not with the desire to disseminate the faith; but in
order that Nero, having learnt that the preaching was increasing and the
doctrine advancing, might the sooner have Paul led away to execution? There
were therefore two schools; that of Paul's scholars and that of Paul's
enemies; the one preaching out of sincerity, and the others out of love
of contention and the hatred they felt towards Paul. And by way of declaring
this he said, "Some indeed through envy and strife are preaching Christ,"
(pointing out those his enemies) "but some also through good pleasure;"(5)
saying this about his own scholars.(6) Then next about those; "Some indeed
out of contentiousness," (his enemies,) not purely, not soundly, but, "thinking
that they are thereby bringing pressure upon my bonds;(7) but the others
out of love;" (this again about his own brethren ;) "knowing that I am
set(8) 'for the defence of the gospel." For what? Nevertheless, in any
way; whether in pretence or in sincerity, Christ is being announced."(9)
So that vainly and to no purpose is this saying taken in reference to heresies.
For those who then were preaching were not preaching corrupt doctrine;
but sound and right belief. For if they were preaching corrupt doctrine,
and were teaching other things contrary to Paul, what they desired was
certain not to succeed to them. Now what did they desire? That the faith
having grown, and the disciples of Paul having become numerous, it should
rouse Nero to greater hostility. And if they were preaching different doctrines,
they would not have made the disciples of Paul numerous; and by not doing
so,(10) they would not have exasperated the tyrant. He does not therefore
say this--that they were bringing in corrupt doctrines--but that the motive
from which they were preaching, this was corrupt. For it is one thing to
state the pretext(11) of their preaching, and another that their preaching
itself was not sound. For the preaching does not become sound when the
doctrine is laden with deception; and the pretext does not become sound
when the preaching indeed is sound, but they who preach do not preach for
the sake of God, but either with a view of enmity, or with a view to the
favour of others.
10. He therefore does not say this--that they were
bringing in heresies; but that it was not from a right motive, nor through
piety(12) that they were preaching what they did preach. For it was not
that they might increase the gospel that they were doing this; but that
they might wage war against him, and throw him into greater danger--on
this account he accuses them. And see how with exactitude he laid it.(13)
"Thinking," he says, "that they were putting pressure upon my bonds."(14)
He did not say, putting, but "thinking they were putting upon," that is
supposing, by way of pointing out that even if they so supposed,
153
still he himself was not in such a position; but that he even rejoiced
on account of the advance of the preaching. He added therefore saying,
"But in this I both rejoice and will rejoice:"(1) whereas if he held their
doctrines deception, and they were bringing in heresies, Paul could not
possibly rejoice. But since the doctrine was sound and of genuine parentage,
on this account he says, "I rejoice and will rejoice." For what if they(2)
are destroying themselves by doing this out of contentiousness? Still,
even unwillingly, they are strengthening my cause. Seest thou how great
is Paul's power? how he is caught by no one of the devil's machinations?
And not only is he not caught; but also by these themselves he subdues
him. For great indeed is both the devil's craftiness,(3) and the wickedness
of those who minister to him; for under pretence of being of the same mind,
they desired to extinguish the proclamation(4) But "he who seizes the cunning
in their craftiness"(5) did not permit that this should take place then.
By way of declaring this very thing at least Paul said "But the continuing
in the flesh is the more necessary for your sake; and this I confidently
know, that I shall continue and remain in company with you all."(6) For
those men indeed set their mind on casting me out of the present life,
and are ready to endure anything for this object; but God does not permit
it on your account.
11. These things therefore, all of them, remember
with exactness in order that you may be able with all wisdom to correct
those who use the Scriptures without reference to circumstances(7) and
at hap-hazard, and for the destruction of their neighhours. And we shall
be able both to remember what has been said, and to correct others, if
we always betake ourselves to prayers as a refuge, and beseech the God
who gives the word of wisdom to grant both intelligence in hearing, and
a careful and unconquerable guardianship of this spiritual deposit in our
hands. For things which often we have not strength to perform successfully
from our own exertions, these we shall have power to accomplish easily
through prayers. I mean prayers which are persevering. For always and without
intermission it is a duty to pray, both for him who is in affliction, and
him who is in relief from it, and him who is in dangers, and him who is
in prosperity--for him who is in relief and much prosperity, that these
may remain unmoved and without vicissitude, and may never change; and for
him who is in affliction and his many dangers, that he may see some favourable
change brought about to him, and be transported into a calm of consolation.
Art thou in a calm? Then beseech God that this calm may continue settled
to thee. Hast thou seen a storm risen up against thee? Beseech God earnestly(8)
to cause the billow to pass, and to make a calm out of the storm. "Hast
thou been heard? Be heartily thankful for this; because thou hast been
heard. Hast thou not been heard? Persevere(9) in order that thou mayest
be heard. For even if God at any time delay the giving, it is not in hatred
and aversion;(10) but from the desire by the deferring of the giving perpetually
to retain thee with himself; just in the way also that affectionate fathers
do;(11) for they also adroitly manage the perpetual and assiduous attendance
of children who are rather indolent by the delay of the giving. There is
to thee no need of mediators in audience with God; nor of that much canvassing;(12)
nor of the fawning upon others; but even if thou be destitute, even if
bereft of advocacy, alone, by thyself, having called on God for help, thou
wilt in any case succeed.(13) He is not so wont to assent when entreated
by others on our behalf, as by ourselves who are in need; even if we be
laden with ten thousand evil deeds. For if in the case of men, even if
we have come into countless collisions with them, when both at dawn and
at mid-day and in the evening we show ourselves to those who are aggrieved
against us, by the unbroken continuance and the persistent meeting and
interview we easily demolish their enmity--far more in the case of God
would this be effected.
12. But thou art unWorthy. Become worthy by thy
assiduity. For that it both is possible that the unworthy should become
worthy from his assiduity; and that God assents more when called on by
ourselves than by others; and
154
that he often delays the giving, not from the wish that we should be
utterly perplexed, nor to send us out(1) with empty hands; but in order
that he may become the author of greater good things to us--these three
points I will endeavour to make evident by the parable which has to-day
been read to you. The woman of Chanaan had come to Christ praying on behalf
of a daughter possessed by a demon, and crying out with much earnestness,(2)
(it says,(3) "Have pity on me, Lord, my daughter is badly possessed by
a demon." See, the woman of a strange nation, and a barbarian, and outside
of the Jewish commonwealth. For indeed what else (was she) than a dog,
and unworthy of the receiving her request? For "it is not," he says, "good
to take the children's bread, and to give it to the dogs." But, all the
same, from her assiduity, she became worthy. For not only did he admit
her into the nobility of children, dog as she was; but also he sent her
off with that high encomium saying, "O woman great is thy faith; be it
done to thee as thou wilt."(5) Now when the Christ says, "great is thy
faith," seek thou no other demonstration of the greatness of soul which
was in the woman. Seest thou how, from her assiduity the woman, being unworthy,
became worthy? Desirest thou also to learn that we accomplish (our wish)
by calling on him by ourselves more than by others? She cried out, and
the disciples having come to him say, "Let her go away, for she is crying
after us:"(6) and to them he says, "I am not sent, unless to the lost sheep
of the house of Israel."(7) But when she had come to him by herself and
continued crying, and saying, "Yes, Lord, for even the dogs eat from the
table of their masters,"(8) then he granted the favour and says, "Be it
done unto thee as thou wilt." Seest thou how, when they were entreating
him, he repelled; but when she who needed the gift herself cried out, he
assented? For to them he says, "I am not sent, unless to the lost sheep
of the house of Israel;" but to her(9) he said, "Great is thy faith; be
it done unto thee as thou wilt." Again, at the beginning and in the prelude
of her request he answered nothing; but when both once and twice and thrice
she had come to him, then he granted the boon; by the issue making us believe
that he had delayed the giving, not that be might repel her(10) but that
he might display to us all the woman's endurance. For if he had delayed
in order that he might repel her, he would not have granted it even at
the end; but since he was waiting to display to all her spiritual wisdom,
on this accouter he was silent.(11) For if he had granted it immediately
and at the beginning, we should not have known the woman's virtue.(12)
"Let her go"(13) it says, "because she is clamouring behind us." But what
(says) the Christ? "Ye hear a voice, but I see the mind: I know what she
is going to say. I choose not to permit the treasure hidden in her mind
to escape notice; but I am waiting and keeping silence; in order that having
discovered it I may lay it down in publicity, and make it manifest to all.
13. Having therefore learned all these things, even
if we be in sins, and unworthy of receiving, let us not despair; knowing,
that by assiduity of soul we shall be able to become worthy of the request.
Even if we be unaided by advocate and destitute, let us not faint; knowing
that it is a strong advocacy--the coming to God one's self by one's self
with much eagerness. Even if he delay and defer with respect to the giving,
let us not be dispirited; having learned that the putting it off and delay
is a sure proof of caring and love for mankind. If we have thus persuaded
ourselves; and with a soul deeply pained and fervent, and thoroughly roused
purpose; and such as that with which the woman of Chanaan approached, we
too come to him, even if we be dogs; even if we have done anything whatever
dreadful; we shall both rebut(14) our own crimes, and obtain so great liberty
of speech(15) as also to be advocates for others; in the way in which also
this woman of Chanaan not only herself enjoyed liberty of speech and ten
thousand encomiums, but had power to snatch her dear daughter(16) out of
her intolerable sufferings.
155
For nothing--nothing is more powerful than prayer when fervent and genuine. This both disperses present dangers, and rescues from the penalties which take place at that hour.(1) That therefore we may both complete our passage through the present life with ease,(2) and depart thither(3) with confidence, with much zeal and eagerness let us perform this perpetually. For thus shall we be able both to attain the good things which are laid up, and to enjoy those excellent hopes; which God grant that we may all attain; by the grace and loving kindness and compassion of our Lord Jesus Christ--with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, honour, dominion, to the ages of the ages.(4) Amen.
ST. CHRYSOSTOM:
INSTRUCTIONS TO CATECHUMENS
TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION, AND NOTES BY
REV. W. R. W. STEPHENS, M.A.,
PREBENDARY OF CHICHESTER, AND RECTOR OF WOOLBEDING, SUSSEX.
ASSISTED BY
REV. T. P. BRANDRAM, M.A.,
RECTOR OF RUMBOLDSWHYKE, CHICHESTER.
INSTRUCTIONS TO CATECHUMENS.
FIRST INSTRUCTION.
To those about to be illuminated;(1) and for what
reason the layer is said to be of regeneration and not of remission of
sins; and that it is a dangerous thing not only to forswear oneself, but
also to take an oath, even though we swear truly.
1. How delightful and lovable is our band of young
brethren! For brethren I call you, even now before you have been brought
forth, and before your birth I welcome this relationship with you: For
I know, I know dearly, to how great an honour you are about to be led,
and to how great a dignity; and those who are about to receive dignity,
all are wont to honor, even before the dignity is conferred, laying up
for themselves beforehand by their attention good will for the future.
And this also I myself now do. For ye are not about to be led to an empty
dignity, but to an actual kingdom: and not simply to a kingdom, but to
the kingdom of the Heavens itself. Wherefore I beseech and entreat you
that you remember me when you come into that kingdom, and as Joseph said
to the chief butler "Remember me when it shall be well with thee,"(2) this
also I say now to you, do ye remember me when it is well with you. I do
not ask this in return for interpreting your dreams, as he; for I have
not come to interpret dreams for you, but to discourse of matters celestial,
and to convey to you glad tidings of such good things as "eye hath not
seen, and ear hath not heard and which have entered not into the heart
of man, such are the things which God hath prepared for them that love
him."(3) Now Joseph indeed said to that chief butler, "yet three days and
Pharaoh will restore thee to thy chief butlership." But I do not say, yet
three days and ye shall be set to pour out the wine of a tyrant, but yet
thirty days, and not Pharaoh but the king of Heaven shall restore you to
the country which is on high, Jerusalem, which is free--to the city which
is in the heavens; and he said indeed, "Thou shalt give the cup into the
hands of Pharaoh." But I say not that you shall give the cup into the hands
of the king, but that the king shall give the cup into your hand--that
dread cup, full of much power, and more precious than any created thing.
The initiated know the virtue of this cup, and you yourselves shall know
it a little while hence. Remember me, therefore, when you come into that
kingdom, when you receive the royal robe, when you are girt with the purple
dipped in the master's blood, when you will be
160
crowned with the diadem, which has lustre leaping forth from it on all
sides, more brilliant than the rays of the sun. Such are the gifts of the
Bridegroom, greater indeed than your worth, but worthy of his lovingkindness.
Wherefore, I count you blessed already before those
sacred nuptials, and I do not only count you blessed, but I praise your
prudence in that you have not come to your illumination as the most slothful
among men, at your last breath, but already, like prudent servants, prepared
with much goodwill to obey your master, have brought the neck of your soul
with much meekness and readiness beneath the bands of Christ, and have
received His easy yoke, and have taken His light burden. For if the grace
bestowed be the same both for you and for those who are initiated at their
last hour, yet the matter of the intention is not the same, nor yet the
matter of the preparation for the rite. For they indeed receive it on their
bed, but you in the bosom of the Church, which is the common mother of
us all; they indeed with lamentation and weeping, but you rejoicing, and
exceeding glad: they sighing, you giving thanks; they indeed lethargic
with much fever, you filled with much spiritual pleasure; wherefore in
your case all things are in harmony with the gift, but in theirs all are
adverse to it. For there is wailing and much lamentation on the part of
the initiated, and children stand around crying, wife tearing her cheeks,
and dejected friends and tearful servants; the whole aspect Of the house
resembles some wintry and gloomy day. And if thou shalt open the heart
of him who is lying there, thou wilt find it more downcast than are these.
For as winds meeting one another with many a contrary blast, break up the
sea into many parts, so too the thought of the terrors preying upon him
assail the Soul of the sick man, and distract his mind with many anxieties.
Whenever he sees his children, he thinks of their fatherless condition;
whenever he looks from them to his wife, he considers her widowhood; when
he sees the servants, he beholds the desolation of the whole house;
when he comes back to him self, he calls to mind his own present
life, and being about to be torn from it, experiences a great cloud of
despondency. Of such a kind is the soul of him who is about to be initiated.
Then in the midst of its tumult and confusion, the Priest enters, more
formidable than the fever itself, and more distressing than death
to the relatives of the sick man. For the entrance of the Presbyter is
thought to be a greater reason for despair than the voice of the physician
despairing Of his life, and that which suggests eternal life seems
to be a symbol of death. But I have not yet put the finishing stroke to
these ills. For in the midst of relatives raising a tumult and making preparations,
the soul has often taken its flight, leaving the body desolate; and in
many cases, while it was present it was useless, for when it neither recognizes
those who are present, nor hears their voice, nor is able to answer those
words by which it will make that blessed covenant with the common master
of us all, but is as a useless log, or a stone, and he who is about to
be illuminated lies there differing nothing from a corpse, what is the
profit of initiation in a case of such insensibility?
2. For he who is about to approach these holy and
dread mysteries must be awake and alert, must be clean from all cares of
this life, full of much self-restraint, much readiness; he must banish
from his mind every thought foreign to the mysteries, and on all sides
cleanse and prepare his home, as if about to receive the king himself.
Such is the preparation of your mind: such are your thoughts; such the
purpose of your soul. Await therefore a return worthy of this most excellent
decision from God, who overpowers with His recompense those who show forth
obedience to Him. But since it is necessary for his fellow servants to
contribute of their own, then we will contribute of our own; yea rather
not even are these things our own, but these too are our Master's. "For
what hast thou," saith He, "that thou didst not receive? but if thou didst
receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it?"(1)
I wished to say this first of all, why in the world our fathers, passing
by the whole year, settled that the children of the Church should be initiated
at this season; and for what reason, after the instruction from us, removing
your shoes and raiment, unclad and unshod, with but one garment on, they
conduct you to hear the words of the exorcisers. For it is not thoughtlessly
and rashly that they have planned this dress and this season for us. But
both these things have a certain mystic and secret reason. And I wished
to say this to you. But I see that our discourse now constrains us to something
more necessary. For it is necessary to say what baptism is, and for what
reason it enters into our life, and what good things it conveys to us.
But, if you will, let us discourse about the name
which this mystic cleansing bears: for its name is not one, but very many
and various. For this purification is called the layer of regeneration.
"He saved us," he saith, "through the laver of regeneration, and renewing
of the
161
Holy Ghost."(1) It is called also illumination, and this St. Paul again
has called it, "For call to remembrance the former days in which after
ye were illuminated ye endured a great conflict of sufferings;"(2) and
again, "For it is impossible for those who were once illuminated, and have
tasted of the heavenly gift, and then fell away, to renew them again unto
repentance."(3) It is called also, baptism: "For as many of you as were
baptized into Christ did put on Christ."(4) It is called also burial: "For
we were buried" saith he, "with him, through baptism, into death."(5) It
is called circumcision: "In whom ye were also circumcised, with a circumcision
not made with hands, in the putting off of the body of the sins of the
flesh."(6) It is called a cross: "Our old man was crucified with him that
the body of sin might be done away."(7) It is also possible to speak of
other names besides these, but in order that we should not spend our whole
time over the names of this free gift, come, return to the first name,
and lotus finish our discourse by declaring its meaning; but in the meantime,
let us extend our teaching a little further. There is that layer by means
of the baths, common to all men, which is wont to wipe off bodily uncleanness;
and there is the Jewish layer, more honorable than the other, but far inferior
to that of grace; and it too wipes off bodily uncleanness, but not simply
uncleanness of body, since it even reaches to the weak conscience. For
there are many matters, which by nature indeed are not unclean, but which
become unclean from the weakness of the conscience. And as in the ease
of little children, masks, and other bugbears are not in themselves alarming,
but seem to little children to be alarming, by reason of the weakness of
their nature, so it is in the case of those things of which I was speaking;
just as to touch dead bodies is not naturally unclean, but when this comes
into contact with a weak conscience, it makes him who touches them unclean.
For that the thing in question is not unclean naturally, Moses himself
who ordained this law showed, when he bore off the entire corpse of Joseph,
and yet remained clean. On this account Paul also, discoursing to us about
this uncleanness which does not come naturally but by reason of the weakness
of the conscience, speaks somewhat in this way, "Nothing is common of itself
save to him who accounteth anything to be common."(8) Dost thou not see
that uncleanness does not arise from the nature of the thing, but from
the weakness of the reasoning about it? And again: "All things indeed are
clean, howbeit it is evil to that man who eateth with offense."(9) Dost
thou see that it is not to eat, but to eat with offense, that is the cause
of uncleanness?
3. Such is the defilement from which the layer of
the Jews cleansed. But the layer of grace, not such, but the real uncleanness
which has introduced defilement into the soul as well as into the body.
For it does not make those who have touched dead bodies dean, but those
who have set their hand to dead works: and if any man be effeminate, or
a fornicator, or an idolator, or a doer of whatever ill you please, or
if he be full of all the wickedness there is among men: should he fall
into this pool of waters, he comes up again from the divine fountain purer
than the sun's rays. And in order that thou mayest not think that what
is said is mere vain boasting, hear Paul speaking of the power of the layer,
"Be not deceived: neither idolators, nor fornicators, nor adulterers, nor
effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with men, nor covetous, not drunkards,
not revilers, not extortioners shah inherit the kingdom of God."(10) And
what has this to do with what has been spoken? says one, "for prove the
question whether the power of the laver thoroughly cleanses all these things."
Hear therefore what follows: "And such were some of you, but ye were washed,
but ye were sanctified, but ye were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ, and in the spirit of our God." We promise to show you that they
who approach the lover become clean from all fornication: but the word
has shown more, that they have become not only clean, but both holy and
just, for it does not say only "ye were washed," but also "ye were sanctified
and were justified." What could be more strange than this, when without
toil, and exertion, and good works, righteousness is produced? For such
is the lovingkindness of the Divine gift that it makes men just without
this exertion. For if a letter of the Emperor, a few words being added,
sets free those who are liable to countless accusations, and brings others
to the highest honors; much rather will the Holy Spirit of God, who is
able to do all things, free us from all evil and grant us much righteousness,
and fill us with much assurance, and as a spark falling into the wide sea
would straightway be quenched, or would become invisible, being overwhelmed
by the multitude of the waters, so also all human wickedness, when it falls
into the pool of the divine fountain, is more swiftly and easily overwhelmed,
162
and made invisible, than that spark. And for what reason, says one,
if the layer take away all our sins, is it called, not a layer of remission
of sins, nor a laver of cleansing, but a laver of regeneration? Because
it does not simply take away our sins, nor simply cleanse us from our faults,
but so as if we were born again. For it creates and fashions us anew not
forming us again out of earth, but creating us out of another element,
namely, of the nature of water. For it does not simply wipe the vessel
clean, but entirely remoulds it again. For that which is wiped clean, even
if it be cleaned with care, has traces of its former condition, and bears
the remains of its defilement, but that which fails into the new mould,
and is renewed by means of the flames, laying aside all uncleanness, comes
forth from the furnace, and sends forth the same brilliancy with things
newly formed. As therefore any one who takes and recasts a golden statue
which has been tarnished by time, smoke, dust, rust, restores it to us
thoroughly cleansed and glistening: so too this nature of ours, rusted
with the rust of sin, and having gathered much smoke from our faults, and
having lost its beauty, which He had from the beginning bestowed upon it
from himself, God has taken and cast anew, and throwing it into the waters
as into a mould, and instead of fire sending forth the grace of the Spirit,
then brings us forth with much brightness, renewed, and made afresh, to
rival the beams of the sun, having crushed the old man, and having fashioned
a new man, more brilliant than the former.
4. And speaking darkly of this crushing, and this
mystic cleansing, the prophet of old said, "Thou shalt dash them in pieces
like a potter's vessel."(1) For that the word is in reference to the faithful,
what goes before sufficiently shows us, "For thou art my Son," he says,
"to-day have I begotten thee, ask of me and I will give the heathen for
three inheritance, the utmost parts of the earth for thy possession."(2)
Dost thou see how he has made mention of the church of the Gentiles, and
has spoken of the kingdom of Christ extended on all sides? Then he says
again, "Thou shall rule them with a rod of iron;" not grievous, but strong:
"thou shalt break them in pieces like a potter's vessel."(3) Behold then,
the layer is more mystically brought forward. For he does not say earthen
vessels: but vessels of the potter. But, give heed: For earthen vessels
when crushed would not admit of refashioning, on account of the hardness
which was gained by them from the fire. But the fact is that the vessels
of the potter are not earthen, but of clay; wherefore, also, when they
have been distorted, they can easily, by the skill of the artificer, be
brought again to a second shape. When, therefore, God speaks of an irremediable
calamity, he does not say vessels of the potter, but an earthen vessel;
when, for instance, he wished to teach the prophet and the Jews that he
delivered up the city to an irremediable calamity, he bade him take an
earthen wine-vessel, and crush it before all the people, and say, "Thus
shall this city be destroyed, be broken in pieces."(4) But when he wishes
to hold out good hopes to them, he brings the prophet to a pottery, and
does not show him an earthen vessel, but shows him a vessel of clay, which
was in the hands of the potter, falling to the ground: and brings him to
it saying, "If this potter has taken up and remodelled his vessel which
has fallen, shall I not much rather be able to restore you when you have
fallen?"(5) It is possible therefore for God not only to restore those
who are made of clay, through the layer of regeneration, but to bring back
again to their original state, on their careful repentance, those who have
received the power(4) of the Spirit, and have lapsed. But this is not the
time for you to hear words about repentance, rather may the time never
come for you to fall into the need of these remedies, but may you always
remain in preservation of the beauty and the brightness which ye are now
about to receive, unsullied. In order, then, that ye may ever remain thus,
come and let us discourse to you a little about your manner of life. For
in the wrestling schools falls of the athletes are devoid of danger. For
the wrestling is with friends, and they practice all their exercises on
the persons of their teachers. But when the time of the contest has come,
when the lists are open, when the spectators are seated above, when the
president has arrived, it necessarily follows that the combatants, if they
become careless, fall and retire in great disgrace, or if they are in earnest,
win the crowns and the prizes. So then, in your case these thirty days
are like some wrestling school, both for exercise and practice: let us
learn from thence already to get the better of that evil demon. For it
is to contend with him that we have to strip ourselves, with him after
baptism are we to box and fight. Let us learn from thence already his grip,
on what side he is aggressive, on what side he can easily threaten us,
in order that, when the contest comes on, we may not feel strange, nor
become confused, as seeing new forms of wrestling; but having already prac-
163
ticed them amongst ourselves, and having learnt all his methods, may
engage in these forms of wrestling against him with courage. In all ways,
therefore, is he accustomed to threaten us, but especially by means of
the tongue, and the mouth. For there is no organ so convenient for him
for our deception and our destruction as an unchastened tongue and an unchecked
utterance. Hence come many slips on our part: hence many serious accusations
against us. And the ease of these falls through the tongue a certain one
showed, when he said, "Many fell by the sword, but not so many as by the
tongue."(1) Now the gravity of the fall the same person shows us again
when he says: "To slip upon a pavement is better than to slip with the
tongue."(2) And what he speaks of is of this kind. Better it is, says he,
that the body should fall and be crushed, than that such a word should
go forth as destroys the soul; and he does not speak of falls merely; he
also admonishes us that much forethought should be exercised, so that we
should not be tripped up, thus saying "Make a door and bars for thy mouth,"(3)
not that we should prepare doors and bars, but that with much security,
we should shut the tongue off from outrageous words; and again in another
place, after showing that we need influence from above, both as accompanying
and preceding our own effort so as to keep this wild beast within: stretching
forth his hands to God, the prophet said, "Let the lifting up of my hands
be an evening sacrifice, set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth, keep the
door of my lips;" and he who before admonished, himself too(4) says again,
"Who shall set a watch before my mouth, and a seal of wisdom upon my lips?"(5)
Dost thou not see, each one fearing these fails and bewailing them, both
giving advice, and praying that the tongue may have the benefit of much
watchfulness? and for what reason, says one, if this organ brings us such
ruin, did God originally place it within us? Because indeed, it is of great
use, and if we are careful, it is of use only, and brings no ruin. Hear,
for example, what he says who spoke the former words, "Death and life are
in the power of the tongue."(6) And Christ points to the same thing when
he says, "By thy words thou shalt be condemned, and by thy words thou shalt
be justified."(7) For the tongue stands in the midst ready for use on either
hand. "Thou art its master. Thus indeed a sword lies in the midst, and
if thou use it against thine enemies, this organ becomes a means of safety
for thee. But if thou thrust its stroke against thyself, not the nature
of the iron, but thine own transgression becomes the cause of thy slaughter.
Let us then take this view of the tongue. It is a sword lying in the midst;
sharpen it for the purpose of accusing thine own sins. Thrust not the stroke
against thy brother. For this reason God surrounded it with a double fortification;
with the fence of the teeth and the barrier of the lips, that it may not
rashly and without circumspection utter words which are not convenient.
Well, dost thou say it will not endure this? Bridle it therefore within.
Restrain it by means of the teeth, as though giving over its body to these
executioners and making them bite it. For it is better that when it sins
now it should be bitten by the teeth, than one day when it seeks a drop
of water and is parched with heat, to be unable to obtain this consolation.
In many other ways indeed it is wont to sin, by raillery and blasphemy,
by uttering foul words, by slander, swearing, and perjury.
5. But in order that we may not by saying everything
at once to-day, confuse your minds, we put before you one custom, namely,
about the avoidance of oaths, saying this much by way of preface, and speaking
plainly--that if you do not avoid oaths, I say not perjury merely, but
those too which happen in the cause of justice, we shall not further discourse
upon any other subject. For it is monstrous that teachers of letters should
not give a second lesson to their children until they see the former one
fixed well in their memory, but that we, without being able to express
our first lessons clearly, should inculcate others before the first are
completed. For this is nothing else than to pour into a perforated jar.
Give great care, then, that ye silence not our mouth. For this error is
grave, and it is exceedingly grave because it does not seem to be grave,
and on this account I fear it, because no one fears it. On this account
the disease is incurable, because it does not seem to be a disease; but
just as simple speech is not a crime, so neither does this seem to be a
crime, but with much boldness this transgression is committed: and if any
one call it in question, straightway laughter follows, and much ridicule,
not of those who are called in question for their oaths, but of those who
wish to rectify the disease. On this account I largely extend my discourse
about these matters. For I wish to pull up a deep root, and to wipe out
a long-standing evil: I speak not of perjury alone, but even of oaths in
good faith. But so and so, says one, a forbearing man, consecrated to the
priesthood, living in much self-control and piety, takes an oath. Do not
speak to me of this forbearing person, this
164
self-controlled, pious man who is consecrated to the priesthood; but if thou wilt, add that this man is Peter, or Paul, or even an angel descended out of heaven. For not even in such a case do I regard the dignity of their persons. For the law which I read upon oaths, is not that of the servant, but of the King: and when the edicts of a king are read, let every claim of the servants be silent. But if thou art able to say that Christ bade us use oaths, or that Christ did not punish the doing of this, show me, and I am persuaded. But if he forbids it with so much care, and takes so much thought about the matter as to class him who takes an oath with the evil one (for whatsoever is more than these, namely, than yea and nay, saith he, is of the devil),(1) why dost thou bring this person and that person forward? For not because of the carelessness of thy fellow servants, but from the injunctions of his own laws, will God record his vote against thee. I have commanded, he says, thou oughtest to obey, not to shelter thyself behind such and such a person and concern thyself with other persons' evil. Since the great David sinned a grievous sin, is it then safe for us to sin? Tell me: on this account then we ought to make sure of this point, and only to emulate the good works of the saints; and if there is carelessness, and transgression of the law anywhere, we ought to flee from it with great care. For our reckoning is not with our fellow-servants, but with our Master, and to him we shall give account for all done in our life. Let us prepare ourselves therefore for this tribunal. For even if he who transgresses this law be beyond everything revered and great, he shall certainly pay the penalty attaching to the transgression. For God is no respecter of persons. How then and in what way is it possible to flee from this sin? For one ought to show not only that the crime is grievous, but to give counsel how we may escape from it. Hast thou a wife, hast thou a servant, children, friends, acquaintance, neighbors? To all these enjoin caution on these matters. Custom is a grievous thing, terrible to supplant, and hard to guard against, and it often attacks us unwilling and unknowing; therefore in so far as thou knowest the power of custom, to such an extent study to be freed from any evil custom, and transfer thyself to any other most useful one. For as that custom is often able to trip thee up, though thou art careful, and guardest thyself, and takest thought, and consideration, so if thou transferrest thyself to the good custom of abstaining from oaths, thou wilt not be able, either involuntarily or carelessly, to fall into the fault of oaths. For custom is really great and has the power of nature. In order then that we do not continually distress ourselves let us transfer ourselves to another custom, and ask thou each one of thy kindred and acquaintance this favor, that he advise thee and exhort thee to flee from oaths, and reprove thee, when detected in them. For the watch over thee which takes place on their part, is to them too counsel and a suggestion to what is right. For he who reproves another for oaths, will not himself easily fall into this pit. For much sweating is no ordinary pit, not only when it is about little matters but about the greatest. And we, whether buying vegetables, or quarrelling over two farthings, or in a rage with our servants and threatening them, always call upon God as our witness. But a freeman, possessed of some barren dignity, thou wouldest not dare to call upon as witness in the market to such things; but even if thou attemptedst it, thou wilt pay the penalty of thine insolence. But the King of Heaven, the Lord of Angels, when disputing both about purchases and money, and what not, thou draggest in for a testimony. And how can these things be borne? whence then should we escape from this evil custom? After setting those guards of which I spoke round us, let us fix on a specified time to ourselves for amendment, and adding thereto condemnation if, when the time has passed, we have not amended this. How long time will suffice for the purpose? I do not think that they who are very wary, and on the alert, and watchful about their own salvation, should need more than ten days, so as to be altogether free from the evil custom of oaths. But if after ten days we be detected swearing, let us add a penalty due to ourselves, and let us fix upon the greatest punishment and condemnation of the transgression; what then is this condemnation? This I do not fix upon, but will suffer you yourselves to determine the sentence. So we arrange matters in our own case, not only in respect of oaths but in respect of other defects, and fixing a time for ourselves, with most grievous punishments, if at any time we have fallen into them, shall come clean to our Master, and shall escape the fire of hell, and shall stand before the judgment seat of Christ with boldness, to which may we all attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father together with the Holy Spirit for ever and ever: Amen.
165
SECOND INSTRUCTION.
To those about to be illuminated; and concerning
women who adorn themselves with plaiting of hair, and gold, and concerning
those who have used omens, and amulets, and incantations, all which are
foreign to Christianity.
1. I HAVE come to ask first of all for some fruit
in return for the words lately said out of brotherly love to you. For we
do not speak in order that ye should hear simply, but in order that ye
should remember what has been said, and may afford us evidence of this,
by your works. Yea, rather, not us, but, God, who knows the secrets of
the heart. On this account indeed instruction is so called, in order that
even when we are absent, our discourse may instruct your hearts.(1) And
be not surprised if, after an interval of ten days only, we have come asking
for fruit from the seed sown. For in one day it is possible at once to
let the seed fall, and to accomplish the harvest. For strengthened not
by our own power alone, but by the influence which comes from God, we are
summoned to the conflict. Let as many therefore as have received what has
been spoken, and have fulfilled it by their works, remain reaching forth
to the things which are before. But let as many as have not yet arrived
at this good achievement, arrive at it straightway, that they may dispel
the condemnation which arises out of their sloth by their diligence for
the future. For it is possible, it is indeed possible for him who has been
very slothful, by using diligence for the future to recover the whole loss
of the time that is past. Wherefore, He says, "To-day if ye will hear his
voice, harden not your hearts, as in the day of provocation."(2) And this,
He says, exhorting and counselling us; that we should never despair, but
so long as we are here, should have good hopes, and should lay hold on
what is before us, and hasten towards the prize of our high calling of
God. This then let us do, and let us inquire into the names of this great
gift. For as ignorance of the greatness of this dignity makes those who
are honored with it more slothful, so when it is known it renders them
thankful, and makes them more earnest; and anyhow it would be disgraceful
and ridiculous that they who enjoy such glory and honors from God, should
not even know what the names of it are intended to show forth. And why
do I speak about this gift, for if thou wilt consider the common name of
our race, thou wilt receive the greatest instruction and incentive to virtue.
For this name "Man," we do not define according as they who are without
define it, but as the Divine Scripture has bidden us. For a man is not
merely whosoever has hands and feet of a man, nor whosoever is rational
only, but whosoever practices piety and virtue with boldness. Hear, at
least, what he says concerning Job. For in saying that "there was a man
in the land of Ausis,"(3) he does not describe him in those terms in which
they who are without describe him, nor does he say this because he had
two feet and broad nails, but he added the evidences of his piety and said,
"just, true, fearing God, eschewing every evil deed,"(4) showing that this
is a man; even as therefore another says, "Fear God, and keep his commandments,
because this is the whole man."(5) But if the name man affords such a great
incentive to virtue, much rather the term faithful. For thou art called
faithful on this account, because thou hast faith in God, and thyself art
entrusted from Him with righteousness, sanctification, cleansing of soul,
adoption, the kingdom of heaven. He entrusted thee with these, and handed
them over to thee. Thou in turn hast entrusted, and handed over other things
to him, almsgiving, prayers, self-control and every other virtue. And why
do I say almsgiving? If thou givest him even a cup of cold water, thou
shalt not indeed lose this, but even this he keeps with care against that
day, and will restore it with overflowing abundance. For this truly is
wonderful, that he does not keep only that which has been entrusted to
him, but in recompensing it increases it.
This too he has bidden thee do according to thy
power, with what has been entrusted to thee, to extend the holiness which
thou hast received, and to make the righteousness which comes from the
layer brighter, and the gift of grace more radiant; even as therefore Paul
did, increasing all the good things which he
166
received by his subsequent labors, and his zeal, and his diligence.
And look at the carefulness of God; neither did he give the whole to thee
then, nor withhold the whole, but gave part, and promised part. And for
what reason did he not give the whole then? In order that thou mightest
show thy faith about Him, believing, on his promise alone, in what was
not yet given. And for what reason again did he not there dispense the
whole, but did give the grace of the Spirit, and righteousness and sanctification?
In order that he might lighten thy labors for thee, and by what has been
already given may also put thee in good hope for that which is to come.
On this account, too, thou art about to be called newly-enlightened, because
thy light is ever new, if thou wilt, and is never quenched. For this light
of day, whether we will or no, the night succeeds, but darkness knows not
that light's ray. "For the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness
apprehended it not."(1) Not so bright at least is the world, when the
sunbeams come forth, as the soul shines and becomes brighter when it has
received grace from the Spirit and learns more exactly the nature of the
case. For when night prevails, and there is darkness, often a man has seen
a coil of rope and has thought it was a serpent, and has fled from an approaching
friend as from an enemy, and being aware of some noise, has become very
much alarmed; but when the day has come, nothing of this sort could happen,
but all appears just as it really is; which thing also occurs in the case
of our soul. For when grace has come, and driven away the darkness of the
understanding, we learn the exact nature of things, and what was before
dreadful to us becomes contemptible. For we no longer fear death, after
learning exactly, from this sacred initiation, that death is not death,
but a sleep and a seasonable slumber; nor poverty nor disease, nor any
other such thing, knowing that we are on our way to a better life, undefiled
and incorruptible, and free from all such vicissitudes.
2. Let us not therefore remain craving after the
things of this life, neither after the luxury of the table, or costliness
of raiment. For thou hast the most excellent of raiment, thou hast a spiritual;
table thou hast the glory from on high, and Christ is become to thee all
things, thy table, thy raiment, thy home, thy head, thy stem. "For as many
of you as were baptized into Christ, did put on Christ."(2) See how he
has become raiment for thee. Dost thou wish to learn how he becomes a table
for thee? "He who eateth me," says He, "as I live because of the Father,
he also shall live because of me;"(3) and that he becometh a home for thee,
"he that eateth my flesh abideth in me, and I in him;(4) and that He is
a stem He says again, "I am the vine, ye the branches,"(5) and that he
is brother, and friend, and bridegroom, "I no longer call you servants:
for ye are my friends;"(6) and Paul again, "I espoused you to one husband,
that I might present you as a pure virgin to Christ;"(7) and again, "That
he might be the first-born among many brethren;"(8) and we become not his
brethren only, but also his children, "For behold," he says, "I and the
children which God has given me"(9) and not this only, but His members,
and His body. For as if what has been said were not enough to show forth
the love and the good will which He has shown forth towards us, He has
added another thing greater and nearer still, caring himself besides, our
head. Knowing all these matters, beloved, requite thy benefactor by the
best conversation, and considering the greatness of the sacrifice, adorn
the members of thy body; consider what thou receivest in thine hand, and
never suffer it to strike any one, nor shame what has been honored with
so great a gift by the sin of a blow. Consider what thou receivest in thine
hand, and keep it clean from all covetousness and extortion; think that
thou dost not receive this in thy hand, but also puttest it to thy mouth,
and guard thy tongue in purity from base and insolent words, blasphemy,
perjury, and all other such things. For it is disastrous that what is ministered
to by such most dread mysteries, and has been dyed red with such blood,
and has become a golden sword, should be perverted to purposes of raillery,
and insult, and buffoonery. Reverence the honor with which God has honoured
it, and bring it not down to the vileness of sin, but having reflected
again that after the hand and the tongue, the heart receives this dread
mystery, do not ever weave a plot against thy neighbor, but keep thy thoughts
pure from all evil. Thus thou shall be able to keep thine eyes too, and
thy hearing safe. For is it not monstrous, after this mystic voice is borne
from heaven--I mean the voice of the Cherubim--to defile thy hearing with
lewd songs,, and dissolute melodies? and does it not deserve the utmost
punishment if, with the same eyes with which thou lookest upon the unspeakable
and dread mysteries, thou lookest upon harlots, and dost commit adultery
in thy heart. Thou art called to a marriage, beloved: enter not in clad
in sordid raiment, but take a robe suitable to the
167
marriage. For if when men are called to a material marriage, though
they be poorer than all others, they often possess themselves of or buy
clean raiment, and so go to meet those who called them. Do thou too who
hast been called to a spiritual marriage, and to a royal banquet, consider
what kind of raiment it would be right for thee to buy, but rather there
is not even need to purchase, yea he himself who calls thee gives it thee
gratis, in order that thou mayest not be able to plead poverty in excuse.
Keep, therefore, the raiment which thou receivedst. For if thou losest
it, thou wilt not be able to use it henceforth, or to buy it. For this
kind of raiment is nowhere sold. Hast thou heard how those who were initiated,
in old time, groaned, and beat their breasts, their conscience thereupon
exciting them? Beware then, beloved, that thou do not at any time suffer
like this. But how wilt thou not suffer, if thou dost not cast off the
wicked habit of evil men? For this reason I said before, and speak now
and will not cease speaking, if any has not rectified the defects in his
morals, nor furnished himself with easily acquired virtue, let him not
be baptized. For the laver is able to remit former sins, but there is no
little fear, and no ordinary danger lest we return to them, and our remedy
become a wound. For by how much greater the grace is, by so much is the
punishment more for those who sin after these things.
3. In order, therefore, that we return not to our
former vomit, let us henceforward discipline ourselves. For that we must
repent beforehand, and desist from our former evil, and so come forward
for grace, hear what John says, and what the leader of the apostles says
to those who are about to be baptized. For the one says, "Bring forth fruit
worthy of repentance, and begin not to say within yourselves, we have Abraham
to our Father;"(1) and the other says again to those who question him,
"Repent ye and be baptized every one of you in the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ."(2) Now he who repents, no longer touches the same matters of which
he repented. On this account, also, we are bidden to say, "I renounce thee,
Satan," in order that we may never more return to him? As therefore happens
in the case of painters from life, so let it happen in your case. For they,
arranging their boards, and tracing white lines upon them, and sketching
the royal likeness in outline, before they apply the actual colors, rub
out some lines, and change some for others, rectifying mistakes, and altering
what is amiss with all freedom. But when they put on the coloring for good,
it is no longer in their power to rub out again, and to change one thing
for another, since they injure the beauty of the portrait, and the result
becomes an eyesore. Consider that thy soul is the portrait; before therefore
the true coloring of the spirit comes, wipe out habits which have wrongly
been implanted in thee, whether swearing, or falsehood, or insolence, or
base talking, or jesting, or whatever else thou hair a habit of doing of
things unlawful. Away with the habit, in order that thou mayest not return
to it, after baptism. The layer causes the sins to disappear. Correct thy
habits, so that when the colors are applied, and the royal likeness is
brought out, thou mayest no more wipe them out in the future; and add damage
and scars to the beauty which has been given thee by God.(4) Restrain therefore
anger, extinguish passion. Be not thou vexed, be sympathizing, be not exasperated,
nor say, "I have been injured in regard to my soul." No one is injured
in regard to the soul if we do not injure ourselves in regard to the soul;
and how this is, I now say. Has any one taken away thy substance? He has
not injured thee in regard to thy soul, but thy money. But if thou cherish
ill-will against him, thou hast injured thyself in regard to thy soul.
For the money taken away has wrought thee no damage, nay has even been
profitable, but thou by not dismissing thine anger wilt give account in
the other world for this cherishing of ill-will. Has any one reviled thee
and insulted thee. He has in no way injured thy soul, and not even thy
body. Hast thou reviled in return and insulted? Thou hast injured thyself
in regard to thy soul, for for the words which thou hast Said thou art
about to render account there; and this I wish you to know chiefly of all,
that the Christian, and faithful man, no one is able to injure in regard
to the soul, not even the devil himself; and not only is this wonderful,
that God hath made us inaccessible to all his designs, but that he has
constituted us fit for the practice of virtue, and there is no hinderance,
if we will, even though we be poor, weak in body, outcast, nameless, bondservants.
For neither poverty, nor infirmity, nor deformity of body, nor servitude,
nor any other of such things could ever become a hinderance to virtue;
and why do I say, poor, and a bondservant,
168
and nameless? Even if thou art a prisoner, not even this would be ever
any hinderance to thee as regards virtue. And how this is I proceed to
say. Has any of thy household grieved thee and provoked thee? dismiss thy
wrath against him. Have bonds, and poverty, and obscurity been any hinderance
to thee in this respect? and why do I say hinderance? They have both helped
and contributed to restrain pride. Hast thou seen another prospering?
do not envy him. For not even in this case is poverty a bar. Again, whenever
thou needest to pray, do so with a sober and watchful mind, and nothing
shall be a bar even in that case. Show all meekness, forbearance, self-restraint,
gravity. For these things need no external helps. And this especially is
the chief point about virtue, that it has no necessity for wealth, power,
glory, nor anything of that kind, but of a sanctified soul alone, and it
seeks for nothing more. And behold, also, the same thing happening in respect
of grace. For if any one be lame, if he has had his eyes put out, if he
be maimed in body, if he has fallen into the last extremity of weakness,
grace is not hindered from coming by any of these things. For it only seeks
a soul receiving it with readiness, and all these external things it passes
over. For in the case of worldly soldiers, those who are about to enlist
them for the army seek for stature of body and healthy condition, and it
is not only necessary that he who is about to become a soldier should have
these alone, but he must also be free. For if anybody be a slave, he is
rejected. But the King of Heaven seeks for nothing of this kind, but receives
slaves into his army, and aged people, and the languid in limb, and is
not ashamed. What is more merciful than this? What could be more kind?
For he seeks for what is in our own power, but they seek for what is not
in our power. For to be a slave or free is not our doing. To be tall, again,
or short is not in our own power, or to be aged, or well grown, and such
like. But to be forbearing and kind, and so forth, are matters of our own
choice; and God demands of us only those things of which we have control.
And quite reasonably. For He does not call Us to grace because of his own
need, but because of doing us kindness; but kings, because of services
required by them; and they carry men off to an outward and material warfare,
but He to a spiritual combat; and it is not only in the case of heathen
wars, but in the case of the games also that one may see the same analogy.
For they who are about to be brought into the theatre, do not descend to
the contest until the herald himself takes them beneath the gaze of all,
and leads them round, shouting out and saying, "Has any one a charge against
this person?" although in that case the struggle is not concerned with
the soul, but with the body. Wherefore then dost thou demand proofs of
nobleness? But in this case there is nothing of the kind, but all is different,
our contest not consisting of hand locked in hand, but in philosophy of
soul, and excellence of mind. The president of our conflicts does the opposite.
For he does not take us, and lead us round and say, "Has any one a charge
against this man?" but cries out, "Though all men, though demons, stand
up with the devil and accuse him of extreme and unspeakable crimes, I reject
him not, nor abhor him, but removing him from his accusers, and freeing
him from his wickedness, thus I bring him to the contest. And this is very
reasonable. For there indeed the president contributes nothing towards
the victory, in the case of the combatants, but stands still in the midst.
But here, the President of the contests for holiness becomes a fellow-combatant,
and helper, sharing with them the conflict against the devil.
4. And not only is this the wonderful thing that
he remits our sins, but that he not even reveals them nor makes them manifest
and patent, nor compels us to come forward into the midst, and to tell
out our errors, but bids us make our defense to him alone, and to confess
ourselves to him. And yet among secular judges, if any tell any of the
robbers or grave-riflers, when they are arrested, to tell their errors
and be quit of their punishment, they would accede to this with all readiness,
despising the shame through desire of safety. But in this case there is
nothing of this kind, but he both remits the sins, nor compels us to marshal
them in array before any spectators. But one thing alone he seeks, that
he who enjoys this remission should learn the greatness of the gift. How
is it not, therefore, absurd that in case where he does us service, he
should be content with our testimony only, but in those where we serve
him we seek for others as witnesses, and do a thing for ostentation's sake?
While we wonder then at his kindliness, let us show forth our doings, and
before all others let us curb the vehemence of our tongue, and not always
be giving utterance. "For in the multitude of words there wanteth not transgression."(1)
If indeed then thou hast anything useful to say, open thy lips. But if
there be nothing necessary for thee to say, be silent, for it is
better. Art thou a handicraftsman? as thou sittest at work, sing psalms.
Dost thou not wish to sing with thy mouth? do this in thine heart; a psalm
is a great com-
169
panion. In this case thou shall undergo nothing serious, but shalt be
able to sit in thy workshop as in a monastery. For not suitableness of
place, but strictness of morals will afford us quiet. Paul, at least, pursuing
his trade in a workshop suffered no injury to his own virtue.(1) Do not
thou therefore say, How can I, being a handicraftsman and a poor man, be
a philosopher? This is indeed the very reason why thou mayest be a philosopher.
For poverty is far more conducive to piety for us than wealth, and work
than idleness; since wealth is even a hinderance to those who do not take
heed. For when it is needful to dismiss anger, to extinguish envy, to curb
passion, to offer prayer, to exhibit forbearance and meekness, kindliness
and charity, when would poverty be a bar? For it is not possible by spending
money to accomplish these things, but by exhibiting a fight disposition;
almsgiving especially needs money, but even it shines forth in greater
degree through poverty. For she who spent the two mites was poorer than
all men, and yet surpassed all.(2) Let us not then consider wealth to be
anything great, nor gold to be better than clay. For the value of material
things is not owing to their nature, but to our estimate of them. For if
any one would inquire carefully, iron is much more necessary than gold.
For the one contributes to no need of our life, but the other has furnished
us with the greater part of our needs, ministering to countless arts; and
why do I speak of a comparison between gold and iron? For these stones(3)
are more necessary than precious stones. For of those nothing serviceable
could be made, but out of these, houses and walls and cities are erected.
But do thou show me what gain could be derived from these pearls, rather
what harm would not happen? For in order that thou mayest wear one pearl
drop, countless poor people are pinched with hunger. What excuse wilt thou
hit upon? what pardon?
Dost thou wish to adorn thy face? Do so not with
pearls, but with modesty, and dignity. So thy countenance will be more
full of grace in the eyes of thy husband. For the other kind of adorning
is wont to plunge him into a suspicion of jealousy, and into enmity, quarrelsomeness
and strife, for nothing is more annoying than a face which is suspected.
But the ornament of compassion and modesty casts out all evil suspicion,
and will draw thy partner to thee more strongly than any bond. For natural
beauty does not impart such comeliness to the face as does the disposition
of him who beholds it, and nothing is so wont to produce that disposition
as modesty and dignity; so that if any woman be comely, and her husband
be ill affected towards her, she appears to him the most worthless of all
women; and if she do not happen to be fair of face, but her husband be
well affected towards her, she appears more comely than all. For sentence
is given not according to the nature of what is beheld, but according to
the disposition of the beholders. Adorn thy face then with modesty, dignity,
pity, lovingkindness, charity, affection for thy husband, forbearance,
meekness, endurance of ill. These are the tints of virtue. By means of
these thou wilt attract angels not human beings to be thy lovers. By means
of these thou hast God to commend thee, and when God receives thee, he
will certainly win over thy husband for thee. For if the wisdom of a man
illuminates his countenance,(4) much more does the virtue of a woman illuminate
her face; and if thou considerest this to be a great ornament, tell me
what will be the advantage of the pearls in that day? But why is it necessary
to speak of that day, since it is possible to show all this from what happens
now. When, then, they who thought fit to revile the emperor were dragged
to the judgment hall, and were in danger of extreme measures being taken,
then the mothers, and the wives, laying aside their necklaces, and their
golden ornaments, and pearls, and all adornment, and golden raiment, wearing
a simple and mean dress, and besprinkled with ashes, prostrated themselves
before the doors of the judgment hall and thus won over the judges; and
if in the case of these earthly courts of justice, the golden ornaments,
and the pearls, and the variegated dress would have been a snare and a
betrayal, but forbearance, and meekness, and ashes, and tears, and mean
garments persuaded the judge, much more would this take place in the case
of that impartial and dread tribunal. For what reason wilt thou be able
to state, what defense, when the Master lays these pearls to thy charge,
and brings the poor who have perished with hunger into the midst? On this
account Paul said, "not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly
raiment."(5) For therein would be a snare. And if we were to enjoy them
continually, yet we shall lay them aside with death. But arising out of
virtue there is all security, and no vicissitude and changeableness, but
here it makes us more secure, and also accompanies us there. Dost thou
wish to possess pearls, and never to lay aside this wealth ? Take off all
ornament and place it in the hands
170
of Christ through the poor. He will keep all thy wealth for thee, when
He shall raise up thy body with much radiancy. Then He shall invest thee
with better wealth and greater ornament, since this present is mean and
absurd. Consider then whom thou wishest to please, and for whose sake thou
puttest on this ornament, not in order that the ropemaker and the coppersmith
and the huckster may admire. Then art thou not ashamed, nor blushest thou
when thou showest thyself to them? doing all on their account whom thou
dost not consider worthy of accosting.
How then wilt thou laugh this fancy to scorn? If
thou wilt remember that word, which thou sentest forth when thou wert initiated,
I renounce thee, Satan, and thy pomp, and thy service. For the frenzy about
pearls is pomp of Satan. For thou didst receive gold not in order that
thou mightest bind it on to thy body, but in order that thou mightest release
and nourish the poor. Say therefore constantly, I renounce thee, Satan.
Nothing is more safe than this word if we shall prove it by our deeds.
5. This I think it right that you who are about
to be initiated should learn. For this word is a covenant with the
Master. And just as we, when we buy slaves, first ask those who
are being sold if they are willing to be our servants: So also does Christ.
When He is about to receive thee into service, He first asks if thou wishest
to leave that cruel and relentless tyrant, and He receives covenants from
thee. For his service is not forced upon thee. And see the lovingkindness
of God. For we, before we put down the price, ask those who are being sold,
and when we have learned that they are willing, then we put down
the price. But Christ not so, but He even put down the price for us all;
his precious blood. For, He says, ye were bought with a price.(1) Notwithstanding,
not even then does He compel those who are unwilling, to serve him; but
except thou hast grace, He says, and of thine own accord and will determinest
to enroll thyself under my rule, I do not compel, nor force thee. And we
should not have chosen to buy wicked slaves. But if we should at any time
have so chosen, we buy them with a perverted choice, and put down a corresponding
price for them. But Christ, buying ungrateful and lawless slaves, put down
the price of a servant of first quality, nay rather much more, and so much
greater that neither speech nor thought can set forth its greatness. For
neither giving heaven, nor earth, nor sea, but giving up that which is
more valuable than all these, his own blood, thus He bought us. And after
all these things, he does not require of us witnesses, or registration,
but is content with the single word, if thou sayest it from thy heart.
"I renounce thee, Satan, and thy pomp," has included all. Let us then say
this, "I renounce thee, Satan," as men who are about in that world at that
day to have that word demanded of them, and let us keep it in order that
we may then return this deposit safe. But Satan's pomps are theatres, and
the circus, and all sin, and observance of days, and incantations and omens.
"And what are omens?" says one. Often when going
forth from his own house he has seen a one-eyed or lame man, and has shunned
him as an omen. This is a pomp of Satan. For meeting the man does not make
the day turn out ill, but to live in sin. When thou goest forth, then,
beware of one thing--that sin does not meet thee. For this it is which
trips us up. And without this the devil will be able to do us no harm.
What sayest thou? Thou seest a man, and shunnest him as an omen, and dost
not see the snare of the devil, how he sets thee at war with him who has
done thee no wrong, how he makes thee the enemy of thy brother on no just
pretext; but God has bidden us love our enemies; but thou art turned away
from him who did thee no wrong, having nothing to charge him with, and
dost thou not consider how great is the absurdity, how great the shame,
rather how great is the danger? Can I speak of anything more absurd? I
am ashamed, indeed, and I blush: But for your salvation's sake, I am, I
am compelled to speak of it. If a virgin meet him he says the day becomes
unsuccessful; but if a harlot meet him, it is propitious, and profitable,
and full of much business; are you ashamed? and do you smite your foreheads,
and bend to the ground? But do not this on account of the words which I
have spoken, but of the deeds which have been done. See then, in this case,
how the devil hid his snare, in order that we might turn away from the
modest, but salute and be friendly to the unchaste. For since he has heard
Christ saying that "He who looketh on a woman to desire her, has already
committed adultery with her,"(2) and has seen many get the better of unchastity,
wishing by another wrong to cast them again into sin, by this superstitious
observance he gladly persuades them to pay attention to whorish women.
And what is one to say about them who use charms
and amulets, and encircle their heads and feet with golden coins of Alexander
171
of Macedon. Are these our hopes, tell me, that after the cross and death of our Master, we should place our hopes of salvation on an image of a Greek king? Dost thou not know what great result the cross has achieved? It has abolished death, has extinguished sin, has made Hades useless, has undone the power of the devil, and is it not worth trusting for the health of the body? It has raised up the whole world, and dost thou not take courage in it? And what wouldest thou be worthy to suffer, tell me? Thou dost not only have amulets always with thee, but incantations bringing drunken and half-witted old women into thine house, and art thou not ashamed, and dost thou not blush, after so great philosophy, to be terrified at such things? and there is a graver thing than this error. For when we deliver these exhortations, and lead them away, thinking that they defend themselves, they say, that the woman is a Christian who makes these incantations, and utters nothing else than the name of God. On this account I especially hate and turn away from her, because she makes use of the name of God, with a view to ribaldry. For even the demons uttered the name of God, but still they were demons, and thus they used to say to Christ, "We know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God,"(1) and notwithstanding, he rebuked them, and drave them away. On this account, then, I beseech you to cleanse yourselves from this error, and to keep hold of this word as a staff; and just as without sandals, and cloak, no one of you would choose to go down to the market-place, so without this word never enter the market-place, but when thou art about to pass over the threshold of the gateway, say this word first: I leave thy ranks, Satan, and thy pomp, and thy service, and I join the ranks of Christ. And never go forth without this word. This shall be a staff to thee, this thine armor, this an impregnable fortress, and accompany this word with the sign of the cross on thy forehead. For thus not only a man who meets you, but even the devil himself, will be unable to hurt you at all, when he sees thee everywhere appearing with these weapons; and discipline thyself by these means henceforth, in order that when thou receivest the seal(2) thou mayest be a well-equipped soldier, and planting thy trophy against the devil, may receive the crown of righteousness, which may it be the lot of us all to obtain, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father and to the Holy Spirit for ever and ever--Amen.
THREE HOMILIES CONCERNING THE POWER
OF DEMONS.
INTRODUCTION BY REV. W. R. W. STEPHENS.
The three following Homilies are closely connected in subject,
and the opening sentence of the third clearly proves that it was delivered
two days after the second; but it is impossible to say whether that which
is placed first was really delivered before the other two. It must however
have been spoken at Antioch, since Chrysostom refers at the beginning of
it to his sermons "on the obscurity of prophecies" in which passages occur
which clearly imply that he was not then a Bishop. The second of the three
homilies here translated was delivered in the presence of a Bishop, as
is clearly indicated by the commencement, and as the third was as already
mentioned delivered two days after the second we may safely affirm that
they were all spoken at Antioch when Chrysostom was a presbyter there under
the Episcopate of Flavian.
They deal with errors against which Chrysostom throughout
his life most strenuously contended. In an age of great depravity there
seem to have been many who tried to excuse the weak resistance which they
made to evil, both in themselves, and in others, by maintaining that the
world was abandoned to the dominion of devils, or to the irresistible course
of fate. To counteract the disastrous effects of such philosophy, which
surrendered man to the current of his passions, it was necessary to insist
very boldly and resolutely on the essential freedom of the will, on moral
responsibility, and the duty of vigorous exertion in resisting temptation.
And Chrysostom did this to an extent which some thought carried him perilously
near the errors of the Pelagian heresy. No one however has described in
more forcible language the powerful hold of sin upon human nature, and
the insufficiency of man to shake it off without the assistance of divine
grace. What he does most earnestly combat, both in the following homilies
and very many others, is the doctrine that evil was an original integral
part of our nature: he maintains that it is not a substantial inherent
force (<greek>dunamis</greek> <greek>enupostats</greek>). If
evil was a part of our nature in this sense it would be no more reprehensible
than natural appetites and affections. We do not try to alter that which
is by nature (<greek>fusei</greek>) sin therefore is not by nature,
because by means of education, laws, and punishments we do seek to alter
that. Sin comes through defect in the moral purpose (<greek>proairesis</greek>).
Our first parents fell through indolence of moral purpose (<greek>raqumia</greek>)
and this is the principal cause of sin now. They marked out a path which
has been trodden ever since: the force of will has been weakened in all
their posterity: so that though evil is not an inherent part of man's nature
yet he is readily inclined to it (<greek>oxurrephs</greek> <greek>pror</greek>
<greek>kakian</greek>); and this tendency must be perpetually counteracted
by vigorous exertion, and a bracing up of the moral purpose, with the aid
of divine grace. Profoundly convinced therefore on the one hand of a strong
and universal tendency to sin, but on the other of an essential freedom
of the will, Chrysostom sounds alternately the note of warning and encouragement,--warning
against
178
that weakness, indolence, languor of moral purpose which occasions a fall,--encouragement to use to the full all the powers with which man is gifted, in reliance on God's forbearance and love, and on His willingness to help those who do not despair of themselves. Despair is the devil's most potent instrument for effecting the ruin of man; for it is that which prevents him from rising again after he has fallen. St. Paul repented, and, not despairing, became equal to angels: Judas repenting, but despairing, rushed into perdition.
HOMILY I.
AGAINST THOSE WHO SAY THAT DEMONS GOVERN HUMAN AFFAIRS, AND WHO ARE DISPLEASED AT THE CHASTISEMENT OF GOD, AND ARE OFFENDED AT THE PROSPERITY OF THE WICKED AND THE HARDSHIPS OF THE JUST.
I indeed was hoping, that from the continuance of my discourse, you would have had a surfeit of my words: but I see that the contrary is happening: that no surfeit is taking place from this continuance, but that your desire is increased, that an addition is made not to your satiety but to your pleasure, that the same thing is happening which the winebibbers at heathen drinking-bouts experience; for they, the more they pour down unmixed wine, so much the rather they kindle their thirst, and in your case the more teaching we inculcate, so much the rather do we kindle your desire, we make your longing greater, your love for it the stronger. On this account, although I am conscious of extreme poverty, I do not cease to imitate the ostentatious among entertainers, both setting before you my table continuously, and placing on it the cup of my teaching, filled full: for I see that after having drunk it all, you retire again thirsting. And this indeed has become evident during the whole time, but especially since the last Lord's Day: For that ye partake of the divine oracles insatiably, that day particularly shewed: whereon I discoursed about the unlawfulness of speaking ill one of another, when I furnished you with a sure subject for self accusation, suggesting that you should speak ill of your own sins, but should not busy yourselves about those of other people: when I brought forward the Saints as accusing themselves indeed, but sparing others: Paul saying I am the chief of sinners, and that God had compassion on him who was a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious,(1) and calling himself one born out of due time, and not even thinking himself worthy of the title of Apostle:(2) Peter saying "Depart from me because I am a sinful man:"(3) Matthew styling himself a publican even in the days of his Apostleship:(4) David crying out and saying "My iniquities have gone over my head, and as a heavy burden have been burdensome to me:"(5) and Isaiah lamenting and bewailing "I am unclean, and have unclean lips:"(6) The three children in the furnace of fire, confessing and saying that they have sinned and transgressed, and have not kept the commandments of God. Daniel again makes the same lamentation. When after the enumeration of these Saints, I called their accusers flies, and introduced the right reason for the comparison, saying, that just as they fasten themselves upon the wounds of others, so also the accusers bite at other people's sins, collecting disease therefrom for their acquaintance, and those who do the opposite, I designated bees, not gathering together diseases, but building honeycombs with the greatest devotion, and so flying to the meadow of the virtue of the Saint: Then accordingly--then ye shewed your insatiable longing. For when my discourse was extended to some length, yea to an interminable length, such as never was, many indeed expected that your eagerness would be quenched by the abundance of what was said. But the contrary happened. For your heart was the rather warmed, your desire was the rather kindled: and whence was this evident? The acclamations at least which took place at the end were greater, and the shouts more clear, and the same thing took place as at the forge. For as there at the beginning indeed the light of the fire is not very clear, but when the flame has caught the whole of the wood that is laid upon it, it is raised to a great height; so also accordingly this happened on the occasion of that day. At the beginning indeed, this assembly was not vehemently stirred by me. But when the discourse was extended to some length, and gradually took hold of all the subjects and the teaching spread more widely, then accordingly, then the desire
179
of listening was kindled in you, and the applause broke forth, more
vehemently. On this account, although I had been prepared to say less than
was spoken, I then exceeded the measure, nay rather I never exceeded the
measure. For I am wont to measure the amount of the teaching not by the
multitude of the words spoken, but by the disposition of the audience.
For he who meets with a disgusted audience, even if he abridge his teaching,
seems to be vexatious, but he who meets with eager, and wide-awake, and
attentive hearers, though he extend his discourse to some length, not even
thus fulfils their desire.
But since it happens that there are in so great
a congregation, certain weak ones, unable to follow the length of the discourse,
I wish to suggest this to them, that they should hear and receive, as much
as they can, and having received enough should retire: There is no one
who forbids, or compels them to remain beyond their natural strength. Let
them not however necessitate the abridgement of the discourse before the
time and the proper hours. Thou art replete, but thy brother still hungers.
Thou art drunk with the multitude of the things spoken, but thy brother
is still thirsty. Let him then not distress thy weakness, compelling thee
to receive more than thine own power allows: nor do thou vex his zeal by
preventing him from receiving all that he can take in.
2. This also happens at secular feasts. Some indeed
are more quickly satisfied, some more tardily, and neither do these blame
those, nor do they condemn these. But there indeed to withdraw more quickly
is praiseworthy, but here to withdraw more quickly is not praiseworthy,
but excusable. There to leave off more slowly, is culpable and faulty,
here to withdraw more tardily, brings the greatest commendation, and good
report. Pray why is this? Because there indeed the tardiness arises from
greediness, but here the endurance, and patience are made up of spiritual
desire and divine longing.
But enough of preamble. And we will proceed hereupon
to that business which remained over to us from that day. What then was
that which was then spoken? that all men had one speech, just as also they
had one nature, and no one was different in speech, or in tongue. Whence
then comes so great a distinction in speech? From the carelessness of those
who received the gift--of both of which matters we then spoke, shewing
both the lovingkindness of the Master through this unity of speech, and
the senselessness of the servants through their distinction of speech.
For he indeed foreseeing that we should waste the gift nevertheless gave
it: and they to whom it was entrusted, waxed evil over their charge This
is then one way of explanation, not that God wrested the gift from us but
that we wasted what had been given. Then next after that, that we received
afterwards gifts greater than those lost. In place of temporal toil he
honoured us with eternal life. In place of thorns and thistles he prepared
the fruit of the Spirit to grow in our souls. Nothing was more insignificant
than man, and nothing became more honoured than man. He was the last item
of the reasonable creation. But the feet became the head, and by means
of the first-fruits, were raised to the royal throne. For just as some
generous and opulent man who has seen some one escape from shipwreck and
only able to save his bare body from the waves, cradles him in his hands,
and casts about him a bright garment, and conducts him to the highest honours;
so also God has done in the case of our nature. Man cast aside all that
he had, his fight to speak freely, his communion with God, his sojourn
in Paradise, his unclouded life, and as from a shipwreck, went forth bare.
But God received him and straightway clothed him, and taking him by the
hand gradually conducted him to heaven. And yet the shipwreck was quite
unpardonable. For this tempest was due entirely not to the force of the
winds, but to the carelessness of the sailor.
And yet God did not look at this, but had compassion
for the magnitude of the calamity, and him who had suffered shipwreck in
harbour, he received as lovingly as if he had undergone this in the midst
of the open sea. For to fall in Paradise is to undergo shipwreck in harbour.
Why so? Because when no sadness, or care, or labours, or toil, or countless
waves of desire assaulted our nature, it was upset and it fell. And as
the miscreants who sail the sea, often bore through the ship with a small
iron tool, and let in the whole sea to the ship from below; so accordingly
then, when the Devil saw the ship of Adam, that is his soul, full of many
good things, he came and bored it through with his mere voice, as with
some small iron tool, and emptied him of all his wealth and sank the ship
itself. But God made the gain greater than the loss, and brought our nature
to the royal throne. Wherefore Paul cries out and says, "He raised us up
with him, and made us to sit with him, on his right hand in the heavenly
places, that in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of
his grace in kindness towards us."(1) What dost thou say?
180
the thing has already happened and has an end, and dost thou say "in
order that he might shew to the ages to come?" Has he not shewn? He has
already shewn, but not to all men, but to me who am faithful, but the unbelieving
has not yet seen the wonder. But then, in that day the whole nature of
man will come forward, and will wonder at that which has been done, but
especially will it be more manifest to us. For we believe even now; but
hearing and sight do not put a wonder before us in the same way, but just
as in the case of kings when we hear of the purple robe, and the diadem,
and the golden raiment, and the royal throne, we wonder indeed, but experience
this in greater degree when the curtains are drawn aside and we see him
seated on the lofty judgment seat. So also in the case of the Only-Begotten,
when we see the curtains of heaven drawn aside, and the King of angels
descending thence, and with his bodyguard of the heavenly hosts, then we
perceive the wonder to be greater from our sight of it. For consider with
me what it is to see our nature borne upon the Cherubim, and the whole
angelic force surrounding it.
3. But look, with me, too, at the wisdom of Paul,
how many expressions he seeks for, so as to present to us the lovingkindness
of God. For he did not speak merely the word grace, nor riches, but what
did he say? "The exceeding riches of his grace in kindness."(1) But notwithstanding
even so, he is below the mark; and even as the slippery bodies when grasped
by countless hands, escape our hold, and slip through easily; so also are
we unable to get hold of the lovingkindness of God in whatever expressions
we may try to grasp it, but the exceeding magnitude of it baffles the feebleness
of our utterances. And Paul there--fore experiencing this, and seeing the
force of words defeated by its magnitude, desists after saying one word:
and what is this? "Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift."(2) For neither
speech, nor any mind is able to set forth the tender care of God. On this
account he then says that it is past finding out, and elsewhere "The peace
of God which passeth all understanding shall keep your hearts."(3)
But, as I was saying, these two ways of explanation
are found in the meantime: one indeed that God has not wrested the gift
that we have lost; and next, that the good things which have been
given to us are even greater than those which we have lost. And I wish
also to mention a third too. What then is the third? That even if he had
not given the things after these, which were greater than those we had
lost, but had only taken away what had been given to us, as we furnished
the reason why, (for let this be added); even this is enough of itself
to shew his tender care towards us. For not only to give, but also to take
away what was given, is a mark of the greatest loving-kindness, and, if
you will, let us lay bare the matter, in the case of Paradise. He gave
Paradise. This of his own tender care. We were seen to be unworthy of the
gift. This of our own senselessness. He took away the gift from those who
became unworthy of it. This came of his own goodness. And what kind of
goodness is it, says one, to take away the gift? Wait, and thou shalt fully
hear. For think, what Cain would have been, dwelling in Paradise after
his bloodguiltiness. For if, when he was expelled from that abode, if when
condemned to toil and labour, and beholding the threat of death hanging
over his head, if seeing the calamity of his father before his eyes, and
holding the traces of the wrath of God still in his hands, and encompassed
with so great horrors, he lashed out into such great wickedness, as to
ignore nature, and to forget one born from the same birth pangs, and to
slay him who had done him no wrong, to lay hold on his brother's person,
and to dye his right hand with blood, and when God wanted him to be still,
to refuse submission and to affront his maker, to dishonour his parents;
if this man had continued to dwell in Paradise--look, into how great evil
he would have rushed. For if when so many restraints were laid upon him,
he leapt with fatal leaps; and if these walls were set at nought, whither
would he not have precipitated himself?
Wouldest thou learn too from the mother of this
man, what a good result the expulsion from the life of Paradise had, compare
what Eve was before this, and what she became afterwards. Before this indeed,
she considered that deceiving Devil, that wicked Demon to be more worth
believing than the commandments of God, and at the mere sight of the tree,
she trampled under foot the law which had been laid down by Him. But when
the expulsion from Paradise came, consider how much better and wiser she
grew. For when she bare a son, she says "I have gotten a man through the
Lord."(4) She straightway flew to the master. who before this had despised
the master, and she neither ascribes the matter to nature, nor puts the
birth down to the laws of marriage, but she recognizes the Lord of Nature,
and acknowledges thanks to Him for the birth of the little child. And she
who before this deceived her husband, afterwards
181
even trained the little child, and gave him a name which of itself was
able to bring the gift of God to her remembrance: and again when she bare
another, she says "God hath raised up seed to me in place of Abel whom
Cain slew."(1) The woman remembers her calamity, and does not become impatient
but she gives thanks to God, and calls the little child after his gift,
furnishing it with constant material for instruction. Thus even in his
very deprivation God conferred greater benefit. The woman suffered expulsion
from Paradise, but by means of her ejection she was led to a knowledge
of God, so that she found a greater thing than she lost. And if it were
profitable, says one, to suffer expulsion from Paradise, for what cause
did God give Paradise at the beginning? This turned out profitably to man,
on account of our carelessness, since, if at least, they had taken heed
to themselves, and had acknowledged their master, and had known how to
be self-restrained, and to keep within bounds, they would have remained
in honour. But when they treated the gifts which had been given them with
insolence, then it became profitable, that they should be ejected. For
what cause then did God give at first? In order that he might shew forth
his own lovingkindness, and because He himself was prepared to bring us
even to greater honour. But we were the cause of chastisement and punishment
on all sides, ejecting ourselves through our indifference to goods which
were given to us. Just as therefore an affectionate father, at first indeed,
suffers his own son to dwell in his home, and to enjoy all his father's
goods, but when he sees that he has become worthless of the honour, he
leads him away from his table, and puts him far from his own sight, and
often casts him forth from his paternal home, in order that he, suffering
expulsion, and becoming better by this slight and this dishonour, may again
shew himself worthy of restoration, and may succeed to his father's inheritance:
So has God done. He gave Paradise to man. He cast him out when he appeared
unworthy, in order that by his dwelling outside, and through his dishonour,
he might become better, and more self-restrained, and might appear worthy
again of restoration. Since after those things he did become better, he
brings him back again and says "To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."(2)
Dost thou see that not the gift of Paradise but even the ejection from
Paradise was a token of the greatest tender care? For had he not suffered
expulsion from Paradise, he would not again have appeared worthy of Paradise.
4. This argument therefore let us maintain throughout,
and let us apply it to the case of the subject lying before us. God gave
a speech common to all. This is part of his loving kindness to men. They
did not use the gift rightly, but they lapsed to utter folly. He took away
again that which had been given. For if when they had one speech, they
fell into so great folly, as to wish to build a tower to heaven: had they
not immediately been chastised would they not have desired to lay hold
on the height of heaven itself? For why? If indeed that were impossible
for them, yet notwithstanding their impious thoughts are made out from
their plan. All which things God foresaw, and since they did not use their
oneness of speech rightly, he rightly divided them by difference of speech.
And see with me, his lovingkindness. "Behold," saith he "they all have
one speech, and this they have begun to do."(3) For what reason did he
not at once proceed to the division of tongues, but first of all defend
himself, as if about to be judged in a lawcourt? And yet at least no one
can say to him why hast thou thus done? yea he is at liberty to do all
things as he wills. But still as one about to give account, he thus sets
up a defence, teaching us to be gentle and loving. For if the master defends
himself to his servants, even when they have done him this wrong; much
more ought we to defend ourselves to one another, even if we are wronged
to the highest degree. See at least how he defends himself. "Behold they
have all one mouth and one speech" saith he, "and this they have begun
to do," as if he said let no one accuse me of this when he sees the division
of tongues. Let no one consider that this difference of speech was made
over to men from the beginning. "Behold they all have one mouth, and one
speech." But they did not use the gift aright. And in order that thou mayest
understand that he does not chastise for what has taken place so much as
he provides for improvement in the future, hear the sequel "and now none
of all the things will fail them, which they set on foot to do."(4) Now
what he says, is of such a kind as this. If they do not pay the penalty
now, and be restrained from the very root of their sins, they will never
cease from wickedness. For this is what "none of the things will fail them
which they set on foot to do means, as if he said, and they will add other
deeds yet more monstrous. For such a thing is wickedness; if when it has
taken a start it be not hindered, as fire catching wood, so it rises to
an un-
182
speakable height. Dost thou see that the deprivation of oneness of speech
was a work of much lovingkindness? He inflicted difference of speech upon
them, in order that they might not fall into greater wickedness. Hold fast
this argument then with me, and let it ever be fixed and immoveable in
your minds, that not only when he confers benefits but even when he chastises
God is good and loving. For even his chastisements and his punishments
are the greatest part of his beneficence, the greatest form of his providence.
Whenever therefore thou seest that famines have taken place, and pestilences,
and drought and immoderate rains, and irregularities in the atmosphere,
or any other of the things which chasten human nature, be not distressed,
nor be despondent, but worship Him who caused them, marvel at Him for His
tender care. For He who does these things is such that He even chastens
the body that the soul may become sound. Then does God these things saith
one? God does these things, and even if the whole city, nay even if the
whole universe were here I will not shrink from saying this. Would that
my voice were clearer than a trumpet, and that it were possible to stand
in a lofty place, and to cry aloud to all men, and to testify that God
does these things. I do not say these things in arrogance but I have the
prophet standing at my side, crying and saying, "There is no evil in the
city which the Lord hath not done"(1)--now evil is an ambiguous term; and
I wish that you shall learn the exact meaning of each expression, in order
that on account of ambiguity you may not confound the nature of the things,
and fall into blasphemy.
5. There is then evil, which is really evil; fornication,
adultery, covetousness, and the countless dreadful things, which are worthy
of the utmost reproach and punishment. Again there is evil, which rather
is not evil, but is called so, famine, pestilence, death, disease, and
others of a like kind. For these would not be evils. On this account I
said they are called so only. Why then? Because, were they evils, they
would not have become the sources of good to us, chastening our pride,
goading our sloth, and leading us on to zeal, making us more attentive.
"For when," saith one, "he slew them, then they sought him, and they returned,
and came early to God."(2) He calls this evil therefore which chastens
them, which makes them purer, which renders them more zealous, which leads
them on to love of wisdom; not that which comes under suspicion and is
worthy of reproach; for that is not a work of God, but an invention of
our own will, but this is for the destruction of the other. He calls then
by the name of evil the affliction, which arises from our punishment; thus
naming it not in regard to its own nature, but according to that view which
men take of it. For since we are accustomed to call by the name of evil,
not only thefts and adulteries, but also calamities; so he has called the
matter, according to the estimate of mankind. This then is that which the
prophet saith "There is no evil in the city which the Lord hath not done."
This too by means of Isaiah God has made clear saying "I am God who maketh
peace and createth evil,"(3) again naming calamities evils. This evil also
Christ hints at, thus saying to the disciples, "sufficient for the day
is the evil thereof,"(4) that is to say the affliction, the misery. It
is manifest then on all sides, that he here calls punishment evil; and
himself brings these upon us, affording us the greatest view of his providence.
For the physician is not only to be commended when he leads forth the patient
into gardens and meadows, nor even into baths and pools of water, nor yet
when he sets before him a well furnished table, but when he orders him
to remain without food, when he oppresses him with hunger and lays him
low with thirst, confines him to his bed, both making his house a prison,
and depriving him of the very light, and shadowing his room on all sides
with curtains, and when he cuts, and when he cauterizes, and when he brings
his bitter medicines, he is equally a physician. How is it not then preposterous
to call him a physician who does so many evil things, but to blaspheme
God, if at any time He doeth one of these things, if He bring on either
famine or death, and to reject his providence over all? And yet He is the
only true physician both of souls and bodies. On this account He often
seizes this nature of ours wantoning in prosperity, and travailing with
a fever of sins, and by want, and hunger, and death and other calamities
and the rest of the medicines of which He knows, frees us from diseases.
But the poor alone feel hunger, says one. But He does not chasten with
hunger alone, but with countless other things. Him who is in poverty He
has often corrected with hunger, but the rich and him who enjoys prosperity,
with dangers, diseases, untimely deaths. For He is full of resources, and
the medicines which He has for our salvation are manifold.
Thus too the judges do. They do not honour, or crown
those only who dwell in cities, nor do they provide gifts alone, but they
also
183
often correct. On this account both the sword is sharpened by them,
and tortures are prepared; both the wheel and the stocks, and the executioners,
and countless other forms of chastisement. That which the executioner is
to the judges, famine is to God--as an executioner correcting us and leading
us away from vice. This too, it is possible to see in the case of the husbandmen:
They do not then, only protect the root of the vine, nor hedge it round
but prune it, and lop off many of the branches; on this account not only
have they a hoe, but a sickle too, suitable for cutting: yet notwithstanding
we do not find fault with them, but then above all we admire them, when
we see them cutting off much that is unserviceable, so as through the rejection
of what is superfluous to afford great security to that which remains.
How is it not then preposterous, that we should thus approve of a father
indeed and a physician and a judge, and a husbandman, and should neither
blame nor censure him who casts his son out of his house nor the physician
who puts his patient to torture nor the judge who corrects, nor the husbandman
who prunes: but that we should blame and smite with countless accusations
God, if he would at any time raise us up, when we are as it were, besotted
through the great drunkenness which comes of wickedness? How great madness
would it not be, not even to allow God a share of the same self-justification,
of which we allow our fellow servants a share?
6. Fearing these things for them who reproach God,
I speak now, in order that they may not kick against the pricks, and cover
their own feet with blood, that they may not throw stones to heaven; and
receive wounds on their own head. But I have somewhat else far beyond this
to say. For omitting to ask (I say this by way of concession) if God took
from us to our profit, I only say this; that if He took what had been given,
not even thus, could anyone be able to reproach Him. For He was Lord of
his own. Among men indeed, when they entrust us with money, and lend us
silver, we give them our thanks for the time during which they lent it,
we are not indignant at the time at which they take back their own. And
shall we reproach God who wishes to take back his own? Indeed now is this
not the extreme of folly? yea the great and noble Job did not act thus.
For not only when he received, but even when he was deprived, he gives
the greatest thanks to God saying." The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken
away; may the name of the Lord be blessed for ever."[1] But if it is right
to give thanks for both these even separately, and deprivation is not the
less serviceable than bestowal; what excusableness should we have, tell
me, in recompensing in a contrary spirit, and being impatient with Him
when we ought to worship, who is so gentle, and loving and careful, who
is wiser than every Physician, and more full of affection than any father,
juster than any judge, and more anxious than any husbandman, in healing
these souls of ours? What then could be more insane and senseless than
they who in the midst of so great good order, say that we are deprived
of the providence of God? For just as if some one were to contend that
the soul was murky and cold, he would produce an example of extreme insanity,
by his opinion; so if any one doubts about the providence of God, much
rather is he liable to charges of madness.
Not so manifest is the Sun, as the providence of
God is clear. But nevertheless some dare to say that Demons administer
our affairs. What can I do? Thou hast a loving Master. He chooses rather
to be blasphemed by thee through these words, than to commit thine affairs
to the Demons and persuade thee by the reality how Demons administer. For
then thou wouldest know their wickedness well by the experience of it.
But rather indeed now it is possible to set it before you as it were by
a certain small example. Certain men possessed of Demons coming forth out
of the tombs met Christ, and the Demons kept beseeching him to suffer them
to enter the herd of swine. And he suffered them, and they went away, and
straightway precipitated them all headlong.(2) Thus do Demons govern; and
yet to them the swine were of no particular account, but with thee there
is ever a warfare without a truce, and an implacable fight, and undying
hatred. And if in the case of those with whom they had nothing in common
they did not even endure that they should be allowed a brief breathing
space of time: if they had gotten unto their power us their enemies who
are perpetually stinging them what would they not have done? and what incurable
mischief would they not have accomplished? For for this reason God let
them fall upon the herd of swine, in order that in the case of the bodies
of irrational animals thou mayest learn their wickedness, and that they
would have done to the possessed the things which they did to the swine,
had not the demoniacs in their very madness experienced the providence
of God, is evident to all: and now therefore when thou seest a man excited
by a Demon, worship the Master. Learn the wickedness of the
184
Demons. For it is possible to see both things in the case of these Demons,
the lovingkindness of God, and the evil of the Demons. The evil of
the Demons when they harass and disturb the soul of the demented: and the
lovingkindness of God whenever he restrains and hinders so savage a Demon,
who has taken up his abode within, and desires to hurl the man headlong,
and does not allow him to use his own power to the full, but suffers him
to exhibit just so much strength, as both to bring the man to his senses,
and make his own wickedness apparent. Dost thou wish to form another example
to see once more how a Demon arranges matters when God allows him to use
his own power? Consider the herds, the flocks of Job, how in one instant
of time he annihilated all, consider the pitiable death of the children,
the blow that was dealt to his body: and thou shalt see the savage and
inhuman and unsparing character of the wickedness of the Demons, and from
these things thou shall know clearly that if God had. entrusted the whole
of this world to their authority, they would have confused and disturbed
everything, and would have assigned to us their treatment of the swine,
and of those herds, since not even for a little breathing space of time
could they have endured to spare us our salvation. If Demons were to arrange
affairs, we should be in no better condition than possessed men, yea rather
we should be worse than they. For God did not give them over entirely to
the tyranny of the Demons, otherwise they would suffer far worse things
than these which they now suffer. And I would ask this of those who say
these things, what kind of disorder they behold in the present, that they
set down all our affairs to the arrangement of Demons? And yet we behold
the sun for so many years proceeding day by day in regular order, a manifold
band of stars keeping their own order, the courses of the moon unimpeded,
an invariable succession of night and day, all things, both above and below,
as it were in a certain fitting harmony, yea rather even far more, and
more accurately each keeping his own place, and not departing from the
order which God who made them ordained from the beginning.
7. And what is the use of all this, says one, when
the heaven indeed, and sun, and moon, and the band of stars, and all the
rest keep much good order, but our affairs are full of confusion and disorder.
What kind of confusion, O man, and disorder? A certain one, says he, is
rich, and overbearing, He is rapacious and covetous, he drains the substance
of the poor day by day, and suffers no terrible affliction. Another lives
in forbearance, self-restraint, and uprightness, and is adorned with all
other good qualities, and is chastened with poverty and disease, and extremely
terrible afflictions. Are these then the matters which offend thee? Yes,
these, says he. If then thou seest both of the rapacious, many chastened,
and of those living virtuously, yea some even enjoying countless goods,
why dost thou not abandon thine opinion, and be content with the Almighty?
Because it is this very thing which offends me more. For why when there
are two evil men, is one chastened, and another gets off, and escapes;
and when there are two good men, one is honoured, and the other continues
under punishment? And this very thing is a very great work of God's providence.
For if he were to chasten all the evil men, here; and were to honour here
all the good men, a day of judgment were superfluous. Again if he were
to chasten no wicked man, nor were to honour any of the good, then the
base would become baser and worse, as being more careless than the excellent,
and they who were minded to blaspheme would accuse God all the more, and
say that our affairs were altogether deprived of his providence. For if
when certain evil men are chastened, and certain good men punished, they
likewise say that human affairs are subject to no providence; if even this
did not happen what would they not say? and what words would they not send
forth? On this account some of the wicked he chastens, and some he does
not chasten and some of the good he honours and some he does not honour.
He does not chasten all, in order that he may persuade thee, that there
is a Resurrection. But he chastens some in order that he may make the more
careless, through fear by means of the punishment of the others, more in
earnest. Again he honours certain of the good, in order that he may lead
on others by his honours to emulate their virtue. But he does not honour
all, in order that thou mayest learn that there is another season for rendering
to all their recompense. For if indeed all were to receive their deserts
here, they would disbelieve the account of the Resurrection. But if no
one were to receive his desert here, the majority would become more careless.
On this account some he chastens, and others he does not chasten, profiling
both those who are chastened, and those who are not chastened. For he separates
their wickedness from those, and he makes the others by their punishment,
more self-restrained. And this is manifest from what Christ himself said.
For when they announced to him that a tower had been brought to the ground,
and had buried certain men, he saith to them "What think ye? that
185
these men were sinners only? I say to you nay, but if ye do not repent
ye also shall suffer the same thing."(1)
Dost thou see how those perished on account of their
sin, and the rest did not escape on account of their righteousness, but
in order that they might become better by the punishment of the others?
Were not then the chastened unjustly dealt with says one? For they could
without being chastened themselves become better by the punishment of others.
But if He had known that they would become better from penitence God would
not have chastened them. For if when he foresaw that many would profit
nothing from his longsuffering, he nevertheless bears with them, with much
tolerance, fulfilling his own part, and affording them an opportunity of
coming out of their own senselessness to their sober senses one day; how
could he deprive those who were about to become better from the punishment
of others, of the benefit of repentance? So that they are in no way unjustly
treated, both their evil being cut off by their punishment, and their chastening
is to be lighter there, because they suffered here beforehand. Again, they
who were not chastened are in no way unjustly treated; for it was possible
for them, had they wished, to have used the longsuffering of God, to accomplish
a most excellent change, and wondering at his tolerance, to have become
ashamed at his exceeding forbearance, and one day to have gone over to
virtue, and to have gained their own salvation by the punishment of others.
But if they remain in wickedness, God is not to blame, who on this account
was longsuffering, that he might recover them, but they are unworthy of
pardon, who did not rightly use the longsuffering of God: and it is not
only possible to use this argument as a reason why all the wicked are not
chastened here, but another also not less than this. Of what kind then
is this? That if God brought upon all, the chastenings which their sins
deserved, our race would have been carried off, and would have failed to
come down to posterity. And in order that thou mayest learn that this is
true, hear the prophet saying "If Thou observedst iniquity
O Lord, who shall stand?"(2) And if it seems good
to thee to investigate this saying, leaving the accurate enquiry into the
life of each, alone: (For it is not possible even to know all that has
been accomplished by each man) let us bring forward those sins which all,
without contradiction, commit: and from these it will be plain and manifest
to us, that if we were chastened for each of our sins, we should long ago
have perished. He who has called his brother fool, "is liable to the hell
of fire" saith Heft Is there then any one of us who has never sinned this
sin? What then? ought he to be straightway carried off? Therefore we should
have been all carried off and would have disappeared, long ago, indeed
very long ago. Again he who swears, saith he, even if he fulfil his oath,
doeth the works of the wicked one.(4) Who is there then, who has not sworn?
Yea rather who is there who has never sworn falsely? He who looketh on
a woman, saith he, with unchaste eyes,(5) is wholly an adulterer, and of
this sin any one would find many guilty. When then these acknowledged sins
are such and so insufferable, and each of these of itself brings upon us
inevitable chastisement, if we were to reckon up the secret sins committed
by us, then we shall see especially that the providence of God does not
bring upon us punishment for each sin. So that when thou seest anyone rapacious,
covetous, and not chastened, then do thou unfold thine own conscience;
reckon up thine own life, go over the sins which have been committed and
thou shalt learn rightly that in thine own case first, it is not expedient
to be chastened for each of thy sins: for on this account the majority
make reckless utterances, since they do not look on their own case before
that of others, but we all leaving our own alone, examine that of the rest.
But let us no longer do this, but the reverse, and if thou seest any righteous
man chastened, remember Job: for if any one be righteous, he will not be
more righteous than that man, nor within a small distance of approaching
him. And if he suffer countless ills, he has not yet suffered so much,
as that man.
8. Taking this then into thy mind, cease charging
the master; learning that it is not by way of deserting him does God let
such an one suffer ill, but through desire to crown him, and make him more
distinguished. And if thou seest a sinner punished, remember the paralytic
who passed thirty eight years on his bed. For that that man was delivered
over then to that disease through sin, hear Christ saying "Behold thou
art made whole; sin no more lest a worse thing happen to thee."(6) For
either when we are chastened, we pay the penalty of our sins, or else we
receive the occasion of crowning if, when we live in rectitude, we suffer
ill. So that whether we live in righteousness, or in sins, chastening is
a useful thing for us, sometimes making us more distinguished, sometimes
rendering us more self-controlled, and lightening our punishment
186
to come for us. For that it is possible that one chastened here, and bearing it thankfully should experience milder punishment there hear St. Paul saying "For this reason many are weak and sickly, and some sleep. For if we judged ourselves, we should not be judged. But when we are judged we are corrected by the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world."(1) Knowing all these things therefore, Let us both moralize in this way on the providence of God, and stop the mouths of the gainsayers. And if any of the events which happen pass our understanding, let us not from this consider that our affairs are not governed by providence, but perceiving His providence in part, in things incomprehensible let us yield to the unsearchableness of His wisdom. For if it is not possible for one not conversant with it to understand a man's art, much rather is it impossible for the human understanding to comprehend the infinity of the providence of God. "For his judgments are unsearchable and his ways past finding out"(2) But nevertheless from small portions we gain a clear and manifest faith about the whole, we give thanks to him for all that happens. For there is even another consideration that cannot be contradicted, for those who wish to moralize about the providence of God For we would ask the gainsayers, is there then a God? and if they should say there is not, let us not answer them. For just as it is worthless to answer madmen, so too those who say there is no God. For if a ship having few sailors, and passengers, would not be conducted safely for one mile even, without the hand which guides it, much more, such a world as this, having so many persons in it, composed of different elements, would not have continued so long a time, were there not a certain providence presiding over it, both governing, and continually maintaining this whole fabric, and if in shame, through the common opinion of all men, and the experience of affairs, they confess that there is a God, let us say this to them. If there is a God, as indeed there is, it follows that He is just, for if He is not just neither is He God, and if He is just He recompenses to each according to their desert. But we do not see all here receiving according to their desert. Therefore it is necessary to hope for some other requital awaiting us, in order that by each one receiving according to his desert, the justice of God may be made manifest. For this consideration does not only contribute to our wisdom about providence alone, but about the Resurrection; and let us teach others, and let us do all diligence to shut the mouths of them who rave against the master, and let us ourselves glorify him in all things. For thus shall we win more of his care, and enjoy much of his influence, and thus shall we be able to escape from real evil, and obtain future good, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, By whom and with whom be glory to the Father, with the Holy Spirit, now and always, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY II.
AGAINST THOSE WHO OBJECT BECAUSE THE DEVIL HAS NOT BEEN PUT OUT OF THE WORLD: AND TO PROVE THAT HIS WICKEDNESS DOES NO HARM TO US--IF WE TAKE HEED: AND CONCERNING REPENTANCE.
1. When Isaac, in old time, was desirous to eat a meal at the hands of his son, he sent his son forth from the house to the chace. But when this Isaac was desirous to accept a meal at my hands he did not send me forth from the house, but himself ran to our table. What could be more tenderly affectionate than he? What more humble? who thought fit to shew his warm love thus, and deigned to descend so far. On this account surely, we also having spent the tones of our voice, and the strength of our feet over the morning discourse, when we saw his fatherly face, forgot our weakness, lay aside our fatigue, were uplifted with pleasure; we saw his illustrious hoary head, and our soul was filled with light. On this account too, we set out our table with readiness, in order that he should eat and bless us. There is no fraud and guile, here, as there was then, there. One indeed was commanded to bring the meal--but another brought it. But I was commanded to bring it, and brought it too. Bless me then, O my father, with spiritual blessing, which we all also pray ever to receive, and
187
which is profitable not only to thee, but also to me, and to all these.
Entreat the common master of us all, to prolong thy life to the old age
of Isaac. For this is both for me, and for these, more valuable, and more
needful than the dew of heaven, and the fatness of the earth.
But it is time to proceed to set out our table;
what then is this? The remains of what was lately said with a view to our
love of you. For still--still--we renew our discourse concerning the Devil,
which we started two days ago, which we also addressed to the initiated,
this morning when we discoursed to them about renunciation, and covenant.
And we do this, not because our discourse about the Devil is sweet to us,
but because the doctrine about him is full of security for you. For he
is an enemy and a foe, and it is a great security to know clearly, the
tactics of your enemies. We have said lately, that he does not overcome
by force, nor by tyranny, nor through compulsion, nor through violence.
Since were this so, he would have destroyed all men. And in testimony of
this we brought forward the swine, against which the Demons were unable
to venture anything, before the permission of the Master.(1) The herds
and flocks of Job. For not even did the Devil venture to destroy these,
until he received power from above. We learned therefore this one thing
first, that he does not overcome us by force, or by compulsion; next after
that, we added that even when he overcomes by deceitfulness, not thus does
he get the better of all men, Then again we brought that athlete Job, himself
into the midst, against whom he set countless schemes going, and not even
thus got the better of him, but withdrew defeated. One question still remains.
What then is this matter? That if he does not overcome says one, by force,
yet by deceitfulness. And on this account it were better that he should
be destroyed. For if Job got the better of him, yet Adam was deceived and
overthrown. Now if once for all he had been removed from the world, Adam
would never have been overthrown. But now he remains, and is defeated indeed
by one, but gets the better of many. Ten overcame him, but he himself overcomes
and wrestles down ten thousand and if God took him away from the world,
these ten thousand would not have perished. What then shall we say to this?
That first of all they who overcame are more valuable far than they who
are defeated, even if the latter be more, and the former less. "For better
is one," saith he "that doeth the will of God than ten thousand transgressors."(2)
And next, that if the antagonist were taken away he who overcomes is thereby
injured. For if thou lettest the adversary remain, the more slothful are
injured, not on account of the more diligent, but by their own slothfulness;
whereas it thou takest away the antagonist, the more diligent are betrayed
on account of the slothful, and neither exhibit their own power, nor win
crowns.
2. Perhaps ye have not yet understood what has been
said. Therefore it is necessary that I should say it again more clearly.
Let there be one antagonist. But let there be also two athletes about to
wrestle gainst him, and of these two athletes let one be consumed with
gluttony, unprepared, void of strength, nerveless; but the other diligent,
of good habit, passing his time in the wrestling school, in many gymnastic
exercises, and exhibiting all the practice which bears upon the contest.
If then thou takest away the antagonist, which of these two hast thou injured?
The slothful, pray, and unprepared, or the earnest one who has toiled so
much? It is quite dear that it is the earnest one: For the one indeed is
wronged by the slothful, after the antagonist has been taken away. But
the slothful, while he remains, is no longer injured on account of the
earnest. For he has fallen, owing to his own slothfulness.
I will state another solution of this question,
in order that thou mayest learn, that the Devil does not injure, but their
own slothfulness everywhere overthrows those who do not take heed. Let
the Devil be allowed to be exceeding wicked, not by nature, but by choice
and conviction. For that the Devil is not by nature wicked, learn from
his very names. For the Devil, the slanderer that is, is called so from
slandering; for he slandered man to God saying "Doth Job reverence thee
for nought? but put out thine hand, and touch what he hath, see if he will
not blaspheme thee to thy face."(4) He slandered God again to man saying
"Fire fell from heaven and burnt up the sheep." For he was anxious to persuade
him, that this warfare was stirred up from above, out of the heavens, and
he set the servant at variance with the master, and the master with his
servant; rather he did not set them at variance, but attempted to indeed,
but was not able, in order that whenever thou mayest set another servant
at variance with his master, Adam with God, and believing the Devil's slander,
thou mayest learn that he gained strength, not owing to his own power but
from that man's slothfulness and carelessness. He is called the Devil therefore
on that
188
account. But to slander, and to refrain from slander is not natural,
but an action which takes place and which ceases to take place, occurring
and ceasing to occur. Now such things do not reach the rank of the nature
or of the essence of a thing. I know that this consideration about essence
and accident is hard to be grasped by many. But there are they who are
able to lend a finer ear, wherefore also we have spoken these things. Do
you wish that I should come to another name? You shall see that that also
is not a name which belongs to his essence or nature. He is called wicked.
But his wickedness is not from his nature, but from his choice. For even
this at one time is present, at another time is absent. Do not thou then
say this to me that it always remains with him. For it was not indeed with
him at the beginning, but afterwards came upon him; wherefore he is called
apostate. Although many men are wicked, he alone is called wicked by pre-eminence.
Why then is he thus called? Because though in no way wronged by us, having
no grudge whether small or great, when he saw mankind had in honour, he
straightway envied him his good. What therefore could be worse than this
wickedness, except when hatred and war exist, without having any reasonable
cause. Let the Devil then be let alone, and let us bring forward the creation,
in order that thou mayest learn that the Devil is not the cause of ills
to us, if we would only, take heed: in order that thou mayest learn that
the weak in choice, and the unprepared, and slothful, even were there no
Devil, falls, and casts himself into many a depth of evil. The Devil is
evil. I know it myself and it is acknowedged by all, yet give heed strictly
to the things which are now about to be said. For they are not ordinary
matters, but those about which many words, many times, and in many places
arise, about which there is many a fight and battle not only on the part
of the faithful against unbelievers but also on the part of the faithful
against the faithful. For this is that which is full of pain.
3. The Devil then is acknowledged, as I said, to
be evil by all. What shall we say about this beautiful and wondrous creation?
Pray is the creation too, wicked? and who is so corrupt, who so drill,
and demented as to accuse the creation? what then shall we say about this?
For it is not wicked, but is both beautiful and token of the wisdom and
power and lovingkindness of God. Hear at least how the prophet marvels
at it, saying, "How are thy works magnified O Lord! in wisdom Thou hast
made them all."(1) He did go through them one by one, but withdrew before
the incomprehensible wisdom of God. And that he has made it thus beautiful
and vast hear a certain one saying, "From the vastness and beauty of the
creatures, the originator of them is proportionably seen."(2) Hear too
Paul saying, "For the invisible things of Him, since the creation of the
world, are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made."(3)
For each of these by which he spake declared that the creation leads us
to the knowledge of God, because it causes us to know the Master fully.
What then? If we see this beautiful and wondrous creation itself becoming
a cause of impiety to many, shall we blame it? In no wise, but them who
were unable to use the medicine rightly. Whence then is this which leads
us to the knowledge of God, a cause of impiety? "The wise" saith he "were
darkened in their understandings, and worshipped and served the creature
more than the creator"(4) The Devil is nowhere here, a Demon is nowhere
here, but the creation alone is set before us, as the teacher of the knowledge
of God. How then has it become the cause of impiety? Not owing to its own
nature, but owing to the carelessness of those who do not take heed. What
then? Shall we take away even the creation? tell me.
And why do I speak about the creation? Let us come
to our own members. For even these we shall find to be a cause of destruction
if we do not take heed, not because of their own nature, but because of
our sloth. And look; an eye was given, in order that thou mayest behold
the creation and glorify the Master. But if thou dost not use the eye well,
it becomes to thee the minister of adultery. A tongue has been given, in
order that thou mayest speak well, in order that thou mayest praise the
Creator. But if thou givest not excellent heed, it becomes a cause of blasphemy
to thee. And hands were given thee that thou mayest stretch them forth
unto prayer. But if thou are not wary, thou stretchest them out unto covetousness.
Feet were given in order that thou mayest run unto good works, but if thou
art careless thou wilt cause wicked works by means of them: Dost thou see
that all things hurt the weak man? Dost thou see that even the medicines
of salvation inflict death upon the weak, not because of their own nature
but because of his weakness? God made the heaven in order that thou mayest
wonder at the work, and worship the master. But others leaving the creator
alone, have worshipped the heaven; and this from
their own carelessness and senselessness. But
189
why do I speak of the creation? assuredly what could be more conducive
to salvation than the Cross? But this Cross has become an offence to the
weak. "For the word of the Cross is to them that are perishing, foolishness:
but to those which are being saved, it is the power of God."(1)And again,
"we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumbling-block and unto Gentiles
foolishness."(2) What could be more fit for teaching than Paul, and the
apostles? But the Apostles became a savour of death to many. He says at
least "to one a savour from death unto death: to the other a savour from
life unto life."(3) Dost thou see that the weak is hurt even by Paul, but
the strong is injured not even by the Devil?
4. Dost thou wish that we should exercise the argument
in the case of Jesus Christ? What is equal to that salvation? what more
profitable than that presence? But this very saving presence, so profitable,
became an additional means of chastening to many. "For for judgment" saith
he "came I into this world, that they which see not may see, and that they
which see may become blind."(4) What dost thou say? The light became a
cause of blindness? The light did not become a cause of blindness, but
the weakness of the eyes of the soul was not able to entertain the light.
Thou hast seen that a weak man is hurt on all sides, but the strong is
benefited on all sides For in every case, the purpose is the cause, in
every case the disposition is master. Since the Devil, if thou wouldest
understand it, is even profitable to us, if we use him aright, and benefits
us greatly, and we gain no ordinary advantages; and this, we shewed in
a small degree from the case of Job. And it is possible also to learn this
from Paul: for writing about the fornicator he thus speaks "Deliver such
an one unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may
be saved."(5) Behold even the Devil has become a cause of salvation, but
not because of his own disposition, but because of the skill of the Apostle.
For as the physicians taking serpents and cutting off their destructive
members, prepare medicines for antidotes; so also did Paul. He took whatever
was profitable of the chastening that proceeds from the Devil, and left
the rest alone; in order that thou mayest learn that the Devil is not the
cause of salvation, but that he hasted to destroy and devour mankind. But
that the Apostle through his own wisdom cut his throat: hear in the second
epistle to the Corinthians, what he saith about this very fornicator, "confirm
your love towards him," "lest by any means such an one should be swallowed
up by over much sorrow." And, "we be taken advantage of by Satan."(6) We
have snatched beforehand the man from the gullet of the wild beast, he
saith. For the Apostle often used the Devil as an executioner. For the
executioners punish those who have done wrong, not as they choose, but
as the judges allow. For this is the rule for the executioner, to take
vengeance, giving heed to the command of the judge. Dost thou see to what
a dignity the Apostle mounted? He who was invested with a body, used the
bodiless as an executioner; and that which their common master saith to
the Devil, concerning Job: charging him thus, "Touch his flesh, but thou
shall not touch his life;"(7) giving him a limit, and measure of vengeance,
in order that the wild beast might not be impetuous and leap upon him too
shamelessly; this too the Apostle does. For delivering the fornicator over
to him he says "For the destruction of the flesh,"(8) that is "thou shall
not touch his life." Dost thou see the authority of the servant? Fear not
therefore the Devil, even if he be bodiless: for he has come in contact
with him. And nothing is weaker than he who has come into such contact
even though he be not invested with a body, as then nothing is stronger
than he who has boldness even though he bear about a mortal body.
5. All these things have been now said by me, not
in order that I may discharge the Devil from blame, but that I may free
you from slothfulness. For he wishes extremely to attribute the cause of
our sins to himself, in order that we being nourished by these hopes, and
entering on all kinds of evil, may increase the chastening in our own case,
and may meet with no pardon from having transferred the cause to him. Just
as Eve met with none. But let us not do this. But let us know ourselves.
Let us know our wounds. For thus shall we be able to apply the medicines.
For he who does not know his disease, will give no care to his weakness.
We have sinned much: I know this well. For we are all liable for penalties.
But we are not deprived of pardon; nor shall we fall away from repentance
for we still stand in the arena, and are in the struggles of repentance.
Art thou old, and hast thou come to the last outlet of life? Do not consider
even thus that thou hast fallen from repentance, nor despair of thine own
salvation, but consider the robber who was freed on the cross. For what
was briefer than that hour in which he was crowned? Yet notwithstanding
even this was enough for him, for salvation. Art
190
thou young? Do not be confident in thy youth, nor think that thou hast
a very fixed term of life, "For the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief
in the night."(1) On this account he has made our end invisible, in order
that we might make our diligence and our forethought plain. Dost thou not
see men taken away prematurely day after day? On this account a certain
one admonishes "make no tarrying to turn to the Lord and put not off from
day to day,"(2) lest at any time, as thou delayest, thou art destroyed.
Let the old man keep this admonition, let the young man take this advice.
Yea, art thou in security, and art thou rich, and dost thou abound in wealth,
and does no affliction happen to thee? Still hear what Paul says "when
they say peace and safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them."(3)
Affairs are full of much change. We are not masters of our end. Let us
be masters of virtue. Our Master Christ is loving.
6. Do you wish that I shall speak of the ways of
repentance? They are many, and various, and different, and all lead to
heaven. The first way of repentance is condemnation of sins. "Declare thou
first thy sins that thou mayest be justified."(4) Wherefore also the prophet
said "I said, I will speak out, my transgression to the Lord, and thou
remittedst the iniquity of my heart."(5) Condemn thyself therefore for
thy sins. This is enough for the Master by way of self-defence. For he
who condemns his sins, is slower to fall into them again. Awake thy conscience,
that inward accuser, in order that thou mayest have no accuser at the judgment
seat of the Lord. This is one way of repentance, the best; and there is
another not less than this, not to bear a grudge against thine enemies
to overcome anger, to forgive the sins of our fellow-servants. For so will
those which have been done against the master be forgiven us. See the second
expiation of sins: "For if ye forgive" saith he, "your debtors, your Heavenly
Father will also forgive you."(6) Dost thou wish to learn a third way of
repentance? Fervent and diligent prayer, and to do this from the bottom
of the heart. Hast thou not seen that widow, how she persuaded the shameless
judge?(7) But thou hast a gentle Master, both tender, and kind. She asked,
against her adversaries, but thou dost not ask against thine adversaries,
but on behalf of thine own salvation. And if thou wouldest learn a fourth
way, I will say almsgiving. For this has a great power and unspeakable.
For Daniel saith to Nebuchadnezzar when he had come to all kinds of evil,
and had entered upon all impiety, "O King let my counsel be acceptable
unto thee, redeem thy sins by almsgiving and thine iniquities by compassion
on the poor."(8) What could be compared with this lovingkindness? After
countless sins, after so many transgressions, he is promised that he will
be reconciled with him he has come into conflict with if he will show kindness
to his own fellow-servants. And modesty, and humility, not less than all
words spoken, exhaust the nature of sins. And the publican is proof, being
unable to declare his good deeds, in sight of all, bringing forward his
humility, and laying aside the heavy burden of his sins.(9) See we have
shewn five ways of repentance: first the condemnation of sins, next the
forgiveness of our neighbours' sins, thirdly that which comes of prayer,
fourth that which comes of almsgiving, fifth that which comes of humility.
Do not thou then be lazy; but walk in all these day by day. For the ways
are easy, nor canst thou plead poverty. And even if thou livest poorer
than all, thou art able to leave thine anger, and be humble, and to pray
fervently, and to condemn sins, and thy poverty is in no way a hindrance.
And why do I speak thus, when not even in that way of repentance in which
it is possible to spend money (I speak of almsgiving), not even there is
poverty any hindrance to us from obeying the command? The widow who spent
the two mites is a proof.(10) Having learned then the healing of our wounds,
let us constantly apply these medicines, in order that we may return to
health and enjoy the sacred table with assurance; and with much glory,
reach Christ the king of glory, and attain to everlasting good by the grace,
and compassion, and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom and
with whom be glory, power, honour, to the Father, together with the all
holy, and good and quickening Spirit, now and always and for ever and ever.
Amen.
HOMILY III.
THAT EVIL COMES OF SLOTH, AND VIRTUE FROM DILIGENCE, AND THAT NEITHER WICKED MEN, NOR THE DEVIL HIMSELF, ARE ABLE TO DO THE WARY MAN ANY HARM. THE PROOF OF THIS FROM MANY PASSAGES, AND AMONGST OTHERS FROM THOSE WHICH RELATE TO ADAM AND TO JOB.
1. The day before yesterday we set on foot our sermon
concerning the Devil, out of our love for you. But others, the day before
yesterday while these matters were being set on foot here, took their places
in the theatre, and were looking on at the Devil's show. They were taking
part in lascivious songs; ye were having a share in spiritual music. They
were eating of the Devil's garbage: ye were feeding on spiritual unguents.
Who pray decoyed them? Who pray separated them from the sacred flock? Did
the Devil pray deceive them? How did he not deceive you? you and they are
men alike; I mean as regards your nature. You and they have the same soul,
you have the same desires, so far as nature is concerned. How is it then
that you and they were not in the same place? Because you and they have
not the same purpose. On this account they indeed are under deception,
but you beyond deception. I do not say these things again as discharging
the Devil from accusation, but as desiring earnestly to free you from sins.
The Devil is wicked; I grant this indeed, but he is wicked for himself
not towards us if we are wary. For the nature of wickedness is of this
kind. It is destructive to those alone who hold to it. Virtue is the contrary.
It is not only able to profit those who hold to it, but those nearest at
hand too. And in order that thou mayest learn that evil is evil in itself,
but good is also good to others, I provide thee with proverbial evidence:
"My son" saith he "if thou art become evil, thou shall bear thine evils
alone, but if wise, for thyself and thy neighbour."(1)
They were deceived in the theatre, but ye were not
deceived. This is the greatest proof of things, a clear testimony, and
unquestionable reasoning, that in every case, the purpose is master. Do
thou accordingly use this method of proof, and if thou seest a man living
in wickedness, and exhibiting all kinds of evil; then blaming the providence
of God, and saying that by the necessity of fortune and fate and through
tyranny of Demons He gave us our nature, and on all sides shifting the
cause from himself indeed, and transferring it to the creator who provides
for all; silence his speech not by word, but by deed, shewing him mother
fellow servant living in virtue and forbearance. There is no need of long
speeches, no need of a complex plan, nor even of syllogisms. By means of
deeds the proof is brought about. He said to him: thou art a servant, and
he is a servant; thou art a man and he is a man. Thou livest in the same
world: thou art nourished with the same nourishment under the same heaven:
How is it that thou art living in wickedness, he in virtue? on this account
God allowed the wicked to be mingled with the good; and did not give one
law to the wicked indeed, and appointed another world as a colony for the
good, but mixed these and those; conferring great benefit. For the good
appear more thoroughly approved when they are in the midst of those who
try to hinder them from living rightly, and who entice them to evil, and
yet keep hold of virtue. "For there must" he saith "be also heresies among
you that they which are approved may be made manifest among you."(2)
Therefore also on this account he has left the wicked
to be in the world, in order that the good may shine the brighter. Dost
thou see how great is the gain? But the gain is not owing to the wicked,
but owing to the courage of the good. On this account also we admire Noe,
not because he was righteous nor yet because he was perfect alone, but
because in that perverse and wicked generation he preserved his virtue,
when he had no pattern of virtue, when all men invited him to wickedness;
and he went his whole way contrary to them, like some traveller, pursuing
his way while the great multitude is being borne along vehemently. On this
account he did not simply say "Noe was just, perfect," but added "in his
generation"(3) in that perverse, that desperate generation, when there
was no acquisition of virtue. To the good indeed then this was the gain
from the wicked. Thus at all events; also trees tossed about by contrary
winds, become stronger. And there is a gain to the wicked from their mixing
with the good. They feel confusion, they are ashamed, they
192
blush in their presence; and even if they do not abstain from evil,
yet nevertheless they dare what they dare with secrecy. And this is no
small thing not to have transgression publicly committed. For the life
of the others becomes the accuser of the wickedness of these. Hear at least
what they say about the righteous man. "He is grievous to us, even when
beheld,"(1) and it is no small beginning of amendment to be tormented at
his presence. For if the sight of the righteous man did not torment them,
this word would not have been uttered. But to be stung, and pinched in
conscience at his presence, would be no little hindrance to indulging in
wickedness with pleasure, Dost thou see how great is the gain both to the
good from the wicked, and to the wicked from the good? On this account
God has not set them apart, but allowed them to be mingled together.
2. Let our argument also about the Devil be the
same. For on this account He hath left him also to be here, in order that
he might render thee the stronger, in order that he may make the athlete
more illustrious, in order that the contests may be greater. When therefore
any one says, why has God left the Devil here? say these words to him,
because he not only does no harm to the war and the heedful, but even profits
them, not owing to his own purpose (for that is wicked), but owing to their
courage who have used that wickedness aright. Since he even fixed upon
Job not on this account that he might make him more illustrious, but in
order that he might upset him. On this account he is wicked both because
of such an opinion and such a purpose. But notwithstanding he did no harm
to the righteous man, but he rather rejoiced in the conflict as we accordingly
shewed. Both the Demon shewed his wickedness and the righteous man his
courage. But he does upset many says one: owing to their weakness, not
owing to his own strength: for this too has been already proved by many
examples. Direct thine own intention aright then, and thou shalt never
receive harm from any, but shall get the greatest gain, not only from the
good but even from the wicked. For on this account, as I have before said,
God has suffered men to be with one another, and especially the wicked
with the good, in order that they may bring them over to their own virtue.
Hear at least what Christ saith to his disciples, "The Kingdom of heaven
is like unto a woman who took leaven and hid it in three measures of meal."(2)
So that the righteous have the power of leaven, in order that they may
transfer the wicked to their own manner of conduct. But the righteous are
few, for the leaven is small. But the smallness in no way injures the lump,
but that little quantity converts the whole of the meal to itself by means
of the power inherent in it. So accordingly the power also of the righteous
has its force not m the magnitude of their number, but in the grace of
the Spirit. There were twelve Apostles. Dost thou see how little is the
leaven? The whole world was in unbelief. Dost thou see how great is the
lump? But those twelve turned the whole world to themselves. The leaven
and the lump had the same nature but not the same manner of conduct. On
this account he left the wicked in the midst of the good, that since they
are of the same nature as the righteous they may also become of the same
purpose.
Remember these things. With these stop the mouths
of the indolent, the dissolute, the slothful, the indisposed towards the
labours of virtue, those who accuse their common Master. "Thou hast sinned"
he saith "be still."(3) "Do not add a second more grievous sin? It is not
so grievous to sin, as after the sin to accuse the Master. Take knowledge
of the cause of the sin, and thou wilt find that it is none other than
thyself who hast sinned. Everywhere there is a need of a good intention.
I have shewn you this not from simple reasoning only, but from the case
of fellow-servants living in the world itself. Do thou also use this proof.
Thus too our common master will judge us. Learn this method of proof, and
no one will be able to reason with you. Is any a fornicator? Shew him another
who is self-restrained. Is any covetous and rapacious? Shew him one who
gives alms. Does he live in jealousy and envy? Shew him one clean from
passion. Is he overcome by anger? Bring into the midst one who is living
in wisdom, for we must not only have recourse to ancient example, but take
our models from present times. For even to-day by the grace of God, good
deeds are done not less than of old. Is a man incredulous? and does he
think that the scriptures are false? Does he not believe that Job was such
as he was? Shew him another man, emulating the life of that righteous person.
Thus will the Master also judge us: He places fellow servants with fellow-servants,
nor does he give sentence according to his own judgment, in order that
no one may begin to say again, as that servant said, who was entrusted
with the talent, and who instead of a talent brought the accusation. "Thou
art an austere man."(5) For he
193
ought to mourn, because he did not double the talent, but rendered his
sin the more grievous, by adding to his own idleness, his accusation against
the Master. For what saith he? "I knew thee that thou art an austere man."
O miserable, and wretched, ungrateful and lazy man! Thou oughtest to have
accused thine own idleness, and to have taken away somewhat from thy former
sin. But thou in bringing an account against the master hast doubled thy
sin instead of doubling thy talent.
3. On this account God places together servants
and servants in order that the one set may judge the other, and that some
being judged by the others may not be able for the future to accuse the
master. On this account, he saith "The Son of Man cometh in the glory of
his Father."(1) See the equality of the glory: he does not say in glory
like to the glory of the Father, but in the glory of the Father, and will
gather together all the nations. Terrible is the tribunal: terrible to
the sinful, and the accountable. Since to those who are conscious to themselves
of good works, it is desirable and mild. "And he will place the sheep on
his right hand, and the kids on his left."(2) Both these and those are
men. For what reason then are those indeed sheep but these kids? Not that
thou mayest learn a difference in their nature, but the difference in their
purpose. But for what reason are the who did not show compassion kids?
Because that animal is unfruitful and is not able to contribute services,
either by its milk, or by progeny, or by its hair, to those who possess
it, being on all sides destitute of such a contribution as this, on account
of the immaturity of its age. On this account he has called those who bear
no fruit, by comparison, kids, but those on the right hand sheep. For from
these the offering is great, both of their natural wool, their progeny,
and their milk. What then does he say to them? "Ye saw me hungering and
ye fed me, naked and ye clothed me, a stranger and ye took me in." Again
to those he says the contrary. And yet both these and those were alike
men, both these and those received the same promises, the same rewards
were assigned to both on doing right. The same person came both to these
and to those, with the same nakedness: and to these and to those with the
same hunger, and in the same way and a stranger. All things were alike
to those and to these.
How then was the end not the same? Because the purpose
did not permit it. For this alone made the difference. On this account
the one set went to Gehenna, but the other to the Kingdom. But if the Devil
were the cause to them of their sins, these would not be destined to be
chastened, when another sinned and drove them on. Dost thou see here both
those who sin, and those who do good works? Dost thou see how on seeing
their fellow-servants they were silenced? Come and let us bring our discourse
to another example for thy benefit. There were ten virgins he says.(3)
Here again there are purposes which are upright, and purposes which are
sinful, in order thou mayest see side by side, both the sins of the one
and the good works of the others. For the comparison makes these things
the plainer. And these and those were virgins; and these were five, and
also those. All awaited the bridegroom. How then did some enter in, and
others did not enter in? Because some indeed were churlish, and others
were gentle and loving. Dost thou see again that the purpose determined
the nature of the end, not the Devil? Dost thou see that the judgments
were parallel, and that the verdict given proceeds from those who are like
each other? Fellow-servants will judge fellow-servants. Dost thou wish
that I should shew thee a comparison arising from contrasts? for there
is one also from contrasts so that the condemnation may become the greater.
"The men of Nineveh" he saith "shall rise up, and shall condemn this generation."(4)
The judged are no longer alike, for the one are barbarians, the others
are Jews. The one enjoyed prophetic teaching, the others were never partakers
of a divine instruction. And this is not the only difference, but the fact
that in that case a servant went to them, in this the master; and that
man came and proclaimed an overthrow; but this man declared the glad tidings
of a kingdom of heaven. Which of these was it the more likely, would believe?
The barbarians, and ignorant, and they who had never partaken of divine
teaching, or they who had from their earliest age been trained in prophetic
books? To every one, it is plain, that the Jews would be more likely to
believe. But the contrary took place. And these disbelieved the Master
when he preached a kingdom of heaven, but those believed their fellow-servant
when he threatened an overthrow: in order that their goodness, and these
men's folly might be manifested to a greater degree. Is there a Demon?
a Devil? chance? or Fate? has not each become the cause to himself both
of evil, and of virtue? For if they themselves were not to be liable to
account, he would not have said that they shall judge this generation.
Nor would he have said that the Queen of the
194
South would condemn the Jews. For then indeed not only will one people
condemn another people, but one man will often judge a whole people, when
they who, it is allowed, might readily have been deceived, are found to
remain undeceived, and they who ought in every way to have the advantage,
turn out to be worsted. On this account, we made mention of Adam and of
Job, for there is necessity to revert to that subject, so as to put the
finish to our discourse. He attacked Adam indeed by means of mere words,
but Job by means of deeds. For the one he denuded of all his wealth, and
deprived of his children. But from this man he took not away anything,
great or little of his possessions. But let us rather examine the very
words and the method of the plot. "The serpent came" saith he "and said
to the woman, What is it that God hath said, ye shall not eat of every
tree which is in the garden"(1) Here it is a serpent; there a woman, in
the case of Job: mean while great is the difference between the counsellors.
The one(2) is a servant, the other(3) a partner of the man's life. She
is a helpmate, but the other is under subjection. Dost thou see how unpardonable
this is? Eve indeed, the servant in subjection deceived: but him(4) not
even his partner, and helpmate could overthrow. But let us see what he
saith. "What is this that God hath said, thou shalt not eat of every tree?"
Assuredly indeed God did not say this but the opposite. See the villany
of the Devil. He said that which was not spoken, in order that he might
learn what was spoken. What then did the woman? She ought to have silenced
him, she ought not to have exchanged a word with him. In foolishness she
declared the judgment of the Master. Thereby she afforded the Devil a powerful
handle.
4. See what an evil it is to commit ourselves rashly
to our enemies, and to conspirators against us. On this account Christ
used to say, "Give not holy things to the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls
before the swine, lest they turn and rend you."(5 And this happened in
the case of Eve. She gave the holy things to the dog, to the swine. He
trod under foot the words: and turned and rent the woman. And see how he
works evil. "Ye shall not die the death" saith heft
Give me your attention on this point, that the woman
was able to understand the deceit. For he immediately announced his enmity,
and his warfare against God, he immediately contradicted Him. Let it be
so. Before this thou declaredst the judgment to one who wished to learn
it. After this why didst thou follow one who said the opposite? God said
ye shall die the death." The Devil made answer to this and said "ye shall
not die the death." What could be clearer than this warfare? From what
other quarter ought one to learn the enemy and the foe, than from his answer
returned to God? She ought then immediately to have fled from the bait,
she ought to have started back from the snare. "Ye shall not die the death,"
saith he "for God knoweth, that on the day on which ye eat, your eyes shall
be opened, and ye shall be as Gods. In hope of a greater promise she cast
away the goods in her hand. He promised that he would make them Gods, and
cast them down into the tyranny of death. Whence then O woman didst thou
believe the Devil? What good didst thou discern? Was not the trustworthiness
of the lawgiver sufficient to prove that the one was God, both creator
and framer of the world, and the other the Devil and an enemy? And I do
not say the Devil. Thou thoughtest that he was a mere serpent. Ought a
serpent to claim such equality that thou shouldest tell him the Master's
judgment? Thou seest that it was possible to perceive the deceit, but she
would not, and yet God gave many proofs of his own beneficence and shewed
forth his care of his works. For he formed man, who had not existed before;
and breathed a soul into him, and made him according to his image, making
him ruler of all things upon the earth, and granted him a helpmate, planted
Paradise, and having committed to him the use of the rest of the trees,
refused him the taste of one only: and this very prohibition he made for
man's advantage. But the Devil manifested no good things by his deed, whether
little, or great: but exciting the woman with mere words and puffing her
up with vain hopes, thus he deceived her. But nevertheless she considered
the Devil to be more worthy of credit than God, although God shewed forth
his good will by his works. The woman believed in one who professed mere
words, and nothing else. Dost thou see how, from folly alone and sloth,
and not from force, the deceit happened? and in order that thou mayest
learn it more clearly hear how the scripture accuses the woman: For it
does not say, being deceived, but "seeing the tree that it was fair, she
ate." So that the blame belongs to her uncontrolled vision, not to the
deceit alone which comes from the Devil. For she was defeated by yielding
to her own desire, not by the wickedness. of the Demon. On this count she
did not have the benefit of pardon, but though she said, "the serpent deceived
me," she paid the uttermost penalty. For it was in her power not to have
fallen. And in
195
order that thou mayest understand this more clearly, come, let us conduct
our discourse to the case of Job; from the defeated to the vanquisher,
from the conquered to the conqueror. For this man will give us greater
zeal, so that we may raise our hands against the Devil. There he who deceived
and conquered was a serpent; here the tempter was a woman, and she did
not prevail: and yet at least she was far more persuasive than he. For
to Job after the destruction of his wealth, after the loss of his children,
after being stripped bare of all his goods, her wiles were added. But in
the other case there was nothing of this kind. Adam did not suffer the
destruction! of his children, nor did he lose his wealth: he did not sit
upon a dunghill, but inhabited a Paradise of luxury and enjoyed all manner
of fruits, and fountains and rivers, and every other kind of security.
Nowhere was there labour or pain, or despair and cares, or reproaches,
and insults, or the countless ills which assailed Job: but nevertheless,
when nothing of this kind existed, he fell and was overthrown. Is it not
evident that it was on account of sloth? Even so therefore as the other,
when all these things beset him, and weighed upon him, stood nobly and
did not fall, is it not evident that his steadfastness was owing to his
vigilance of soul?
5. On both sides, beloved, reap the utmost gain,
and avoid the imitation of Adam knowing how many ills are begotten of indolence:
and imitate the piety of Job, learning how many glorious things spring
from earnestness. Consider him, the conqueror throughout, and thou shall
have much consolation in all pain: and peril. For as it were in the common
theatre of the world that blessed and noble man stands forth, and by means
of the sufferings which happened to him discourses to all to bear all things
which befal them nobly, and never give in to. the troubles which come upon
them. For verily, there is no human suffering which cannot receive consolation
from thence. For the sufferings which are scattered over the whole world,
these came together, and bore down upon one body, even his. What pardon
then shall there be for him who is unable to bear with thankfulness his
share of the troubles which are brought upon him? Since he appears not
bearing a part only, but the entire ills of all men, and in order that
thou mayest not condemn the extravagance of my words, come, and let us
take in hand severally the ills that came upon him, and bring forward this
fulfilment of them. And if thou wishest, let us first bring forward that
which seems to be the most unendurable of all, I mean poverty, and the
pain which arises from it. For everywhere all men bewail this. What was
poorer then than Job, who was poorer than the outcasts at the baths, and
those who sleep in the ashes of the furnace, poorer in fact than all men?
For these indeed have one ragged garment, but he sat naked, and had only
the garment which nature supplies, the clothing of the flesh, and this
the Devil destroyed on all sides, with a distressing kind of decay. Again
these poor folk are at least under the roof of the porches at the baths,
and are covered with a shelter. But he continued always to pass his nights
in the open air, not having even the consolation of a bare roof. And, what
is still greater, the fact that these are conscious of many terrible evils
within themselves, but he was conscious of nothing against himself. For
this is to be noticed in each of the things which happened to him, a thing
which caused him greater pain, and produced more perplexity; the ignorance
of the reason of what took place. These persons then, as I said, would
have many things with which to reproach themselves. And this contributes
no little to consolation in calamity; to be conscious in oneself of being
punished justly. But he was deprived of this consolation, and while exhibiting
a conversation full of virtue, endured the fate of those who had dared
to do extreme wickedness. And these folk who are with us, are poor from
the outset, and from the beginning are versed in calamity. But he endured
calamity in which he was unversed, experiencing the immense change from
wealth. As then the knowledge of the cause of what takes place, is the
greatest consolation; so it is not less than this, to have been versed
in poverty from the beginning, and so to continue in it. Of both these
consolations that man was deprived, and not even then, did he fall away.
Dost thou see him indeed come to extreme poverty, even in comparison with
which it is impossible to find a fellow? For what could be poorer than
the naked who has not even a roof over him? Yea rather not even was it
in his power to enjoy the bare ground, but he sat upon the dunghill. Therefore
whenever thou seest thyself come to poverty, consider the suffering of
the just one, and straightway thou shalt rise up, and shake off every thought
of despondency. This one calamity therefore seems to men to be the groundwork
of all sufferings together. And the second after it, yea rather before
it, is the affliction of the body. Who then was even so disabled? Who endured
such disease? Who received or saw any one else receive so great an affliction?
No one. Little by little his body was wasted, and a stream of worms on
every side issued from his limbs, the running was constant, and the evil
smell which surrounded him was
196
strong, and the body being destroyed little by little, and decaying
with such putrefaction, used to make food distasteful and hunger was to
him strange and unusual. For not even was he able to enjoy the nourishment
which was given to him. For saith he "I see my food to be loathsome."(1)
Whenever then thou fallest into weakness, O man, remember that body and
that saintly flesh. For it was saintly and pure, even when it had so many
wounds. And if any one belong to the army, and then unjustly and without
any reasonable pretext, be hanged upon the pillory, and has his sides rasped
to pieces, let him not think the matter to be a reproach, nor let him give
way to the pain when he thinks upon this saint. But this man, says one,
has much comfort and consolation in knowing that God was bringing these
sufferings upon him. This indeed especially troubled and disturbed him,
to think that the just God who had in every way been served By him, was
at war with him. And he was not able to find any reasonable pretext for
what took place, since, when at least he afterwards learned the cause,
see what piety he shewed, for when God said to him "Dost thou think that
I have had dealings with thee in order that thou mightest appear righteous?"(2)
conscious-stricken he says "I will lay my hand upon my mouth, once have
I spoken but to a second word I will not proceed,"(3) and again "as far
as the hearing of the ear I have heard thee before, but now mine eye hath
seen thee, wherefore I have held myself to be vile, and am wasted away,
and I consider myself to be earth and ashes.(4)
6. But if thou thinkest that this is sufficient
for consolation, thou wilt thyself also be able to experience this comfort.
And even if thou dost not suffer any of these misfortunes at the hands
of God but owing to the insolence of men; and yet givest thanks and dost
not blaspheme him who is able to prevent them indeed, but who permits them
for the sake of testing thee: just as they who suffer at the hands of God
are crowned, so also thou shalt obtain the same reward, because thou hast
borne nobly the calamities which were brought upon thee from men, and didst
give thanks to him who was able indeed to hinder them, but not willing.
Behold then! thou hast seen poverty and disease,
and both in the extremest degree brought upon this just man. Dost thou
wish that I should shew thee the warfare at nature's hands, in such excessive
degree waged then against this noble man? He lost ten children, the ten
at one fell swoop, the ten in the very bloom of youth, ten who displayed
much virtue, and that not by the common law of nature, but by a violent
and pitiable death. Who could be able to recount so great a calamity? No
one. Whenever therefore thou losest son and daughter together, have recourse
to this just man, and thou shalt find altogether much comfort for thyself.
Were these then the only misfortunes which happened to him? The desertion
and treachery of his friends, and the gibes, and raillery, and the mockery
and derision, and the tearing in pieces by all, was something intolerable.
For the character of calamities is not of such a kind, that they who reproach
us about our calamities are wont to vex our soul. Not only was there no
one to soothe him but many even on many sides beset him with taunts. And
thou seest him lamenting this bitterly, and saying "but even you too fell
upon me."(5) And he calls them pitiless, and says "My neighbours have rejected
me, and my servants spake against me, and I called the sons of my concubines,
and they turned away from me."(6) "And others" saith he "sport upon me,
and I became the common talk of all.(7) And my very raiment" saith he "abhorred
me"(8) These things at least are unbearable to hear, still more to endure
in their reality, extreme poverty, and intolerable disease new and strange,
the loss of children so many and so good, and in such a manner, reproaches
and gibes, and insults from men. Some indeed mocked and some reproached
and others despised; not only enemies, but even friends; not only friends,
but even servants, and they not only mock and reproach, but even abhorred
him, and this not for two or three, or ten days, but for many months; and
(a circumstance which happened in that man's case alone) not even had he
comfort by night, but the delusions of terrors by night were a greater
aggravation of his misfortunes by day. For that he endured more grievous
things in his sleep, hear what he says "why dost thou frighten me in sleep,
and terrify me in visions?"[9] What man of iron what heart of steel could
have endured so many misfortunes? For if each of these was unbearable in
itself, consider what a tumult their simultaneous approach excited. But
nevertheless he bore all these, and in all that happened to him he sinned
not, nor was there guile in his lips.
7. Let the sufferings of that man then be the medicines
for our ills, and his grievous surging sea the harbour of our sufferings,
and in each of the accidents which befal us, let us consider this saint,
and seeing one person ex-
197
hausting the misfortunes of the universe, we shall conduct ourselves bravely in those which fall to our share, and as to some affectionate mother, stretching forth her hands on all sides, and receiving and reviving her terrified children, so let us always flee to this book, and even if the pitiable troubles of all men assail us, let us take sufficient comfort for all and so depart. And if thou sayest, he was Job, and for this reason bore all this, but I am not like him; thou suppliest me with a greater accusation against thyself and fresh praise of him. For it is more likely that thou shouldest be able to bear all this than he. Why pray? Because he indeed was before the day of grace and of the law, when there was not much strictness of life, when the grace of the Spirit was not so great, when sin was hard to fight against, when the curse prevailed and when death was terrible. But now our wrestlings have become easier, all these things being removed after the coming of Christ; so that we have no excuse, when we are unable to reach the same standard as he, after so long a time, and such advantage, and so many gifts given to us by God. Considering therefore all these things, that misfortunes were greater for him, and that when the conflict was more grievous, then he stripped for the contest; let us bear all that comes upon us nobly, and with much thankfulness, in order that we may be able to obtain the same crown as he, by the grace and lovingkindness of Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom be glory to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and for ever and ever. Amen.
AGAINST MARCIONISTS AND MANICHÆZANS.
ON THE PASSAGE "FATHER IF IT BE POSSIBLE LET THIS CUP PASS FROM ME,
NEVERTHELESS NOT AS I WILL BUT AS THOU WILT:" AND AGAINST MARCIONISTS AND
MANICHÆANS: ALSO, THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO RUSH INTO DANGER, BUT TO PREFER
THE WILL OF GOD BEFORE EVERY OTHER WILL.
1. I LATELY inflicted a severe stroke upon those
who are grasping and wish to overreach others;(1) I did this not in order
to wound them but in order to correct them; not because I hate the men,
but because I detest their wickedness. For so the physician also lances
the abscess, not as making an attack upon the suffering body, but as a
means of contending with the disorder and the wound. Well to-day let us
grant them a little respite, that they may recover from their distress,
and not recoil from the remedy by being perpetually afflicted. Physicians
also act thus; after the use of the knife they apply plasters and drugs,
and let a few days pass whilst they devise things to allay the pain. Following
their example let me today, devising means for them to derive benefit from
my discourse, start a question concerning doctrine, directing my speech
to the words which have been read. For I imagine that many feel perplexed
as to the reason why these words were uttered by Christ: and it is probable
also that any heretics who are present may pounce upon the words, and thereby
upset many of the more simple-minded brethren.
In order then to build a wall against their attack
and to relieve those who are in perplexity from bewilderment and confusion,
let us take in hand the words which have been cited, and dwell upon the
passage, and dive into the depths of its meanings. For reading does not
suffice unless knowledge also be added to it. Even as the eunuch of Candace
read, but until one came who instructed him in the meaning of what he was
reading he derived no great benefit from it. In order therefore that
you may not be in the same condition attend to what is said, exert your
understanding, let me have your mind disengaged from other thoughts, let
your eye be quick-sighted, your intention earnest: let your soul be set
free from worldly cares, that we may not sow our words upon the thorns,
or upon the rock, or by the way side, but that we may till a deep and rich
field, and so reap an abundant harvest. For if you thus attend to what
is said you will render my labour lighter and facilitate the discovery
of that which you are seeking.
What then is the meaning of the passage which has
been read "Father if it be possible let this cup pass from me?" What does
the saying mean? For we ought to unlock the passage by first giving a clear
interpretation of the words. What then does the saying mean? "Father if
it be possible take away the cross." How sayest thou? is he ignorant whether
this be possible or impossible? Who would venture to say this? Yet the
words are those of one who is ignorant: for the addition of the word "if,"
is indicative of doubt: but as I said we must not attend to the words merely,
but turn our attention to the sense, and learn the aim of the speaker,
and the cause and the occasion, and by putting all these things together
turn out the hidden meaning. The unspeakable Wisdom then, who knoweth the
Father even as the Father knoweth the Son, how should he have been ignorant
of this?
202
For this knowledge concerning His passion was not greater than the knowledge
concerning His essential nature, which He alone accurately knew. "For as
the Father knoweth me"' He says "even so know I the Father."(1) And why
do I speak of the only begotten Son of God? For even the prophets appear
not to have been ignorant of this fact, but to have known it clearly, and
to have declared beforehand with much assurance that so it must come to
pass, and would certainly be.
Hear at least how variously all announce the cross.
First of all the patriarch Jacob: for directing his discourse to Him he
says "Out of a tender shoot didst thou spring up:"(2) by the word shoot
signifying the Virgin and the undefiled nature of Mary. Then indicating
the cross he said "Thou didst lie down and slumber as a lion, and as a
lion's whelp; who shall raise him up?"(3) Here he called death a slumbering
and a sleep, and with death he combined the resurrection when he said "who
shall raise him up?" No one indeed save he himself--wherefore also Christ
said "I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it again,"(4)
and again "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up."(5)
And what is meant by the words "thou didst lie down and slumber as a lion?"
For as the lion is terrible not only when he is awake but even when he
is sleeping, so Christ also not only before the cross but also on the cross
itself and in the very moment of death was terrible, and wrought at that
time great miracles, turning back the light of the sun, cleaving the rocks,
shaking the earth, rending the veil, alarming the wife of Pilate, convicting
Judas of sin, for then he said "I have sinned in that I have betrayed the
innocent blood;"(6) and the wife of Pilate declared "Have nothing to do
with that just man, for I have suffered many things in a dream because
of Him."(7) The darkness took possession of the earth, and night
appeared at midday, then death was brought to nought, and his tyranny
was destroyed: many bodies at least of the saints which slept arose.
These things the patriarch declaring beforehand, and demonstrating
that, even when crucified, Christ would be terrible, said "thou didst lie
down and slumber as a lion." He did not say thou shall slumber but thou
didst slumbe, rbecause it would certainly come to pass. For it is the
custom of the prophets in many places to predict things to come as if they
were already past. For just as it is impossible that things
which have happened should not have happened, so is it impossible that
this should not happen, although it be future. On this account they predict
things to come under the semblance of past time, indicating by this means
the impossibility of their failure, the certainty of their coming to pass.
So also spake David, signifying the cross; "They pierced my hands and my
feet."(8) He did not say they "shall pierce" but "they pierced" "they counted
all my bones."(9) And not only does he say this, but he also describes
the things which were done by the soldiers. "They parted my garments among
themselves, and upon my vesture did they cast lots."(10) And not only this
but he also relates they gave Him gall to eat, and vinegar to drink. For
he says "they gave me gall for my food, and for my thirst they gave me
vinegar to drink."(11) And again another one says that they smote him with
a spear, for "they shall look on Him whom they pierced."(12) Esaias again
in another fashion predicting the cross said He was led as a sheep to the
slaughter, and as a lamb before his shearer is dumb, so openeth he not
his mouth." In his humiliation his judgment was taken away."(13)
2. Now observe I pray how each one of these writers
speaks as if concerning things already past, signifying by the use of this
tense the absolute inevitable certainty of the event. So also David, describing
this tribunal, said, "Why did the heathen rage and the people imagine vain
things? The Kings of the earth stood up, and the rulers were gathered together
against the Lord and against his Christ."(14) And not only does he
mention the trial, and the cross, and the incidents on the
cross, but also him who betrayed him, declaring that he was his familiar
companion and guest. "For," he saith, "he that eateth bread with me did
magnify his heel against me."(15) Thus also does he foretell the voice
which Christ was to utter on the cross saying "My God, My God why hast
thou forsaken me?"(16) and the burial also does he describe: "They laid
me in the lowest pit, in dark places, and in the shadow of death."(17)
And the resurrection: "thou shalt not leave my soul in hell, neither shalt
thou suffer thy Holy One to see corruption;"(18) and the ascension: "God
has gone up with a merry noise, the Lord with the sound of the trump."(19)
And the session on the right hand: "The Lord said to my Lord sit thou on
my right hand until I make thy foes thy footstool."(20) But Esaias also
declares the cause; saying, "for the transgressions of my
203
people is He brought to death,"(1) and because all have strayed like sheep, therefore is he sacrificed."(2) Then also he adds mention of the result, saying "by his stripes we have all been healed:"(3) and "he hath borne the sins of many."(4) The prophets then knew the cross, and the cause of the cross and that which was effected by it, and the burial and the resurrection, and the ascension, and the betrayal, and the trial, and described them all with accuracy: and is He who sent them and commanded them to speak these things ignorant of them Himself? What reasonable man would say that? Seest thou that we must not attend merely to the words? For this is not the only perplexing passage, but what follows is more perplexing. For what does He say? "Father if it be possible let this cup pass from me." Here he will be found to speak not only as if ignorant, but as if deprecating the cross: For this is what He says. "If it be permissible let me not be subjected to crucifixion and death." And yet when Peter, the leader of the apostles, said this to Him, "Be it far from thee Lord, this shall not happen unto Thee," He rebuked him so severely as to say; "get thee behind me Satan, thou art an offence unto me, for thou savourest not the things which be of God, but those which be of men:"(5) although a short time before he had pronounced him blessed. But to escape crucifixion seemed to Him so monstrous a thing, that him who had received the revelation from the Father, him whom He had pronounced blessed, him who had received the keys of Heaven, He called Satan, and an offence, and accused him of not savouring the things which be of God because he said to Him, "Be it far from thee Lord, this shall never be unto Thee"--namely crucifixion. He then who thus vituperated the disciple, and poured such an invective upon him as actually to call him Satan (after having bestowed such great praise on him), because he said "avoid crucifixion," how could He desire not to be crucified? and how after these things when drawing the picture of the good shepherd could He declare this to be the special proof of his virtue, that he should be sacrificed for the sake of the sheep, thus saying, "I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep?"(6) Nor did He even stop there, but also added, "but he that is an hireling and not the shepherd seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth."(7) If then it is the sign of the good shepherd to sacrifice himself, and of the hireling to be unwilling to undergo this, how can He who calls Himself the good shepherd beseech that he may not be sacrificed? And how could He say "I lay down my life of myself"? For if thou layest down thy life of thyself, how canst thou beseech another that thou mayest not lay it down? And how is it that Paul marvels at Him on account of this declaration, saying "Who being in the form of God counted it not a prize to be on an equality with God, but emptied Himself taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a man he humbled himself, becoming obedient even unto death, yea, the death of the cross."(8) And He Himself again speaks in this wise, "For this cause doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life that I may take it again."(9) For if He does not desire to lay it down, but deprecates the act, and beseeches the Father, how is it that He is loved on this account? For love is of those who are like minded. And how does Paul say again "Love one another even as Christ also loved us and gave Himself for us?"(10) And Christ Himself when He was about to be crucified said "Father, the hour has come: glorify thy Son,"(11) speaking of the cross as glory: and how then does He deprecate it here when He urges it there? For that the cross is glory listen to what the evangelist says "the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because Jesus was not yet glorified."(12) Now the hearing of this expression is "grace was not yet given because the enmity towards men was not yet destroyed by reason that the cross had not yet done its work." For the cross destroyed the enmity of God towards man, brought about the reconciliation, made the earth Heaven, associated men with angels, pulled down the citadel of death, unstrung the force of the devil, extinguished the power of sin, delivered the world from error, brought back the truth, expelled the Demons, destroyed temples, overturned altars, suppressed the sacrificial offering, implanted virtue, rounded the Churches. The cross is the will of the Father, the glory of the Son, the rejoicing of the Spirit, the boast of Paul, "for," he says, "God forbid that I should boast save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ."(13) The cross is that which is brighter than the sun, more brilliant than the sunbeam: for when the sun is darkened then the cross shines brightly: and the sun is darkened not because it is extinguished, but because it is overpowered by the brilliancy of the cross. The cross has broken our bond, it has made the prison of death ineffectual, it is the demonstration of the love of God. "For
204
God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that
every one who believes m Him should not perish."(1) And again Paul says
"If being enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son."(2)
The cross is the impregnable wall, the invulnerable shield, the safeguard
of the rich, the resource of the poor, the defence of those who are exposed
to snares, the armour of those who are attacked, the means of suppressing
passion, and of acquiring virtue, the wonderful and marvellous sign. "For
this generation seeketh after a sign: and no sign shall be given it save
the sign of Jonas";(3) and again Paul says, "for the Jews ask for a sign
and the Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified."(4) The cross
opened Paradise, it brought in the robber, it conducted into the kingdom
of Heaven the race of man which was about to perish, and was not worthy
even of earth. So great are the benefits which have sprung and do spring
from the cross, and yet doth He not desire to be crucified I ask? Who would
venture to say this? And if He did not desire it who compelled Him, who
forced Him to it? and why did He send prophets beforehand announcing that
He would be crucified, if He was not to be, and did not wish to undergo
it? And for what reason does He call the cross a cup, if He did not desire
to be crucified? For that is the word of one who signifies the desire which
he has concerning the act. For as the cup is sweet to those who are thirsty
so also was crucifixion to Him: wherefore also He said "With desire have
I desired to eat this Passover with you,"(5) and this He meant not absolutely,
but relatively, because after that evening the cross was awaiting Him.
3. He then who calls the thing glory, and rebukes
the disciple because he was trying to hinder Him, and proves that what
constitutes the good shepherd is his sacrificing himself on behalf of the
sheep, and declares that he earnestly longs for this thing, and willingly
goes to meet it, how is it that He beseeches it may not come to pass? And
if He did not wish it what difficulty was there in hindering those who
came for that purpose? But in fact you behold Him hastening towards the
deed. At least when they came upon Him He said "Whom seek ye?" and they
replied "Jesus." Then He saith to them "Lo! I am He: and they went backward
and fell to the ground."(6) Thus having first crippled them and proved
that He was able to escape their hands, He then surrendered Himself, that
thou mightest learn that not by compulsion or force, or the tyrannical
power of those who attacked Him, did He unwillingly submit to this, but
willingly with purpose and desire, preparing for it a long time before.
Therefore also were prophets sent beforehand, and patriarchs foretold the
events, and by means of words and deeds the cross was prefigured. For the
sacrifice of Isaac also signified the cross to us: wherefore also Christ
said "Abraham your father rejoiced to see my glory and he saw it and was
glad."(7) The patriarch then was glad beholding the image of the cross,
and does He Himself deprecate it? Thus Moses also prevailed over Amalek
when he displayed the figure of the cross: and one may observe countless
things happening in the Old Testament descriptive by anticipation of the
cross. For what reason then was this the case if He who was to be crucified
did not wish it to come to pass? And the sentence which follows this is
yet more perplexing. For having said "Let this cup pass from me He added
"nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt."(8) For herein as far as
the actual expression is concerned we find two wills opposed to one another:
if at least the Father desires Him to be crucified, but He Himself does
not desire it. And yet we everywhere behold Him desiring and purposing
the same things as the Father. For when He says "grant to them, as I and
Thou are one that they also may be one in us,"(9) it is equivalent to saying
that the purpose of the Father and of the Son is one. And when He says
"The words which I speak I speak not myself, but the Father which dwelleth
in me, He doeth these works,"(10) He indicates the same thing. And when
He says "I have not come of myself"(11) and "I can of my own self do nothing"(12)he
does not say this as signifying that He has been deprived of authority,
either to speak or to act (away with the thought!),but as desiring to prove
the concord of his purpose, both in words and deeds, and in every kind
of transaction, to be one and the same with the Father, as I have already
frequently demonstrated. For the expression "I speak not of myself" is
not an abrogation of authority but a demonstration of agreement. How then
does He say here "Nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt"? Perhaps
I have excited a great conflict in your mind, but be on the alert: for
although many words have been uttered I know well that your zeal is still
fresh: for the discourse is now hastening on to the solution. Why then
has this form of speech been employed? Attend carefully, The doctrine of
the incarnation was very hard to receive. For the exceeding measure of
His lovingkindness and the magnitude of His con
205
descension were full of awe, and needed much preparation to be accepted.
For consider what a great thing it was to hear and to learn that God the
ineffable, the incorruptible, the unintelligible, the invisible, the incomprehensible,
in whose hand are the ends of the earth,(1) who looketh upon the earth,
and causeth it to tremble, who toucheth the mountains, and maketh them
smoke,(2) the weight of whose condescension not even the Cherubim were
able to bear but veiled their faces by the shelter of their wings, that
this God who surpasses all understanding, and baffles all calculation,
having passed by angels, archangels, and all the spiritual powers above,
deigned to become man, and to take flesh formed of earth and clay, and
enter the womb of a virgin, and be borne there the space of nine months,
and be nourished with milk, and suffer all things to which man is liable.
Inasmuch then as that which was to happen was so strange as to be disbelieved
by many even when it had taken place, He first of all sends prophets beforehand,
announcing this very fact. For instance the patriarch predicted it saying
"Thou didst spring from a tender shoot my son: thou didst lie down and
slumber as a lion;"(3) and Esaias saying "Behold the Virgin shall conceive
and bear a son and they shall call His name Emmanuel;"(4) and elsewhere
again "We beheld Him as a young child, as a root in a dry ground;"(5) and
by the dry ground he means the virgin's womb. And again "unto us a child
is born, unto us a son is given?"(6) and again "there shall come forth
a rod out of the root of Jesse, and a flower shall spring out of his root."(7)
And Baruch in the book of Jeremiah says "this is our God: no other shall
be reckoned by the side of Him: He found out every path of
knowledge and gave it to Jacob His servant, and lsrael his beloved.
After these things also He appeared upon the earth, and held converse with
men."(8) And David signifying His incarnate presence said "He shall come
down like the rain into a fleece of wool, and like the drop which distills
upon the earth"(9) because He noiselessly and gently entered into the Virgin's
womb.
4. But these proofs alone did not suffice, but even
when He had come, lest what had taken place should be deemed an illusion,
He warranted the fact not only by the sight but by duration of time and
by passing through all the phases incident to man. For He did not enter
once for all into a man matured and completely developed, but into a virgin's
womb, so as to undergo the process of gestation and birth and
suckling and growth, and by the length of the time and the variety of the
stages of growth to give assurance of what had come to pass. And not even
here were the proofs concluded, but even when bearing about the body of
flesh He suffered it to experience the infirmities of human nature and
to be hungry, and thirsty, and to sleep and feel fatigue; finally also
when He came to the cross He suffered it to undergo the pains of the flesh.
For this reason also streams of sweat flowed down from it and an angel
was discovered strengthening it, and He was sad and down-cast: for before
He uttered these words He said "my soul is troubled, and exceeding sorrowful
ever unto death?"(10) If then after all these things have taken place the
wicked mouth of the devil speaking through Marcion of Pontus, and Valentinus,
and Manichaeus of Persia and many more heretics, has attempted to overthrow
the doctrine of the Incarnation and has vented a diabolical utterance declaring
that He did not become flesh, nor was clothed with it, but that this was
mere fancy, and illusion, a piece of acting and pretence, although the
sufferings, the death, the burial, the thirst, cry aloud against this teaching;
supposing that none of these things had happened would not the devil have
sown these wicket doctrines of impiousness much more widely? For this reason,
just as He hungered, as He slept, as He felt fatigue, as He ate and drank,
so also did He deprecate death, thereby manifesting his humanity, and that
infirmity of human nature which does not submit without pain to be torn
from this present life. For had He not uttered any of these things, it
might have been said that if He were a man He ought to have experienced
human feelings. And what are these? in the case of one about to be crucified,
fear and agony, and pain in being torn from present life: for a sense of
the charm which surrounds present things is implanted in human nature:
on this account wishing to prove the reality of the fleshly clothing, and
to give assurance of the incarnation He manifests the actual feelings of
man with full demonstration.
This is one consideration, but there is another
no less important. And what is this? Christ having come to earth wished
to instruct men in all virtue: now the instructor teaches not only by word,
but also by deed: for this is the teacher's best method of teaching. A
pilot for instance when he makes the apprentice sit by his side shows
him how he handles the rudder, but he also joins speech to action, and
does not depend upon words alone or example
206
alone: in like manner also an architect when he has placed by his side the man who is intended to learn from him how a wall is contructed, shows him the way by means of action as well as by means of oral teaching; so also with the weaver, and embroiderer, and gold refiner, and coppersmith;--and every kind of art has teachers who instruct both orally and practically. Inasmuch then as Christ Himself came to instruct us in all virtue, He both tells us what ought to be done, and does it. "For," he says, "he who does and teaches the same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven."(1) Now observe; He commanded men to be lowly-minded, and meek, and He taught this by His words: but see how He also teaches it by His deeds. For having said "Blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are the meek,"(2) He shows how these virtues ought to be practised. How then did He teach them? He took a towel and girded Himself and washed the disciples' feet.(3) What can match this lowliness of mind? for He teaches this virtue no longer by His words only but also by His deeds. Again He teaches meekness and forbearance by His acts. How so? He was struck on the face by the servant of the high priest, and said "If I have spoken evil bear witness of the evil: but if well why smitest thou me?"(4) He commanded men to pray for their enemies: this also again He teaches by means of His acts: for when He had ascended the cross He said "Father forgive them for they know not what they do."(5) As therefore He commanded men to pray so does He Himself pray, instructing thee to do so by his own unflagging utterances of prayer. Again He commanded us to do good to those who hate us, and to deal fairly with those who treat us despitefully:(6) and this He did by his own acts: for he cast devils out of the Jews, who said that He Himself was possessed by a devil, He bestowed benefits on His persecutors, He fed those who were forming designs against Him, He conducted into His kingdom those who were desiring to crucify Him. Again He said to His disciples "Get you no gold nor silver neither brass in your purses,"(7) thus training them for poverty: and this also He taught by His example, thus saying, "Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay His head."(8) And He had neither table nor dwelling nor anything else of that kind: not because He was at a loss to obtain them, but because He was instructing men to go in that path. After the same manner then he taught them also to pray. They said to Him "Teach us to pray."(9) Therefore also He prays, in order that they may learn to pray. But it was necessary for them not merely to learn to pray but also how they ought to pray: for this reason He delivered to them a prayer in this form: "Our Father which art in Heaven hallowed be thy name, Thy kingdom come: Thy will be done, as in Heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our daily bread: and forgive us our debts as we also forgive our debtors: and lead us not into temptation:"(10) that is into danger, into snares. Since then He commanded them to pray "lead us not into temptation," He instructs them in this very precept by putting it m practice Himself, saying "Father if it be possible, let this cup pass away from me, thus teaching all the saints not to plunge into dangers, not to fling themselves into them but to wait for their approach, and to exhibit all possible courage, only not to rush forwards themselves, or to be the first to advance against terrors. Why so, pray? both to teach us lowliness of mind, and also to deliver us from the charge of vainglory. On this account it is said also in this passage that when He had spoken these words "He went away and prayed:" and after He had prayed He speaks thus to His disciples "Could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation."(11) Seest thou He not only prays but also admonishes? "For the Spirit indeed is willing," He said, "but the flesh is weak."(12) Now this He said by way of emptying their soul of vanity, and delivering them from pride, teaching them self-restraint, training them to practice moderation. Therefore the prayer which He wished to teach them, He Himself also offered, speaking after the manner of men, not according to His Godhead (for the divine nature is impassable) but according to His manhood. And He prayed as instructing us to pray, and even to seek deliverance from distress; but, if this be not permitted, then to acquiesce in what seems good to God. Therefore He said "Nevertheless not as I will but as Thou wilt:" not because He had one will and the Father another; but in order that He might instruct men even if they were in distress and trembling, even if danger came upon them, and they were unwilling to be torn from present life, nevertheless to postpone their own will to the will of God: even as Paul also when he had been instructed practically exhibited both these principles; for he besought that temptations might be removed from him, thus saying "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice:"(13) and yet since it
207
did not please God to remove it, he says "Wherefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in l insults, in persecutions."(1) But perhaps what I have said is not quite clear: therefore I will make it clearer. Paul incurred many dangers and prayed that he might not be exposed to them. Then he heard Christ saying "my grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness."(2) As soon then as he saw what the will of God was, he in future submitted his will to God's will. By means of this prayer then Christ taught both these truths, that we should not plunge into dangers, but rather pray that we may not fall into them; but if they come upon us we should bear them bravely, and postpone our own will to the will of God. Knowing these things then let us pray that we may never enter into temptation: but if we do enter it let us beseech God to give us patience and courage, and let us honour His will in preference to every will of our own. For then we shall pass through this present life with safety, and shall obtain the blessings to come: which may we all receive by the favour and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom be to the Father, together with the Holy Ghost, glory, might, honour, now and for ever world without end. Amen.
HOMILY ON THE PARALYTIC LET DOWN
THROUGH THE ROOF.
1. HAVING lately come across the incident of the
paralytic(1) who lay upon his bed beside the pool, we discovered a rich
and large treasure, not by delving in the ground, but by diving into his
heart: we found a treasure not containing silver and gold and precious
stones, but endurance, and philosophy, and patience and much hope towards
God, which is more valuable than any kind of jewel or source of wealth.
For material riches are liable to the designs of robbers, and the tales
of false accusers, and the violence of housebreakers, and the villany of
servants, and when they have escaped all these things, they often bring
the greatest ruin upon those who possess them by exciting the eyes of the
envious, and consequently breeding countless storms of trouble. But the
spiritual riches escape all these occasions of mischief and are superior
to all abuse of this kind, laughing to scorn both robbers, and housebreakers,
and slanderers, and false accusers and death itself. For they are not parted
from the possessor by death, but on the contrary the possession becomes
then more especially secured to the owners, and they accompany them on
their journey to the other world, and are transplanted with them to the
future life, and become marvellous advocates of those with whom they depart
hence, and render the judge propitious to them.
This wealth we found in great abundance stored in
the soul of the paralytic. And you are witnesses who with great zeal drew
up draughts of this treasure yet without exhausting it. For such is the
nature of spiritual wealth; it resembles fountains of water, or rather
exceeds their plenteousness, being most abundant when it has many to draw
upon it. For when it enters into any man's soul it is not divided, not
diminished, but coming in its entireness to each remains continually unconsumed,
being incapable of ever failing: which was just what took place at that
time. For although so many have applied to the treasure, and all are drawing
upon it as much as they can--but why do I speak of you, seeing that it
has made countless persons rich from that time to the present day, and
yet abides in its original perfection? Let us not then grow weary in having
recourse to this source of spiritual wealth: but as far as possible let
us now also draw forth draughts from it, and let us gaze upon our merciful
Lord, gaze upon His patient servant. He had been thirty and eight years
struggling with an incurable infirmity and was perpetually plagued by it,
yet he did not repine, he did not utter a blasphemous word, he did not
accuse his Maker, but endured his calamity bravely and with much meekness.
And whence is this manifest? you say: for Scripture has not told us anything
clearly concerning his former life, but only that he had been thirty-eight
years in his infirmity; it has not added a word to prove that he did not
show discontent, or anger or petulance. And yet it has made this plain
also, if any one will pay careful attention to it, not looking at it curiously
and carelessly. For when you hear that on the approach of Christ who was
a stranger to him, and regarded merely as a man, he spoke to him with such
great meekness, you may be able to perceive his former wisdom. For when
Jesus said to him "Wilt thou be made whole?" he did not make the natural
reply "thou seest me who have been this long time lying sick of the palsy,
and dost thou ask
212
me if I wish to be made whole? hast thou come to insult my distress,
to reproach me and laugh me to scorn and make a mock of my calamity? He
did not say or conceive anything of this kind but meekly replied "Yea Lord."(1)
Now if after thirty-eight; years he was thus meek and gentle, when all
the vigour and strength of his reasoning faculties was broken down, consider
what he is likely to have been at the outset of his trouble. For be assured
that invalids are not so hard to please at the beginning of their disorder,
as they are after a long lapse of time: they become most intract able,
most intolerable to all, when the malady is prolonged. But as he, after
so many years, was so wise, and replied with so much forbearance, it is
quite clear that during the previous time also he had been bearing that
calamity with much thankfulness.
Considering these things then let us imitate the
patience of our fellow-servant: for his paralysis is sufficient to brace
up our souls: for no one can be so supine and indolent after having observed
the magnitude of that calamity as not to endure bravely all evils which
may befall him, even if they are more intolerable than all that were ever
known. For not only his soundness but also his sickness has become a cause
of the greatest benefit to us: for his cure has stimulated the souls of
the hearers to speak the praise of the Lord, and his sickness and infirmity
has encouraged you to patience, and urged you to match his zeal; or rather
it has exhibited to you the lovingkindness of God. For the actual deliverance
of the man. to such a malady, and the protracted duration of his infirmity
is a sign of the greatest care for his welfare. For as a gold refiner having
cast a piece of gold into the furnace suffers it to be proved by the fire
until such time as he sees it has become purer: even so God permits the
souls of men to be tested by troubles until they become pure and transparent
and have reaped much profit from this process of sifting: wherefore this
is the greatest species of benefit.
2. Let us not then be disturbed, neither dismayed,
when trials befall us. For if the gold refiner sees how long he ought to
leave the piece of gold in the furnace, and when he ought to draw it out,
and does not allow it to remain in the fire until it is destroyed and burnt
up: much more does God understand this, and when He sees that we have become
more pure, He releases us from our trials so that we may not be overthrown
and cast down by the multiplication of our evils. Let us then not be repining,
or faint-hearted, when some unexpected thing befalls us; but let us suffer
Him who knows these things accurately, to prove our hearts by fire as long
as He pleases: for He does this for a useful purpose and with a view to
the profit of those who are tried.
On this account a certain wise man admonishes us
saying "My Son, if thou come to serve the Lord prepare thy soul for temptation,
set thy heart aright and constantly endure and make not haste in time of
trouble";(2) "yield to Him" he says, "in all things," for He knoweth exactly
when it is right to pluck us out of the furnace of evil. We ought therefore
everywhere to yield to Him and always to give thanks, and to bear all things
contentedly, whether He bestows benefits or chastisement upon us, for this
also is a species of benefit. For the physician, not only when he bathes
and nourishes the patient and conducts him into pleasant gardens, but also
when he uses cautery and the knife, is a physician all the same: and a
father not only when he caresses his son, but also when he expels him from
his house, and when he chides and scourges him, is a father all the same,
no less than when he praises him. Knowing therefore that God is more tenderly
loving than all physicians, do not enquire too curiously concerning His
treatment nor demand an account of it from Him, but whether He is pleased
to let us go free or whether He punishes, let us offer ourselves for either
alike; for He seeks by means of each to lead us back to health, and to
communion with Himself, and He knows our several needs, and what is expedient
for each one, and how and in what manner we ought to be saved, and along
that path He leads us. Let us then follow whither-soever He bids us, and
let us not too carefully consider whether He commands us to go by a smooth
and easy path, or by a difficult and rugged one: as in the case of this
paralytic. It was one species of benefit indeed that his soul should be
purged by the long duration of his suffering, being delivered to the fiery
trial of affliction as to a kind of furnace; but it was another benefit
no less than this that God was present with him in the midst of the trials,
and afforded him great consolation. He it was who strengthened him, and
upheld him, and stretched forth a hand to him, and suffered him not to
fall. But when you hear that it was God Himself do not deprive the paralytic
of his meed of praise, neither him nor any other man who is tried and yet
steadfastly endures. For even if we be infinitely wise, even if we are
mightier and stronger than all men, yet in the absence of His grace we
shall not
213
be able to withstand even the most ordinary temptation. And why do I
speak of such insignificant and abject beings as we are? For even if one
were a Paul, or a Peter, or a James, or a John, yet if he should be deprived
of the divine help he would easily be put to shame, overthrown, and laid
prostrate. And on behalf of these I will read you the words of Christ Himself:
for He saith to Peter "Behold Satan hath asked to have you that he may
sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not."(1)
What is the meaning of "sift"? to turn and twist, and shake and stir and
shatter, and worry, which is what takes place in the case of things which
are winnowed: but I he says have restrained him, knowing that you are not
able to endure the trial, for the expression "that thy faith fail not"
is the utterance of one who signifies that if he had permitted it his faith
would have failed. Now if Peter who was such a fervent lover of Christ
and exposed his life for Him countless times and sprang into the foremost
rank in the Apostolic band, and was pronounced blessed by his Master, and
called Peter on this account because he kept a firm and inflexible hold
of the faith, would have been carried away and fallen from profession if
Christ had permitted the devil to try him as much as he desired, what other
man will be able to stand, apart from His help? Therefore also Paul saith
"But God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that
ye are able, but will with the temptation also make the way of escape that
ye may be able to bear it."(2) For not only does He say that He does not
suffer a trial to be inflicted beyond our strength, but even in that which
is proportioned to our strength He is present carrying us through it, and
bracing us up, if only we ourselves first of all contribute the means which
are at our disposal, such as zeal, hope in Him, thanksgiving, endurance,
patience. For not only in the dangers which are beyond our strength, but
in those which are proportioned to it, we need the divine assistance, if
we are to make a brave stand; for elsewhere also it is said "even as the
sufferings of Christ abound to us, even so our comfort also aboundeth through
Christ, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, by
the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God."(3) So then he
who comforted this man is the same who permitted the trial to be inflicted
upon him. And now observe after the cure what tenderness He displays. For
He did not leave him and depart, but having found him in the temple he
saith "behold! thou art made whole; sin no more lest some worse thing happen
unto thee."(4) For had He permitted the punishment because He hated him
He would not have released him, He would not have provided for his future
safety: but the expression "lest some worse thing happen unto thee" is
the utterance of one who would check coming evils beforehand. He put an
end to the disease, but did not put an end to the struggle: He expelled
the infirmity but did not expel the dread of it, so that the benefit which
had been wrought might remain unmoved. This is the part of a tender-hearted
physician, not only to put an end to present pains, but to provide for
future security, which also Christ did, bracing up his soul by the recollection
of past events. For seeing that when the things which distress us have
departed, the recollection of them oftentimes departs with them, He wishing
it to abide continually, saith "sin no more lest some worse thing happen
unto thee."
3. Moreover it is possible to discern His forethought
and consideration not only from this, but also from that which seems to
be a rebuke. For He did not make a public exposure of his sins, but yet
He told him that he suffered what he did suffer on account of his sins,
but what those sins were He did not disclose; nor did He say "thou hast
sinned" or "thou hast trangressed," but He indicated the fact by one simple
utterance "sin no more;" and having said so much as just to remind him
of it He put him more on the alert against future events, and at the same
time He made manifest to us all his patience and courage and wisdom, having
reduced him to the necessity of publicly lamenting his calamity, and having
displayed his own earnestness on the man's behalf, "for while I am coming,"
he says, "another steppeth down before me:"(5) yet he did not publicly
expose his sins. For just as we ourselves desire to draw a veil over our
sins even so does God much more than we: on this account He wrought the
cure in the presence of all, but He gives the exhortation or the advice
privately. For He never makes a public display of our sins, except at any
time He sees men insensible to them. For when He says "ye saw me hungry,
and fed me not: and thirsty and gave me no drink,"(6) He speaks thus at
the present time in order that we may not hear these words in time to come.
He threatens, He exposes us in this world, that He may not have to expose
us in the other: even as He threatened to overthrow
214
the city of the Ninevites(1) for the very reason that He might not overthrow
it. For if He wished to publish our sins He would not announce beforehand
that He would publish them: but as it is He does make this announcement
in order that being sobered by the fear of exposure, if not also by the
fear of punishment we may purge ourselves from them all. This also is what
takes place in the case of baptism: for He conducts the man to the pool
of water without disclosing his sins to any one; yet He publicly presents
the boon and makes it manifest to all, while the sins of the man are known
to no one save God Himself and him who receives the forgiveness of them.
This also was what took place in the case of this paralytic, He makes the
reproof without the presence of witnesses, or rather the utterance is not
merely a reproof but also a justification; He justifies Himself as it were
for evil-entreating him so long, telling him and proving to him that it
was not without cause and purpose that He had suffered him to be so long
afflicted, for He reminded him of his sins, and declared the cause of his
infirmity. "For having found him," we read, "in the temple, He said unto
him, sin no more lest some worse thing happen unto thee."
And now since we have derived so much profit from
the account of the former paralytic let us turn to the other who is presented
to us in St. Matthew's Gospel. For in the case of mines where any one happens
to find a piece of gold he makes a further excavation again in the same
place: and I know that many of those who read without care imagine that
one and the same paralytic is presented by the four evangelists: but it
is not so. Therefore you must be on the alert, and pay careful attention
to the matter. For the question is not concerned with ordinary matters,
and this discourse when it has received its proper solution will be serviceable
against both Greeks and Jews and many of the heretics. For thus all find
fault with the evangelists as being at strife and variance: yet this is
not the fact, Heaven forbid! but although the, outward appearance is different,
the grace of the Spirit which works upon the soul of each is one, and where
the grace of the Spirit is, there is love, joy, and peace; and there war
and disputation, strife and contention are not. How then shall we make
it clear that this paralytic is not the same as the other, but a different
man? By many tokens, both of place and time, and season, and day, and from
the manner of the cure, and the coming of the physician and the loneliness
of the man who was healed. And what of this? some one will say: for have
not many of the evangelists given diverse accounts of other signs? Yes,
but it is one thing to make statements which are diverse, and another,
statements which are contradictory; for the former causes no discord or
strife: but that which is now presented to us is a strong case of contradiction
unless it be proved that the paralytic at the pool was a different man
from him who is described by the other three evangelists. Now that you
may understand what is the difference between statements which are diverse
and contradictory, one of the evangelists has stated that Christ carried
the cross,(2) another that Simon the Cyrenian carried it:(3) but this causes
no contradiction or strife. "And how," you say, "is there no contradiction
between the statements that he carried and did not carry?" Because both
took place. When they went out of the Praetorium Christ was carrying it:
but as they proceeded Simon took it from Him and bore it. Again in the
case of the robbers, one says that the two blasphemed:(4) another that
one of them checked him who was reviling the Lord.(5) Yet in this again
there is no contradiction: because here also both things took place, and
at the beginning both the men behaved ill: but afterwards when signs occurred,
when the earth shook and the rocks were rent, and the sun was darkened,
one of them was converted, and became more chastened, and recognized the
crucified one and acknowledged his kingdom. For to prevent your supposing
that this took place by some constraining force of one impelling him from
within, and to remove your perplexity, he exhibits the man to you on the
cross while he is still retaining his former wickedness in order that you
may perceive that his conversion was effected from within and out of his
own heart assisted by the grace of God and so he became a better man.
4. And it is possible to collect many other instances
of this kind from the Gospels, which seem to have a suspicion of contradiction,
where there is no real contradiction, the truth being that some incidents
have been related by this writer, others by that; or if not occurring at
the same hour one author has related the earlier event another the later;
but in the present case there is nothing of this kind, but the multitude
of the evidences which I have mentioned proves to those who pay any attention
whatever to the matter, that the paralytic was not the same man in both
instances. And this would be no slight proof to demonstrate that the evangelists
were in harmony with each
215
other and not at variance. For if it were the same man the discord is
great between the two accounts: but if it be a different one all material
for dispute has been destroyed.
Well then let me now state the actual reasons why
I affirm that this man is not the same as that. What are they? The one
is cured in Jerusalem, the other in Capernaum; the one by the pool of water,
the other in some house; there is the evidence from place: the former during
the festival: there is the evidence from the special season: the former
had been thirty and eight years suffering from infirmity: concerning the
other the evangelist relates nothing of that kind: there is the evidence
from time: the former was cured on the Sabbath: there is the evidence from
the day: for had this man also been cured on the Sabbath Matthew would
not have passed by the fact in silence nor would the Jews who were present
have held their peace: for they who found fault for some other reason even
when a man was not cured on the Sabbath would have been yet more violent
in their accusation against Christ if they had got an additional handle
from the argument of the special day. Moreover this man was brought to
Christ: to the other Christ Himself came, and there was no man to assist
him. "Lord," said he," I have no man: "whereas this man had many who came
to his aid, who also let him down through the roof. And He healed the body
of the other man before his soul: for after he had cured the paralysis
He then said "Behold thou art made whole, sin no more:" but not so in this
case, but after He had healed his soul, for He said to him "Son be of good
cheer thy sins be forgiven thee," He then cured his paralysis. That this
man then is not the same as the other has been clearly demonstrated by
these proofs, but it now remains for us to turn to the beginning of the
narrative and see how Christ cured the one and the other, and why differently
in each case: why the one on the Sabbath and the other not on the Sabbath,
why He came Himself to the one but waited for the other to be brought to
Him, why He healed the body of the one and the soul of the other first.
For He does not these things without consideration and purpose seeing that
He is wise and prudent. Let us then give our attention and observe Him
as He performs the cure. For if in the case of physicians when they use
the knife or cautery or operate in any other way upon a maimed and crippled
patient, and cut off a limb, many persons crowd round the invalid and the
physician who is doing these things, much more ought we to act thus in
this case, in proportion as the physician is greater and the malady more
severe, being one which cannot be corrected by human art, but only by divine
grace. And in the former case we have to see the skin being cut, and matter
discharging, and gore set in motion, and to endure much discomfort produced
by the spectacle, and great pain and sorrow not merely from the sight of
the wounds, but also from the suffering undergone by those who are subjected
to this burning or cutting: for no one is so stony-hearted as to stand
by those who are suffering these things, and hear them shrieking, without
being himself overcome and agitated, and experiencing much depression of
spirit; but yet we undergo all this owing to our desire to witness the
operation. But in this case nothing of that kind has to be seen, no application
of fire, no plunging in of an instrument, no flowing of blood, no pain
or shrieking of the patient; and the reason of this is, the wisdom of the
healer, which needs none of these external aids, but is absolutely self-sufficient.
For it is enough that He merely utters a command and all distress ceases.
And the wonder is not only that He effects the cure with so much ease,
but also without pain, causing no trouble to those who are being healed.
Seeing then that the marvel is greater and the cure
more important, and the pleasure afforded to the spectators unalloyed by
any kind of sorrow, let us now carefully contemplate Christ in the act
of healing. "And He entered into a boat and crossed over and came into
His own city: and behold they brought to him a man sick of the palsy lying
on a bed: and Jesus seeing their faith said unto the sick. of the palsy
"Son! be of good cheer: thy sins are forgiven."(1) Now they were inferior
to the centurion in respect of their faith, but superior to the impotent
man by the pool. For the former neither invited the physician nor brought
the sick man to the physician; but approached Him as God and said "Speak
the word only and my servant shall be healed."(2) Now these men did not
invite the physician to the house, and so far they are on an equality with
the centurion: but they brought the sick man to the physician and so far
they are inferior, because they did not say "speak the word only." Yet
they are far better than the man lying by the pool. For he said "Lord I
have no man when the water is troubled to put me into the pool:" but these
men knew that Christ had no need either of water, or pool, or anything
else of that kind: nevertheless Christ not only released the servant of
the centurion but the other two men also from their maladies, and did not
say: "because thou hast proffered
216
a smaller degree of faith the cure which thou receivest shall be in
proportion;" but He dismissed the man who displayed the greater faith with
eulogy and honour, saying "I have not found so great faith, no, not in
Israel."(1) On the man who exhibited less faith than this one he bestowed
no praise yet He did not deprive him of a cure, no! not even him who displayed
no faith at all. But just as physicians when curing the same disorder receive
from some person a hundred gold pieces, from others half, from others less
and from some nothing at all: even so Christ received from the centurion
a large and unspeakable degree of faith, but from this man less and from
the other not even an ordinary amount, and yet He healed them all. For
what reason then did He deem the man who made no deposit of faith worthy
of the benefit? Because his failure to exhibit faith was not owing to indolence,
or to insensibility of soul, but to ignorance of Christ and having never
heard any miracle in which He was concerned either small or great. On this
account therefore the man obtained indulgence: which in fact the evangelist
obscurely intimates when he says, "for he wist not who it was,"(2) but
he only recognized Him by sight when he lighted upon Him the second time.
5. There are indeed some who say that this man was
healed merely because they who brought him believed; but this is not the
fact. For "when He saw their faith" refers not merely to those who brought
the man but also to the man who was brought. Why so? "Is not one man healed,"
you say, "because another has believed?" For my part I do not think so
unless owing to immaturity of age or excessive infirmity he is in some
way incapable of believing. How then was it you say that in the case of
the woman of Canaan the mother believed but the daughter was cured? and
how was it that the servant of the centurion who believed rose from the
bed of sickness and was preserved. Because the sick persons themselves
were not able to believe. Hear then what the woman of Canaan says: "My
daughter is grievously vexed with a devil(3) and sometimes she falleth
into the water and sometimes into the fire:"(4) now how could she believe
whose mind was darkened and possessed by a devil, and was never able to
control herself, not in her sound senses? As then in the case of the woman
of Canaan so also in the case of the centurion; his servant lay ill in
the house, not knowing Christ, himself, nor who He was. How then was he
to believe in one who was unknown to him, and of whom he had never yet
obtained any experience? But in the case before us we cannot say this:
for the paralytic believed. Whence is this manifest? From the very manner
of his approach to Christ. For do not attend simply to the statement that
they let the man down through the roof: but consider how great a matter
it is for a sick man to have the fortitude to undergo this. For you are
surely aware that invalids are so faint-hearted and difficult to please
as often to decline the treatment administered to them on their sick bed,
and to prefer bearing the pain which arises from their maladies to undergoing
the annoyance caused by the remedies. But this man had the fortitude to
go outside the house, and to be carried into the midst of the market place,
and to exhibit himself in the presence of a crowd. And it is the habit
of sick folk to die under their disorder rather than disclose their personal
calamities. This sick man however did not act thus, but when he saw that
the place of assembly was filled, the approaches blocked, the haven of
refuge obstructed, he submitted to be let down through the roof. So ready
in contrivance is desire, so rich in resource is love. "For he also that
seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."(5) The man
did not say to his friends "What is the meaning of this? why make this
ado? why push on? Let us wait until the house is cleared and the assembly
is dissolved: the crowds will withdraw, we shall then be able to approach
him privately and confer about these matters. Why should you expose my
misfortunes in the midst of all the spectators, and let me down from the
roof-top, and behave in an unseemly manner?" That man said none of these
things either to himself or to his bearers, but regarded it as an honour
to have so many persons made witnesses of his cure. And not from this circumstance
only was it possible to discern his faith but also from the actual words
of Christ. For after he had been let down and presented Christ said to
him, "Son! be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee." And when he heard
these words he was not indignant, he did not complain, he did not say to
the physician "What mean you by this? I came to be healed of one thing
and you heal another. This is an excuse and a pretence and a screen of
incompetence. Do you forgive sins which are invisible?" He neither spoke
nor thought any of these things, but waited, allowing the physician to
adopt the method of healing which He desired. For this reason also Christ
did not go to him, but
217
waited for him to come, that He might exhibit his faith to all. For
could He not have made the entrance easy? But He did none of these things;
in order that He might exhibit the man's zeal and fervent faith to all.
For as He went to the man who had been suffering thirty and eight years
because he had no one to aid him, so did He wait for this man to come to
him because he had many friends that He might make his faith manifest by
the man being brought to Him, and inform us of the other man's loneliness
by going to him, and disclose the earnestness of the one and the patience
of the other to all and especially to those who were present. For some
envious and misanthropical Jews were accustomed to grudge the benefits
done to their neighbours and to find fault with His miracles, sometimes
on account of the special season, saying that He healed on the sabbath
day; sometimes on account of the life of those to whom the benefit was
done, saying "if this man were a prophet He would have known who the woman
was who touched Him:"(1) not knowing that it is the special mark of a physician
to associate with the infirm and to be constantly seen by the side of the
sick, not to avoid them, or hurry from their presence--which in fact was
what He expressly said to those murmurers; "They that are whole have no
need of a physician but they that are sick."(2) Therefore in order to prevent
their making the same accusations again He proves first of all that they
who come to Him are deserving of a cure on account of the faith which they
exhibit. For this reason He exhibited the loneliness of one man, and the
fervent faith and zeal of the other: for this reason He healed the one
on the Sabbath, the other not on the Sabbath: in order that when you see
them accusing and rebuking Christ on another day you may understand that
they accused him on the former occasion also not because of their respect
for the law, but because they could not contain their own malice. But why
did He not first address Himself to the cure of the paralytic, but said,
"Son ! be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee?" He did this very
wisely. For it is a habit with physicians to destroy the originating cause
of the malady before they remove the malady itself. Often for example when
the eyes are distressed by some evil humour and corrupt discharge, the
physician, abandoning any treatment of the disordered vision, turns his
attention to the head, where the root and origin of the infirmity is: even
so did Christ act: He represses first of all the source of the evil. For
the source and root and mother of all evil is the nature of sin. This it
is which enervates our bodies: this it is which brings on disease: therefore
also on this occasion He said, "Son ! be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven
thee." And on the other He said, "Behold ! thou art made whole, sin no
more lest some worse thing happen unto thee," intimating to both that these
maladies were the offspring of sin. And in the beginning and outset of
the word disease as the consequence of sin attacked the body of Cain. For
after the murder of his brother, after that act of wickedness, his body
was subject to palsy.(3) For trembling is the same thing as palsy. For
when the strength which regulates a living creature becomes weakened, being
no longer able to support all the limbs, it deprives them of their natural
power of direction, and then having become unstrung they tremble and turn
giddy.
6. Paul also demonstrated this: for when he was reproaching
the Corinthians with a certain sin he said, "For this cause many are weak
and sickly among you." Therefore also Christ first removes the cause of
the evil, and having said "Son ! be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven
thee," He uplifts the spirit and rouses the downcast soul: for the speech
became an efficient cause and having entered into the conscience it laid
hold of the soul itself and cast out of it all distress. For nothing creates
pleasure and affords confidence so much as freedom from self-reproach.
For read was the case with Lazarus, that he received his evil things in
full, and thereupon was comforted: and again in another place we read,
"Comfort ye my people say ye to the heart of Jerusalem, that she hath received
of the Lord's hand double for her sins."(4) And again the prophet
says "O Lord give us peace, for thou hast requited all things to us,"(5)
indicating that penalties and punishments work forgiveness of sins; and
this we might prove
218
from many passages. It seems to me then that the reason why He said nothing to that man about remission of sins, but only secured him against the future, was because the penalty for his sins had been already worked out by the long duration of his sickness: or if this was not the reason, it was because he had not yet attained any high degree of belief concerning Christ that the Lord first addressed Himself to the lesser need, and one which was manifest and obvious, the health of the body; but in the case of the other man He did not act thus, but inasmuch as this man had more faith, and a loftier soul, He spoke to him first of all concerning the more dangerous disease: with the additional object of exhibiting his equality of rank with the Father. For just as in the former case He healed on the Sabbath day because He wished to lead men away from the Jewish mode of observing it, and to take occasion from their reproaches to prove Himself equal with the Father: even so in this instance also, knowing beforehand what they were going to say, He uttered these words that He might use them as a starting-point and a pretext for proving His equality of rank with the Father. For it is one thing when no one brings an accusation or charge to enter spontaneously upon a discourse about these things, and quite another when other persons give occasion for it, to set about the same work in the order and shape of a defence. For the nature of the former demonstration was a stumbling block to the hearers: but the other was less offensive, and more acceptable, and everywhere we see Him doing this, and manifesting His equality not so much by words as by deeds. This at any rate is what the Evangelist implied when he said that the Jews persecuted Jesus not only because He broke the Sabbath but also because He said that God was His Father, making Himself equal with God,(1) which is a far greater thing, for He effected this by the demonstration of His deeds. How then do the envious and wicked act, and those who seek to find a handle in every direction? "Why does this man blaspheme?" they say for "no man can forgive sins save God alone."(2) As they persecuted Him there because He broke the Sabbath, and took occasion from their reproaches to declare His equality with the Father in the form of a defence, saying "my Father worketh hitherto and I work,"(3) so here also starting from the accusations which they make He proves from these His exact likeness to the Father. For what was it they said? "No man can forgive sins save God alone." Inasmuch then as they themselves laid down this definition, they themselves introduced the rule, they themselves declared the law, He proceeds to entangle them by means of their own words. "You have confessed," He says, "that forgiveness of sins is an attribute of God alone: my equality therefore is unquestionable." And it is not these men only who declare this but also the prophet thus saying: "who is God as thou?" and then, indicating His special attribute he adds "taking away iniquity and passing over unrighteousness."(4) If then any one else appears thus doing the same thing He also is God, God even as that one is God. But let us observe how Christ argues with them, how meekly and gently, and with all tenderness. "And behold some of the scribes said within themselves: this man blasphemeth." They did not utter the word, they did not proclaim it through the tongue, but reasoned in the secret recesses of their heart. How then did Christ act? He made public their secret thoughts before the demonstration which was concerned with the cure of the paralytic's body, wishing to prove to them the power of His Godhead. For that it is an attribute of God alone, a sign of His deity to shew the secrets of His mind, the Scripture saith "Thou alone knowest men's hearts."(5) Seest thou that this word "alone," is not used with a view of contrasting the Son with the Father. For if the Father alone knows the heart, how does the Son know the secrets of the mind? "For He Himself" it is said, "knew what was in man ";(6) and Paul when proving that the knowledge of secret things is a special attribute of God says, "and He that searchest the heart," 7 shewing that this expression is equivalent to the appellation "God." For just as when I say "He who causeth rain said," I signify none other than God by mentioning the deed, since it is one which belongs to Him alone: and when I say "He who maketh the sun to rise," without adding the word God, I yet signify Him by mentioning the deed: even so when Paul said "He who searcheth the hearts," he proved that to search the heart is an attribute of God alone. For if this expression had not been of equal force with the name "God" for pointing out Him who was signified, he would not have used it absolutely and by itself. For if the power were shared by Him in common with some created being, we should not have known who was signified, the community of power causing confusion in the mind of the hearers. Inasmuch then as this appears to be a special attribute of the Father, and yet is manifested of the Son whose equal-
219
ity becomes thence unquestionable, therefore we read "why think ye evil
in your hearts? for whether is easier: to say: Thy sins are forgiven thee
or to say arise and walk?"
7. See moreover He makes a second proof of His power
of forgiving sins. For to forgive sins is a very much greater act than
to heal the body, greater in proportion as the soul is greater than the
body. For as paralysis is a disease of the body, even so sin is a disease
of the soul: but although this is the greater it is not palpable: whereas
the other although it be less is manifest. Since then He is about to use
the less for a demonstration of the greater proving that He acted thus
on account of their weakness, and by way of condescension to their feeble
condition He says "whether is easier? to say thy sins are forgiven thee
or to say arise and walk?" For what reason then should He address Himself
to the lesser act on their account? Because that which is manifest presents
the proof in a more distinct form. Therefore He did not enable the man
to rise until He had said to them "But that ye may know that the Son of
man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (then saith He to the sick of
the palsy) arise and walk:" as if He had said: forgiveness of sins is indeed
a greater sign: but for your sakes I add the less also since this seems
to you to be a proof of the other. For as in another case when He praised
the centurion for saying "speak the word only and my servant shall be healed:
for I also say to this man go and he goeth and to the other come and he
cometh" He confirmed promising that which belongs only to the Father,"
He having upbraided and accused them and proved by His deeds that He did
not blaspheme supplied us with indisputable evidence that He could do the
same things as the Father who begat Him Observe at least the manner in
which He pleases to establish the fact that what belongs to the Father
only, belongs also to Himself: for He did not simply enable the parlytic
to get up, but also said "but that ye may know that the Son of man hath
power on earth to forgive sins:" thus it was his endeavour and earnest
desire to prove above all things that He had the same authority as the
Father.
8. Let us then carefully hold fast alI these things, both those which were
spoken yesterday and the day before that, and let us beseech God that they
may abide immoveably in our heart, and let us contribute zeal on our side,
and constantly meet in this place. For in this way we shall preserve the
truths which have been formerly spoken, and we shall add others to our
store; and if any of them slip from our memory through the lapse of time
we shall easily be able to recover them by the aid of continual teaching.
And not only will the doctrines abide sound and uncorrupt but our course
of life will have the benefit of much diligent care and we shall be able
to pass through this present state of existence with pleasure and cheerfulness.
For whatever kind of suffering is oppressing our soul when we come here
will easily be got rid of: seeing that now also Christ is present, and
he who approaches Him with faith will readily receive healing from Him.
Suppose some one is struggling with perpetual poverty, and at a loss for
necessary food, and often goes to bed hungry, if he has come in here, and
heard Paul saying that he passed his time in hunger and thirst and nakedness,
and that he experienced this not on one or two or three days, but constantly
(this at least is what he indicates when he says "up to the present hour
we both dear to Him: but He permitted it out of His Paul who was continually
suffering from disorders, and never had any respite from prolonged infirmity,
even as Paul also said "Use a little wine for thy stomach's sake and thine
often infirmities,"(2) where he does not speak merely of infirmities as
such. Or another having been subjected to false accusation has acquired
a bad reputation with the public, and this is continually vexing and gnawing
his soul: he enters this place and hears "Blessed are ye when men shall
reproach you and say all manner of evil against you falsely: rejoice ye
and be exceeding glad for great is your reward in Heaven:"(3) then he will
lay aside all despondency and receive every kind of pleasure: for it is
written "leap for joy, and
220
be exceeding glad when men cast out your name as evil."(1) In this manner
then God comforts those that are evil spoken of, and them that speak evil
He puts in fear after another manner saying "every evil word which men
shall speak they shall give an account thereof whether it be good or eviL"(2)
Another perhaps has lost a little daughter or a
son, or one of his kinsfolk, and he also having come here listens to Paul
groaning over this present fife and longing to see that which is to come,
and oppressed by his sojourn in this world, and he will go away with a
sufficient remedy for his grief when he has heard him say "Now concerning
them that are asleep I would not have you ignorant brethren that ye sorrow
not even as others who have no hope."(3) He did not say concerning the
dying," but "concerning them that are asleep" proving that death is a sleep.
As then if we see any one sleeping we are not disturbed or distressed,
expecting that he will certainly get up: even so when we see any one dead,
let us not be disturbed or dejected for this also is a sleep, a longer
one indeed, but still a sleep. By giving it the name of slumber He comforted
the mourners and overthrew the accusation of the unbelievers. If you mourn
immoderately over him who has departed you will be like that unbeliever
who has no hope of a resurrection. He indeed does well to mourn, inasmuch
as he cannot exercise any spiritual wisdom concerning things to come: but
thou who hast received such strong proofs concerning the future life, why
dost thou sink into the same weakness with him? Therefore it is written
"now concerning them that are asleep we would not have you ignorant that
ye sorrow not even as others who have no hope."
And not only from the New Testament but from the
Old also it is possible to receive abundant consolation. For when you hear
of Job after the loss of his property, after the destruction of his herds,
after the loss not of one, or two, or three, but of a whole troop of sons
in the very flower of their age, after the great excellence of soul which
he displayed, even if thou art the weakest of men, thou wilt easily be
able to repent and regain thy courage. For thou, O man, hast constantly
attended thy sick son, and hast seen him laid upon the bed, and hast heard
him uttering his last words, and stood beside him whilst he was drawing
his last breath and hast dosed his eyes, and shut his mouth: but he was
not did not see them breathing their last gasp, but the house became the
common grave of them all, and on the same table brains and blood were poured
forth, and pieces of wood and tiles, and dust, and fragments of flesh,
and all these things were mingled together in like manner. Nevertheless
after such great calamities of this kind he was not petulant, but what
does he say--" The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; as it seemed good
unto the Lord even so has it cometo pass, blessed be the name of the Lord
for ever."(4) Let this speech be our utterance also over each event which
befalls us; whether it be loss of property, or infirmity of body, or insult,
or false accusation or any other form of evil incident to mankind, let
us say these words "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; as it seemed
good to the Lord so has it come to pass; blessed be the name of the Lord
for ever." If we practise this spiritual wisdom, we shall never experience
any evil, even if we undergo countess sufferings, but the gain will be
greater than the loss, the good will exceed the evil: by these words thou
wilt cause God to be merciful unto thee, and wilt defend thyself against
the tyranny of Satan. For as soon as thy tongue has uttered these words
forthwith the Devil hastens from thee: and when he has hastened away, the
cloud of dejection also is dispelled and the thoughts which afflict us
take to flight, hurrying off in company with him, and in addition to all
this thou wilt win all manner of blessings both here and in Heaven. And
you have a convincing example in the case of Job, and of the Apostle, who
having for God's sake despised the troubles of this world, obtained the
everlasting blessings. Let us then be trustful and in all things which
befall us let us rejoice and give thanks to the merciful God, that we may
pass through this present life with serenity, and obtain the blessings
to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ to whom
be glory, honour and might always, now and ever, world without end. Amen.
223
TO THOSE WHO HAD NOT ATTENDED THE
ASSEMBLY.
TO THOSE WHO HAD NOT ATTENDED THE ASSEMBLY; ON THE APOSTOLIC SAYING, "IF THY ENEMY HUNGER FEED HIM," AND CONCERNING RESENTMENT OF INJURIES.
1. I DID no good as it seems by the prolonged discourse
which I lately addressed to destitute of her children. Wherefore also I
am again compelled to seem vexatious and burdensome, reproving those who
are present, and finding fault with those who have been left behind: with
them because they have not put away thor sloth,, and with you because you
have not given a helping hand to the salvation of your brethren. I am compelled
to seem burdensome and vexatious, not on behalf of myself, or my own possessions,
but on your behalf and for your salvation, which is more precious to me
than anything else. Let him who pleases take it in bad part, and call me
insolent and impudent, yet will I not cease continually annoying him for
the same purpose; for nothing is better for me than this kind of impudence.
For it may be, it may be, that this is at least if nothing else, will put
you to shame, and that to avoid being perpetually importuned concerning
the same things, ye will take part in the tender care of your brethren.
For what profit is there to me in praise when I do not see you making advances
in virtue? and what harm is there from the silence of the hearers when
I behold your piety increasing? For the praise of the speaker does not
consist in applause, but in the zeal of the hearers for godliness: not
in noise made just at the time of hearing, but in lasting earnestness.
As soon as applause has issued from the lips it is dispersed in air and
perishes; but the moral improvement of the hearers brings an imperishable
and immortal reward both to him who speaks and to them who obey. The praise
of your cheers makes the speaker illustrious here, but the piety of your
soul affords the teacher much confidence before the judgment-seat of Christ.
Wherefore if any one loves the speaker, let him not desire the applause
but the profit of the hearers. To one which brings extreme punishment,
and an turn out a bad man, since he restored it intact: nevertheless he
did turn out a bad man as regarded his management of the deposit. For he
did not double that which was entrusted to him; and so was punished. Whence
it is manifest that even if we are earnest and well trained, and have much
zeal about hearing the holy scriptures this does not suffice for our salvation.
For the deposit must be doubled, and it becomes doubled when together with
our own salvation we undertake to make some provision for the good of others.
For the man in the parable said "Lo! there thou hast that is thine:" but
this did not serve him for a defence: for it was said to him "thou oughtest
to have put the money to the exchangers"(2)
And observe I pray how easy the commands of the
Master are: for men indeed make those who lend out capital sums at interest
answera-
224
ble for recalling them; "you have made the deposit," one says, "you
must call it in: I have no concern with the man who has received it." But
God does not act thus; He only commands us to make the deposit, and does
not render us liable for the recall. For the speaker has the power of advising,
not of persuading. Therefore he says: "I make thee answerable for depositing
only, and not for the recall." What can be easier than this? And yet the
servant called the master hard, who was thus gentle and merciful. For such
is the wont of the ungrateful and indolent; they always try to shift the
blame of their offences from themselves to their master. And therefore
the man was thrust out with torture and bonds into the outer darkness And
lest we should suffer this penalty let us deposit our teaching with the
brethren, whether they be persuaded by it, or not. For if they be persuaded
they will profit both themselves and us: and if they are not, they involve
themselves indeed in inevitable punishment, but will not be able to do
us the slightest injury. For we have done our part, by giving them advice:
but if they do not listen to it no harm will result to us from that. For
blame would attach to us not for failing to persuade, but for failing to
advise: and after prolonged and continual exhortation and counsel they
and not we, have to reckon henceforth with God.
I have been anxious at any rate to know clearly,
whether you continue to exhort your brethren, and if they remain all the
time in the same condition of indolence: otherwise I would never have given
you any trouble: as it is, I have fears that they may remain uncorrected
in consequence of your neglect and indifference. For it is impossible that
a man who continually has the benefit of exhortation and instruction should
not become better and more diligent. The proverb which I am about to cite
is certainly a common one, nevertheless it confirms this very truth. For
"a perpetual dropping of water" it says, "wears a rock," yet what is softer
than water? and what is harder than a rock? Nevertheless perpetual action
conquers nature: and if it conquers nature much more will it be able to
prevail over the human will. Christianity is no child's play, my beloved:
no matter of secondary importance. I am continually saying these things,
and yet I effect nothing.
2. How am I distressed, think you, when I call to
mind that on the festival days the multitudes assembled resemble the broad
expanse of the sea, but now not even the smallest part of that multitude
is gathered together here? Where are they now who oppress us with their
presence on the feast days? I look for them, and am grieved on their account
when I mark what a multitude are perishing of those who are in the way
of salvation,(1) how large a loss of brethren I sustain, how few are reached
by the things which concern salvation, and how the greater part of the
body of the Church is Eke a dead and motionless carcase. "And what concern
is that to us?" you say. The greatest possible concern if you pay no attention
to your brethren, if you do not exhort and advise, if you put no constraint
on them, and do not forcibly drag them hither, and lead them away out of
their deep indolence. For that one ought not to be useful to himself alone,
but also to many others, Christ declared mayest enjoy the light by thyself,
but that thou mayest bring back yonder man who has gone astray. For what
profit is a lamp if it does not give light to him who sits in darkness?
and what profit is a Christian when he benefits no one, neither leads any
one back to virtue? Again salt is not an astringent to itself but braces
up those parts of the body which have decayed, and prevents them from falling
to pieces and perishing. Even so do thou, since God has appointed thee
to be spiritual salt, bind and brace up the decayed members, that is the
indolent and sordid brethren, and having rescued them from their indolence
as from some form of corruption, unite them to the rest of the body of
the Church. And this is the reason why He called you leaven: for leaven
also does not leaven itself, but, little though it is, it affects the whole
lump however big it may be. So also do ye: although ye are few in number,
yet be ye many and powerful in faith, and in zeal towards God. As then
the leaven is not weak on account of its littleness, but prevails owing
to its inherent heat, and the force of its natural quality so ye also will
be able to bring back a far larger number than yourselves, if you will,
to the same degree of zeal as your own. Now if they make the summer season
their excuse: for I hear of their saying things of this kind, "the present
stifling heat is excessive, the scorching sun is intolerable, we cannot
bear being trampled and crushed in the crowd, and to be steaming all over
with perspiration and oppressed by the heat and confined space:" I am ashamed
of them, believe me: for such excuses are
225
womanish: indeed even in their case who have softer bodies, and a weaker
nature, such pretexts do not suffice for justification. Nevertheless, even
if it seems a disgrace to make a reply to a defence of this kind, yet is
it necessary. For if they put forward such excuses as these and do not
blush, much more does it behove us not to be ashamed of replying to these
things. What then am I to say to those who advance these pretexts? I would
remind them of the three children in the furnace and the flame, who when
they saw the fire encircling them on all sides, enveloping their mouth
and their eyes and even their breath, did not cease singing that sacred
and mystical hymn to God, in company with the universe, but standing in
cheerfulness than they who abide in some flowery field:(1) and together
with these three children I should think it proper to remind them also
of the lions which were in Babylon, and of Daniel and the den:(2) and not
of this one only but also of another den, and the prophet Jeremiah, and
the mire in which he was smothered up to the neck.(3) And emerging from
these dens, I would conduct these per sons who put forward heat as an excuse
into the prison and exhibit Paul to them there, and Silas bound fast in
the stocks, covered with bruises and wounds lacerated all over their body
with a mass of stripes, yet singing praises to God at midnight and celebrating
their holy fire, and the den, and amongst wild beasts, and mire, and in
a prison and the stocks and amidst stripes and gaolers, and intolerable
sufferings, never complained of any of these things but were continually
uttering prayers and sacred songs with much energy and fervent zeal, whilst
we who have not undergone any of their innumerable sufferings small or
great, neglect our own salvation on account of a scorching sun and a tittle
short lived heat and toil, and forsaking the assembly wander away, depraving
ourselves by going to meetings which are thoroughly unwholesome? When the
dew of the divine oracles is so abundant dost thou make heat thy excuse?
"The water which I will give him," saith Christ "shall be in him a well
of water springing up into everlasting life;"(4) and again; "He that believeth
on me as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of
living water"(5) Tell me; when thou hast spiritual wets and rivers art
thou afraid of material heat? Now in the market place where there is so
much turmoil and crowding, and scorching wind, how is it that you do not
make suffocation and heat an excuse for absenting yourself? For it is impossible
for you to say that there you can enjoy a cooler temperature, and that
all the heat is concentrated here with us:--the truth is exactly the reverse;
here indeed owing to the pavement floor, and to the construction of the
building in other respects (for it is carried up to a vast height), the
air is lighter and cooler: whereas there the sun is strong in every direction,
and there is much crowding, and vapour and dust, and other things which
add to discomfort far more than these. Whence it is plain that these senseless
excuses are the offspring of indolence and of a supine disposition, destitute
of the fire of the Holy Spirit.
3. Now these remarks of mine are not so much directed
to them, as to you who do not bring them forward, do not rouse them from
their indolence, and draw them to this table of salvation. Household slaves
indeed when they have to discharge some service in common, summon their
fellow slaves, but you when of the advantage by your neglect. "But what
if they do not desire it?" you say. Make them desire it by your continual
importunity: for if they see you insisting upon it they certainly will
desire it. Nay these things are a mere excuse and pretence. How many fathers
at any rate are there here who have not their sons standing with them?
Was it so difficult for thee to bring hither some of thy children? Whence
it is dear that the absence of all the others who remain outside is due
not only to their own indolence, but also to your neglect. But now at leash
if never before, rouse yourselves up, and let each person enter the Church
accompanied by a member of his family: let them incite and urge one another
to the assembly here, the father his son, the son his father, the husbands
their wives and the wives their husbands the master his slave, brother
his brother, friend his friend: or rather let us not summon friends only
but also enemies to this common treasury of good things. If thy enemy sees
thy care for his welfare, he will undoubtedly relinquish his hatred.
Say to him: "art thou not ashamed and dost thou
not blush before the Jews who keep their sabbath with such great strictness,
and from the evening of it abstain from all work? And if they see the sun
verging towards setting on the day of the Preparation they break off business,
and cut short their traffic: and if
226
any one who has been making a purchase from them, before the evening,
comes in the evening bringing the price, they do not suffer themselves
to take it, or to accept the money." And why do I speak of the price of
market wares and transaction of business? Even if it were possible to receive
a treasure they would rather lose the gain than trample on their law. Are
the Jews then so strict, and this when they keep the law out of due season,
and cling to an observance of it which does not profit them, but rather
does them harm: and wilt thou, who art superior to the shadow, to whom
it has been vouchsafed to see the Sun of Righteousness, who art ranked
as a citizen of the Heavenly commonwealth, wilt thou not display the same
zeal as those who unseasonably cleave to what is wrong, thou who hast been
entrusted with the truth, but although thou art summoned here for only
a short part of the day, canst thou not endure to spend even this upon
the hearing of the divine oracles? and What kind of indulgence, pray, could
you obtain? and what answer will you have to make which is reasonable and
just? It is utterly impossible that one who is so indifferent and indolent
should ever obtain indulgence, even if he should allege the necessities
of wordly affairs ten thousand times over as an excuse. Do you not know
that if you come and worship God and take part in the work which goes on
here. the business you have on hand is made much easier for you? Have you
worldly anxieties? Come here on that account that by the time you spend
here you may win for yourself the favour of God, and so depart with a sense
of security; that you may have Him for your ally, that you may become invincible
to the demons because you are assisted by the heavenly hand. If you have
the benefit of prayers uttered by the fathers, if you take part in common
prayer, if you listen to the divine oracles, if you win for yourself the
aid of God, if, armed with these weapons, you then go forth, not even the
devil himself will be able henceforth to look you in the face, much less
wicked men who are eager to insult and malign you. But if you go from your
house to the market place, and are found destitute of these weapons, you
will be easily mastered by all who insult you. This is the reason why both
in public and private affairs, many things occur contrary to our expectation,
because we have not been diligent about spiritual things in the first place,
and secondarily about the secular, but have inverted the order. For this
reason also the proper sequence and right arrangement of things has been
upset, and all our affairs are full of much confusion. Can you imagine
what distress and grief I suffer when I observe, that if a public holy
day and festival is at hand there is a concourse of all the inhabitants
of the city, although there is no one to summon them; but when the holy
day and festival are past, even if we should crack our voice by continuing
to call over in my mind I have groaned heavily, and said to myself: What
is the use of exhortation or advice, when you do everything merely by the
force of habit, and do not become a whir more zealous in consequence of
my teaching? For whereas in the festivals you need no exhortation from
me, but, when they are past you profit nothing by my teaching, do you not
show that my discourse, so far as you are concerned, is superfluous?
4. Perhaps many of those who hear these things are
grieved. But such is not the sentiment of the indolent: else they would
put away their carelessness, like ourselves, who are daily anxious about
your affairs. And what gain do you make by your secular transactions in
proportion to the damage you sustain? It is impossible to depart from any
other assembly, or gathering, in the possession of so much gain as you
receive from the time spent here, whether it be the law court, or council-chamber,
or even the palace itself. For we do not commit the administration of nations
or cities nor the command of armies to those who enter here, but another
kind of government more dignified than that of the empire itself; or rather
we do not ourselves commit it, but the grace of the spirit.
What then is the government, more dignified than
that of the empire, which they who enter here receive? They are trained
to master untoward passions, to rule wicked lusts, to command anger, to
regulate ill-will, to subdue vainglory. The emperor, seated on the imperial
throne, and wearing his diadem, is not so dignified as the man who has
elevated his own inward right reason to the throne of government over base
passions, and by his dominion over them has bound as it were a glorious
diadem upon his brow. For what profit is there, pray, in purple, and raiment
wrought with gold, and a jewelled crown, when the soul is in captivity
to the passions? What gain is there in outward freedom when the ruling
element within us is reduced to a state of disgraceful and pitiable servitude.
For just as when a fever penetrates deep, and inflames all the inward parts,
there is no benefit to be got from the outward surface of the body, although
it is not affected in the same way: even so when our soul is violently
carried away by the passion within, no outward government, not
227
even the imperial throne, is of any profit, since reason is deposed
from the throne of empire by the violent usurpation of the passions, and
bows and trembles beneath their insurrectionary movements. Now to prevent
this taking place prophets and apostles concur on all sides in helping
us, repressing our passions, and expelling all the ferocity of the irrational
element within us, and committing a mode of government to us far more dignified
than the empire. This is why I said that they who deprive themselves of
this care(1) receive a blow in the vital parts, sustaining greater damage
than can be inflicted from any other quarter inasmuch as they who come
here get greater gain than they could derive from any other source: even
as Scripture has declared. The law said "Thou shalt not appear before the
Lord empty;"(2) that is, enter not into the temple without sacrifices.
Now if it is not right to go into the house of God without sacrifices,
much more ought we to enter the assembly accompanied by our brethren: for
this sacrifice and offering is better than that, when thou bringest a soul
with thee into the Church. Do you not see doves which have been trained,
how they hunt for others when they are let out? Let us also do this. For
what kind of excuse shall we have, if irrational creatures are able to
hunt for an animal of their own species, while we who have been honoured
with reason and so much wisdom neglect this kind of pursuit? I exhorted
you in my former discourse with these words: "Go, each of you to the houses
of your neighbours, wait for them to come out, lay hold of them, and conduct
them to their common mother: and imitate those who are mad upon theatre
going, who diligently arrange to meet each other and so wait at early dawn
to see that iniquitous spectacle." Yet I have not effected anything by
this exhortation. Therefore I speak again and shall not cease speaking,
until I have persuaded you. Hearing profits nothing unless it is accompanied
by practice. It makes our punishment heavier, if we continually hear the
same things and do none of the things which are spoken. That the chastisement
will be heavier, hear the they have no cloke for their sin."(3) And the
Apostle says "for not the hearers of the law shall be justified."(4) These
things He says to the hearers; but when He wishes to instruct the speaker
also, that even he will not gain anything from his teaching unless his
behaviour is in close correspondence with his doctrine, and his manner
of life is in harmony with his speech, hear how the Apostle and the prophet
address themselves to him: for the latter says "but to the sinner said
God, why dost thou preach my laws and takest my covenant in thy mouth,
whereas thou hast hated instruction?"(5) And the Apostle, addressing himself
to these same again who thought great things of their teaching, speaks
on this wise: "Thou art confident that thou thyself art a leader of the
blind, a light of those who are in darkness, an instructor of the foolish,
a teacher of babes: thou therefore that teachest another teachest thou
not thyself?"(6) Inasmuch then as it could neither profit me the speaker
to speak, nor you the hearers to hear, unless we comply with the things
which are spoken, but rather would increase our condemnation, let us not
limit the display of our zeal to hearing only, but let us observe what
is said, in our deeds. For it is indeed a good thing to spend time
continually in hearing the divine oracles: but this good thing becomes
useless when the benefit to be derived from hearing is not linked with
it.
Therefore that you may not assemble here in vain
I shall not cease beseeching you with all earnestness, as I have often
besought you before, "conduct your brethren to us, exhort the wanderers,
counsel them not by word only but also by deed." This is the more powerful,
teaching--that which comes through our manners and behaviour--Even if you
do not utter a word, but yet, after you have gone out of this assembly,
by your mien, and your look, and your voice and all the rest of your demeanour
you exhibit to the men who have been left behind the gain which you have
brought away with you, this is sufficient for exhortation and advice. For
we ought to go out from this place as it were from some sacred shrine,
as men who have descended from heaven itself, who have become sedate, and
philosophical, who do and say everything in proper measure: and when a
wife sees her husband returning from the assembly, and a father his son,
and a friend his friend, and an enemy his enemy, let them all receive and
they perceive that you have become milder more philosophical, more devout.
Consider what privileges you enjoy who hast been initiated into the mysteries.(7)
with what company thou offerest up that mystic hymn, with what company
thou criest aloud the "Ter sanctus."
228
art ranked as a citizen of the commonwealth above, that thou hast been
enrolled in the choir of Angels, that thou hast conversed with the Lord,
that thou hast been in the company of Christ. If we regulate ourselves
in this way we shall not need to say anything, when we go out to those
who are left behind: but from our advantage they will perceive their own
loss and will hasten hither, so as to enjoy the same benefits themselves.
For when, merely by the use of their senses, they see the beauty of your
soul shining forth, even if they are the most stupid of men, they will
become enamoured of your goodly appearance. For if corporeal beauty excites
those who behold it, much more will symmetry of soul be able to move the
spectator, and stimulate him to equal zeal. Let us then adorn our inward
man, and let us be mindful of the things which are said here. when we go
out: for there especially is it a proper time to remember them; and just
as an athlete displays in the lists the things which he has learned in
the training school: even so ought we to display in our transactions in
the world without the things which we have heard here.
5. Bear in mind then the things which are said here,
that when you have gone out and the devil lays hold of you either by means
of anger or vainglory, or any other passion, you may call to remembrance
the teaching which you have received here and may be able easily to shake
off the grasp of the evil one. Do you not see the wrestling-masters in
the practising grounds, who, after countess contests having obtained exemption
from wrestling on account of their age, sit outside the lines by the side
of the dust and shout to those who are wrestling inside, telling one to
grasp a hand, or drag a leg, or seize upon the back, and by many other
directions of that kind, saying, "if you do so and so you will easily throw
your antagonist," they are of the greatest service to their pupils? Even
so do thou look to thy training master the blessed Paul, who after countless
victories is now sitting outside the boundary, I mean this present life,
and cries aloud to us who are wrestling, shouting out by means of his Epistles,
when he sees us overcome by wrath and resentment of injuries, and choked
by passion; "if thy enemy hunger feed him, if he thirst give him drink;"(1)--a
beautiful precept full of spiritual wisdom, and serviceable both to the
doer and the receiver. But the reminder of the passage causes much perplexity,
and does not seem to correspond to the sentiment of him who uttered the
former words. And what is the nature of this? the saying that "by so doing
thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head." For by these words he does
a wrong both to the doer and the receiver: to the latter by setting his
head on fire, and plating coals upon it; for what good will he get from
receiving food and drink in proportion to the evil he will suffer from
the heaping of coals on his head? Thus then the recipient of the benefit
is wronged, having a greater vengeance inflicted on him, but the benefactor
also is injured in another way. For what can he gain from doing good to
his enemies when he acts in the hope of revenge? For he who gives meat
and drink to his enemy for the purpose of heaping coals of fire on his
head would not become merciful and kind, but cruel and harsh, having inflicted
an enormous punishment by means of a small benefit. For what could be more
unkind than to feed a person for the purpose of heaping coals of fire on
his head? This then is the contradiction: and now it remains that the solution
should be added, in order that by those very things which seem to do violence
to the letter of the law you may dearly see all the wisdom of the lawgiver.
What then is the solution?
That great and noble-minded man was well aware of
the fact that to be reconciled quickly with an enemy is a grievous and
difficult thing; grievous and difficult, not on account of its own nature,
but of our moral indolence. But he commanded us not only to be reconciled
with our enemy, but also to feed him; which was far more grievous than
the former. For if some are infuriated by the mere sight of those who have
annoyed them, how would they be willing to feed them when they were hungry?
And why do I speak of the sight infuriating them? If any one makes mention
of the persons, and merely introduces their name in sorely, it revives
the wound in our imagination, and increases the heat of passion. Paul then
being aware of all these things and wishing to make what was hard and difficult
of correction smooth and easy, and to persuade one who could not endure
to see his enemy, to be ready to confer that benefit already mentioned
upon him, added the words about coals of fire, in order that a man prompted
by the hope of vengeance might hasten to do this service to one who had
annoyed him. And in order that one of them hastening to its accustomed
food may be captured by means of it and easily held fast: even so Paul
also wishing to lead on the man who has been wronged to below a benefit
on the man who has
229
wronged him does not present to him the bare hook of spiritual wisdom,
but having covered it as it were with a kind of bait, I mean the "coals
of fire," invites the man who has been noyed him; but when he has come
he holds him fast in future, and does not let him make off, the very nature
of the deed attaching him to his enemy; and he all but says to him: "if
thou art not willing to feed the man who has wronged thee for piety's sake:
feed him at least from the hope of punishing him." For he knows that if
the man once sets his hand to the work of conferring this benefit, a starting-point
is made and a way of reconciliation is opened for him. For certainly no
one would have the heart to regard a man continually as his enemy to whom
he has given meat and drink, even if he originally does this in the hope
of vengeance. For time as it goes on relaxes the tension of his anger.
As then the fisherman, if he presented the bare hook would never allure
the fish, but when he has covered it gets it unawares into the mouth of
the creature who comes up to it: so also Paul if he had not advanced the
expectation of inflicting punishment would never have persuaded those who
were wronged to undertake to benefit those who had annoyed them. Wishing
then to persuade those who recoiled in disgust, and were paralysed by the
very sight of their enemies, to confer the greatest benefits upon them,
he made mention of the coals of fire, not with a view of thrusting the
persons in question into inexorable punishment, but in order that when
he had persuaded those who were wronged to benefit their enemies in the
expectation of punishing them, he might afterwards in time persuade them
to abandon their anger altogether. They unites again the man who has done
the wrong to him who has been provoked. First of all by the very manner
of the benefit: (for there is no one so degraded and unfeeling as to be
unwilling, when he receives meat and drink, to become the servant and friend
of him who does this for him): and in the second place through the dread
of vengeance. For the passage, "by so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire
on his head" seems indeed to be addressed to the person who gives the food;
but it more especially touches him who has caused the annoyance, in order
that through fear of this punishment he may be deterred from remaining
continually in a state of enmity, and being aware that the reception of
food and drink might do him the greatest mischief if he constantly retains
his animosity, may suppress his anger. For thus he will be able to quench
the coals of fire. Wherefore the proposed punishment and vengeance both
induces the one who has been wronged to benefit him who has annoyed him,
and it deters and checks him who has given the provocation, and impels
him to reconciliation with the man who gives him meat and drink. Paul therefore
linked the two persons by a twofold bond, the one depending on a benefit,
the other on an act of vengeance. For the difficulty is to make a beginning
and to find an opening for the reconciliation: but when that has once been
reared in whatever way it may be, all which follows will be smooth and
easy. For even if at first the man who has been annoyed feeds his enemy
in the hope of punishing him, yet becoming his friend by the act of giving
him food he will be able to expel the desire of vengeance. For when he
has become a friend he will no longer feed the man who has been reconciled
to him, with an expectation of this kind. Again he who has given the provocation,
when he sees the man who has been wronged electing to give him meat and
drink, casts out all his animosity, both on account of this deed, and also
of his fear of the punishment which is in store for him, even if he be
excessively hard and harsh and stony hearted, being put to shame by the
benevolence of him who gives him food, and dreading the punishment reserved
for him, if he continues to be an enemy after accepting the food.
For this reason Paul did not stop even here in his
exhortation, but when he has emptied each side of wrath he proceeds to
correct their disposition, saying, "be not overcome of eviL" "For if,"
he says, "you continue to bear resentment and to seek revenge you seem
indeed to conquer your enemy, but in reality you are being conquered by
evil, that is, by wrath: so that if you wish to conquer, be reconciled,
and do not make an attack upon your adversary;" for a brilliant victory
is that in which by means of good, that is to say by forbearance, you overcome
evil expelling wrath and resentment. But the injured man, when inflamed
with passion would not have borne these words. Therefore when he had satisfied
his wrath he proceeded to conduct him to the best reason for reconciliation,
and did not permit him to remain permanently animated by the wicked hope
of vengeance. Dost thou perceive the wisdom of the lawgiver? And that you
may learn that he introduced this law only on account of the weakness of
those who would not otherwise be content to make terms amongst themselves,
hear how Christ, when He ordained a law on this same subject did not pro-
230
pose the same reward, as the Apostle; but, having said "Love your enemies
do good to them that hate you," which means give them food and drink, He
did not add "for in so doing ye shall heap coals of fire on their heads:"
but what did He say? "that ye may become like your Father who is in Heaven."(1)
Naturally so, for He was discoursing to Peter, James, and John and the
rest of the apostolic band: therefore He proposed that reward. But if you
say that even on this understanding the precept is onerous you improve
once more the defence which I am making for Paul, but you deprive yourself
of every plea of indulgence. For I can prove to you that this which seems
to you onerous was accomplished under the Old Dispensation when the manifestation
of spiritual wisdom was not so great as it is now. Impressions which were
employed by him who originally brought it in, that he might leave no room
for excuse to those who do not observe it: for the precept "if thine enemy
hunger feed him, if he thirst give him drink" is not the utterance of Paul
in the first instance, but of Solomon.(2) For this reason he quoted the
words that he might persuade the hearer that for one who has been advanced
to such a high standard of wisdom to regard an old law as onerous and grievous
which was often fulfilled by the men of old time, is one of the basest
things possible. Which of the ancients, you ask, fulfilled it? There were
many, but amongst others David especially did so more abundantly? He did
not indeed merely give food or drink to his enemy, but also rescued him
several times from death, when he was in jeopardy; and when he had it in
his power to slay him he spared him once, twice, yea many times. As for
Saul he hated and abhorred him so much after the countless good services
which he had done, after his brilliant triumphs, and the salvation which
he had wrought in the matter of Goliath, that he could not bear to mention
him by his own name, but called him after his father. For once when a festival
was at hand, and Saul, having devised some treachery against him, and contrived
a cruel plot, did not see him arrive "where," said he, "is the son of Jesse?"(3)
He called him by his father's name, both because on account of his hatred
he could not endure the recollection of his proper name, and also because
he thought to damage the distinguished position of that righteous man by
a reference to his low birth;--a miserable and despicable thought: for
certainly, even if he had some accusation to bring against the father this
could in no wise injure David. For each man is answerable for his own deeds,
and by these he can be praised and accused. But as it was, not having any
evil deed to mention, he brought forward his low birth, expecting by this
means to throw his glory into the shade, which in fact was the height of
folly. For what kind of offence is it to be the child of insignificant
and humble then, "the son of Jesse," but when David found him sleeping
inside the cave, he did not call him the "son of Kish," but by his title
of honour: "for I will not lift up my hand," he said, "against the Lord's
anointed."(4) So purely free was he from wrath and resentment of injuries:
he calls him the Lord's anointed who had done him such great wrongs, who
countless good services had many times attempted to destroy him. For he
did not consider how Saul deserved to be treated, but he considered what
was becoming for himself both to do and to say, which is the greatest stretch
of moral wisdom. How so? When thou hast got thy enemy in a prison, made
fast by a twofold, or rather by a triple chain, confinement of space, dearth
of assistance, and necessity of sleep, dost thou not demand a penalty and
punishment of him? "No," he says; "for I am not now regarding what he deserves
to suffer, but what it behoves me to do." He did not look to the facility
for slaying, but to the accurate observance of the moral wisdom which was
becoming to him. And yet which of the existing circumstances was not sufficient
to prompt him to the act of slaughter? Was not the fact that his enemy
was delivered bound into his hands a sufficient inducement? For you are
aware I suppose that we hasten more eagerly to deeds for which facilities
abound, and the hope of success increases our desire to act, which was
just what happened then in his case.
Well! did the captain who then counselled and urged
him to the deed,(5) did the memory of past events induce him to slay? no
one of these things moved him: in fact the very facility for slaughter
averted him from it: for he bethought him that God had put Saul in his
hands for the purpose of furnishing ample ground and opportunity for the
exercise of moral wisdom. You then perhaps admire him, because he did not
cherish the memory of any of his past evils: but I am much more astonished
at him for another reason. And what is this? that the fear of future events
did not
231
impel him to lay violent hands on his enemy. For he knew dearly that
if Saul escaped his hands, he would again be his adversary; yet he preferred
exposing himself to danger by letting go the man who had wronged him, to
providing for his own security by laying violent hands upon his foe. What
could equal then the great and generous spirit of this man, who, when the
law commanded eye to be plucked out for eye, and tooth for tooth, and retaliation
on equal terms,(2) not only abstained from doing this, but exhibited a
far greater measure of moral wisdom? At least if he had slain Saul at that
time he would have retained credit for moral wisdom unimpaired, not merely
because he had acted on the defensive, not being himself the originator
of violence, but also because by his great moderation he was superior to
the precept "an eye for an eye." For he would not have inflicted one slaughter
in return for one; but, in return for many deaths, which Saul endeavoured
to bring on him, having attempted to slay him not once or twice but many
times, he would have brought only one death on Saul; and not only this,
but if he had proceeded to avenge himself out of fear of the future, even
this, combined with the things already mentioned, would procure him the
reward of forbearance without any deduction. For he who is angry on account
of the things which have been done to him, and demands misses the consideration
of all past evils, although they are many and painful, but is compelled
to take steps for self-defence from fear of the future, and by way of providing
for his own security, no one would deprive him of the rewards of moderation.
7. Nevertheless David did not act even thus, but
found a novel and strange form of moral wisdom: and neither the remembrance
of things past, nor the fear of things to come, nor the instigation of
the captain, nor the solitude of the place, nor the facility for slaying,
nor anything else incited him to kill; but he spared the man who was his
enemy, and had given him pain just as if he was some benefactor, and had
done him much good. What kind of indulgence then shall we have, if we are
mindful of past transgressions, and avenge ourselves on those who have
given us pain, whereas that innocent man who had undergone such great sufferings
and expected more and death the man who would cause him endless troubles?
His moral wisdom then we may perceive, not only
from the fact that he did not slay Saul, when there was so strong a compulsion,
but also that he did not utter an irreverent word against him, although
he who was insulted would not have heard him. Yet we often speak evil of
friends when they are absent, he on the contrary not even of the enemy
who had done him such great wrong. His moral wisdom then we may perceive
from these things: but his lovingkindness and tender care from what he
did after these things. For when he had cut off the fringe of Saul's garment,
and had taken away the bottle of water he withdrew afar off and stood and
shouted, and exhibited these things to him whose life he had by his deeds
that he suspected him without a cause as his enemy, and aiming therefore
at winning him into friendship. Nevertheless when he had even thus failed
to persuade him, and could have laid hands on him, he again chose rather
to be an exile from his country and to sojourn in a strange land, and suffer
distress every day, in procuring necessary food than to remain at home
and vex his adversary. What spirit could be kinder than his? He was indeed
justified in saying "Lord remember David and all his meekness."(2) Let
us also imitate him, and let us neither say nor do evil to our enemies,
but benefit them according to our power: for we shall do more good to ourselves
than to them. "For if ye forgive your enemies," we are told "ye shall be
forgiven."(3) Forgive base offences that thou mayest receive a royal
pardon for thy offences; but if any one has done thee great wrongs, the
greater the wrongs you forgive, the greater will be the pardon which you
will receive. Therefore we have been instructed to say "Forgive us, as
we forgive," that we may learn that the measure of our forgiveness takes
its beginning in the first place from ourselves. Wherefore in proportion
to the severity of the evil which the enemy does to us is the greatness
of the benefit which he bestows. Let us then be earnest and eager to be
reconciled with those who have vexed us, whether their wrath be just or
uncessity that the trial of the case should be
232
brought forward in the other world. As then many men when they have a dispute with one another, if they come to a friendly understanding together outside the law court save themselves loss, and alarm, and many risks, the issue of the case turning out in accordance with the sentiment of each party; but if they severally entrust the affair to the judge the only result to them will be loss of money, and in many cases a penalty, and the permanent endurance of their hatred; even so here if we come to terms during our present life we shall relieve ourselves from all punishment; but if while remaining enemies we depart to that terrible tribunal in the other world we shall certainly pay the utmost penalty at the sentence of the judge there, and shall both of us undergo inexorable punishment: he who is unjustly wroth because he is thus unjustly disposed, and he who is justly wroth, because he has, however justly, cherished resentment. For even if we have been unjustly ill-treated, we ought to grant pardon to those who have wronged us. And observe how he urges and incites those who have unjustly given pain to reconciliation with those whom they have wronged. "If thou offerest thy gift before the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee, go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother."(1) He did not say, "assemble, and offer thy sacrifice" but "be reconciled and then offer it." Let it lie there, he says, in order that the necessity of making the offering may constrain him who is justly wroth to come to terms even against his will. See how he again prompts us to go to the man who has provoked us when he says "Forgive your debtors in order that your Father may also forgive your trespasses." For He did not propose a small reward, but one which far exceeds the magnitude of the achievement. Considering all these things then, and counting the recompense which is given in this case and remembering that to wipe away sins does not entail much labour and zeal, let us pardon those who have wronged us. For that which others scarcely accomplish, I mean the blotting out of their own sins by means of fasting and lamentations, and prayers, and sackcloth, and ashes, this it is possible for us easily to effect without sackcloth and ashes and fasting if only we blot out anger from our heart, and with sincerity forgive those who have wronged us. May the God of peace and love, having banished from our soul all wrath and bitterness, and anger, deign to grant that we being closely knit one to another according to the proper adjustment of the parts,(2) may with one accord, one mouth and one soul continually offer up our hymns of thanksgiving due to Him: for to Him be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.
AGAINST PUBLISHING THE ERRORS OF THE
BRETHREN.
HOMILY
UPON THE NOT PUBLISHING THE ERRORS OF THE BRETHREN, NOR UTTERING IMPRECATIONS
UPON ENEMIES.
1. I ACCOUNT you happy for the zeal, beloved, with which you flock into the Father's house. For from this zeal I have ground for feeling confidence about your health also with respect to the soul; for indeed the school of the Church is an admirable surgery--a surgery, not for bodies, but for souls. For it is spiritual, and sets right, not fleshly wounds, but errors of the mind,(1) and of these errors and wounds the medicine is the word. This medicine is compounded, not from the herbs growing on the earth, but from the words proceeding from heaven--this no hands of physicians, but tongues of preachers have dispensed. On this account it lasts right through; and neither is its virtue impaired by length of time, nor defeated by any strength of diseases. For certainly the medicines of physicians have both these defects; for while they are fresh they display their proper strength, but when much time has passed; just as those bodies which have grown old; they become weaker; and often too the difficult character of maladies is wont to baffle them; since they are but human. Whereas the divine medicine is not such as this; but after much time has intervened, it still retains all its inherent virtue. Ever since at least Moses was born (for from thence dates the beginning of the Scripture) it has healed so many human beings; and not only has it not lost its proper power, but neither has any disease ever yet overcome it. This medicine it is not possible to get by payment of silver; but he who has displayed sincerity of purpose and disposition goes his way having it all. On account of this both rich and poor alike obtain the benefit of this healing process. For where there is a necessity to pay down money the man of large means indeed shares the benefit; but the poor man often has to go away deprived of the gain, since his income does not suffice him for the making up of the medicine. But in this case, since it is not possible to pay down silver coin, but it is needful to display faith and a good purpose, he who has paid down these with forwardness of mind, this is he who most reaps the advantage; since indeed these are the price paid for the medicinal treatment. And the rich and the poor man share the benefit alike; or rather it is not alike that they share the benefit, but often the poor man goes away in the enjoyment of more. What ever can be the reason? It is because the rich man, possessed beforehand by many thoughts, having the pride and puffed-up temper belonging to wealthiness; living with carelessness and lazy ease as companions, receives the medicine of the hearing of the Scriptures not with much attention, nor with much earnestness; but the poor man, far removed from delicate living and gluttony and indolence; spending all his time in handicraft and honest labours; and gathering hence much
236
love of wisdom for the soul; becomes thereby more attentive and free
from slackness, and is wont to give his mind with more accurate care to
all that is said: whence also, inasmuch as the price he has paid is higher,
the benefit which he departs having reaped is greater.
2. It is not as absolutely bringing an accusation
against those who are wealthy that I say all this; nor as praising the
poor without reference to circumstances: for neither is wealth an evil,
but the having made a bad use of wealth; nor is poverty a virtue, but the
having made a virtuous use of poverty. That rich man who was in the time
of Lazarus was punished,(1) not because he was rich, but because he was
cruel and inhuman. And that poor man who rested in the bosom of Abraham
was praised, not because he was poor, but because he had borne his poverty
with thankfulness.
For of things--(now attend carefully to this saying;
for it will avail to put into you sufficient religious knowledge, and to
cast out all unsound reasoning, and to bring about your having your judgment
right concerning the truth of things)--well, of things some are by nature
morally good, and others the contrary; and others neither good nor evil,
but they occupy the intermediate position. A good thing piety is by nature,
impiety an evil thing; a good thing virtue, an evil thing wickedness; but
wealth and poverty in themselves are neither the one nor the other; but
from the will of those who use them they become either the one or the other.
For if thou hast used thy wealth for purposes of philanthropy, the thing
becomes to thee a foundation of good; but if for rapine and grasping and
insolence, thou hast turned the use of it to the direct opposite; but for
this wealth is not chargeable, but he who has used his wealth for insolence.
So also we may say of poverty: if thou have borne it nobly by giving thanks
to the Master, what has been done becomes to thee a cause and ground for
receiving crowns; but if on account of this thou blaspheme thy Creator,
and accuse Him for His providence, thou hast again used the thing to an
evil purpose. But just as in that case it is not wealth that is responsible
for the avarice, but the person who has made a bad use of wealth, so also
here we are not to lay the blame of the blasphemy on poverty, but on him
who did not choose to bear the thing in a sober spirit. For in every case
both the praise and the blame belong to our own will and choice. Good is
wealth, yet not absolutely, but to him only to whom it is not sin; and
again poverty is wicked, but not absolutely, but only in the mouth of the
impious, because he is discontented, because he blasphemes, because he
is indignant, because he accuses Him who has made him.
3 Let us not therefore accuse riches, nor revile
poverty absolutely, but those who do not will(2) to use these virtuously;
for the things themselves lie in the middle. But as I was saying (for it
is good to return to the former subject), both rich and poor enjoy the
benefit of the medicines administered here with the same boldness and freedom;
and often the poor with more earnestness. For the special excellence of
the medicines is not this only, that they heal souls, that their virtue
is not destroyed by length of time, that they are not worsted by any disease,
that the benefit is publicly offered gratuitously, that the healing treatment
is on a footing of equality both for rich and poor--but they have another
quality also not inferior to these good points. Pray of what character
is this? It is that we do not publicly expose those who come to this surgery.
For they who go off to the surgeries of the outside world, have many who
examine their wounds, and unless the physician have first uncovered the
sore, he does not apply the dressing; but here not so, but seeing as we
do innumerable patients, we go through the medical treatment of them in
a latent manner. For not by dragging into publicity those who have sinned
do we thus noise abroad the sins committed by them; but after putting forth
our teaching, as common to all, we leave it entirely to the conscience
of the hearers; so that each may draw to himself from what is said the
suitable medicine for his own wound. For there proceeds the word of doctrine
from the tongue of the speaker, containing accusation of wickedness, praise
of virtue, blame of lewdness, commendation of chasteness, censure of pride,
praise of gentleness, just as a medicine of varied and manifold ingredients,
compounded from every kind; and to take what is applicable to himself and
salutary is the part of each of the hearers. The word then issues openly,
and settling into the conscience of each, secretly both affords the healing
treatment which comes from it, and before the malady has been divulged,
has often restored health.
4. You at all events heard yesterday how I extolled
the power of prayer, how I reproached those who pray with listlessness;
without having publicly exposed one of them. Those then who were conscious
to themselves of earnestness, accepted that commendation of prayer,
237
and became still more earnest by the praises, while those who were conscious
to themselves of listlessness, accepted on the other hand the rebuking,
and put off their carelessness. But neither these nor those do we know;
and this ignorance is serviceable to both--how, I now tell you. He who
has heard the commendations of prayer and is conscious to himself of earnestness,
were he to have many witnesses of the commendations, would have lapsed
towards pride; but, as it is, by having secretly accepted the praise, he
is removed from all arrogance. On the other hand he who is conscious to
himself of listlessness, having heard the accusation, has become better
from the accusation, as having no one of men a witness of the rebuking;
and this was of no ordinary profit to him. For on account of the being
flurried at the opinion of the vulgar,(1) so long as we may think that
we escape notice in our wickedness, we exert ourselves to become better;
but when we have become notorious to all, and have lost the consolation
derived from the escaping notice, we grow more shameless and remiss rather.
And just as sores become more painful by being unbandaged and frequently
exposed to cold air, so also the soul after having sinned, if in the presence
of many it be rebuked for what it has done amiss, grows thereby more shameless.
In order therefore that this might not take place, the word administered
its medicine to you covertly. And that you may understand(2) that the gain
which this covert treatment has is great, hear what the Christ says. "If
thy brother have committed a fault against thee convince him of it," and
he did not say "between him and the whole town," nor, "between thee and
the whole people,"(3) but "only between thee and him." Let the accusation,
he says, be unwitnessed to, in order that the change to amendment may be
made easy of digestion. A great good surely, the making the advice unpublished.
Sufficient is the conscience, sufficient that incorruptible judge. It is
not so much thou who rebukest him who has done wrong as his own conscience
(that accuser is the sharper), nor dost thou do it with the more exact
knowledge of the faults committed. Add not therefore wound to wound by
exposing him who has done wrong; but administer for thyself the counsel
unwitnessed. This therefore we a, re doing now--the very thing that Paul
also did, framing the indictment against him who among the Corinthians
had sinned without citing of witnesses. And hear how. "On this account,"
he says, "brethren, I have applied these figures of speech to myself and
Apollos." And yet not he himself nor Apollos were they who had rent the
people in schism and divided the Church; but all the same he concealed
the accusation, and just as by some masks, by hiding the countenances of
the defendants by his own and Apollos' names, he afforded them power to
amend of that wickedness. And again, "Lest in some way after I have come
God humble me, and I may have to mourn many of those who have before sinned,
and have not repented over the uncleanness and lasciviousness which they
had committed."(4) See how here also he indefinitely mentions those who
had sinned, in order that he might not, by openly bringing the accusation,
render the soul of those who had sinned more shameless. Therefore, just
as we administer our reproofs with so much sparing of your feelings, so
do ye also with all seriousness receive the correction; and attend with
carefulness to what is said.
5. We discoursed to you yesterday about the power
which is in prayer. I pointed out(5) how the devil then lies in wait, deceiver
that he is. For since he sees very great gain accruing to us from prayer,
then most he assails us, in order that he may disable us from our defence;(6)
that he may send us off home empty-handed. And just as before magistrates,
when the officers of the court who are about the person of the magistrate
have a hostile feeling toward those who come before him, they by their
staves drive them away to a distance, preventing their coming near and
resorting to lamentation and so obtaining compassion; so also the devil,
when he has seen us coming to the judge, drives us away to a distance,
not by any staff, but through our own slackness. For he knows, he knows
clearly, that if they have come to him in a sober spirit, and have told
the sins committed, and have mourned with their soul fervent, they will
depart having received full forgiveness; for God loves mankind; and on
this account he is beforehand with them, and debars them from access,(7)
in order that they may obtain no one of the things which they need. But
the soldiers of magistrates with violence scare away those who are coming
to them; but he with no compulsion, but by deceiving us, and throwing us
into security. On this account we are not deserving even of allowance,
since we voluntarily deprive ourselves of the good things. Prayer with
238
earnestness is a light of the understanding and soul--a light unquenchable
and perpetual. On this account he throws into our minds countless rubbish-heaps
of imaginations; and things which we never had imagined, these collecting
together at the very moment of prayer he pours down upon our souls. And
just as winds often rushing from an opposite quarter by a violent gust
extinguish a lamp's flame as it is being lighted, so also the devil, when
he has seen the' flame of our prayer being kindled, blowing it on every
side with the blasts of countless thoughts, does not desist before and
until he has quenched the light. But the very thing which they who are
kindling those lamps do, this let us also do. And what do they do? When
they see a violent wind coming, by laying their finger upon the opening
of the lamp they bar the entrance against the wind. For so long as he assails
from without we shall be able to stand against him; but when we have opened
to him the doors of the mind, and have received the enemy inside; after
that we are no longer able to withstand even a little; but, having on all
sides completely extinguished the memory,(1) just as a smoking lamp, he
allows our mouth to utter empty words. But just as they put their finger
upon the opening of the lamp, so let us lay consideration upon our mind:
let us close off from the wicked spirit the entrance, in order that he
may not quench our light of prayer. Remember both those illustrations,
both that of the soldiers and the magistrate, and that respecting the lamp.
For with this purpose we adduce to you these illustrations; with which
we are conversant, in which we live, in order that, after we have departed
hence and have returned home, we may from things of familiar occurrence
receive a reminder of what has been said.
6. Prayer is a strong piece of armour and a great
security. You heard yesterday how the three children, fettered as they
were, destroyed the power of the fire; how they trampled down the blaze;
how they overcame the furnace, and conquered the operation of the element.
Hear to-day again how the noble and great Isaac overcame the nature itself
of bodies through prayer. They destroyed(2) the power of fire, this man
to-day loosed the bonds of incapacitated nature. And learn how he effected
this. "Isaac," it says, "prayed(3) concerning his wife, because she was
barren." This has to-day been read to you; yesterday the sermon was about
prayer; and to-day again there is a demonstration of the power of prayer.
See how the grace of the Spirit has ordered that what has been read to-day
harmonises with what was said yesterday. "Isaac," it says, "prayed concerning
Rebecca his wife, because she was barren." This first is worth inquiring
into, for what cause she was barren. She was of a life admirable and replete
with much chastity--both herself and her husband. We cannot lay hold(4)
of the life of those just ones, and say that the barrenness was the work
of sin. And not only was she herself barren, but also his mother Sarah,
who had borne him; not only was his mother barren and his wife, but also
his daughter-in-law, the wife of Jacob, Rachel. What is the meaning of
this band of barren ones? All were righteous, all living in virtue, all
were witnessed to by God. For it was of them that He said, "I am the God
of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob." Of the same persons
Paul also thus speaks. "For which cause God is not ashamed to call himself
their God."(5) Many are the commendations of them in the New, many the
praises of them in the Old Testament. On all sides they were bright and
illustrious, and yet they all had barren wives, and continued in childlessness
until an advanced period. When therefore thou seest man and wife living
with virtue; when thou seest them beloved of God, caring for piety, and
yet suffering the malady of childlessness; do not suppose that the childlessness
is at all a retribution for sins. For many are God's reasons for the dispensation,
and to us inexplicable; and for all we must be heartily thankful, and think
those only wretched who live in wickedness; not those who do not possess
children. Often God does it expediently, though we know not the cause of
events. On this account in every case it is our duty to admire His wisdom,
and to glorify His unspeakable love of man.
7. Well,(6) this consideration indeed is able to
school us in moral character, but it is necessary also to state the cause
for which those women were barren. What then was the cause? It was in order
that when thou hast seen the Virgin bringing forth our common Master, thou
mightest not disbelieve. Wherefore exercise thy mind in the womb of the
barren; in order that when thou hast seen the womb, disabled and bound
as it is, being opened to the bearing of children from the grace of God,
thou mightest not marvel at hearing that a virgin has brought forth. Or
rather even marvel and be astounded; but do not disbelieve the marvel.
When the Jew says to thee, "how did the virgin bear?" say to him "how did
she bear who was barren and
239
enfeebled by old age?" There were then two hindrances, both the unseasonableness
of her age and the unserviceableness of nature; but in the case of the
Virgin there was one hindrance only, the not having shared in marriage.
The barren one therefore prepares the way for the virgin. And that thou
mayest learn that it was on this account that the barren ones had anticipated
it, in order that the Virgin's childbirth might be believed, hear the words
of Gabriel which were addressed to her--For when he had come and said to
her, "thou shalt conceive in the womb and bear a son, and thou shall call
his name Jesus;" the Virgin was astonished and marvelled, and said, "how
will this be to me, since I know not a man." What then said the Angel?
"The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee." Seek not the sequence of nature,
he says, when that which takes place is above nature; look not round for
marriage and throes of child-birth, when the manner of the birth is too
grand for marriage. "And how will this be," she says, "since I know not
a husband." And verily on this account shall this be, since thou knowest
no husband. For didst thou know a husband, thou wouldest not have been
deemed worthy to serve this ministry. So that, for the reason why thou
disbelievest, for this believe. And thou wouldest not have been deemed
worthy to serve this ministry, not because marriage is an evil; but because
virginity is superior; and fight it was that the entry of the Master should
be more august than ours; for it was royal, and the king enters through
one more august. It was necessary that He should both share as to birth,
and be diverse from ours. Wherefore both these things are managed.
For the being born from the womb is common in respect
to us, but the being born without marriage is a thing greater than on a
level with us. And the gestation and conception in the belly belongs to
human nature; but that the pregnancy should take place without sexual intercourse
is too august for human nature.(1) And for this purpose both these things
took place, in order that thou mayest learn both the pre-eminence and the
fellowship with thee of Him who was born.
8. And pray consider the wisdom of all that was
done. Neither did the pre-eminence injure the likeness and kinship to us,
nor did the kinship to us dim the pre-eminence; but both were displayed
by all the circumstances; and the one had our condition in its entirety,
and the other what was diverse compared with us. But just as I was saying,
on this account the barren ones went before, in order that the Virgin's
child-birth might be believed, that she(1) might be led by the hand to
faith in that promise and undertaking which she heard from the angel, saying,
"The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the miraculous power(2) of the
Most High shall overshadow thee"--thus, he says, thou art able to bear.
Look not to the earth; it is from the heavens that the operation will come.
That which takes place is a grace of the Spirit; pray inquire not about
nature and laws of marriage. But since those words were too high for her,
he wills to afford also another demonstration. But do thou, pray, observe
how the barren one leads her on the way to the belief in this. For since
that demonstration was too high for the Virgin's intelligence, hear how
he brought down what he said to lower things also, leading her by the hand
by sensible facts. For "behold," he says, "Elizabeth thy kinswoman--she
also has conceived a son in her old age; and this month is the sixth to
her who was called barren." Seest thou that the barren one was for the
sake of the Virgin? since with what object did he adduce to her the child-bearing
of her kinswoman? with what object did he say, "in her old age?" with what
object did he add, "who was called barren?" It was by way of inducing her
by all these things, manifestly, to the believing the glad annunciation.
For this cause he spoke of both the age and the disabling effect of nature;
for this cause he awaited the time also which had elapsed from the conception;
for he did not tell to her the glad tidings immediately from the beginning,(3)
but awaited for a six-months period to have passed to the barren one, in
order that the puerperal swelling might, for the rest, be a pledge of the
pregnancy, and an indisputable demonstration might arise of the conception.
And pray again look at the intelligence of Gabriel. For he neither reminded
her(4) of Sarah, nor of Rebecca, nor of Rachel; and yet they also were
barren, and they had grown old, and that which took place was a marvel;
but the stories were ancient. Now things new and recent and occurring in
our generation are wont to induce us into the belief of marvels more than
those which are old. On this account having let those women alone, that
she should understand from her kinswoman Elizabeth herself what was coming
upon her, he brought it forward; so as from her to lead her to her own--that
most awful and august childbirth. For the child-birth of the barren one
lay between ours and that of the Master less indeed than that of the Virgin,
but greater
240
than ours. On this account it was by Elizabeth lying between, just as
by some bridge, that he lifted up the mind of the Virgin from the travail
which is according to nature, to that which is above nature.
9. I did desire to say more, and to teach you other
reasons for which Rebecca, and Rachel, were barren; but the time does not
permit; urging on the discourse to the power of prayer. For on this account
indeed I have mooted all these points, that ye might understand how the
prayer of Isaac unbound the barrenness of his wife; and that prayer for
so long a time. "Isaac," it says, "continually prayed about Rebecca his
wife, and God listened to him." For do not suppose that he invoked God
and had immediately been listened to; for he had spent much time in praying
to God. And if you desire to learn how much, I will tell you this too with
exactness. He had spent the number of twenty years in praying to God. Whence
is this manifest? from the sequence itself. For the Scripture, desiring
to point out the faith and the endurance and the love of wisdom of that
righteous man, did not break off and leave untold even the time, but made
it also clear to us, covertly indeed, so as to rouse up our indolence;
but nevertheless did not allow it to be uncertain, Hear then how it covertly
indicated to us the time. "Now Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebecca,
a daughter of Bethuel the Syrian." You hear how many years old he was when
he brought home his wife: "Forty years old," it says, "he was when he took
Rebecca." But since we have learnt how many years old he was when he married
his wife, let us learn also when he after all became a father, and how
many years old he was then, when he begat Jacob; and we shall be able to
see how long a time his wife had remained barren; and that during all that
time he continued to pray to God. How many years old then was he when he
begat Jacob? "Jacob," it says, "came forth laying hold with his right hand
of his brother's heel: on this account he called him Jacob, and him Esau.
Now Isaac was sixty years old when he begat them." If therefore when he
brought Rebecca home he was forty years old, and when he begat the sons
sixty, it is very plain that his wife had remained barren for twenty years
between, and during all this time Isaac continued to pray to God.
10. After this do we not feel shame, and hide our
faces, at seeing that righteous man for twenty years persevering(1) and
not desisting; we ourselves after a first or second petition often fainting
and indignant? And yet he indeed had in large measure liberty of speech
towards God,(2) and all the same he felt no discontent at the delay of
the giving, but remained patient, whereas we, laden with countless sins,
living with an evil conscience, displaying no good will towards the Master;
if we are not heard before having spoken, are bewildered, impatiently recoil,
desist from asking--on this account we always retire with empty hands.
Who has for twenty years besought God for one thing, as this righteous
man did? or rather who for twenty months only? Yesterday I was saying that
they are many who pray with slackness, and yawning, and stretching themselves,
and continually shifting their attitude, and indulging in every carelessness
in their prayers--but to-day I have found also another damage attaching
itself to their prayers more destructive than that one. For many, throwing
themselves prostrate, and striking the ground with their forehead, and
pouring forth hot tears, and groaning bitterly from the heart(3) and stretching
out their hands, and displaying much earnestness, employ this warmth and
forwardness against their own salvation. For it is not on behalf of their
own sins that they beseech God; nor are they asking forgiveness of the
offences committed by them; but they are exerting this earnestness against
their enemies entirely, doing just the same thing as if one, after whetting
his sword, were not to use the weapon against his enemies, but to thrust
it through his own throat. So these also use their prayers not for the
remission of their own sins, but about revenge on their enemies; which
is to thrust the sword against themselves. This too the wicked one has
devised, in order that on all sides we may destroy ourselves, both through
slackness and through earnestness. For the one class by their carelessness
in their prayers exasperate God, by displaying contempt through their slackness;
and the others, when they display earnestness, display the earnestness
on the other hand against their own salvation. "A certain person," he (the
devil) says, "is slack: that is sufficient for me with a view to his obtaining
nothing; this man is earnest and thoroughly aroused; what then must be
done to accomplish the same result? I cannot slacken his earnestness, nor
throw him into carelessness; I will contrive his de-
241
struction in the other way. How so? I will manage that he use his earnestness
for transgressing the law:" (for the praying against one's personal enemies
is a transgression of law). "He shall depart therefore not only having
gained nothing by his earnestness, but also having endured the hurt which
is greater than that caused through slackness." Such as these are the injuries
of the devil: the one sort he destroys through their remissness; and the
other through thor earnestness itself, when it is shown not according to
God's laws.
11. But it is also worth hearing the very words
of their prayer, and how the words are of a puerile mind; of how infantile
a soul. I am ashamed in truth when about to repeat them; but it is absolutely
necessary to repeat them, and to imitate that coarse tongue. What then
are the words? "Avenge me of my enemies, show them that I too have God
(on my side)." They do not then learn, man, that we have God, when we are
indignant and angry and impatient; but when we are gentle and meek and
subdued, and practise all love of wisdom. So also God said, "Let your light
shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father
who is in the heavens."(1) Perceivest thou not that it is an insult to
God, the making a request to God against thine enemies? And how is it an
insult? one will say. Because He Himself said, "pray for your enemies;"
and brought in this divine law. When therefore thou claimest that the legislator
should relax his own laws; and callest upon him to legislate in opposition
to himself; and supplicatest him who had forbidden thee to pray against
thine enemies to hear thee praying against thine enemies; thou art not
praying in doing this, nor calling upon him; but thou art insulting the
lawgiver, and acting with drunken violence towards him, who is sure to
give to thee the good things which result from prayer. And how is it possible
to be heard when praying, tell me, when thou exasperatest him who is sure
to hear? For by doing these things thou art pushing thine own salvation
into a pit, and art rushing down a precipice, by striking thine enemy before
the king's eyes.(2) For even if thou doest not this with the hands, with
thy words thou strikest him, the thing which thou darest not do even in
the case of thy fellow-slaves. At least dare to do this in a ruler's presence,
and though thou hast done countless public services, thou wilt straightway
surely be led away to execution. Then (I ask) in the presence of a ruler
dost thou not dare to insult thine equal, but when doing this in God's
presence, tell me, dost thou not shudder, nor fear when in the time of
entreaty and prayer bring so savage and turning thyself into a wild beast;
and displaying greater want of feeling than he who demanded payment of
the hundred pence?(3) For that thou art more insolent than he, listen to
the story itself. A certain man owed ten thousand talents to his master;
then, not having (where-with) to pay, he entreated him to be long-suffering,
in order that, his wife having been sold and his house and his children,
he might settle his master's claim. And the master seeing him lamenting
had compassion on him, and remitted the ten thousand talents. He having
gone out and found another servant owing him a hundred pence, seizing his
throat demanded them with great cruelty and inhumanity. The Master having
heard this threw him into the prison, and laid on him again the debt of
the ten thousand talents which he had before remitted; and he paid the
penalty of the cruelty shown towards his fellow-servant.
12. Now do thou consider in how much more unfeeling
and insensible in a way thou hast acted even than he, praying against thine
enemies. He did not beg his master to demand, but he himself demanded,
the hundred pence; whereas thou even callest on the Master for this shameless
and forbidden demand. And he seized his fellow-servant's throat not before
his lord's eyes, but outside; while thou in the very moment of prayer,
standing in the King's presence, doest this. And if he, for doing this
without either having urged his master to the demand, and after going forth,
met with no forgiveness; thou, both stirring up the Master to (exacting)
this forbidden payment, and doing this before his eyes, what sort of penalty
will thou have to pay? tell me. But thy mind is inflamed by the memory
of the enmity, and swells, and thy heart rises,(4) and when recurring in
memory to him who has caused pain, thou art unable to reduce the swelling
of thy thought. But set against this inflammation the memory resulting
from thine own sins committed the fear resulting from the punishment to
come. Recall to memory for how many things thou art accountable to thy
master, and that for all those things thou owest Him satisfaction; and
this fear will surely overcome that anger; since indeed this is far more
powerful than that passion. Recall the memory of hell and punishment and
vengeance during the time of thy prayer; and thou wilt not be able even
to receive thine enemy into
242
thy mind.(1) Make thy mind contrite, humble thy soul by the memory of the offences committed by thee, and wrath will not be able even to trouble thee. But the cause of all these evils is this, that we scrutinise the sins of all others with great exactitude; while we let our own pass with great remissness. Whereas we ought to do the contrary--to keep our own faults unforgotten; but never even to admit a thought of those of others. If we do this we shall both have God propitious, and shall cease cherishing immortal anger against our neighbours, and we shall never have any one as an enemy; and even if we should have at any time we shall both quickly put an end to his enmity, and should obtain speedy pardon for our own sins. For just as he who treasures up the memory of wrong against his neighbour does not permit the punishment upon his own sins to be done away; so he who is clear of anger will speedily be clear of sins also. For if we, wicked as we are and enslaved to passion, on account of the commandment of God overlook all the faults committed against us, much more will He who is a lover of mankind, and good, and free from any passion, overlook our delinquencies, rendering to us the recompense of our kindly spirit towards our neighbour in the forgiveness of our own sins: which God grant that we may attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is the glory and the dominion, to the ages of the ages. Amen.
EUTROPIUS, PATRICIAN AND CONSUL.
HOMILY I.
ON EUTROPIUS, THE EUNUCH, PATRICIAN AND CONSUL.
1. "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity"--it is always seasonable to utter this but more especially at the present time. Where are now the brilliant surroundings of thy consulship? where are the gleaming torches? Where is the dancing, and the noise of dancers' feet, and the banquets and the festivals? where are the garlands and the curtains of the theatre? where is the applause which greeted thee in the city, where the acclamation in the hippodrome and the flatteries of spectators? They are gone--all gone: a wind has blown upon the tree shattering down all its leaves, and showing it to us quite bare, and shaken from its very root; for so great has been the violence of the blast, that it has given a shock to all these fibres of the tree and threatens to tear it up from the roots. Where now are your reigned friends? where are your drinking parties, and your suppers? where is the swarm of parasites, and the wine which used to be poured forth all day long, and the manifold dainties invented by your cooks? where are they who courted your power and did and said everything to win your favour? They were all mere visions of the night, and dreams which have vanished with the dawn of day: they were spring flowers, and when the spring was over they all withered: they were a shadow which has passed away--they were a smoke which has dispersed, bubbles which have burst, cobwebs which have been rent in pieces. Therefore we chant continually this spiritual song--"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." For this saying ought to be continually written on our walls, and garments, in the market place, and in the house, on the streets, and on the doors and entrances, and above all on the conscience of each one, and to be a perpetual theme for meditation. And inasmuch as deceitful things, and maskings and pretence seem to many to be realities it behoves each one every day both at supper and at breakfast, and in social assemblies to say to his neighhour and to hear his neighbour say in return "vanity of vanities, all is vanity." Was I not continually telling thee that wealth was a runaway? But you would not heed me. Did I not tell thee that it was an unthankful servant? But you would not be persuaded. Behold actual experience has now proved that it is not only a runaway, and ungrateful servant, but also a murderous one, for it is this which has caused thee now to fear and tremble. Did I not say to thee when you continually rebuked me for speaking the truth, "I love thee better than they do who flatter thee?" "I who reprove thee care more for thee than they who pay thee court?" Did I not add to these words by saying that the wounds of friends were more to be relied upon than the voluntary kisses of enemies.(1) If you had submitted to my wounds their kisses would not have wrought thee this destruction: for my wounds work health, but their kisses have produced an incurable disease. Where are now thy cup-bearers, where are they who cleared the way for thee in the market place, and sounded thy praises endlessly in the ears of all? They have fled, they have disowned thy friendship, they are providing for their own safety by means of thy distress. But I do not act thus, nay in thy misfortune I do not abandon thee, and now when thou art fallen I protect and tend thee. And the Church which
250
you treated as an enemy has opened her bosom and received thee into
it; whereas the theatres which you courted, and about which you were oftentimes
indignant with me have betrayed and ruined thee. And yet I never ceased
saying to thee "why doest thou these things?" "thou art exasperating the
Church, and casting thyself down headlong," yet thou didst hurry away from
all my warnings. And now the hippodromes, having exhausted thy wealth,
have whetted the sword against thee, but the Church which experienced thy
untimely wrath is hurrying in every direction, in her desire to pluck thee
out of the net.
2. And I say these things now not as trampling upon
one who is prostrate, but from a desire to make those who are still standing
more secure; not by way of irritating the sores of one who has been wounded,
but rather to preserve those who have not yet been wounded in sound health;
not by way of sinking one who is tossed by the waves, but as instructing
those who are sailing with a favourable breeze, so that they may not become
overwhelmed. And how may this be effected? by observing the vicissitudes
of human affairs. For even this man had he stood in fear of vicissitude
would not have experienced it; but whereas neither his own conscience,
nor the counsels of others wrought any improvement in him, do ye at least
who plume yourselves on your riches profit by his calamity: for nothing
is weaker than human affairs. Whatever term therefore one may employ to
express their insignificance it will fall short of the reality; whether
he calls them smoke, or grass, or a dream or spring flowers, or by any
other name; so perishable are they, and more naught than nonentities;(1)
but that together with their nothingness they have also a very perilous
element we have a proof before us. For who was more exalted than this man?
Did he not surpass the whole world in wealth? had he not climbed to the
very pinnacle of distinction? did not all tremble and fear before him?
Yet lo! he has become more wretched than the prisoner, more pitiable than
the menial slave, more indigent than the beggar wasting away with hunger,
having every day a vision of sharpened swords and of the criminal's grave,
and the public executioner leading him out to his death; and he does not
even know if he once enjoyed past pleasure, nor is he sensible even of
the sun's ray, but at mid day his sight is dimmed as if he were encompassed
by the densest gloom. But even let me try my best I shall not be able to
present to you in language the suffering which he must naturally undergo,
in the hourly expectation of death. But indeed what need is there of any
words from me, when he himself has clearly depicted this for us as in a
visible image? For yesterday when they came to him from the royal court
intending to drag him away by force, and he ran for refuge to the holy
furniture,(2) his face was then, as it is now, no better than the countenance
of one dead: and the chattering of his teeth, and the quaking and quivering
of his whole body, and his faltering voice, and stammering tongue, and
in fact his whole general appearance were suggestive of one whose soul
was petrified.
3. Now I say these things not by way of reproaching
him, or insulting his misfortune, but from a desire to soften your minds
towards him, and to induce you to compassion, and to persuade you to be
contented with the punishment which has already been inflicted. For since
there are many inhuman persons amongst us who are inclined, perhaps, to
find fault with me for having admitted him to the sanctuary, I parade his
sufferings from a desire to soften their hardheartedness by my narrative.
For tell me, beloved brother, wherefore art thou
indignant with me? You say it is because he who continually made war upon
the Church has taken refuge within it. Yet surely we ought in the highest
degree to glorify God, for permitting him to be placed in such a great
strait as to experience both the power and the lovingkindness of the Church:--her
power in that he has suffered this great-vicissitude in consequence of
the attacks which he made upon her: her lovingkindness in that she whom
he attacked now casts her shield in front of him and has received him under
her wings, and placed him in all security not resenting any of her former
injuries, but most lovingly opening her bosom to him. For this is more
glorious than any kind of trophy, this is a brilliant victory, this puts
both Gentiles and Jews to shame, this displays the bright aspect of the
Church: in that having received her enemy as a captive, she spares him,
and when all have despised him in his desolation, she alone like an affectionate
mother has concealed him under her cloak,(3) opposing both the wrath of
the king, and the rage of the people, and their overwhelming hatred. This
is an ornament for the altar. A strange kind of ornament, you say, when
the accused sinner, the extortioner, the robber is permitted to lay hold
of the altar. Nay! say not so: for even the harlot took hold of the feet
of Jesus, she who was stained with the most accursed and unclean sin: yet
her deed was no reproach to
251
Jesus, but rather redounded to His admiration and praise: for the impure
woman did no injury to Him who was pure, but rather was the vile harlot
rendered pure by the touch of Him who was the pure and spotless one. Grudge
not then, O man. We are the servants of the crucified one who said "Forgive
them for they know not what they do."(1) But, you say, he cut off the right
of refuge here by his ordinances and divers kinds of laws. Yes! yet now
he has learned by experience what it was he did, and he himself by his
own deeds has been the first to break the law, and has become a spectacle
to the whole world, and silent though he is, he utters from thence a warning
voice to all, saying "do not such things as I have done, that ye suffer
not such things as I suffer." He appears as a teacher by means of his calamity,
and the altar emits great lustre, inspiring now the greatest awe from the
fact that it holds the lion in bondage; for any figure of royalty might
be very much set off if the king were not only to be seen seated on his
throne arrayed in purple and wearing his crown, but if also prostrate at
the feet of the king barbarians with their hands bound behind their backs
were bending low their heads. And that no persuasive arguments have been
used, ye yourselves are witnesses of the enthusiasm, and the concourse
of the people. For brilliant indeed is the scene before us to day, and
magnificent the assembly, and I see as large a gathering here to-day as
at the Holy Paschal Feast. Thus the man has summoned you here without speaking
and yet uttering a voice through his actions clearer than the sound of
a trumpet: and ye have all thronged hither to-day, maidens deserting their
boudoirs, and matrons the women's chambers, and men the market place that
ye may see human nature convicted, and the instability of worldly affairs
exposed, and the harlot-face which a few days ago was radiant (such is
the prosperity derived from extortion) looking uglier than any wrinkled
old woman, this face I say you may see denuded of its enamel and pigments
by the action of adversity as by a sponge
4. Such is the force of this calamity: it has made
one who was illustrious and conspicuous appear the most insignificant of
men. And if a rich man should enter the assembly he derives much profit
from the sight: for when he beholds the man who was shaking the whole world,
now dragged down from so high a pinnacle of power, cowering with fright,
more terrified than a hare or a frog, nailed fast to yonder pillar, without
bonds, his fear serving instead of a chain, panic-stricken and trembling,
he abates his haughtiness, he puts down his pride, and having acquired
the kind of wisdom concerning human affairs which it concerns him to have
he departs instructed by example in the lesson which Holy Scripture teaches
by precept:--"All flesh is grass and all the glory of man as the flower
of grass: the grass withereth and the flower faileth"(2) or "They shall
wither away quickly as the grass, and as the green herb shall they quickly
fail"(3) or "like smoke are his days,"(4) and all passages of that kind.
Again the poor man when he has entered and gazed at this spectacle does
not think meanly of himself, nor bewail himself on account of his poverty,
but feels grateful to his poverty, because it is a place of refuge to him,
and a calm haven, and secure bulwark; and when he sees these things he
would many times rather remain where he is, than enjoy the possession of
all men for a little time and afterwards be in jeopardy of his own life.
Seest thou how the rich and poor, high and low, bond and free have derived
no small profit from this man's taking refuge here? Seest thou how each
man will depart hence with a remedy, being cured merely by this sight?
Well! have I softened your passion, and expelled your wrath? have I extinguished
your cruelty? have I induced you to be pitiful? Indeed I think I have;
and your countenances and the streams of tears you shed are proofs of it.
Since then your hard rock has turned into deep and fertile soil let us
hasten to produce some fruit of mercy, and to display a luxuriant crop
of pity by falling down before the Emperor or rather by imploring the merciful
God so to soften the rage of the Emperor, and make his heart tender that
he may grant the whole of the favour which we ask. For indeed already since
that day when this man fled here for refuge no slight change has taken
place; for as soon as the Emperor knew that he had hurried to this asylum,
although the army was present, and incensed on account of his misdeeds,
and demanded him to be given up for execution, the Emperor made a long
speech endeavouring to allay the rage of the soldiers, maintaining that
not only his offences, but any good deed which he might have done ought
to be taken into account, declaring that he felt gratitude for the latter,
and was prepared to forgive him as a fellow creature for deeds which were
otherwise. And when they again urged him to avenge the insult done to the
imperial majesty, shouting, leaping, and brandishing their spears, he shed
streams of tears from his gentle eyes, and having reminded them of the
Holy Table
252
to which the man had fled for refuge he succeeded at last in appeasing
their wrath.
5. Moreover let me add some arguments which concern
ourselves. For what pardon could you deserve, if the Emperor bears no resentment
when he has been insulted, but ye who have experienced nothing of this
kind display so much wrath? and how after this assembly has been dissolved
will ye handle the holy mysteries, and repeat that prayer by which we are
commanded to say "forgive us as we also forgive our debtors"(1) when ye
are demanding vengeance upon your debtor? Has he inflicted great wrongs
and insults on you? I will not deny it. Yet this is the season not for
judgment but for mercy; not for requiring an account, but for showing loving
kindness: not for investigating claims but for conceding them; not for
verdicts and vengeance, but for mercy and favour. Let no one then be irritated
or vexed, but let us rather beseech the merciful God to grant him a respite
from death, and to rescue him from this impending destruction, so that
he may put off his transgression, and let us unite to approach the merciful
Emperor beseeching him for the sake of the Church, for the sake of the
altar, to concede the life of one man as an offering to the Holy Table.
If we do this the Emperor himself will accept us, and even before his praise
we shall have the approval of God, who will bestow a large recompense upon
us for our mercy. For as he rejects and hates the cruel and inhuman, so
does He welcome and love the merciful and humane man; and if such a man
be righteous, all the more glorious is the crown which is wreathed for
him: and if he be a sinner, He passes over his sins granting this as the
reward of compassion shown to his fellow-servant. "For" He saith "I will
have mercy and not sacrifice,"(2) and throughout the Scriptures you find
Him always enquiring after this, and declaring it to be the means of release
from sin. Thus then we shall dispose Him to be propitious to us, thus we
shall release ourselves from our sins, thus we shall adorn the Church,
thus also our merciful Emperor, as I have already said, will commend us,
and all the people will applaud us, and the ends of the earth will admire
the humanity and gentleness of our city, and all who hear of these deeds
throughout the world will extol us. That we then may enjoy these good things,
let us fall down in prayer and supplication, let us rescue the captive,
the fugitive, the suppliant from danger that we ourselves may obtain the
future blessings by the favour and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom
be glory and power, now and for ever, world without end. Amen.
HOMILY II.
AFTER EUTROPIUS HAVING BEEN FOUND OUTSIDE THE CHURCH HAD BEEN
TAKEN CAPTIVE.
1. Delectable indeed are the meadow, and the garden, but far more delectable the study of the divine writings. For there indeed are flowers which fade, but here are thoughts which abide in full bloom; there is the breeze of the zephyr, but here the breath of the Spirit: there is the hedge of thorns, but here is the guarding providence of God; there is the song of cicadae, but here the melody of the prophets: there is the pleasure which comes from sight, but here the profit which comes from study. The garden is confined to one place, but the Scriptures are in all parts of the world; the garden is subject to the necessities of the seasons, but the Scriptures are rich in foliage, and laden with fruit alike in winter and in summer. Let us then give diligent heed to the study of the Scriptures: for if thou doest this the Scripture will expel thy despondency, and engender pleasure, extirpate vice, and make virtue take root, and in the tumult of life it will save thee from suffering like those who are tossed by troubled waves. The sea rages but thou sailest on with calm. weather; for thou hast the study of the Scriptures for thy pilot; for this is the cable which the trials of life do not break asunder. Now that I lie not events themselves bear witness. A few days ago the Church was besieged: an army came, and fire issued from their eyes, yet it did not scorch the olive tree; swords were unsheathed, yet no one received a wound the imperial gates were in distress, but the Church was in security. And yet the tide of
253
war flowed hither; for here the refugee was sought, and we withstood
them, not fearing their rage. And wherefore prithee? because we held as
a sure pledge the saying "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build
my Church: and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."(1) And
when I say the Church I mean not only a place but also a plan of life:(2)
I mean not the walls of the Church but the laws of the Church. When thou
takest refuge in a Church, do not seek shelter merely in the place
but in the spirit of the place. For the Church is not wall and roof but
faith and life.
Do not tell me that the man having been surrendered
was surrendered by the Church if he had not abandoned the Church he would
not have been surrendered. Do not say that he fled here for refuge and
then was given up: the Church did not abandon him but he abandoned the
Church. He was not surrendered from within the Church but outside its walls.
Wherefore did he forsake the Church? Didst thou desire to save thyself?
Thou shouldst have held fast to the altar. There were no walls here, but
there was the guarding providence of God. Wast thou a sinner? God does
not reject thee: for "He came not to call the righteous but sinners to
repentance."(3) The harlot was saved when she clung to His feet. Have ye
heard the passage read to-day? Now I say these things that thou mayest
not hesitate to take refuge in the Church. Abide with the Church, and the
Church does not hand thee over to the enemy: but if thou fliest from the
Church, the Church is not the cause of thy capture. For if thou art inside
the fold the wolf does not enter: but if thou goest outside, thou art liable
to be the wild beast's prey: yet this is not the fault of the fold, but
of thy own pusillanimity. The Church hath no feet. Talk not to me of walls
and arms: for walls wax old with time, but the Church has no old age. Walls
are shattered by barbarians, but over the Church even demons do not prevail.
And that my words are no mere vaunt there is the evidence of facts. How
many have assailed the Church, and yet the assailants have perished while
the Church herself has soared beyond the sky? Such might hath the Church:
when she is assailed she conquers: when snares are laid for her she prevails:
when she is insulted her prosperity increases: she is wounded yet sinks
not under her wounds; tossed by waves yet not submerged; vexed by storms
yet suffers no shipwreck; she wrestles and is not worsted, fights but is
not vanquished. Wherefore then did she suffer this war to be? That she
might make more manifest the splendour of her triumph. Ye were present
on that day, and ye saw what weapons were set in motion against her, and
how the rage of the soldiers burned more fiercely than fire, and I was
hurried away to the imperial palace.(4) But what of that? By the grace
of God none of those things dismayed me.
2. Now I say these things in order that ye too may
follow my example. But wherefore was I not dismayed? Because I do not fear
any present terrors. For what is terrible? Death? nay this is not terrible:
for we speedily reach the unruffled haven. Or spoliation of goods? "Naked
came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I depart;"(5) or exile?
"The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof;"(6) or false accusation?
"Rejoice and be exceeding glad, when men shall say all manner of evil against
you falsely, for great is your reward in Heaven."(7) I saw the swords and
I meditated on Heaven; I expected death, and I bethought me of the resurrection;
I beheld the sufferings of this lower world, and I took account of the
heavenly prizes; I observed the devices of the enemy, and I meditated on
the heavenly crown: for the occasion of the contest was sufficient for
encouragement and consolation. True! I was being forcibly dragged away,
but I suffered no insult from the act; for there is only one real insult,
namely sin: and should the whole world insult thee, yet if thou dost not
insult thyself thou art not insulted. The only real betrayal is the betrayal
of the conscience: betray not thy own conscience, and no one can betray
thee. I was being dragged away and I saw the events--or rather I saw my
words turned into events, I saw my discourse which I had uttered in words
being preached in the market-place through the medium of actual events.
What kind of discourse? the same which I was always repeating. The wind
has blown and the leaves have fallen "The grass has withered and the flower
has faded."(8) The night has departed and the day has dawned; the shadow
has been proved vain and the truth has appeared. They mounted up to the
sky, and they came down to the level of earth: for the waves which were
swelling high have been laid low by means of merely human events. How?
The things which were taking place were a lesson. And I said to myself
will posterity learn self-control? or before two days have passed by will
these events have been abandoned to oblivion? The warnings were sounding
in their ears. Again let me utter, yet again I will speak. What profit
will there be? Certainly there will be profit. For
254
if all do not hearken, the half will hearken; and if not the half, the
third part: and if not the third the fourth: and if not the fourth, perhaps
ten: and if not ten, perhaps five: and if not five perhaps one: and if
not one, I myself have the reward prepared for me. "The grass withereth
and the flower fadeth; but the word of God abideth for ever."(1)
3. Have ye seen the insignificance of human affairs?
have ye seen the frailty of power? Have ye seen the wealth which I always
called a runaway and not a runaway only, but also a murderer. For it not
only deserts those who possess it, but also slaughters them; for when any
one pays court to it then most of all does it betray him. Why dost thou
pay court to wealth which to-day is for thee, and to-morrow for another?
Why dost thou court wealth which can never be held fast? Dost thou desire
to court it? dost thou desire to hold it fast? Do not bury it but give
it into the hands of the poor. For wealth is a wild beast: if it be tightly
held it runs away: if it be let loose it remains where it is; "For," it
is said, "he hath dispersed abroad and given to the poor; his righteousness
remaineth forever."(2) Disperse it then that it may remain with thee; bury
it not lest it run away. Where is wealth? I would gladly enquire of those
who have departed. Now I say these things not by way of reproach, God forbid,
nor by way of irritating old sores, but as endeavouring to secure a haven
for you out of the shipwreck of others. When soldiers and swords were threatening,
when the city was in a blaze of fury, when the imperial majesty was powerless,
and the purple was insulted, when all places were full of frenzy, where
was wealth then? where was your silver plate? where were your silver couches?
where your household slaves? they had all betaken themselves to flight;
where were the eunuchs? they all ran away; where were your friends? they
changed their masks. Where were your houses? they were shut up. Where was
your money? the owner of it fled: and the money itself, where was that?
it was buried. Where was it all hidden? Am I oppressive and irksome to
you in constantly declaring that wealth betrays those who use it badly?
The occasion has now come which proves the truth of my words. Why dost
thou hold it so tightly, when in the time of trial it profiteth thee nothing?
If it has power when thou fallest into a strait, let it come to thy aid,
but if it then runs away what need hast thou of it? events themselves bear
witness. What profit was there in it? The sword was whetted death was impending,
an army raging: there was apprehension of imminent peril; and yet wealth
was nowhere to be seen. Where did the runaway flee? It was itself the cause
which brought about all these evils, and yet in the hours of necessity
it runs away. Nevertheless many reproach me saying continually thou fasteneth
upon the rich: while they on the other hand fasten upon the poor. Well
I do fasten upon the rich: or rather not the rich, but those who make a
bad use of their riches. For I am continually saying that I do not attack
the character of the rich man, but of the rapacious. A rich man is one
thing, a rapacious man is another: an affluent man is one thing, a covetous
man is another. Make clear distinctions, and do not confuse things which
are diverse. Art thou a rich man? I forbid thee not. Art thou a rapacious
man? I denounce thee. Hast thou property of thy own? enjoy it. Dost thou
take the property of others? I will not hold my peace. Wouldest thou stone
me for this? I am ready to shed my blood: only I forbid thy sin. I heed
not hatred, I heed not war: one thing only do I heed, the advancement of
my hearers. The rich are my children, and the poor also are my children:
the same womb has travailed with both, both are the offspring of the same
travail-pangs. If then thou fastenest reproaches on the poor man, I denounce
thee: for the poor man does not suffer so much loss as the rich. For no
great wrong is inflicted on the poor man, seeing that in his case the injury
is confined to money; but in thy case the injury touches the soul. Let
him who wills cast me off, let him who wills stone me, let him who wills
hate me: for the plots of enemies are the pledges to me of crowns of victory,
and the number of my rewards will be as the number of my wounds.
4. So then I fear not an enemy's plots: one thing.
only do I fear, which is sin. If no one convicts me of sin, then let the
whole world make war upon me. For this kind of war only renders me more
prosperous. Thus also do I wish to teach you a lesson. Fear not the devices
of a potentate, but fear the power of sin. No man will do thee harm, if
thou dost not deal a blow to thyself. If thou hast not sin, ten thousand
swords may threaten thee, but God will snatch thee away out of their reach:
but if thou hast sin, even shouldest thou be in paradise thou wilt be cast
out. Adam was in paradise yet he fell; Job was on a dung hill,
yet he was crowned victorious. What profit was paradise to the one? or
what injury was the dung hill to the other? No man laid snares for the
one, yet was he overthrown: the devil laid snares for the other, and yet
he was crowned. Did not the devil take
255
his property? Yes, but he did not rob him of his godliness. Did he not
lay violent hands upon his sons? yes: but he did not shake his faith.
Did he not tear his body to pieces? yes but he did not find his treasure.
Did he not arm his wife against him? yes but he did not overthrow the soldier.
Did he not hurl arrows and darts at him? yes but he received no wounds.
He advanced his engines but could not shake the tower; he conducted his
billows against him, but did not sink the ship. Observe this law I beseech
you, yea I clasp your knees, if not with the bodily hand, yet in spirit,
and pour forth tears of supplication. Observe this law I pray you, and
no one can do you harm. Never call the rich man happy; never call any man
miserable save him who is living in sin: and call him happy who lives in
righteousness. For it is not the nature of their circumstances, but the
disposition of the men which makes both the one and the other. Never be
afraid of the sword if thy conscience does not accuse thee: never be afraid
in war if thy conscience is clear. Where are they who have departed? tell
me. Did not all men once bow down to them? did not those who were in authority
tremble greatly before them? did they not pay court to them? But sin has
come, and all things are manifested in their true lights; they who were
attendants have become judges, the flatterers are turned into executioners;
they who once kissed his hands, dragged him themselves from the church,
and he who yesterday kissed his hand is to-day his enemy. Wherefore? Because
neither did he yesterday love him with sincerity. For the opportunity came
and the actors were unmasked. Didst thou not yesterday kiss his hands,
and call him saviour, and guardian, and benefactor? Didst thou not compose
panegyrics without end? wherefore to-day dost thou accuse him? Why yesterday
a praiser, and to-day an accuser? why yesterday utter panegyrics, and to-day
reproaches? What means this change? what means this revolution?
5. But I am not like this: I was the subject of
his plots, yet I became his protector. I suffered countless troubles at
his hands, yet I did not retaliate. For I copy the example of my Master,
who said on the cross, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Now I say these things that you may not be perverted by the suspicion of
wicked men. Now many changes have taken place, since I had the oversight
of the city, and yet no one learns I self-control? But when I say no one,
I do not condemn all, God forbid. For it is impossible that this
rich soil when it has received seed, should not produce one eat;
of corn: but I am insatiable, I do not wish many to be saved but all. And
if but one be left in a perishing condition, I perish also, and deem that
the Shepherd should be imitated who had ninety-nine sheep, and yet hastened
after the one which had gone astray.(1) How long will money last? how long
this silver and gold? how long these draughts of wine? how long the flatteries
of slaves? how long these goblets wreathed with garlands? how long these
satanic drinking feasts, full of diabolical activity?
Dost thou not know that the present life is a sojourn
in a far country? for art thou a citizen? Nay thou art a wayfarer. Understandest
thou what I say? Thou art not a citizen, but thou art a wayfarer, and a
traveller. Say not: I have this city and that. No one has a city. The city
is above. Present life is but a journey. We are journeying on every day,
while nature is running its course. Some there are who store up goods on
the way: some who bury jewellery on the road. Now when you enter an inn
do you beautify the inn? not so, but you eat and drink and hasten to depart.
The present life is an inn: we have entered it, and we bring present life
to a close: let us be eager to depart with a good hope, let us leave nothing
here, that we may not lose it there. When you enter the inn, what do you
say to the servant? Take care where you put away our things, that you do
not leave anything behind here, that nothing may be lost, not even what
is small and trifling, in order that we may carry everything back to our
home. Thou art a wayfarer and traveller, and indeed more insignificant
than the wayfarer. How so? I will tell you. The wayfarer knows when he
is going into the inn, and when he is going out; for the egress as well
as the regress is in his own power: but when I enter the inn, that is to
say this present life, I know not when I shall go out: and it may be that
I am providing myself with sustenance for a long time when the Master suddenly
summons me saying "Thou fool, for whom shall those things be which thou
hast prepared? for on this very night thy soul is being taken from thee."(2)
The time of thy departure is uncertain, the tenure of thy possessions insecure,
there are innumerable precipices, and billows on every side of thee. Why
dost thou rave about shadows? why desert the reality and run after shadows?
6. I say these things, and shall not cease saying
them, causing continual pain, and dressing the wounds; and this not for
the sake of the fallen, but of those who are still standing. For they have
departed, and their career is
256
ended, but those who are yet standing have gained a more secure position
through their calamities. "What then," you say, "shall we do?" Do one thing
only, hate riches, and love thy life--cast away thy goods; I do not say
all of them, but cut off the superfluities. Be not covetous of other men's
goods, strip not the widow, plunder not the orphan, seize not his house:
I do not address myself to persons but to facts. But if any one's conscience
attacks him, he himself is responsible for it, not my words. Why art thou
grasping where thou bringest ill-will upon thyself? Grasp where there is
a crown to be gained. Strive to lay hold not of earth but of heaven. "The
kingdom of Heaven belongs to violent men and men of violence take it by
force."(1) Why dost thou lay hold of the poor man who reproaches thee?
Lay hold of Christ who praises thee for it. Dost thou see thy senselessness
and madness? Dost thou lay hold of the poor man who has little? Christ
says "lay hold of me; I thank thee for it, lay hold of my kingdom and take
it by violence." If thou art minded to lay hold of an earthly kingdom,
or rather if thou art minded to have designs upon it thou art punished;
but in the case of the heavenly kingdom thou art punished if thou dost
not lay hold of it. Where worldly things are concerned there is ill-will,
but where spiritual there is love. Meditate daily on these things, and
if two days hence thou seest another riding in a chariot, arrayed in raiment
of silk, and elated with pride, be not again dismayed and troubled. Praise
not a rich man, but only him who lives in righteousness. Revile not a poor
man, but learn to have an upright and accurate judgment in all things.
Do not hold aloof from the Church; for nothing is
stronger than the Church. The Church is thy hope, thy salvation, thy refuge.
It is higher than the heaven, it is wider than the earth. It never waxes
old, but is always in full vigour. Wherefore as significant of its solidity
and stability Holy Scripture calls it a mountain: or of its purity a virgin,
or of its magnificence a queen; or of its relationship to God a daughter;
and to express its productiveness it calls her barren who has borne seven:
in fact it employs countless names to represent its nobleness. For as
the master of the Church has many names: being called the Father, and the
way,(2) and the life,(3) and the light,(1) and the arm,(5) and the propitiation,(6)
and the foundation,(7) and the door,(8) and the sinless one,(9) and the
treasure,(10) and Lord, and God, and Son, and the only begotten, and the
form of God,(11) and the image(12) of God so is it with the Church itself:
does one name suffice to present the whole truth? by no means. But for
this reason there are countless names, that we may learn something concerning
God, though it be but a small part. Even so the Church also is called by
many names. She is called a virgin, albeit formerly she was an harlot:
for this is the miracle wrought by the Bridegroom, that He took her who
was an harlot and hath made her a virgin. Oh! what a new and strange event?
With us marriage destroys virginity, but with God marriage hath restored
it. With us she who is a virgin, when married, is a virgin no longer: with
Christ she who is an harlot, when married, becomes a virgin.
7. Let the heretic who inquires curiously into the
nature of heavenly generation saying "how did the Father beget the Son?"
interpret this single fact, ask him how did the Church, being an harlot,
become a virgin? and how did she having brought forth children remain a
virgin? "For I am jealous over you," saith Paul, "with a godly jealousy,
for I espoused you to one husband that I might present you as a pure virgin
to Christ."(13) What wisdom and understanding! "I am jealous over you with
a godly jealousy." What means this? "I am jealous," he says: art thou jealous
seeing thou art a spiritual man? I am jealous he says as God is. And hath
God jealousy? yea the jealousy not of passion, but of love, and earnest
zeal. I am jealous over you with the jealousy of God. Shall I tell thee
how He manifests His jealousy? He saw the world corrupted by devils, and
He delivered His own Son to save it. For words spoken in reference to God
have not the same force as when spoken in reference to ourselves: for instance
we say God is jealous, God is wroth, God repents, God hates. These words
are human, but they have a meaning which becomes the nature of God. How
is God jealous? "I am jealous over you with the jealousy of God."(14) Is
God wroth? "O Lord reproach me not in thine indignation."(15) Doth God
slumber? "Awake, wherefore sleepest thou, O Lord?"(16) Doth God repent?
"I repent that I have made man."(17) Doth God hate? "My soul hateth your
feasts and your new moons."(18) Well do not consider the poverty of the
expressions: but grasp their divine meaning. God is jealous,
257
for He loves, God is wroth, not as yielding to passion, but for the
purpose of chastising, and punishing. God sleeps, not as really slumbering,
but as being long-suffering. Choose out the expression. Thus when thou
hearest that God begets the Son, think not of division but of the unity
of substance. For God has taken many of these words from us as we also
have borrowed others from Him, that we may receive honour thereby.
8. Dost thou understand what I have said? Attend
carefully my beloved. There are divine names, and there are human names.
God has received from me, and He Himself hath given to me. Give me thine,
and take mine He says. Thou hast need of mine: I have no need of thine,
but thou hast of mine inasmuch as my nature is unmixed, but thou art a
human being encompassed with a body, seeking also corporeal terms in order
that, by borrowing expressions which are familiar to thee, thou who art
thus encompassed with a body, mayest be able to think on thoughts which
transcend thy understanding. What kind of names hath He received from me,
and what kind hath He given to me? He Himself is God, and He hath called
me God; with Him is the essential nature as an actual fact, with me only
the honour of the name: "I have said ye are gods, and ye are all children
of the most highest."(1) Here are words, but in the other case there is
the actual reality. He hath called me god, for by that name I have received
honour. He Himself was called man, he was called Son of man, he was called
the Way, the Door, the Rock. These words He borrowed from me; the others
He gave from Himself to me. Wherefore was He called the Way? That thou
mightest understand that by Him we have access to the Father. Wherefore
was He called the Rock? that thou mightest understand the secure and unshaken
character of the faith. Wherefore was He called the Foundation? That thou
mightest understand that He upholdeth all things. Wherefore was He called
the Root? That thou mightest understand that in Him we have our power of
growth. Wherefore was He called the Shepherd? Because He feeds us. Wherefore
was He called a sheep? Because He was sacrificed for us and became a propitiatory
offering. Wherefore was He called the Life? Because He raised us up when
we were dead. Wherefore was He called the Light? Because He delivered us
from darkness. Why was He called an Arm? Because He is of one substance
with the Father. Why was He called the Word? Because He was begotten of
the Father. For as my word is the offspring of my spirit, even so was the
Son begotten of the Father. Wherefore is He called our raiment? Because
I was clothed with Him when I was baptized. Why is He called a table? Because
I feed upon Him when I partake of the mysteries. Why is He called a house?
Because I dwell in Him. Why is He called an inmate of the house? Because
we become His Temple. Wherefore is He called the Head? Because I have been
made a member of His. Why is He called a Bridegroom? Because He hath taken
me as His bride. Wherefore is He called undefiled? Because He took me as
a virgin. Wherefore is He called Master? Because I am His bondmaid.
9. For observe the Church, how, as I was saying,
she is sometimes a bride, sometimes a daughter, sometimes a virgin, sometimes
a bondmaid, sometimes a queen, sometimes a barren woman, sometimes a mountain,
sometimes a garden, sometimes fruitful in children, sometimes a lily, sometimes
a fountain: She is all things. Therefore having heard these things, think
not I pray you that they are corporeal; but stretch thy thought further:
for such things cannot be corporeal. For example: the mountain is not the
maid: the maid is not the bride: the queen is not the bond-maid: yet the
Church is all these things. Wherefore? because the element in which they
exist is not corporeal but spiritual. For in a corporeal sphere these things
are confined within narrow limits: but in a spiritual sphere they have
a wide field of operation. "The queen stood on thy right hand."(2) The
queen? How did she who was down-trodden and poor become a queen? and where
did she ascend? the queen herself stood on high by the side of the king.
How? because the king became a servant; He was not that by nature, but
He became so. Understand therefore the things which belong to the Godhead,
and discern those which belong to the Dispensation. Understand what He
was, and what He became for thy sake, and do not confuse things which are
distinct, nor make the argument of his lovingkindness an occasion for blasphemy.
He was lofty, and she was lowly: lofty not by position but by nature. His
essence was pure, and imperishable: His nature was incorruptble, unintelligible,
invisible, incomprehensible, eternal, unchangeable, transcending the nature
of angels, higher than the powers above, overpowering reason, surpassing
thought, apprehended not by sight but by faith alone. Angels beheld Him
and trembled, the Cheru-
258
bim veiled themselves with their wings, in awe. He looked upon the earth,
and caused it to tremble: He threatened the sea and dried it up:(1) he
brought rivers out of the desert: He weighed the mountains in scales, and
the valleys in a balance.(2) How shah I express myself? how shall I present
the truth? His greatness hath no bounds, His wisdom is beyond reckoning,
His judgments are untraceable, His ways unsearchable.(3) Such is His greatness
and His power, if indeed it is safe even to use such expressions. But what
am I to do? I am a human being and I speak in human language: my tongue
is of earth and I crave forgiveness from my Lord. For I do not use these
expressions in a spirit of presumption, but on account of the poverty of
my resources arising from my feebleness and the nature of our human tongue.
Be mercyful to me, O Lord, for I utter these words not in presumption but
because I have no others: nevertheless I do not rest content with the meanness
of my speech, but soar upwards on the wings of my understanding. Such is
His greatness and power. I say this, that without dwelling on the words,
or on the poverty of the expressions, thou mayest also thyself learn to
act in the same way. Why dost thou marvel if I do this, inasmuch as He
also does the same, when He wishes to present something to our minds which
transcends human powers? Since He addresses human beings He uses also human
illustration, which are indeed insufficient to represent the thing spoken
of, and cannot exhibit the full proportions of the matter, yet suffice
for the infirmity of the hearers.
10. Make an effort, and do not grow weary of my
prolonged discourse. For as when He manifests Himself, He is not manifested
as He really is, nor is His bare essence manifested (for no man hath seen
God in His real nature; for when He is but partially revealed the Cherubim
tremble--the mountains smoke, the sea is dried up, the heaven is shaken,
and if the revelation were not partial who could endure it?) as then, I
say, He does not manifest Himself as He really is, but only as the beholder
is able to see Him, therefore doth He appear sometimes in the form of old
age, sometimes of youth, sometimes in fire, sometimes in air, sometimes
in water, sometimes in armour, not altering his essential nature, but fashioning
His appearance to suit the various condition of those who are affected
by it. In like manner also when any one wishes to say anything concerning
Him he employs human illustrations. For instance I say: He went up into
the mountain and He was transfigured before them, and His countenance shone
as the sun, and His raiment became white as snow."(4) He disclosed, it
is said, a little of the Godhead, He manifested to them the God dwelling
amongst them "and He was trans-figured before them." Attend carefully to
the statement. The writer says and He was trans-figured before them, and
His raiment shone as the light, and His countenance was as the sun. When
I said "such is His greatness and power" and added "be merciful to 'me
O Lord," (for I do not rest satisfied with the expression but am perplexed,,
having no other framed for the purpose) I wish you to understand, that
I learned this lesson from Holy Scripture. The evangelist then wished to
describe His splendour and he says "He shone" How did He shine? tell me.
Exceedingly. And how do you express this? He shone "as the sun." As the
sun sayest thou? Yea. Wherefore? Because I know not any other luminary
more brilliant. And He was white sayest thou as snow? wherefore as snow?
Because I know not any other substance which is whiter. For that He did
not really shine thus is proved by what follows: the disciples fell to
the ground. If he had shone as the sun the disciples would not have fallen;
for they saw the sun every day, and did not fall: but inasmuch as he shone
more brilliantly than the sun or snow, they, being unable to bear the splendour,
fell to the earth.
11. Tell me then, O evangelist, did He shine more
brightly than the sun, and yet dost thou say, "as the sun?" Yea: wishing
to make that light known to thee, I know not any other greater luminary,
I have no other comparison which holds a royal place amongst luminaries.
I have said these things that thou mayest not rest contentedly in the poverty
of the language used: I have pointed out to thee the fall of the disciples:
they fell to the earth, and were stupified and overwhelmed with slumber.
"Arise" He said, and lifted them up, and yet they were oppressed. For they
could not endure the excessive brightness of that shining, but heavy sleep
took possession of their eyes: so far did the light which was manifested
exceed the light of the sun. Yet the evangelist said "as the sun," because
that luminary is familiar to us and surpasses all the rest.
But as I was saying, He who was thus great and powerful
desired an harlot. I speak of our human nature under that name. If a man
indeed desire an harlot he is condemned, and doth God desire one? Yea verily.
Again a
259
man desireth an harlot that he may become a fornicator: but God that He may convert the harlot into a virgin: so that the desire of the man is the destruction of her who is desired: but the desire of God is salvation to her who is desired. And why did He who is so great and powerful desire an harlot? that He might become the husband thereof. How doth He act? He doth not send to her any of His servants, He sendeth not angel, archangel, Cherubim, or Seraphim; but He himself draws nigh Who loves her. Again when thou hearest of love, deem it not sensous. Cull out the thoughts which are contained in the words, even as an excellent bee settles on the flowers, and takes the honey comb, but leaves the herbs God desired an harlot, and how doth He act? He does not conduct her on high; for He would not bring an harlot into Heaven, but He Himself comes down. Since she could not ascend on high, He descends to earth. He cometh to the harlot, and is not ashamed: He cometh to her secret dwelling place. He beholds her in her drunkenness. And how doth He come? not in the bare essence of His original nature, but He becomes that which the harlot was, not in intention but in reality does He become this, in order that she may not be scared when she sees Him, that she may not rush away, and escape. He cometh to the harlot, and becomes man. And how does He become this? He is conceived in the womb, he increases little by little and follows like me the course of human growth. Who is it who does this? the Deity as manifested, not the Godhead; the form of the servant not that of the Master; the flesh which belongs to me, not the essential nature which belongs to Him: He increases little by little, and has intercourse with mankind. Although He finds the harlot, human nature, full of sores, brutalised, and oppressed by devils, how does He act? He draws nigh to her. She sees Him and tees away. He calleth the wise men saying "Why are ye afraid? I am not a judge, but a physician. "I came not to judge the world but to save the world."(1) Straightway He calleth the wise men. Oh! new and strange event. The immediate first-fruits of His coming are wise men. He who upholds the world lieth in a manger, and He who careth for all things is a nursling in swaddling bands The temple is founded and the God dwelleth therein. And wise men come and straightway worship Him: the publican comes and is turned into an evangelist: the harlot comes and is turned into a maiden: the Canaanitish woman comes and partakes of his lovingkindness. This is the mark of one who loves, to forbear demanding an account of sins, and to forgive transgressions and offences. And how does He act? He takes the sinner and espouses her to himself. And what doth He give her? a signet ring. Of what nature? the Holy Spirit. Paul saith "now He who establishment us with you is God who hath also sealed us, and given the earnest of the Spirit."(1) The Spirit then He giveth her. Next He saith "Did not I plant thee in a garden?" She saith "yea?" And how didst thou fall from thence? "The devil came and cast me out of the garden." Thou wast planted in the garden and he cast thee out: behold I plant thee in myself, I uphold thee. How? The devil dares not approach me. Neither do I take thee up into Heaven; but something greater than Heaven is here: I carry thee in myself who am the Lord of Heaven. The shepherd carries thee and the wolf no longer comes: or rather I permit him to approach. And so the Lord carrieth our nature: and the devil approaches and is worsted. "I have planted thee in myself:" therefore He saith "I am the root, ye are the branches:"(3) so He planted her in Himself. "But," she saith, "I am a sinner and unclean." "Let not this trouble thee, I am a physician. I know my vessel, I know how it was perverted. It was formerly a vessel of clay, and it was perverted. I remodel it by means of the layer of regeneration and I submit it to the action of fire." For observe: He took dust from the earth and made the man; He formed him. The devil came, and perverted him. Then the Lord came, took him again, and remoulded, and recast him in baptism, and He suffered not his body to be of day, but made it of a harder ware. He subjected the soft day to the fire of the Holy Spirit. "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire:"(4) He was baptized with water that he might be remodelled, with fire that he might be hardened. Therefore the Prophet speaking beforehand under divine guidance declared "Thou shalt dash them in pieces like vessels of the potter."(5) He did not say like vessels of earthenware which every one possesses: for by a potter's vessels are meant those which the potter is fashioning on the wheel: now the potter's vessels are of clay, but ours are of harder ware. Speaking beforehand therefore of the remoulding which is wrought by means of baptism he saith, "thou shalt dash them in pieces like vessels of a potter"--He means that He remodels and recasts them. I descend into the ware
260
of baptism, and the fashion of my nature is remoulded, and the fire
of the Spirit recasts it, and it is turned into a harder ware. And that
my words are no empty vaunt hear what Job says, "He hath made us as clay,"(1)
and Paul, "but we have this treasure in earthen vessels."(2) But consider
the strength of the earthen vessel was not shattered. "A day and
a night have I been in the deep." He hath been in the deep, and the earthen
vessel was not dissolved: he suffered shipwreck and the treasure was not
lost; the ship was submerged and yet the freight floated. "But we have
this treasure" he says. What kind of treasure? a supply of the Spirit,
righteousness, sanctification, redemption. Of what nature, tell me? "in
the name of Jesus Christ rise up and walk."(4) "Æneas, Jesus Christ
maketh thee whole"(5) I say unto thee thou evil spirit, go out of him.(6)
12. Hast thou seen a treasure more brilliant than
royal treasures? For what can the pearl of a king do like that which the
words of an Apostle effected? Set crowns innumerable upon dead men, and
they will not be raised: but one word went forth from an Apostle, and it
brought back revoked nature, and restored it to its ancient condition.
"But we have this treasure." O treasure which not only is preserved, but
also preserves the house where it is stored up. Dost thou understand what
I have said? The kings of the earth, and rulers when they have treasures,
prepare large houses, having strong walls, bars, doors, guards, and bolts
in order that the treasure may be preserved: but Christ did the contrary:
He placed the treasure not in a stone vessel but in an earthen one. If
the treasure is great wherefore is the vessel weak? But the reason why
the vessel is weak is not because the treasure is great; for this is not
preserved by the vessel, but itself preserves the vessel. I deposit the
treasure: who is able henceforth to steal it? The devil has come, the world
has come, multitudes have come, and yet they have not stolen the treasure:
the vessel has been scourged, yet the treasure was not betrayed; it has
been drowned in the sea, yet the treasure was not shipwrecked: it has died
yet the treasure survives. He gave therefore the earnest of the Spirit.
Where are they who blaspheme the Spirit's majesty? Give ye heed. "He that
establisheth us with you in Christ is God who also hath given the earnest
of the Spirit."(7) You all know that the earnest is a small part of the
whole; let me tell you how. Some one goes to buy a house at a great price;
;and he says "give me an earnest that I may have confidence: or one goes
to take a wife for himself, he arranges about dowry and property, and he
says "give me an earnest." Observe: in the purchase of a slave and in all
covenants there is an earnest. Since then Christ made a covenant with us
(for He was about to take me as a bride) he also assigned a dowry to me
not of money, but of blood. But this dowry which He assigns is the bestowal
of good things "such as eye hath not seen, and ear hath not heard, neither
hath entered into the heart of man."(8) He assigned them for the dowry:--immortality,
praise with the angels, release from death, freedom from sin, the inheritance
of a kingdom (so great are his riches), righteousness, sanctification,
deliverance from present evils, discovery of future blessings. Great was
my dowry. Now attend carefully: mark what He does. He came to take the
harlot, for so I call her, unclean as she was, that thou mightest understand
the love of the bridegroom. He came; He took me: He assigns me a dowry:
He saith "I give thee my wealth." How? "Hast thou lost," He saith, "paradise?"
take it back. Hast thou lost thy beauty? take it back; take all these things.
But yet the dowry was not given to me here.
13. Observe, this is the reason why He speaks beforehand
with reference to this dowry; He warranted to me in the dowry the resurrection
of the body,--immortality. For immortality does not always follow resurrection,
but the two are distinct. For many have risen, and been again laid low,
like Lazarus and the bodies of the saints.(9) But in this case it is not
so, but the promise is of resurrection, immortality, a place in the joyful
company of angels, the meeting of the Son of Man in the clouds, and the
fulfilment of the saying "so shall we ever be with the Lord,"(10) the release
from death, the freedom from sin, the complete overthrow of destruction.
Of what kind is that? "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard neither have entered
into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that
love Him." Dost thou give me good things which I know not? He saith "yea;
only be espoused to me here, love me in this world." "Wherefore dost thou
not give me the dowry here? "It will be given when thou hast come to my
Father, when thou hast entered the royal palace. Didst thou come to me!
261
nay I came to thee. I came not that thou shouldst abide here but that
I might take thee and return. Seek not the dowry here: all depends on hope,
and faith. "And dost thou give me nothing in this world?" He answers "Receive
an earnest that thou mayest trust me concerning that which is to come:
receive pledges and betrothal gifts." Therefore Paul saith "I have espoused
you."(1) As gifts of betrothal God has given us present blessings: they
are an earnest of the future; but the full dowry abides in the other world.
How so? I will tell you. Here I grow old, there I grow not old; here I
die, there I die not, here I sorrow, there I sorrow not; here is poverty,
and disease, and intrigue, there nothing of that kind exits: here is darkness
and light, there is light alone: here is intrigue, there is liberty; here
is disease, there is health; here is life which has an end, there is life
which hath no end; here is sin, there is righteousness, and sin is banished;
here is envy, there nothing of the kind exists "Give me these things" one
says; "Nay! wait in order that thy fellow-servants also may be saved; wait
I say. He who establisheth us and hath given us the earnest "--what kind
of earnest? the Holy Spirit, the supply of the Spirit. Let me speak concerning
the Spirit. He gave the signet ring to the Apostles, saying "take this
and give it to all." Is the ring then portioned out, and yet not divided?
It is so. Let me teach you the meaning of the supply of the Spirit: Peter
received, and Paul also received the Holy Spirit. He went about the world,
he released sinners from their sins, he restored the lame, he clothed the
naked, he raised the dead, he cleansed the lepers, he bridled the devil,
he strangled the demons, he held converse with God, he planted a Church,
levelled temples to the earth, overturned altars, destroyed vice, established
virtue, made angels of men.
14. All these things we were. But "the earnest"
filled the whole world. And when I say the whole I mean all which the sun
shines upon, sea, islands, mountains, valleys, and hills. Paul went hither
and thither, like some winged creature, with one mouth only contending
against the enemy, he the tentmaker, who handled the workman's knife and
sewed skins together: and yet this his craft was no hindrance to his virtue,
but the tentmaker was stronger than demons, the uneloquent man was wiser
than the wise. Whence was this? He received the earnest, he bore the signet
ring and carried it about. All men saw that the King had espoused our nature:
the demon saw it and retreated, he saw the earnest, and trembled and withdrew:
he saw but the Apostle's garments(2) and fled. O the power of the Holy
Spirit. He bestowed authority not on the soul, nor on the body, but even
on raiment; nor on raiment only but even on a shadow. Peter went about
and his shadow put diseases to flight,(3) and expelled demons, and raised
the dead to life. Paul went about the world, cutting away the thorns of
ungodliness, sowing broadcast the seeds of godliness, like an excellent
ploughman handling the ploughshare of doctrine. And to whom did he go?
To Thracians, to Scythians, to Indians, to Maurians to Sardinians, to Goths,
to wild savages, and he changed them all. By what means? By means of "the
earnest." How was he sufficient for these things? By the grace of the Spirit.
Unskilled, ill-clothed, ill-shod he was upheld by Him "who also hath given
the earnest of the Spirit" Therefore he saith "and who is sufficient for
these things?(4) But our sufficiency is of God, who hath made us sufficient
as ministers of the new Testament, not of the letter but of the Spirit."(5)
Behold what the Spirit hath wrought: He found the earth filled with demons
and He has made it heaven. For meditate not on present things but review
the past in your thought. Formerly there was lamentation, there were altars
everywhere, everywhere the smoke and fumes of sacrifice, everywhere unclean
rites and mysteries, and sacrifices, everywhere demons holding their orgies,
everywhere a citadel of the devil, everywhere fornication decked with wreaths
of honour; and Paul stood alone. How did he escape being overwhelmed, or
torn in pieces? How could he open his mouth? He entered the Thebaid,(6)
and made captives of men, He entered the royal palace, and made a disciple
of the king.(7) He entered the hall of judgment, and the judge saith to
him "almost thou persuadest me to become a Christian,"(8) and the judge
became a disciple. He entered the prison, and took the jailor captive.(9)
He visited an island of barbarians, and made a viper the instrument of
his teaching.(10) He visited the Romans, and attracted the senate to his
doctrine. He visited rivers, and desert places in all parts of the world.
There is no land or sea which has not shared in the benefits of his labours;
for God has given human nature the earnest of His signet,
262
and when He gives it He saith: some things I give thee now, and others
I promise. Therefore the prophet saith concerning her "The queen did stand
upon thy right hand in a vesture woven with gold." He does not mean a real
vesture, but virtue. Therefore the Scripture elsewhere saith "How camest
thou in hither not having a wedding garment?" so that here he does not
mean a garment, but fornication, and foul and unclean living. As then foul
raiment signifies sin, so does golden raiment signify virtue. But this
raiment belonged to the king. He Himself bestowed the raiment upon her:
for she was naked, naked and disfigured. "The queen stood on thy right
hand in a vesture woven with gold."(1) He is speaking not of raiment but
of virtue. Observe: the expression itself has great nobility of meaning.
He does not say "in a vesture of gold" but "in a vesture woven with gold."
Listen intelligently. A vesture of gold is one which is gold throughout:
but a vesture woven with gold is one which is partly of gold, partly of
silk. Why then did he say that the bride wore not a vesture of gold, but
one woven with gold? Attend carefully. He means the constitution of the
Church in its varied manifestations. For since we do not all belong to
one condition of life, but one is a virgin, another a widow, a third lives
a life of devotion--so the robe of the Church signifies the constitution
of the Church.
15. Inasmuch then as our Master knew that if He
carved out only one road for us, many must shrink from it, He carved out
divers roads. Thou canst not enter the kingdom it may be by the way of
virginity. Enter it then by the way of single marriage. Canst thou not
enter it by one marriage? Perchance thou mayest by means of a second marriage.
Thou canst not enter by the way of continence: enter then by the way of
almsgiving: or thou canst not enter by the way of almsgiving? then try
the way of fasting. If thou canst not use this way, take that--or if not
that, then take this. Therefore the prophet spoke not of a garment of gold,
but of one woven with gold. It is of silk, or purple, or gold. Thou canst
not be a golden part? then be a silken one. I accept thee, if only thou
art clothed in my raiment. Therefore also Paul saith "If any man builds
upon this foundation, gold, silver, previous stones."(2) Thou canst not
be the precious stone? then be the gold. Thou canst not be the gold? then
be the silver, if only thou art resting upon the foundation. And again
elsewhere, "there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon,
and another glory of the stars."(3) Thou canst not be a sun? then be a
moon. Thou canst not be a moon? then be a star. Thou canst not be a large
star? be content to be a tittle one if only thou art in the Heaven. Thou
canst not be a virgin? then live continently in the married state, only
abiding in the Church. Thou canst not be without possessions? then give
alms, only abiding in the Church, only wearing the proper raiment, only
submitting to the queen.(4) The raiment is woven with gold, it is manifold
in texture. I do not bar the way against thee: for the abundance of virtues
has rendered the dispensation of the king easy in operation. "Clothed in
a vesture woven with gold, manifold in texture." Her vesture is manifold:
unfold, if you please, the deep meaning of the expression here used, and
fix your eyes upon this garment woven with gold. For here indeed some five
celibate, others live in an honourable estate of matrimony being not much
inferior to them: some have married once, others are widows in the flower
of their age. For what purpose is a paradise? and wherefore its variety?
having divers flowers, and trees, and many pearls. There are many stars,
but only one sun: there are many ways of living, but only one paradise;
there are many temples, but only one mother of them all. There is the body,
the eye, the finger. but all these make up but one man. There is the same
distinction between the small, the great, and the less. The virgin hath
need of the married woman; for the virgin also is the product of marriage,
that marriage may not be despised by her. The virgin is the root of marriage:
thus all things have been linked together, the small with the great, and
the great with the small. "The queen did stand on thy right hand clothed
in a vesture wrought with gold, manifold in texture" Then follows "Hearken!
O daughter" The conductor of the bride says that thou art about to go forth
from thy home to the home of the bridegroom who in his essential nature
far surpasses thee. I am the conductor of the bride. "Hearken O daughter"
Did she immediately become the wife? Yea: for here there is nothing corporeal.
For He espoused her as a wife, He loves her as a daughter, He provides
for her as a handmaid, He guards her as a virgin, He fences her round like
a garden, and cherishes her like a member: as a head He provides for her,
as a root he causes her to grow, as a shepherd He feeds her, as a bridegroom
He weds her, as a propitiation He pardons her, as a sheep He is sacrificed,
as a bridegroom He preserves her in beauty, as a
263
husband He provides for her support. Many are the meanings in order
that we may enjoy a part if it be but a small part of the divine economy
of grace. "Hearken O daughter" and behold, and look upon things which are
bridal and yet spiritual. Hearken O daughter. She was at first a daughter
of demons, a daughter of the earth, unworthy of the earth and now she has
become a daughter of the king. And this He wished who loved her. For he
who loves does not investigate character: love does not regard uncomeliness:
on this account indeed is it called love because it oftentimes hath affection
for an uncomely person.(1) Thus also did Christ. He saw one who was uncomely
(for comely I could not call her) and He loved her, and He makes her young,
not having spot or wrinkle. Oh what a bridegroom! adorning with grace the
ungracefulness of his bride! Hearken O daughter! hearken and behold! Two
things He sixth "Hearken" and "Behold," two which depend on thyself, one
on thy eyes, the other on thy hearing. Now since her dowry depended on
hearing(and although some of you have been acute enough to perceive this
already, let them tarry for those who are feebler: I commend those who
have anticipated the truth, and make allowances for those who only follow
in their track) since the dowry then depended on hearing--(and what is
meant by heating? faith: for "faith cometh by hearing" faith as opposed
to fruition, and actual experience) I said before that He divided the dowry
into two, and gave some portion to the bride for an earnest, whilst He
promised others in the future. What did He give her? He gave her forgiveness
of sins, remission of punishment, righteousness, sanctification, redemption,
the body of the Lord, the divine, spiritual Table, the resurrection of
the dead. For all these things the Apostles had. Therefore He gave some
parts and promised others. Of some there was experience and fruition, others
depended upon hope and faith. Now listen. What did He below? Baptism and
the Sacrifice. Of these there is experience. What did He promise? Resurrection,
immortality of the body, union with angels, a place in the joyful company
of archangels, and as a citizen in His kingdom, immaculate life, the good
things "which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard nor have entered into the
heart of man, things which God hath prepared for them that love Him."
16. Understand what is said, lest ye lose it: I
am labouring to enable you to perceive it. The dowry of the bride then
was divided into two portions consisting of things present and things to
come; things seen and things heard, things given and things taken on trust,
things experienced, and things to be enjoyed hereafter; things belonging
to present life, and things to come after the resurrection. The former
things you see, the latter you hear. Observe then what He says to her that
you may not suppose that she received the former things only, though they
be great and ineffable, and surpassing all understanding. "Hearken O daughter
and behold;" hear the latter things and behold the former that thou mayest
not say "am I again to depend on hope, again on faith, again on the future?"
See now: I give some things, and I promise others: the latter indeed depend
on hope, but do thou receive the others as pledges, as an earnest, as a
proof of the remainder. I promise thee a kingdom: and let present things
be the ground of thy trust, thy trust in me. Dost thou promise me a kingdom?
Yea. I have given thee the greater part, even the Lord of the kingdom,
for "he who spared not his own son, but gave him up for us all, how shall
He not with Him also freely give us all things?"(2) Dost thou give me the
resurrection of the body? Yea; I have given thee the greater part. What
is the nature of it? Release from sins. How is that the greater part? Because
sin brought forth death. I have destroyed the parent, and shall I not destroy
the offspring? I have dried up the root, and shall I not destroy the produce.
Hearken O daughter and behold." What am I to behold? Dead men raised to
life, lepers cleansed, the sea restrained, the paralytic braced up into
vigour, paradise opened, loaves poured forth in abundance, sins remitted,
the lame man leaping, the robber made a citizen of paradise, the publican
turned into an evangelist, the harlot become more modest than the maid.
Hear and behold. Hear of the former things and behold these. Accept from
present things a proof of the others; concerning those I have given thee
pledges, things which are better than they are." "What is the meaning of
this thy saying?" These things are mine. "Hearken O daughter and behold."
These things are my dower to thee. And what doth the bride contribute?
Let us see. What I pray thee dost thou bring that thou mayest not be portionless?
What can I, she answers, bring to thee from heathen altars, and the steam
of sacrifices and from devils? What have I to contribute? what? sayest
thou? Thy will and thy faith. "Hearken O daughter and behold." And what
wilt thou have me do? "Forget thy own
264
people." What kind of people? the devils the idols, the sacrificial
smoke, and steam and blood. "Forget thy own people, and thy father's house."
Leave thy father and come after me. I left my Father, and came to thee,
and wilt thou not leave thy father? But when the word leave is used in
reference to the Son do not understand by it an actual leaving. What He
means is "I condescended, I accommodated myself to thee, I assumed human
flesh." This is the duty of the bridegroom, and of the bride, that thou
shouldest abandon thy parents, and that we should be wedded to one another.
"Hearken O daughter and behold, and forget thy own people, and thy father's
house." And what dost thou give me if I do forget them? "and the king shall
desire thy beauty." Thou hast the Lord for thy, lover. If thou hast Him
for thy lover, thou hast also the things which are his. I trust ye may
be able to understand what is said: for the thought is a subtle one, and
I wish to stop the mouth of the Jews.
Now exert your minds I pray: for whether one hears,
or forbears to hear I shall dig and till the soil. "Hearken O daughter,
and behold, forget also thy own people, and thy fathers house, and the
king shah desire thy beauty." By beauty in this passage the Jew understands
sensible beauty; not spiritual but corporeal.
17. Attend, and let us learn what corporeal, and
what spiritual beauty are. There is soul and body: they are two substances:
there is a beauty of body, and there is a beauty of soul. What is beauty
of body? an extended eyebrow, a merry glance, a blushing cheek, ruddy lips,
a straight neck, long wavy hair tapering fingers, upright stature, a fair
blooming complexion. Does this bodily beauty come from nature, or from
choice? Confessedly it comes from nature. Attend that thou mayest learn
the conception of philosophers. This beauty whether of the countenance,
of the eye, of the hair, of the brow, does it come from nature, or from
choice? It is obvious that it comes from nature. For the ungraceful woman,
even if she cultivate beauty in countless ways, cannot become graceful
in body: for natural conditions are fixed, and confined by limits which
they cannot pass over. Therefore the beautiful woman is always beautiful,
even if she has no taste for beauty: and the ungraceful cannot make herself
graceful, nor the graceful ungraceful. Wherefore? because these things
come from nature. Well! thou hast seen corporeal beauty. Now let us turn
inwards to the soul: let the handmaid approach the mistress! let us turn
I say to the soul. Look upon that beauty, or rather listen to it: for thou
canst not see it since it is invisible--Listen to that beauty. What then
is beauty of soul? Temperance, mildness, almsgiving, love, brotherly kindness,
tender affection, obedience to God, the fulfilment of the law, righteousness,
contrition of heart. These things are the beauty of the soul. These things
then are not the results of nature, but of moral disposition. And he who
does not possess these things is able to receive them, and he who has them,
if he becomes careless, loses them. For as in the case of the body I was
saying that she who is ungraceful cannot become graceful; so in the case
of the soul I say the contrary that the graceless soul can become full
of grace. For what was more graceless than the soul of Paul when he was
a blashphemer and insulter: what more full of grace when he said "I have
fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."(1)
What was more graceless than the soul of the robber? what more full of
grace when he heard the words "Verily I say unto thee to-day shalt thou
be with me in paradise?"(2) What was more graceless than the publican when
he practised extortion? but what more full of grace when he declared his
resolution.(3) Seest thou that thou canst not alter grace of body, for
it is the result not of moral disposition, but of nature. But grace of
soul is supplied out of our own moral choice. Thou hast now received the
definition. Of what kind are they? that the beauty of the soul proceeds
from obedience to God. For if the graceless soul obeys God it puts off
its ungracefulness, and becomes full of grace. "Saul! Saul!" it was said,
"why persecutest thou me?" and he replied "and who art Thou Lord?" "I am
Jesus."(4) And he obeyed, and his obedience made the graceless soul full
of grace. Again, He saith to the publican "come follow me"(5) and the publican
rose up and became an apostle: and the graceless soul became full of grace.
Whence? by obedience. Again He saith to the fishermen "Come ye after me
and I will make you to become fishers of men:"(6) and by their obedience
their minds became full of grace. Let us see then what kind of beauty He
is speaking of here. "Hearken O daughter and behold, and forget thy own
people and thy fathers house, and the king shall desire thy beauty" What
kind of beauty will he desire? the spiritual kind. How so? because she
is to "forget" He saith "hearken and forget." These are acts of moral choice.
"Hearken!" he said: "an ungraceful one hears and her ungracefulness being
that of the
265
body is not removed. To the sinful woman He has said "Hearken," and if she will obey she sees what manner of beauty is bestowed upon her. Since then the ungracefulness of the bride was not physical, but moral (for she did not obey God but transgressed) therefore he leads her to another remedy. Thou didst become ungraceful then, not by nature, but by moral choice: and thou didst become full of grace by obedience. "Hearken O daughter and behold and forget thy own people, and thy father's house, and the king shall desire thy beauty." Then that thou mayest learn that he does not mean anything visible to sense, when thou hearest the word beauty, think not of eye, or nose, or mouth, or neck, but of piety, faith, love, things which are within--"for all the glory of the king's daughter is from within." Now for all these things let us offer thanks to God, the giver, for to Him alone belongeth glory, honour, might, for ever and ever. Amen.
A TREATISE
TO PROVE THAT NO ONE CAN HARM THE MAN WHO DOES NOT INJURE HIMSELF.
1. I KNOW well that to coarse-minded persons, who
are greedy in the pursuit of present things, and are nailed to earth, and
enslaved to physical pleasure, and have no strong hold upon spiritual ideas,
this treatise will be of a strange and paradoxical kind: and they will
laugh immoderately, and condemn me for uttering incredible things from
the very outset of my theme. Nevertheless, I shall not on this account
desist from my promise, but for this very reason shall proceed with great
earnestness to the proof of what I have undertaken. For if those who take
that view of my subject will please not to make a clamour and disturbance,
but wait to the end of my discourse, I am sure that they will take my side,
and condemn themselves, finding that they have been deceived hitherto,
and will make a recantation, and apology, and crave pardon for the mistaken
opinion which they held concerning these matters, and will express great
gratitude to me, as patients do to physicians, when they have been relieved
from the disorders which lay seige to their body. For do not tell me of
the judgment which is prevailing in your mind at the present time,
but wait to hear the contention of my arguments and then you will be able
to record an impartial verdict without being hindered by ignorance from
forming a true judgment. For even judges in secular causes, if they see
the first orator pouring forth a mighty torrent of words and overwhelming
everything with his speech do not venture to record their decision without
having patiently listened to the other speaker who is opposed to him; and
even if the remarks of the first speaker seem to be just to an unlimited
extent, they reserve an unprejudiced hearing for the second. In fact the
special merit of judges consists in ascertaining with all possible accuracy
what each side has to allege and then bringing forward their own judgment.
Now in the place of an orator we have the common
assumption of mankind which in the course of ages has taken deep root in
the minds of the multitude, and declaims to the following effect throughout
the world. "All things" it says "have been turned upside down, the human
race is full of much confusion and many are they who every day are being
wronged, insulted, subjected to violence and injury, the weak by the strong,
the poor by the rich: and as it is impossible to number the waves of the
sea, so is it impossible to reckon the multitude of those who are the victims
of intrigue, insult, and suffering; and neither the correction of law,
nor the fear of being brought to trial, nor anything else can arrest this
pestilence and disorder, but the evil is increasing every day, and the
groans, and lamentations, and weeping of the sufferers are universal; and
the judges who are appointed to reform such evils, themselves intensify
the tempest, and inflame the disorder, and hence many of the more senseless
and despicable kind, seized with a new kind of frenzy, accuse the providence
of God, when they see the forbearing man often violently seized, racked,
and oppressed, and the audacious, impetous, low and low-born man waxing
rich, and invested with authority, and becoming formidable to many, and
inflicting countless troubles upon the more moderate, and this perpetrated
both in town and country,
272
and desert, on sea and land. This discourse of ours of necessity comes
in by way of direct opposition to what has been alleged, maintaining a
contention which is new, as I said at the beginning, and contrary to opinion,
yet useful and true, and profitable to those who will give heed to it and
be persuaded by it; for what I undertake is to prove (only make no commotion)
that no one of those who are wronged is wronged by another, but experiences
this injury at his own hands.
2. But in order to make my argument plainer, let
us first of all enquire what injustice is, and of what kind of things the
material of it is wont to be composed; also what human virtue is, and what
it is which ruins it; and further what it is which seems to ruin it but
really does not. For instance (for I must complete my argument by means
of examples) each thing is subject to one evil which ruins it; iron to
rust, wool to moth, flocks of sheep to wolves. The virtue of wine is injured
when it ferments and turns sour: of honey when it loses its natural sweetness,
and is reduced to a bitter juice. Ears of corn are ruined by mildew and
droughts and the fruit, and leaves, and branches of vines by the mischievous
host of locusts, other trees by the caterpillar, and irrational creatures
by diseases of various kinds: and not to lengthen the list by going through
all possible examples, our own flesh is subject to fevers, and palsies,
and a crowd of other maladies. As then each one of these things is liable
to that which ruins its virtue, let us now consider what it is which injures
the human race, and what it is which ruins the virtue of a human being.
Most men think that there are divers things which have this effect; for
I must mention the erroneous opinions on the subject, and, after confuting
them, proceed to exhibit that which really does ruin our virtue: and to
demonstrate clearly that no one could inflict this injury or bring this
ruin upon us unless we betrayed ourselves. The multitude then having erroneous
opinions imagine that there are many different things which ruin our virtue:
some say it is poverty, others bodily disease, others loss of property,
others calumny, others death and they are perpetually bewailing and lamenting
these things: and whilst they are commiserating the sufferers and shedding
tears they excitedly exclaim to one another "What a calamity has befallen
such and such a man! he has been deprived of all his fortune at a blow."
Of another again one will say: "such and such a man has been attacked by
severe sickness and is despaired of by the physicians in attendance." Some
bewail and lament the inmates of the prison, some those who have been expelled
from their country n and transported to the land of exile, others
those who have been deprived of their freedom, others those who have been
seized and made captives by enemies, others those who have been drowned,
or burnt, or buried by the fall of a house, but no one mourns those who
are living in wickedness: on the contrary, which is worse than all, they
often congratulate them, a practice which is the cause of all manner of
evils. Come then (only, as I exhorted you at the outset, do not make a
commotion), let me prove that none of the things which have been mentioned
injure the man who lives soberly, nor can ruin his virtue. For tell me
if a man has lost his all either at the hands of calumniators or of robbers,
or has been stripped of his goods by knavish servants, what harm has the
loss done to the virtue of the man?
But if it seems well let me rather indicate in the
first place what is the virtue of a man, beginning by dealing with the
subject in the case of existences of another kind so as to make it more
intelligible and plain to the majority of readers.
3. What then is the virtue of a horse? is it to
have a bridle studded with gold and girths to match, and a band of silken
threads to fasten the housing, and clothes wrought in divers colours and
gold tissue, and head gear studded with jewels, and locks of hair plaited
with gold cord? or is it to be swift and strong in its legs, and even in
its paces, and to have hoofs suitable to a well bred horse, and courage
fitted for long journies and warfare, and to be able to behave with calmness
in the battle field, and if a rout takes place to save its rider? Is it
not manifest that these are the things which constitute the virtue of the
horse, not the others? Again, what should you say was the virtue of asses
and mules? is it not the power of carrying burdens with contentment, and
accomplishing journies with ease, and having hoofs like rock? Shall we
say that their outside trappings contribute anything to their own proper
virtue? By no means. And what kind of vine shall we admire? one which abounds
in leaves and branches, or one which is laden with fruit? or I what kind
of virtue do we predicate of an olive? is it to have large boughs, and
great luxuriance of leaves, or to exhibit an abundance of its proper fruit
dispersed over all parts of the tree? Well, let us act in the same way
in the case of human beings also: let us determine what is the virtue of
man, and let us regard that alone as an injury, which is destructive to
it. What then is the
273
virtue of man? not riches that thou shouldest fear poverty: nor health
of body that thou shouldest dread sickness, nor the opinion of the public,
that thou shouldest view an evil reputation with alarm, nor life simply
for its own sake, that death should be terrible to thee: nor liberty that
thou shouldest avoid servitude: but carefulness in holding true doctrine,
and rectitude in life. Of these things not even the devil himself will
be able to rob a man, if he who possesses them guards them with the needful
carefulness: and that most malicious and ferocious demon is aware of this.
For this cause also he robbed Job of his substance, not to make him poor,
but that he might force him into uttering some blasphemous speech; and
he tortured his body, not to subject him to infirmity, but to upset the
virtue of his soul. But nevertheless when he had set all his devices in
motion, and turned him from a rich man into a poor one (that calamity which
seems to us the most terrible of all), and had made him childless who was
once surrounded by many children, and had scarified his whole body more
cruelly than the executioners do in the public tribunals (for their nails
do not lacerate the sides of those who fall into their hands so severely
as the gnawing of the worms lacerated his body), and when he had fastened
a bad reputation upon him (for Job's friends who were present with him
said "thou hast not received the chastisement which thy sins deserve,"
and directed many words of accusation against him), and after he had not
merely expelled him from city and home and transferred him to another city,
but had actually made the dunghill serve as his home and city; after all
this, he not only did him no damage but rendered him more glorious by the
designs which he formed against him. And he not only failed to rob him
of any of his possessions although he had robbed him of so many things,
but he even increased the wealth of his virtue. For after these things
he enjoyed greater confidence inasmuch as he had contended in a more severe
contest. Now if he who underwent such sufferings, and this not at the hand
of man, but at the hand of the devil who is more wicked than all men, sustained
no injury, which of those persons who say such and such a man injured and
damaged me will have any defence to make in future? For if the devil who
is full of such great malice, after having set all his instruments in motion,
and discharged all his weapons, and poured out all the evils incident to
man, in a superlative degree upon the family and the person of that righteous
man nevertheless did him no injury, but as I was saying rather profited
him: how shall certain be able to accuse such and such a man alleging that
they have suffered injury at their hands, not at their own?
4. What then? some one will say, did he not inflict
injury on Adam, and upset him, and cast him out of paradise? No: he did
it not, but the cause was the listlessness of him who was injured, and
his want of temperance and vigilance. For he who applied such powerful
and manifold devices and yet was not able to subdue Job, how could he by
inferior means have mastered Adam, had not Adam betrayed himself through
his own listlessness? What then? Has not he been injured who has been exposed
to slander, and suffered confiscation of his property, having been deprived
of all his goods, and is thrown out of his patrimony, and struggles with
extreme poverty? No! he has not been injured, but has even profited, if
he be sober. For, tell me, what harm did this do the apostles? Were they
not continually struggling with hunger, and thirst and nakedness? And this
was the very reason why they were so illustrious, and distinguished, and
won for themselves much help from God. Again what harm was done to Lazarus
by his disease, and sores, and poverty and dearth of protectors? Were they
not the reasons why garlands of victory were more abundantly woven for
him? Or what harm was done to Joseph by his getting evil reported of, both
in his own land, and in the land of strangers? for he was supposed to be
both an adulterer and fornicator: or what harm did servitude do him or
expatriation? Is it not specially on account of these things that we regard
him with admiration and astonishment? And why do I speak of removal into
a foreign land, and poverty, and evil report, and bondage? For what
harm did death itself inflict on Abel, although it was a violent and untimely
death, and perpetrated by a brother's hand? Is not this the reason why
his praise is sounded throughout the whole world? Seest thou how the discourse
has demonstrated even more than it promised? For not only has it disclosed
the fact that no one is injured by anybody, but also that they who take
heed to themselves derive the greater gain (from such assaults). What is
the purpose then it will be said of penalties and punishments? What is
the purpose of hell? What is the purpose of such great threatenings, if
no one is either injured or injures? What is it thou sayest? Why dost thou
confuse the argument? For I did not say that no one injures, but that no
one is injured. And how is it possible, you will say, for no one to be
injured when many
274
are committing injury? In the way which I indicated just now. For Joseph's
brethren did indeed injure him, yet he himself was not injured: and Cain
laid snares for Abel, yet he himself was riot ensnared. This is the reason
why there are penalties and punishments. For God does not abolish penalties
on account of the virtue of those who suffer; but he ordains punishments
on account of the malice of those who do wickedly. For although they who
are evil entreated become more illustrious in consequence of the designs
formed against them, this is not due to the intention of those who plan
the designs, but to the courage of those who are the victims of them. Wherefore
for the latter the rewards of philosophy are made ready and prepared, for
the former the penalties of wickedness. Hast thou been deprived of thy
money? Read the word "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall
I return thither."(1) And add to this the apostolic saying "for we brought
nothing into this world; it is certain we can carry nothing out."(2) Art
thou evil reported of, and have some men loaded thee with countless abuse?
Remember that passage where it is said "Woe unto you when all men shall
speak well of you"(3) and "rejoice ye and leap for joy when they shall
cast upon you an evil name."(4) Hast thou been transported into the land
of exile? Consider that thou hast not here a fatherland, but that if thou
wilt be wise thou art bidden to regard the whole world as a strange country.
Or hast thou been given over to a sore disease? quote the apostolic saying
"the more our outward man decayeth, so much the more is the inward man
renewed day by day."(5) Has any one suffered a violent death? consider
the case of John, his head cut off in prison, carried in a charger, and
made the reward of a harlot's dancing. Consider the recompense which is
derived from these things: for all these sufferings when they are unjustly
inflicted by any one on another, expiate sins, and work righteousness.
So great is the advantage of them in the case of those who bear them bravely.
5. When then neither loss of money, nor slander,
nor railing, nor banishment, nor diseases, nor tortures, nor that which
seems more formidable than all, namely death, harms those who suffer them,
but rather adds to their profit, whence can you prove to me that any one
is injured when he is not injured at all from any of these things? For
I will endeavour to prove the reverse, showing that they who are most injured
and insulted, and suffer the most incurable evils are the persons who do
these things. For what could be more miserable than the condition of Cain,
who dealt with his brother in this fashion? what more pitiable than that
of Phillip's wife who beheaded John? or the brethren of Joseph who sold
him away, and transported him into the land of exile? or the devil who
tortured Job with such great calamities? For not only on account of his
other iniquities, but at the same time also for this assault he will pay
no trifling penalty. Dost thou see how here the argument has proved even
more than was proposed, shewing that those who are insulted not only sustain
no harm from these assaults, but that the whole mischief recoils on the
head of those who contrive them? For since neither wealth nor freedom,
nor life in our native land nor the other things which I have mentioned,
but only right actions of the soul, constitute the virtue of man, naturally
when the harm is directed against these things, human virtue itself is
no wise harmed. What then? supposing some one does harm the moral condition
of the soul? Even then if a man suffers damage, the damage does not come
from another but proceeds from within, and from the man himself. "How so,"
do you say? When any one having been beaten by another, or deprived of
his goods, or having endured some other grievous insult, utters a blasphemous
speech, he certainly sustains a damage thereby, and a very great one, nevertheless
it does not proceed from him who has inflicted the insult, but from his
own littleness of soul. For what I said before I will now repeat, no man
if he be infinitely wicked could attack any one more wickedly or more bitterly
than that revengeful demon who is implacably hostile to us, the devil:
but yet this cruel demon had not power to upset or overthrow him who lived
before the law, and before the time of grace, although he discharged so
many and such bitter weapons against him from all quarters. Such is the
force of nobility of soul. And what shall I say of Paul? Did he not suffer
so many distresses that even to make a list of them is no easy matter?
He was put in prison, loaded with chains, dragged hither and hither, scourged
by the Jews, stoned, lacerated on the back not only by thongs, but also
by rods, he was immersed in the sea, oftentimes beset by robbers, involved
in strife with his own countrymen, continually assailed both by foes and
by acquaintance, subjected to countless intrigues, struggling with hunger
and
275
nakedness, undergoing other frequent and lasting mischances and afflictions:
and why need I mention the greater part of them? he was dying every day:
but yet, although subjected to so many and such grievous sufferings, he
not only uttered no blasphemous word, but rejoiced over these things
and gloried in them: and one time he says "I rejoice in my sufferings,"(1)
and then again "not only this but we also glory in afflictions."(2) If
then he rejoiced and gloried when suffering such great troubles what excuse
will you have, and what defence will you make if you blaspheme when you
do not undergo the smallest fraction of them.
6. But I am injured in other ways, one will say,
and even if I do not blaspheme, yet when I am robbed of my money I am disabled
from giving alms. This is a mere pretext and pretence. For if you grieve
on this account know certainly that poverty is no bar to almsgiving. For
even if you are infinitely poor you are not poorer than the woman who possessed
only a handful of meal,(3) and the one who had only two mites,(4) each
of whom having spent all her substance upon those who were in need was
an object of surpassing admiration: and such great poverty was no hindrance
to such great lovingkindness, but the alms bestowed from the two mites
was so abundant and generous as to eclipse all who had riches, and in wealth
of intention and superabundance of zeal to surpass those who cast in much
coin. Wherefore even in this matter thou art not injured but rather benefitted,
receiving by means of a small contribution rewards more glorious than they
who put down large sums. But since, if I were to say these things for ever,
sensuous characters which delight to grovel in worldly things, and revel
in present things would not readily endure parting from the fading flowers
(for such are the pleasant things of this life) or letting go its shadows:
but the better sort of men indeed cling to both the one and the other,
while the more pitiable and abject cling more strongly to the former than
to the latter, come let us s strip off the pleasant and showy masks which
hide the base and ugly countenance of these things, and let us expose the
foul deformity of the harlot. For such is the character of a life of this
kind which is devoted to luxury, and wealth and power: it is foul and ugly
and full of much abomination, disagreeable and burdensome, and charged
with bitterness. For this indeed is the special feature in this life which
deprives those who are captivated by it of every excuse, that although
it is the aim of their longings and endeavours, yet is it filled with much
annoyance and bitterness, and teems with innumerable evils, dangers, bloodshed,
precipices, crags, murders, fears and tremblings, envy and ill-will, and
intrigue, perpetual anxiety and care, and derives no profit, and produces
no fruit from these great evils save punishment and revenge, and incessant
torment. But although this is its character it seems to be to most men
an object of ambition, and eager contention, which is a sign of the folly
of those who are captivated by it, not of the blessedness of the thing
itself. Little children indeed are eager and excited about toys and cannot
take notice of the things which become full grown men. There is an excuse
for them on account of their immaturity: but these others are debarred
from the right of defence, because, although of full age they are childish
in disposition, and more foolish than children in their manner of life.
Now tell me why is wealth an object of ambition?
For it is necessary to start from this point, because to the majority of
those who are afflicted with this grievous malady it seems to be more precious
than health and life, and public reputation, and good opinion, and country,
and household, and friends, and kindred and everything else. Moreover the
flame has ascended to the very clouds: and this fierce heat has taken possession
of land and sea. Nor is there any one to quench this fire: but all people
are engaged in stirring it up, both those who have been already caught
by it, and those who have not yet been caught, in order that they may be
captured. And you may see every one, husband and wife, household slave,
and freeman, rich and poor, each according to his ability carrying loads
which supply much fuel to this fire by day and night: loads not of wood
or faggots (for the fire is not of that kind), but loads of souls and bodies,
of unrighteousness and iniquity. For such is the material of which a fire
of this kind is wont to be kindled. For those who have riches place no
limit anywhere to this monstrous passion, even if they compass the whole
world: and the poor press on to get in advance of them, and a kind of incurable
craze, and unrestrainable frenzy and irremediable disease possesses the
souls of all. And this affection has conquered every other kind and thrust
it away expelling it from the soul: neither friends nor kindred are taken
into account: and why do I speak of friends and kindred? not even wife
and children are
276
regarded, and what can be dearer to man than these? but all things are
dashed to the ground and trampled underfoot, when this savage and inhuman
mistress has laid hold of the souls of all who are taken captive by her.
For as an inhuman mistress, and harsh tyrant, and savage barbarian, and
public and expensive prostitute she debases and exhausts and punishes with
innumerable dangers and torments those who have chosen to be in bondage
to her; and yet although she is terrible and harsh, and fierce and cruel,
and has the face of a barbarian, or rather of a wild beast, fiercer than
a wolf or a lion, she seems to those who have been taken captive by her
gentle and loveable, and sweeter than honey. And although she forges swords
and weapons against them every day, and digs pitfalls and leads them to
precipices and crags and weaves endless snares of punishment for them,
yet is she supposed to make these things objects of ambition to those who
have been made captive, and those who are desiring to be captured. And
just as a sow delights and revels in wallowing in the ditch and mire, and
beetles delight in perpetually crawling over dung; even so they who are
captivated by the love of money are more miserable than these creatures.
For the abomination is greater in this case, and the mire more offensive:
for they who are addicted to this passion imagine that much pleasure is
derived from it: which does not arise from the nature of the thing, but
of the understanding which is afflicted with such an irrational taste.
And this taste is worse in their case than in that of brutes: for as with
the mire and the dung the cause of pleasure is not in them, but in the
irrational nature of the creatures who plunge into it; even so count it
to be in the case of human beings.
7. And how might we cure those who are thus disposed?
It would be possible if they would open their ears to us, and unfold their
heart, and receive our words. For it is impossible to turn and divert the
irrational animals from their unclean habit; for they are destitute of
reason: but this the gentlest of all tribes, honoured by reason and speech,
I mean human nature, might, if it chose, readily and easily be released
from the mire and the stench, and the dung hill and its abomination. For
wherefore, O man, do riches seem to thee worthy such diligent pursuit?
Is it on account of the pleasure which no doubt is derived from the table?
or on account of the honour and the escort of those who pay court to thee,
because of thy wealth? is it because thou art able to defend thyself against
those who annoy thee, and to be an object of fear to all? For yon cannot
name any other reasons, save pleasure and flattery, and fear, and the power
of taking revenge; for wealth is not generally wont to make any one wiser,
or more self-controlled, or more gentle, or more intelligent, or kind,
or benevolent, or superior to anger, or gluttony or pleasure: it does not
train any one to be moderate, or teach him how to be humble, nor introduce
and implant any other piece of virtue in the soul. Neither could you say
for which of these things it deserves to be so diligently sought and desired.
For not only is it ignorant how to plant and cultivate any good thing,
but even if it finds a store of them it mars and stunts and blights them;
and some of them it even uproots, and introduces their opposites, unmeasured
licentiousness, unseasonable wrath, unrighteous anger, pride, arrogance,
foolishness. But let me not speak of these; for they who have been seized
by this malady will not endure to hear about virtue and vice, being entirely
abandoned to pleasure and therefore enslaved to it. Come then let us forego
for the time being the consideration of these points, and let us bring
forward the others which remain, and see whether wealth has any pleasure,
or any honour: for in my eyes the case is quite the reverse. And first
of all, if you please, let us investigate the meals of rich and poor, and
ask the guests which they are who enjoy the purest and most genuine pleasure;
is it they who recline for a full day on couches, and join breakfast and
dinner together, and distend their stomach, and blunt their senses, and
sink the vessel by an overladen cargo of food, and waterlog the ship, and
drench it as in some shipwreck of the body, and devise fetters, and manacles,
and gags, and bind their whole body with the band of drunkenness and surfeit
more grievous than an iron chain, and enjoy no sound pure sleep undisturbed
by frightful dreams, and are more miserable than madmen and introduce a
kind of self-imposed demon into the soul and display themselves as a laughing
stock to the gaze of their servants, or rather to the kinder sort amongst
them as a tragical spectacle eliciting tears, and cannot recognize any
of those who are present, and are incapable of speaking or hearing but
have to be carried away from their couches to their bed;--or is it they
who are sober and vigilant, and limit their eating by their need, and sail
with a favourable breeze, and find hunger and thirst the best relish in
their food and drink? For nothing is so conducive to enjoyment and health
as to be hungry and thirsty when one attacks the viands, and to identify
satiety with the sim-
277
ple necessity of food, never overstepping the limits of this, nor imposing
a load upon the body too great for its strength.
8. But if you disbelieve my statement study the
physical condition, and the soul of each class. Are not the bodies vigorous
of those who live thus moderately (for do not tell me of that which rarely
happens, although some may be weak from some other circumstance, but form
your judgment from those instances which are of constant occurrence), I
say are they not vigorous, and their senses clear, fulfilling their proper
function with much ease? whereas the bodies of the others are flaccid and
softer than wax, and beset with a crowd of maladies? For gout soon fastens
upon them, and untimely palsy, and premature old age, and headache, and
flatulence, and feebleness of digestion, and loss of appetite, and they
require constant attendance of physicians, and perpetual doseing, and daily
care. Are these things pleasurable? tell me. Who of those that know what
pleasure really is would say so? For pleasure is produced when desire leads
the way, and fruition follows: now if there is fruition, but desire is
nowhere to be found, the conditions of pleasure fail and vanish. On this
account also invalids, although the most charming food is set before them,
partake of it with a feeling of disgust and sense of oppression: because
there is no desire which gives a keen relish to the enjoyment of it. For
it is not the nature of the food, or of the drink, but the appetite of
the eaters which is wont to produce the desire, and is capable of causing
pleasure. Therefore also a certain wise man who had an accurate knowledge
of all that concerned pleasure, and understood how to moralize about these
things said "the fall soul mocketh at honeycombs:"(1) showing that the
conditions of pleasure consist not in the nature of the meal, but in the
disposition of the eaters. Therefore also the prophet recounting the wonders
in Egypt and in the desert mentioned this in connexion with the others
"He satisfied them with honey out of the rock."(2) And yet nowhere does
it appear that honey actually sprang forth for them out of the rock: what
then is the meaning of the expression? Because the people being exhausted
by much toil and long travelling, and distressed by great thirst rushed
to the cool spring, their craving for drink serving as a relish, the writer
wishing to describe the pleasures which they received from those fountains
called the water honey, not meaning that the element was converted into
honey, but that the pleasure received from the water rivalled the sweetness
of honey, inasmuch as those who partook of it rushed to it in their eagerness
to drink.
Since then these things are so and no one can deny
it, however stupid he may be: is it not perfectly plain that pure, undiluted,
and lively pleasure is to be found at the tables of the poor? whereas at
the tables of the rich there is discomfort, and disgust and defilement?
as that wise man has said "even sweet things seem to be a vexation."(3)
9. But riches some one will say procure honour for
those who possess them, and enable them to take vengeance on their enemies
with ease. And is this a reason, pray, why riches seem to you desirable
and worth contending for;--that they nourish the most dangerous passion
in our nature, leading on anger into action, swelling the empty bubbles
of ambition, and stimulating and urging men to arrogance? Why these are
just the very reasons why we ought resolutely to turn our backs upon riches,
because they introduce certain fierce and dangerous wild beasts into our
heart depriving us of the real honour which we might receive from all,
and introducing to deluded men another which is the opposite of this, only
painted over with its colours, and persuading them to fancy that it is
the same, when by nature it is not so, but only seems to be so to the eye.
For as the beauty of courtesans, made up as it is of dyes and pigments,
is destitute of real beauty, yet makes a foul and ugly face appear fair
and beautiful to those who are deluded by it when it is not so in reality:
even so also riches force flattery to look like honour. For I beg you not
to consider the praises which are openly bestowed through fear and fawning:
for these are only tints and pigments; but unfold the conscience of each
of those who flatter you in this fashion, and inside it you will see countless
accusers declaring against you, and loathing and detesting you more than
your bitterest adversaries and foes. And if ever a change of circumstances
should occur which would remove and expose this mask which fear has manufactured,
just as the sun when it emits a hotter ray than usual discloses the real
countenances of those women whom I mentioned, then you will see clearly
that all through the former time you were held in the greatest contempt
by those who paid court to you, and you fancied you were enjoying honour
from those who thoroughly hated you, and in their heart poured infinite
abuse upon you, and longed to see
278
you involved in extreme calamities. For there is nothing like virtue
to produce honour,--honour neither forced nor feigned, nor hidden under
a mask of deceit, but real and genuine, and able to stand the test of hard
times.
10. But do you wish to take vengeance on those who
have annoyed you? This, as I was saying just now, is the very reason why
wealth ought specially to be avoided. For it prepares thee to thrust the
sword against thy. self, and renders thee liable to a heavier account in
the future day of reckoning, and makes thy punishment intolerable. For
revenge is so great an evil that it actually revokes the mercy of God,
and cancels the forgiveness of countless sins which has been already bestowed.
For he who received remission of the debt of ten thousand talents, and
after having obtained so great a boon by merely asking for it then made
a demand of one hundred pence from his fellow servant, a demand, that is,
for satisfaction for his transgression against himself, in his severity
towards his fellow servant recorded his own condemnation; and for this
reason and no other he was delivered to the tormentors, and racked, and
required to pay back the ten thousand talents; and he was not allowed the
benefit of any excuse or defence, but suffered the most extreme penalty,
having been commanded to deposit the whole debt which the lovingkindness
of God had formerly remitted.(1) Is this then the reason, pray, why wealth
is so earnestly pursued by thee, because it so easily conducts thee into
sin of this kind? Nay verily, this is why you ought to abhor it as a foe
and an adversary teeming with countless murders. But poverty, some one
will say, disposes men to be discontented and often also to utter profane
words, and condescend to mean actions. It is not poverty which does this,
but littleness of soul: for Lazarus also was poor, aye! very poor: and
besides poverty he suffered from infirmity, a bitterer trial than any form
of poverty, and one which makes poverty more severely felt; and in addition
to infirmity there was a total absence of protectors, and difficulty in
finding any to supply his wants, which increased the bitterness of poverty
and infirmity. For each of these things is painful in itself, but when
there are none to minister to the sufferer's wants, the suffering becomes
greater, the flame more painful, the distress more bitter, the tempest
fiercer, the billows stronger, the furnace hotter. And if one examines
the case thoroughly there was yet a fourth trial besides these--the unconcern
and luxury of the rich man who dwelt hard by. And if you would find a fifth
thing, serving as fuel to the flame, you will see quite clearly that he
was beset by it. For not only was that rich man living luxuriously, but
twice, and thrice, or rather indeed several times in the day he saw the
poor man: for he had been laid at his gate, being a grievous spectacle
of pitiable distress, and the bare sight of him was sufficient to soften
even a heart of stone: and yet even this did not induce that unmerciful
man to assist this case of poverty: but he had his luxurious table spread,
and goblets wreathed with flowers, and pure wine plentifully poured forth,
and grand armies of cooks, and parasites, and flatterers from early dawn,
and troops of singers, cupbearers, and jesters; and he spent all his time
in devising every species of dissipation, and drunkenness, and surfeiting,
and in revelling in dress and feasting and many other things. But although
he saw that poor man every day distressed by grievous hunger and the bitterest
infirmity, and the oppression of his many sores, and by destitution, and
the ills which result from these things, he never even gave him a thought:
yet the parasites and the flatterers were pampered even beyond their need;
but the poor man, and he so very poor, and encompassed with so many miseries,
was not even vouchsafed the crumbs which fell from that table, although
he greatly desired them: and yet none of these things injured him, he did
not give vent to a bitter word, he did not utter a profane speech; but
like a piece of gold which shines all the more brilliantly when it is purified
by excessive heat, even so he, although oppressed by these sufferings,
was superior to all of them, and to the agitation which in many cases is
produced by them. For if generally speaking poor men, when they see rich
men, are consumed with envy and racked by malicious ill-will, and deem
life not worth living, and this even when they are well supplied with necessary
food, and have persons to minister to their wants; what would the condition
of this poor man have been had he not been very wise and noble hearted,
seeing that he was poor beyond all other poor men, and not only poor. but
also infirm, and without any one to protect or cheer him, and lay in the
midst of the city as if in a remote desert, and wasted away with bitter
hunger, and saw all good things being poured upon the rich man as out of
a fountain, and had not the benefit of any human consolation, but lay exposed
as a perpetual meal for the tongues of the dogs, for he was so enfeebled
and broken down in
279
body that he could not scare them away? Dost thou perceive that he who
does not injure himself suffers no evil? for I will again take up the same
argument.
11. For what harm was done to this hero by his bodily
infirmity? or by the absence of protectors? or by the coming of the dogs?
or the evil proximity of the rich man? or by the great luxury, haughtiness
and arrogance of the latter? Did it enervate him for the contest on behalf
of virtue? Did it ruin his fortitude? Nowhere was he harmed at all, but
that multitude of sufferings, and the cruelty of the rich man, rather increased
his strength, and became the pledge for him of infinite crowns of victory,
a means of adding to his rewards, an augmentation of his recompense,
and a promise of an increased requital. For he was crowned not merely on
account of his poverty, or of his hunger or of his sores, or of the dogs
licking them: but because, having such a neighbour as the rich man, and
being seen by him every day, and perpetually overlooked he endured this
trial bravely and with much fortitude, a trial which added no small flame
but in fact a very strong one to the fire of poverty, and infirmity and
loneliness.
And, tell me,what was the case of the blessed Paul?
for there is nothing to prevent my making mention of him again. Did he
not experience innumerable storms of trial? And in what respect was he
injured by them? Was he not crowned with victory all the more in consequence,--because
he suffered hunger, because he was consumed with cold and nakedness, because
he was often tortured with the scourge, because he was stoned, because
he was cast into the sea? But then some one says he was Paul, and called
by Christ. Yet Judas also was one of the twelve, and he too was called
of Christ; but neither his being of the twelve nor his call profited him,
because he had not a mind disposed to virtue. But Paul although struggling
with hunger, and at a loss to procure necessary food, and daily undergoing
such great sufferings, pursued with great zeal the road which leads to
heaven: whereas Judas although he had been called before him, and enjoyed
the same advantages as he did, and was initiated in the highest form of
Christian life, and partook of the holy table and that most awful of sacred
feasts, and received such grace as to be able to raise the dead, and cleanse
the lepers, and cast out devils, and often heard discourses concerning
poverty, and spent so long a time in the company of Christ Himself, and
was entrusted with the money of the poor, so that his passion might be
soothed thereby (for he was a thief) even then did not become any better,
although he had been favoured with such great condescension. For since
Christ knew that he was covetous, and destined to perish on account of
his love of money he not only did not demand punishment of him for this
at that time, but with a view to softening down his passion he was entrusted
with the money of the poor, that having some means of appeasing his greed
he might be saved from falling into that appalling gulf of sin, checking
the greater evil beforehand by a lesser one.
12. Thus in no case will any one be able to injure
a man who does not choose to injure himself: but if a man is not willing
to be temperate, and to aid himself from his own resources no one will
ever be able to profit him. Therefore also that wonderful history of the
Holy Scriptures, as in some lofty, large, and broad picture, has portrayed
the lives of the men of old time, extending the narrative from Adam to
the coming of Christ: and it exhibits to you both those who are upset,
and those who are crowned with victory in the contest, in order that it
may instruct you by means of all examples that no one will be able to injure
one who is not injured by himself, even if all the world were to kindle
a fierce war against him. For it is not stress of circumstances, nor variation
of seasons, nor insults of men in power, nor intrigues besetting thee like
snow storms, nor a crowd of calamities, nor a promiscuous collection of
all the ills to which mankind is subject, which can disturb even slightly
the man who is brave, and temperate, and watchful; just as on the contrary
the indolent and supine man who is his own betrayer cannot be made better,
even with the aid of innumerable ministrations. This at least was made
manifest to us by the parable of the two men, of whom the one built his
house upon the rock, the other upon the sand:(1) not that we are to think
of sand and rock, or of a building of stone, and a roof, or of rivers,
and rain, and wild winds, beating against the buildings, but we are to
extract virtue and vice as the meaning of these things, and to perceive
from them that no one injures a man who does not injure himself. Therefore
neither the rain although driven furiously along, nor the streams dashing
against it with much vehemence, nor the wild winds beating against it with
a mighty rush, shook the one house in any degree: but it remained undisturbed,
unmoved: that thou mightest understand that no trial can agitate the man
who does not betray himself. But the house of the other man
280
was easily swept away, not on account of the force of the trials (for
in that case the other would have experienced the same fate), but on account
of his own folly; for it did not fall because the wind blew upon it, but
because it was built upon the sand, that is to say upon indolence and iniquity.
For before that tempest beat upon it, it was weak and ready to fall. For
buildings of that kind, even if no one puts any pressure on them, fall
to pieces of themselves, the foundation sinking and giving way in every
direction. And just as cobwebs part asunder, although no strain is put
upon them, but adamant remains unshaken even when it is struck: even so
also they who do not injure themselves become stronger, even if they receive
innumerable blows; but they who betray themselves, even if there is no
one to harass them, fall of themselves, and collapse and perish. For even
thus did Judas perish, not only having been unassailed by any trial of
this kind, but having actually enjoyed the benefit of much assistance.
13. Would you like me to illustrate this argument
in the case of whole nations? What great forethought was bestowed upon
the Jewish nation! was not the whole visible creation arranged with a view
to their service? was not a new and strange method of life introduced amongst
them? For they had not to send down to a market, and so they had the benefit
of things which are sold for money without paying any price for them: neither
did they cleave furrows nor drag a plough, nor harrow the ground, nor east
in seed, nor had they need of rain and wind, and annual seasons, nor sunshine,
nor phases of the moon, nor climate, nor anything of that kind; they prepared
no threshing floor, they threshed no grain, they used no winnowing fan
for separating the grain from the chaff, they turned no mill-stone, they
built no oven, they brought neither wood nor fire into the house, they
needed no baker's art, they handled no spade, they sharpened no sickle,
they required no other art, I mean of weaving or building or supplying
shoes: but the word of God was everything to them. And they had a table
prepared off hand, free of all toil and labour. For such was the nature
of the manna; it was new and fresh, nowhere costing them any trouble, nor
straining them by labour. And their clothes, and shoes, and even their
physical frame forgot their natural infirmity: for l the former did not
wear out in the course of so long a time nor did their feet swell although
they made such long marches. of physicians, and medicine, and all
other concern about that kind of art, there was no mention at all amongst
them; so completely banished was infirmity of every kind: for it is said
"He brought them out with silver and gold; and there was not one feeble
person among their tribes."(1) But like men who had quitted this world,
and were transplanted to another and a better one, even so did they eat
and drink, neither did the sun's ray when it waxed hot smite their heads;
for the cloud parted them from the fiery beam, hovering all round them,
and serving like a portable shelter for the whole body of the people. Neither
at night did they need a torch to disperse the darkness, but they had the
pillar of fire, a source of unspeakable light, supplying two wants, one
by its shining. the other by directing the course of their journey; for
it was not only luminous, but also conducted that countless host along
the wilderness with more certainty than any human guide. And they journeyed
not only upon land but also upon sea as if it had been dry land; and they
made an audacious experiment upon the laws of nature by treading upon that
angry sea, marching through it as if it had been the hard and resisting
surface of a rock; and indeed when they placed their feet upon it the element
became like solid earth, and gently sloping plains and fields; but when
it received their enemies it wrought after the nature of sea; and to the
Israelites indeed it served as a chariot, but to their enemies it became
a grave; conveying the former across with ease, but drowning the latter
with great violence. And the disorderly flood of water displayed the good
order and subordination which marks reasonable and highly intelligent men,
fulfilling the part at one time of a guardian, at another of an executioner,
and exhibiting these opposites together on one day. What shall one say
of the rocks which gave forth streams of water? what of the clouds of birds
which covered the whole face of the earth by the number of their carcases?
what of the wonders in Egypt? what of the marvels in the wilderness? what
of the triumphs and bloodless victories? for they subdued those who opposed
them like men keeping holiday rather than making war. And they vanquished
their own masters without the use of arms; and overcame those who fought
with them after they left Egypt by means of singing and music; and what
they did was a festival rather than a campaign, a religious ceremony rather
than a battle. For all these wonders took place not merely for the purpose
of supplying their need, but also that the people might preserve more accurately
281
the doctrine which Moses inculcated of the knowledge of God; and voices
proclaiming the presence of their Master were uttered on all sides of them.
For the sea loudly declared this, by becoming a road for them to march
upon, and then turning into sea again: and the waters of the Nile uttered
this voice when they were converted into the nature of blood; and the frogs,
and the great army of locusts, and the caterpillar and blight declared
the same thing to all the people; and the wonders in the desert, the manna,
the pillar of fire, the cloud, the quails, and all the other incidents
served them as a book, and writing which could never be effaced, echoing
daily in their memory and resounding in their mind. Nevertheless after
such great and remarkable providence, after all those unspeakable benefits,
after such mighty miracles, after care indescribable, after continual teaching,
after instruction by means of speech, and admonition by means of deeds,
after glorious victories, after extraordinary triumphs, after abundant
supply of food, after the plentiful production of water, after the ineffable
glory with which they were invested in the eyes of the human race, being
ungrateful and senseless they worshipped a calf, and paid reverence to
the head of a bull, even when the memorials of God's benefits in Egypt
were fresh in their minds, and they were still in actual enjoyment of many
more.
14. But the Ninevites, although a barbarous and
foreign people who had never participated in any of these benefits, small
or great, neither words, nor wonders, nor works when they saw a man who
had been saved from shipwreck, who had never associated with them before,
but appeared then for the first time, enter their city and say "yet three
days and Nineveh shall be overthrown,"(1) were so converted and reformed
by the mere sound of these words, and putting away their former wickedness,
advanced in the direction of virtue by the path of repentance, that they
caused the sentence of God to be revoked, and arrested the threatened disturbance
of their city, and averted the heaven-sent wrath, and were delivered from
every kind of evil. "For," we read, "God saw that every man turned from
his evil way, and was converted to the Lord."(2) How turned? I ask. Although
their wickedness was great, their iniquity unspeakable, their moral sores
difficult to heal, which was plainly shown by the prophet when he said
"their wickedness ascended even unto the heaven:" (3) indicating by the
distance of the place the magnitude of their wickedness; nevertheless such
great iniquity which was piled up to such a height as to reach even to
the heaven, all this in the course of three days in a brief moment of time
through the effect of a few words which they heard from the mouth of one
man and he an unknown shipwrecked stranger they so thoroughly abolished,
removed out of sight, and put away, as to have the happiness of hearing
the declaration "God saw that every one turned from his evil way, and He
repented of the evil which God said He would do them." Seest thou that
he who is temperate and watchful not only suffers no injury at the hands
of man, but even turns back Heaven-sent wrath? whereas he who betrays himself
and harms himself by his own doing, even if he receives countess benefits,
reaps no great advantage. So, at least, the Jews were not profited by those
great miracles, nor on the other hand were the Ninevites harmed by having
no share in them; but inasmuch as they were inwardly well-disposed, having
laid hold of a slight opportunity they became better, barbarians and foreigners
though they were, ignorant of all divine revelation, and dwelling at a
distance from Palestine.
15. Again, I ask, was the virtue of the "three children"
corrupted by the troubles which beset them? Whilst they were still young,
mere youths, of immature age, did they not undergo that grievous affliction
of i captivity? had they not to make a long journey from home, and when
they had arrived in the foreign country were they not cut off from fatherland
and home and temple, and altar and sacrifices, and offerings, and drink
offerings, and even the singing of psalms? For not only were they debarred
from their home, but as a consequence from many forms of worship also.
Were they not given up into the hands of barbarians, wolves rather than
men? and, most painful calamity of all, when they had been banished into
so distant and barbarous a country, and were suffering such a grievous
captivity were they not without teacher, without prophets, without ruler?
"for," it is written, "there is no ruler, nor prophet, nor governor, nor
place for offering before Thee and finding mercy."(4) Yea moreover they
were cast into the royal palace, as upon some cliff and crag, and a sea
full of rocks and reefs, being compelled to sail over that angry sea without
a pilot or signal man, or crew, or sails; and they were cooped up in the
royal court as in a prison. For inasmuch as they knew spiritual wisdom,
and were superior to worldly things, and despised all
282
human pride and made the wings of their soul soar upwards, they counted
their sojourn there as an aggravation of their trouble. For had they been
outside the court, and dwelling in a private house they would have enjoyed
more independence: but having been cast into that prison (for they deemed
the splendour of the palace no better than a prison, no safer than a place
of rocks and crags) they were straightway subjected to cruel embarrassment.
For the king commanded them to be partakers of his own table, a luxurious,
unclean and profane table, a thing which was forbidden them, and seemed
more terrible than death; and they were lonely men hemmed in like lambs
amongst so many wolves. And they were constrained to choose between being
consumed by famine or rather led off to execution, and tasting of forbidden
meats. What then did these youths do, forlorn as they were, captives, strangers,
slaves of those who commanded these things. They did not consider that
this strait or the absolute power of him who possessed the state sufficed
to justify their compliance; but they employed every device and expedient
to enable them to avoid the sin, although they were abandoned on every
side. For they could not influence men by money: how should they, being
captives? nor by friendship and social intercourse? how should they being
strangers? nor could they get the better of them by any exertion of power:
how was it possible being slaves? nor matter them by force of numbers:
how could they being only three? Therefore they approached the eunuch who
possessed the necessary authority, and persuaded him by their arguments.
For when they saw him fearful and trembling, and in an agony of alarm concerning
his own safety, and the dread of death which agitated his soul was intolerable:
"for I fear" said he "my lord the king, lest he should see your countenances
sadder than the children which are of your sort and so shall ye endanger
my head to the king," (1) having released him from this fear they persuaded
him to grant them the favour. And inasmuch as they brought to the work
all the strength which they had, God also henceforth contributed his strength
to it. For it was not God's doing only that they achieved those things
for the sake of which they were to receive a reward, but the beginning
and starting point was from their own purpose, and having manifested that
to be noble and brave, they won for themselves the help of God, and so
accomplished their aim.
16. Dost thou then perceive that if a man does not injure himself,
no one else will be able to harm him? Behold at least youthfulness, and
captivity and destitution, and removal into a foreign land, and loneliness,
and dearth of protectors, and a stern command, and great fear of death
assailing the mind of the eunuch, and poverty, and feebleness of numbers,
and dwelling in the midst of barbarians, and having enemies for masters,
and surrender into the hands of the king himself, and separation from all
their kindred, and removal from priests and prophets, and from all others
who cared for them, and the cessation of drink offerings and sacrifices,
and loss of the temple and psalmody, and yet none of these things harmed
them; but they had more renown then than when they enjoyed these things
in their native land. And after they had accomplished this task first and
had wreathed their brows with the glorious garland of victory, and had
kept the law even in a foreign land, and trampled under foot the tyrant's
command, and overcome fear of the avenger, and yet received no harm from
any quarter, as if they had been quietly living at home and enjoying the
benefit of all those things which I mentioned, after they had thus fearlessly
accomplished their work they were again summoned to other contests. And
again they were the same men; and they were subjected to a more severe
trial than the former one, and a furnace was kindled, and they were confronted
by the barbarian army in company with the king: and the whole Persian force
was set in motion and everything was devised which tended to put deceit
or confront upon them: divers kinds of music, and various forms of punishment,
and threats, and what they saw on every side of them was alarming, and
the words which they heard were more alarming than what they saw; nevertheless
inasmuch as they did not betray themselves, but made the most of their
own strength, they never sustained any kind of damage: but even won for
themselves more glorious crowns of victory than before. For Nabuchadonosor
bound them and cast them into the furnace, yet he burnt them not. but rather
benefited them, and rendered them more illustrious. And although they were
deprived of temple (for I will repeat my former remarks) and altar, and
fatherland, and priests and prophets, although they were in a foreign and
barbarous county, in the very midst of the furnace, surrounded by all that
mighty host, the king himself who wrought this looking on, they set up
a glorious trophy, and won a notable victory, having sung that admirable
and extraordinary hymn which from that day to this has been sung
283
throughout the world and will continue to be sung to future generations.
Thus then when a man does not injure himself, he
cannot possibly be hurt by another: for I will not cease harping constantly
upon this saying. For if captivity, and bondage, and loneliness and loss
of country and all kindred and death, and burning, and a great army and
a savage tyrant could not do any damage to the innate virtue of the three
children captives, bondmen, strangers though they were in a foreign land,
but the enemy's assault became to them rather the occasion of greater confidence:
what shall be able to harm the temperate man? There is nothing, even should
he have the whole world in arms against him. But, some one may say, in
their case God stood beside them, and plucked them out of the flame. Certainly
He did; and if thou wilt play thy part to the best of thy power, the help
which God supplies will assuredly follow.
17. Nevertheless the reason why I admire those youths,
and pronounce them blessed, and enviable, is not because they tramped on
the flame, and vanquished the force of the fire: but because they were
bound, and cast into the furnace, and delivered to the fire for the sake
of true doctrine. For this it was which constituted the completeness of
their triumph, and the wreath of victory was placed on their brows as soon
as they were cast into the furnace and before the issue of events it began
to be weaved for them from the moment that they uttered those words which
they spoke with much boldness and freedom of speech to the king when they
were brought into his presence. "We have no need to answer thee concerning
this thing: for our God in Heaven whom we serve is able to rescue us out
of the burning fiery furnace: and He will deliver us out of thy hands,
O King. But if not, be it known unto thee, O King, that we will not serve
thy Gods nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up."(1) After
the utterance of these words I proclaimed them conquerors; after these
words having grasped the prize of victory, they hastened on to the glorious
crown of martyrdom, following up the confession which they made through
their words with the confession made through their deeds. But if when they
had been cast into it, the fire had respect for their bodies, and undid
their bonds, and suffered them to go down into it without fear, and forgot
its natural force, so that the furnace of fire became as a fountain of
cool water, this marvel was the effect of God's grace and of the divine
wonder-working power. Yet the heroes themselves even before these things
took place, as soon as they set foot in the flames had erected their trophy,
and won their victory, and put on their crown, and had been proclaimed
conquerors both in Heaven and on earth, and so far as they were concerned
nothing was wanting for their renown. What then wouldst thou have to say
to these things? Hast thou been driven into exile, and expelled from thy
county? Behold so also were they. Hast thou suffered captivity, and become
the servant of barbarian makers. Well! this also thou wilt find befell
these men. But thou hast no one present there to regulate thy state nor
to advise or instruct thee? Well ! of attention of this kind these men
were destitute. Or thou hast been bound, burned, put to death? for thou
canst not tell me of anything more painful than these things. Yet lo! these
men having gone through them all, were made more glorious by each one of
them, yea more exceedingly illustrious, and increased the store of their
treasures in Heaven. And the Jews indeed who had both temple, and altar,
and ark and cherubim, and mercy-seat, and veil, and an infinite multitude
of priests, and daily services, and morning and evening sacrifices, and
continually heard the voices of the prophets, both living and de-pared,
sounding in their ears, and carried about with them the recollection of
the wonders which were done in Egypt, and in the wilderness, and all the
rest, and turned the story of these things over in their hands, and had
them inscribed upon their door posts and enjoyed the benefit at that time
of much supernatural power and every other kind of help were yet no wise
profited, but rather damaged, having set up idols in the temple itself,
and having sacrificed their sons and daughters under trees, and in almost
every part of the country in Palestine having offered those unlawful and
accursed sacrifices, and perpetrated countless other deeds yet more monstrous.
But these men although in the midst of a barbarous and hostile land, having
their occupation in a tyrant's house, deprived of all that care of which
I have been speaking, led away to execution, and subjected to burning,
not only suffered no harm there from small or great, but became the more
illustrious. Knowing then these things, and collecting instances of the
like kind from the inspired divine Scriptures (for it is possible to find
many such examples in the case of various other persons) we deem that neither
a difficulty arising from seasons or events, nor compulsion and force,
nor the arbitrary authority
284
of potentates furnish a sufficient excuse for us when we transgress. I will now conclude my discourse by repeating what I said at the beginning, that if any one be harmed and injured he certainly suffers this at his own hands, not at the hands of others even if there be countless multitudes injuring and insulting him: so that if he does not suffer this at his own hands, not all the creatures who inhabit the whole earth and sea if they combined to attack him would be able to hurt one who is vigilant and sober in the Lord. Let us then, I beseech you, be sober and vigilant at all times, and let us endure all painful things bravely that we may obtain those everlasting and pure blessings in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power, now and ever throughout all ages. Amen.
LETTERS TO OLYMPIAS.
TO MY LADY,
THEMOST REVEREND AND DIVINELY FAVORED DEACONESS OLYMPIAS, 1 JOHN, BISHOP, SEND GREETING IN THE LORD.
1. COME now let me relieve the wound of thy despondency,
and disperse the thoughts which gather this cloud of care around thee.
For what is it which upsets thy mind, and why art thou sorrowful and dejected?
Is it because of the fierce black storm which has overtaken the Church,
enveloping all things in darkness as of a night without a moon, and is
growing to a head every day, travailing to bring forth disastrous shipwrecks,
and increasing the ruin of the world? I know all this as well as you; none
shall gainsay it, and if you like I will form an image of the things now
taking place so as to present the tragedy yet more distinctly to thee.
We behold a sea upheaved from the very lowest depths, some sailors floating
dead upon the waves, others engulfed by them, the planks of the ships breaking
up, the sails torn to tatters, the masts sprung, the oars dashed out of
the sailors' hands, the pilots seated on the deck, clasping their knees
with their hands instead of grasping the rudder, bewailing the hopelessness
of their situation with sharp cries and bitter lamentations, neither sky
nor sea clearly visible, but all one deep and impenetrable darkness, so
that no one can see his neighbour, whilst mighty is the roaring of the
billows, and monsters of the sea attack the crews on every side.
But how much further shall I pursue the unattainable?
for whatever image of our present evils I may seek speech shrinks baffled
from the attempt. Nevertheless even when I look at these calamities I do
not abandon the hope of better things, considering as I do who the pilot
is in all this--not one who gets the better of the storm by his art, but
calms the raging waters by his rod. But if He does not effect this at the
outset and speedily, such is His custom--He does not at the beginning put
down these terrible evils, but when they have increased, and come to extremities,
and most persons are reduced to despair, then He works wondrously, and
beyond all expectation, thus manifesting his own power, and training the
patience of those who undergo these calamities. Do not therefore be cast
down. For there is only one thing, Olympias, which is really terrible,
only one real trial, and that is sin; and I have never ceased continually
harping upon this theme; but as for all other things, plots, enmities,
frauds, calumnies, insults, accusations, confiscation, exile, the keen
sword of the enemy, the peril of the deep, warfare of the whole world,
or anything else you like to name, they are but idle tales. For whatever
the nature of these things may be they are transitory and perishable, and
operate in a mortal body without doing any injury to the vigilant soul.
Therefore the blessed Paul, desiring to prove the insignificance both of
the pleasures and sorrows relating to this life, declared the whole truth
in one sentence when he said--"For the things which are seen are temporal."(1)
Why then dost thou fear temporal things which pass away like the stream
of a river. For such is the nature of present things whether they be pleasant
or painful. And another prophet compared all human prosperity not to grass,
but to another material even more flimsy, describing the whole of it "as
the flower of grass." For he did not single out any one part of it, as
wealth alone, or luxury alone, or power, or honour; but having comprised
all the things which are esteemed splendid amongst men under the one designa-
290
tion of glory he said "all the glory of man is as the flower of grass."(1)
2. Nevertheless, you will say, adversity is a terrible
thing and grievous to be borne. Yet look at it again compared with another
image and then also learn to despise it. For the railings, and insults,
and reproaches, and gibes inflicted by enemies, and their plots are compared
to a worn-out garment, and moth-eaten wool when God says "Fear ye not the
reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings, for they shall
wax old as doth a garment, and like moth-eaten wool so shall they be consumed."(2)
Therefore let none of these things which are happening trouble thee, but
ceasing to invoke the aid of this or that person, and to run after shadows
(for such are human alliances), do thou persistently call upon Jesus, whom
thou servest, merely to bow his head; and in a moment of time all these
evils will be dissolved. But if thou hast already called upon Him, and
yet they have not been dissolved, such is the manner of God's dealing (for
I will resume my former argument); He does not put down evils at the outset,
but when they have grown to a head, when scarcely any form of the enemy's
malice remains ungratified, then He suddenly converts all things to a state
of tranquillity and conducts them to an unexpected settlement. For He is
not only able to turn as many things as we expect and hope, to good, but
many more, yea infinitely more. Wherefore also Paul saith "now to Him who
is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think."(3)
Could He not, for example, have prevented the three children at the outset
from falling into trial? But He did not choose to do this, thereby conferring
great pain upon them. Therefore He suffered them to be delivered into the
hands of barbarians, and the furnace to be heated to an immeasurable height
and the wrath of the king to blaze even more fiercely than the furnace,
and hands and feet to be bound with great severity and they themselves
to be cast into the fire; and then, when all they who beheld despaired
of their rescue, suddenly, and beyond all hope, the wonder-working power
of God, the supreme artificer, was displayed, and shone forth with exceeding
splendour. For the fire was bound, and the bondmen were released; and the
furnace became a temple of prayer, a place of fountains and dew, of higher
dignity than a royal court, and the very hairs of their head prevailed
over that all devouring element which gets the better even of iron and
stone, and masters every kind of substance. And a solemn song of universal
praise was instituted there by these holy men inviting every kind of created
thing to join in the wondrous melody; and they uttered hymns of thanksgiving
to God for that they had been bound, and also burnt, as far at least as
the malice of their enemies had power; that they had been exiles from their
country, captives deprived of their liberty, wandering outcasts from city
and home, sojourners in a strange and barbarous land; for all this was
the outpouring of a grateful heart. And when the malicious devices of their
enemies were perfected (for what further could they attempt after their
death?) and the labours of the heroes were completed, and the garland of
victory was woven, and their rewards were prepared and nothing more was
wanting for their renown; then at last their calamities were brought to
an end, and he who caused the furnace to be kindled, and delivered them
over to that great punishment, became himself the panegyrist of those holy
heroes, and the herald of God's marvellous deed, and everywhere throughout
the world issued letters full of reverent praise, recording what had taken
place, and becoming the faithful herald of the miracles wrought by the
wonder-working God. For inasmuch as he had been an enemy and adversary
what he wrote was above suspicion even in the opinion of enemies.
3. Dost thou see the abundance of resource belonging
to God? His wisdom, His extraordinary power, His loving-kindness and care?
Be not therefore dismayed or troubled but continue to give thanks to God
for all things, praising, and invoking Him; beseeching and supplicating;
even if countless tumults and troubles come upon thee, even if tempests
are stirred up before thy eyes let none of these things disturb thee. For
our Master is not baffled by the difficulty, even if all things are reduced
to the extremity of ruin. For it is possible for Him to raise those who
have fallen, to convert those who are in error, to set straight those who
have been ensnared, to release those who have been laden with countless
sins, and make them righteous, to quicken those who are dead, to restore
lustre to decayed things,and freshness to those which have waxen old. For
if He makes things which are not, come into being, and bestows existence
on things which are nowhere by any means manifest, how much more will He
rectify things which already exist. But you will say there are many who
perish, many who are caught by snares. Many such things have indeed often
taken place, yet afterwards have all received their appropriate correction,
save some few who have remained in an incurable condition, even after the
change in their circumstances. Why are you troubled and distracted because
such a person is cast out and
291
such another is put into his place? Christ was crucified and the release
of Barabbas the robber was demanded, and the depraved populace clamoured
for the preservation of the murderer rather than of the Saviour and benefactor.
How many think you then stumbled at these things? how many were destroyed?
But I must carry my argument yet further back. Did not He who was crucified
become immediately after his birth a wanderer and a fugitive? was He not
from the very cradle removed with the whole household into a strange land,
taking that long journey into a barbarous region? And this removal gave
occasion to torrents of blood, and cruel murder and slaughter, and all
the children of tender age were cut to pieces just as if they had been
soldiers arrayed in battle, and infants torn from the breast were handed
over to death, and even when the milk was in their throats, the sword was
driven through their necks. What could be more distressing than this tragedy?
And these things were done by him who sought to destroy Jesus, yet the
long-suffering God endured this tragical cruelty, which caused so much
bloodshed, and forbore to prevent it although He had the power, displaying
his long-suffering for some inscrutably wise purpose. And when Jesus had
returned from the foreign land and was grown up, war was rekindled against
him on every side. First of all the disciples of John were envious of Him
and tried to slander Him, although John himself behaved reverently to Him,
and they said "He who was with thee beyond Jordan, behold the same baptizeth
and all men come to Him."(1) For these were the words of men who were already
irritated, and agitated by ill-will, and consumed by that passion. For
the same reason also one of the disciples who said these things disputed
with a certain Jew and raised a contentious argument about purifying, comparing
one kind of baptism with another, the baptism of John with that of the
disciples of Christ. "For there arose" it is said, "a questioning
on the part of John's disciples with a certain Jew about purifying."(2)
And when He began to work miracles how many calumniators He had!
Some called Him a Samaritan and demoniac saying "Thou art a Samaritan and
hast a Devil"(3) others "a deceiver," saying "This man is not of God but
deceiveth the multitude"(4) others "a sorcerer" saying "He casteth out
devils through Beelzebub the prince of the Devils"(5) and they continually
said these things against Him and called Him an adversary of God, and a
gluttonous, and greedy man, and a drunkard, and a friend of the wicked
and depraved. "For" He said, "the Son of man came eating and drinking and
they say behold a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans
and sinners."(6) And when he was conversing with the harlot they called
Him a false prophet; "For had He been a prophet," one said, "He would have
known who this woman is which speaketh unto Him;"(7) in fact every day
they sharpened their teeth against Him. And not only did the Jews
thus oppose Him, but even those who were reputed to be his brethren were
not sincerely attached to Him, but even out of his own family opposition
was kindled against Him. See at least how they also themselves were perverted,
from the evangelist adding the remark "for neither did His brethren believe
on Him."(8)
4. But since you call to mind many who were offended
and went astray, how many of the disciples do you suppose were offended
at the time of the crucifixion? One betrayed Him, the others took to flight,
one denied Him, and when all had abandoned Him He was led away bound without
companions. How many then think you who had lately seen Him working His
miracles, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, casting out devils, multiplying
loaves, and doing all other kinds of wonderful deeds, were offended at
that season, when they beheld Him led away and bound, surrounded
by common soldiers, and followed by Jewish priests making a tumult and
uproar; alone in the midst hemmed in by all his enemies, and the traitor
standing by and exulting in his deed? And what was the effect think you
when He was being scourged? and probably a vast multitude was present.
For it was an illustrious festival which brought all together, and this
drama of iniquity was enacted in the capital city, and in the very middle
of the day. How many think you who were present then were offended when
they saw Him bound, scourged, streaming with blood, examined before the
governor's tribunal, and not one of His disciples standing by? What was
the effect again when He was subjected to those manifold kinds of mockery,
successively repeated, when they crowned Him with thorns, then arrayed
Him in a gorgeous robe, then put a reed in His hand, then fell down and
worshipped Him, setting in motion every species of ribaldry and derision?
How many think you were offended, how many bewildered, how many perplexed
when they smote Him on the cheek and said "prophesy unto us thou Christ
who is He that smote thee?"(9) and when they led
292
Him hither and thither, and spent the whole day in scoffs and abuse,
and ribaldry and derision in the midst of the Jewish assembly? and when
the servant of the High-Priest dealt Him a blow; and when the soldiers
parted His garments amongst them and when He was led up to the cross, having
the marks of the scourge upon His back, and was fastened to the wood, how
many think you were offended? For not even then were those savage beasts
softened, but became more furious than before, and the tragedy became more
intense, and the ribaldry increased. For some said "Ah! thou that destroyest
the temple, and in three days buildest it up;"(1) and some, "He saved others,
Himself He cannot save."(2)
And others said "If thou art the Son of God come
down from the cross and we will believe thee."(3)
Again when they insulted Him by offering Him gall
and vinegar on the sponge how many think you were offended? or when the
robbers reviled Him? or when as I have already said, they made that dreadful
and monstrous assertion that the robber and housebreaker, the man laden
with the crime of murder deserved to be released rather than Jesus, and
having received permission from the judge to make their choice preferred
Barabbas, desiring not only to crucify Christ, but also to involve Him
in infamy? For they thought that by these means they should be able to
manufacture the belief that He was worse than the robber, and such a great
transgressor that neither on the plea of mercy, nor of the privilege of
the Festival was it possible to save Him. For they did everything with
a view to slander His fame; which also was the reason why they crucified
the two robbers with Him. Nevertheless the truth was not obscured, but
shone forth all the more clearly. And they accused Him of usurping kingly
power saying "Every one who maketh himself a king is not a friend of Caesar"(4)
bringing this charge of usurpation against one who had not where to lay
his head. Moreover they brought a calumnious accusation of blasphemy against
Him. For the High Priest rent his clothes saying "He hath spoken blasphemy;
what further need have we of witnesses?"(5) And what was the nature of
his death? was it not a violent one? was it not the death of capital
offenders? of execrable criminals? was it not of the vilest kind? was it
not the death of those who have perpetrated the worst offences, and are
not worthy to draw even their last breath upon the earth? And then as to
the manner of his burial, was it not accomplished as a matter of favour?
For a certain one came and begged for his body. Thus not even he who buried
Him belonged to his own friends, to those whom He had benefited, to his
disciples, to those who had enjoyed such free and salutary intercourse
with Him, for all had taken to flight, all had hurried away from Him. And
that base Suspicion which his enemies contrived in consequence of the resurrection
when they said "His disciples came and stole Him"(6) how many think you
were offended, how many for a time upset by that? For the story prevailed
at that time, although it was a fabrication, and was bought for money;
nevertheless it held its ground amongst some people, after the seals (of
the sepulchre were broken)(7) after the manifest appearance of the truth.
For the multitude did not know the prediction of the resurrection (and
no wonder), inasmuch as even his disciples did not understand it; for we
read "they did not know that He must rise again from the dead."(8) How
many therefore think you were offended in those days? And yet the long-suffering
God patiently endured, ordering all things according to His own inscrutable
wisdom.
5. Then again after those days the disciples continued
to live in hiding and secrecy, being fugitives full of fear and trembling,
continually shifting from place to place, and even when they began to appear
after fifty days, and to work miracles, they did not enjoy perfect security;
but even after those events there were innumerable stumbling-blocks to
offend the weaker brethren, when they were scourged, when the Church was
distressed, when they themselves were driven away, and their enemies had
the upper hand in many places, and raised tumults. For when they had acquired
much confidence by means of the miracles which they wrought, then the death
of Stephen again caused a severe persecution, and dispersed them all, and
involved the Church in confusion; and the disciples were again alarmed,
fugitive, and distressed. And yet the Church continually grew, when it
flourished by means of the signs which were wrought and became illustrious
from the manner of its introduction. One disciple for example was let down
through a window, and so escaped the hands of the ruler; others were brought
out of prison by an angel and so released from their fetters; others were
received into the houses of common people and artisans when they were driven
out by those in authority; they were courteously treated in every way,
by female sellers of purple, by tentmakers, and
293
tanners dwelling in the outskirts of the cities, and by the sea shore.
Frequently moreover they did not dare to appear in the middle of the towns;
and if they did venture there themselves their entertainers did not. And
thus amidst alternate trials, and respites from trial, the fabric of the
Church was wrought, and they who once stumbled were afterwards set upright,
and they who wandered away were brought back, and the ruined places were
built up more firmly than before. For this cause when Paul prayed that
the preaching of the word might proceed by a smooth course only, God rich
in wisdom and resource did not yield to His disciple; nay even when many
times invoked he would not consent but said "my grace is sufficient for
thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness."(1) If then even now
you will reckon up the good things with the painful, you will see
that many events have occurred which if not positive signs and wonders
do yet resemble signs, and are unspeakable proofs of the great
providence and succour of God. But that you may not hear everything
from me without any trouble, I leave this as thy task, that you may reckon
up everything accurately and compare them with the misfortunes, and by
occupying yourself with this good employment may divert your mind from
despondency; for you will derive much consolation from this work.
Pray say many kind words from me to all your blessed
household. May you continue in good health and good spirits, most reverend
and divinely favoured lady.
If you wish me to write long letters inform
me of this, and pray do not deceive me by saying that you have thrown off
all despondency, and are enjoying a season of rest. For letters are
a remedy of the proper kind to produce great cheerfulness in
thee, and you will continually see letters from me. And when you write
to me again do not say "I have much comfort from your letters, for
this I know of myself, but tell me that you have as much as I wish you
to have, that you are not confounded with sorrow, that you do not pass
your time in weeping, but in serenity and cheerfulness.
TO OLYMPIAS.
Do not be anxious on my behalf, nor rack yourself with solicitude, on account of the severity of the winter, and the weakness of my digestion, and the incursions of the Isaurians. For the winter is only what it is wont to be in Armenia; nothing more need be said about it; and it does not very seriously injure me. For in anticipation of these things I have devised many plans for averting the mischief which might arise from them; keeping up a constant fire, setting screens about the chamber in which I live, using a large number of rugs, and staying always indoors. This indeed is irksome to me, if it were not for the benefit to be derived; for as long as I remain indoors I am not severely distressed by the cold; but if I am compelled to go out a little, and come in contact with the outer air, I suffer no small damage. Wherefore I beseech thee dear lady, and entreat thee as a very great favour to pay great attention to the restoration of thy bodily health. For dejection causes sickness; and when the body is exhausted and enfeebled, and remains in a neglected condition, deprived of the assistance of physicians, and of a wholesome climate, and an abundant supply of the necessaries of life, consider how great an aggravation of distress is occasioned thereby. Wherefore I beseech you, dear lady, to employ various and skilled physicians, and to take medicines which avail to correct these conditions. For a few days ago when I suffered from a tendency to vomiting, owing to the state of the atmosphere, I had recourse amongst other remedies to the drug which was sent me by my most discreet mistress Syncletion, and I found that no more than three days' application of it cured my infirmity. I beseech you therefore to make use of this remedy also yourself and to arrange that some more of it may be sent to me. For having again felt somewhat upset, I again had recourse to it, and completely cured my disorder; for it allays the deep internal inflammation, draws out moisture on the skin, causes a moderate degree of warmth, infuses no little vigor, and excites an appetite for food; and all these effects I experienced in the course of a few days. Let then my most honoured lord the Count Theophilus be exhorted to take means to send some of this to me again. And do not be distressed at my wintering here, for I am in a much more comfortable and sounder state of health than I was last year; so that if you also would take the requisite care of yourself, you would be in a far more satisfactory condition. Now if you say that your ailments have been produced by despondency how is it that you again ask for letters from me, seeing that you have not derived any benefit from them in the direction of cheerfulness, but have sunk so deeply under the tyranny of despondency as even to desire to depart out of this world. Are you ignorant how great a reward even of sickness awaits one who has a thankful spirit? Have I not often, both in person, and through letters, dis-
294
coursed to you concerning this theme? But since the pressure of business
perhaps, or the peculiar nature of your sickness, and the quick succession
of changes in your condition do not permit you to retain what I have said
constantly and dearly in your mind, listen once more whilst I try to heal
the wounds of thy despondency by repeating the same incantations: "for
to write the same things," it is said, "to me indeed is not grievous, and
for you it is safe."(1)
2. What is it then which I say and write? Nothing,
Olympias, redounds so much to the credit of any one as patient endurance
in suffering. For this is indeed the queen of virtues, and the perfection
of crowns; and as it excels all other forms of righteousness, so this particular
species of it is more glorious than the rest. Perhaps what I have said
seems obscure; I will therefore try to make it clearer. What then is it
that I affirm? Not the spoliation of goods, even if one were to be stripped
bare of all one's possessions, not the loss of honours, nor expulsion from
one's country, and transportation to a distant land, nor the strain of
labour and toil, nor imprisonment, and bondage, nor reproaches, and abuse,
and scoffings (not indeed that you are to think the courageous endurance
of such things a slight kind of fortitude, as Jeremiah that great and eminent
prophet proves who was not a little distressed by this kind of trial);(2)
yet not even this, nor the loss of children, even should they be torn from
us in one fell swoop, nor the perpetual assaults of enemies, nor anything
else of that nature, no, nor even the head and crown of things accounted
painful, namely death, terrible and loathsome though it be, is so oppressive
as infirmity of body. And this is proved by the greatest hero of endurance,(3)
who, when he was encompassed by bodily sickness, thought death would be
a release from the calamities which were depressing him; and when he underwent
all the other sufferings, was not sensible of them, although he received
blow after blow, and at last a deadly one. For it was no slight matter,
but rather an evidence of the most malignant cruelty on the part of his
enemy in dealing with one who was no novice in suffering, nor entering
the lists for the first time, but already exhausted with the frequent repetition
of assaults, to inflict upon him that deadly blow, the destruction of his
children, so cruelly inflicted moreover that all of either sex were destroyed
at the same moment in early youth and by a violent end, and so instantaneous
was their death that it involved their burial also. For their father neither
saw them laid upon a bed, nor kissed their hands, nor heard their
last words, nor touched their hands and knees, nor did he shut their mouths,
or close their eyes when they were about to die, acts which tend not a
little to console parents who are being parted from their children; neither
did he follow some of them to burial, and find others on his return home
to console him for those who had departed; but he heard that as they were
reclining on their couches at a banquet, a banquet full of love, not of
excess, a table of brotherly kindness, they were all overwhelmed; and blood,
and wine, the cups and the ceiling, the table, and the dust, and the limbs
of his children, were all mingled together. Nevertheless when he heard
these things, and others before these which were also distressing; for
they too had perished in a distressing way; flocks and whole herds had
been destroyed, the latter having been consumed by fire sent down from
heaven, (so said the evil messenger of this tragedy,) and the former having
been all seized together by various enemies, and cut to pieces as well
as the shepherds themselves; nevertheless I say when he saw this great
storm stirred up in a brief moment of time affecting his lands, his house,
his cattle, and his children, when he saw billow following billow, and
long lines of rocks, and the darkness was profound, and the surging waves
unbearable, even then he was not tortured by despondency, and scarcely
seemed to feel the things which had happened, save so far as he was a man
and a father. But when he was delivered over to sickness and sores, then
did he also long for death, then did he also bewail himself and lament,
so that you may understand how this kind of suffering is more severe than
all others, and this form of patience the highest of all. Nor is the Devil
himself unaware, of this fact; for when after having set in motion all
these trials he perceived that the hero remained untroubled and undismayed
he rushed to this as the greatest contest of all, saying that all the other
calamities were bearable, as loss of child, or property, or anything else
(for this is what is meant by the expression "skin for skin"(4)) but the
deadly blow was when pain was inflicted on a man's body. And therefore
when he had been worsted after this contest, he had no longer a word to
utter, although on former occasions he had made the most strenuous and
shameless resistance. In this instance however he found that he could
not invent any further shameless device, but hid his face and retreated.
3. Think not however that it is an excuse
295
to justify you in desiring death, that Job desired it, not being able
to bear his sufferings. For consider the time when he desired it, and the
disposition of his circumstances--the law was not given, the prophets had
not appeared, grace had not been shed forth as it was afterwards, nor had
he the advantage of any other kind of philosophy. For as a proof that more
is demanded from us than from those who lived then, and that harder tasks
are assigned to us, listen to Christ, when He says "Except your righteousness
exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees ye shall in no case
enter into the kingdom of Heaven."(1) Do not think therefore that to pray
for death now is exempt from blame, but hearken to the voice of St. Paul
when he says "To depart and to be with Christ is far better, but to abide
in the flesh is more necessary for your sake."(2) For in proportion as
the strain of the affliction is increased are the garlands of victory multiplied;
in proportion as the gold is heated does it become purified, the longer
the merchant makes his voyage on the sea, the larger is the freight which
he collects. Do not then think that the labour now allotted to you is a
slight one, but rather that it is higher than all which you have undergone,
I mean that which consists in infirmity of body. For in the case of Lazarus(3)
(and although I may have often said this to you, it nowise hinders me from
saying it now) this bodily infirmity availed for his salvation; and he
departed to the bosom of the man who possessed a dwelling which he shared
with all who passed by,(4) and was continually shifting his home on account
of God's command, and sacrificed his own son, his only begotten,
who had been given him in extreme old age; although Lazarus had done none
of these things yet he obtained this blessing inasmuch as he cheerfully
endured poverty, and infirmity, and friendlessness. For this is so great
a good to those who bear anything bravely that it releases any one who
may have committed the greatest sins from the heaviest burden of them;
or if any one is an upright and just man it becomes an additional ground
of the greatest confidence. For it is a bright wreath of victory for the
just, shining far above the brightness of the sun, and it is the greatest
means of purification for those who have sinned. On this account Paul delivers
the man who had made the incestuous marriage to "destruction of the flesh,"
purifying him by this means. For as a proof that what was done did purify
even from so great a stain hear his words "that his spirit may be saved
in the day of the Lord."(5) And when he was accusing others of another
very awful sin, that of partaking unworthily of the holy table and those
secret mysteries, and had said that such a person will be "guilty of the
body and blood of the Lord,"(6) observe how he says that they also are
purified from that grievous stain--"therefore are many weak and sickly
among you."(7) And then by way of proving that they will not be confined
to this condition of punishment, but that some profit will be derived from
it, namely release from the penalties to which the sin is liable, he added:
"for if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged. But now when
we are judged, we are chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned
with the world."(8) Moreover that they who have lived very righteously
derive much benefit from such chastisement is plain from the case of Job,
who was more illustrious after it than before, and from the case of Timothy,
who although he was such a good man, and entrusted with such an important
ministry, and made the circuit of the world with Paul passed not two or
three days, nor ten or twenty, or a hundred, but many in succession in
ill health, his body being very seriously enfeebled. Paul shows this where
he said "Use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities."(9)
And he who raised the dead did not cure this man's infirmity, but left
him in the furnace of his sickness so that he might therefrom contract
a very great abundance of confidence. For the lessons which Paul himself
had enjoyed from his Master, and the training which he had received from
Him, he imparted to his disciple. For although he was not subjected to
bodily infirmity, yet he was buffeted by trials not less severe, which
inflicted much physical pain. "For there was given unto me" he says "a
thorn in the flesh a messenger of Satan to buffet me"(10) meaning
by this the blows, the bonds, the chains, the imprisonments, the being
dragged about, and maltreated, and tortured by the scourges of public executioners.
Wherefore also being unable to bear the pain occasioned to the body by
these things "for this I besought the Lord thrice (thrice here meaning
many times) that I might be delivered from this thorn." And then when he
did not obtain his petition, having learned the benefit of the trial, he
held his peace, and rejoiced at the things which happened unto him.
Therefore even if you remain at home, and are set
fast in bed, do not consider your life
296
an idle one; for you undergo more severe pains than those who are dragged,
and maltreated, and tortured by executioners, inasmuch as in this excessive
infirmity of yours you have a perpetual executioner residing with you.
4. Do not then now desire death, nor neglect the
means of cure; for indeed this would not be safe. On this account Paul
also exhorts Timothy to take the greatest care of himself. As regards infirmity
then enough has now been said. But if it is separation from me which causes
your despondency expect release from this. And I have not said this now
merely to encourage you, but I am sure that it really will be the case.
For if it were not destined to happen, I should long ago, so at least I
think, have departed from this world, considering the trials which have
been inflicted on me. For to pass over all that occurred in Constantinople,
after my departure thence, you may understand what sufferings I endured
on that long and cruel journey, most of which were sufficient to produce
death; what I endured after my arrival here, after my removal from Cucusus,
and after my sojourn in Arabissus. Yet I have survived all these things,
and now I am in sound health, and great security, so that all Armenians
are astonished that with such a feeble and flimsy frame as mine I can support
such an intolerable amount of cold, or that I can breathe at all, when
those who are habituated to the winter are suffering from it in no common
degree. Nevertheless I have remained uninjured up to the present day, having
escaped the hands of robbers who have repeatedly attacked us, and yet in
daily want of the necessaries of life, and deprived of the use of a bath;
and although since my sojourn here I have been constantly without this
luxury I am now so established in the habit that I do not even long for
the comfort to be derived from it, but am in sounder health than before.
And neither the inclemency of the climate, nor the desolation of the region,
nor the scarcity of provisions, nor the lack of attendants, nor the unskillfulness
of physicians, nor the deprivation of the bath, nor perpetual confinement
in one chamber as in a prison, and the impossibility of moving about which
I always used continually to need, nor perpetual contact with fire and
smoke, nor fear of robbers, nor a constant state of siege, nor anything
else of this kind has got the better of me; on the contrary I am in a sounder
condition of health than I was elsewhere, although I then received
great care and attention. Taking all these things then into consideration
pray shake off the despondency which now oppresses you, and
do not exact inordinate and cruel penances from yourself. I sent you the
treatise which I have lately written, that "no one can harm the man who
does not injure himself,"(1) and the letter which I now send your honour
contends for the same position. I beg you therefore to go over it constantly,
and if your health permits you, recite it aloud. For if you will, it may
prove an effectual remedy for you. But if you are contentious with me,
and do not try to cure yourself, and will not rouse yourself from these
dismal swamps of despondency in spite of the unlimited amount of advice
and exhortation which you enjoy I shall not on my part readily consent
to send you frequent and long letters, if you are not to derive any benefit
in the way of cheerfulness from them. How then shall I know this? not by
your merely saying so, but by a practical proof, inasmuch as you lately
affirmed that it was nothing but despondency which caused this sickness
of yours. Since then you have yourself made this confession I shall not
believe that you have got rid of your despondency unless you have got rid
of your bodily infirmity. For if it is the former which causes your disorder,
as you say in your letter, it is obvious that when that has been dispersed
the other will be removed at the same time, and when the root has been
plucked up, the branches perish with it;--and if the branches continue
flowering and flourishing, and producing an unnatural amount of fruit I
cannot believe that you have been set free from the root of your distress.
Therefore do not show me words but facts, and, if you get well, you will
see letters sent to you again exceeding the limits of former communications.
Deem it then no small consolation that I am alive, and in good health,
and that in the midst of such circumstances I have been set free from sickness
and infirmity, which, as I know, is a great annoyance and vexation to my
enemies. It follows therefore that you should deem this the greatest encouragement,
and the crown of your consolation. Do not call your household desolate,
which has now a higher place assigned to it in Heaven by reason of the
sufferings which it endures. I was grievously distressed on account of
Pelagius the monk.(2) Consider therefore what great rewards they deserve
who bravely hold their ground, when men who pass their time in such
a habit of disci line and endurance are found susceptible of degradation.
297
TO OLYMPIAS.
HAVING risen from the very gates of death I address
this letter to the discreet lady; and I am very glad that thy servants
have met me just as I am anchoring at last in harbour. For had they met
me when I was still tossing on the open sea, and experiencing the cruel
waves of bodily sickness, it would not have been easy for me to deceive
your cautious spirit, by sending good tidings instead of sorrowful. For
the winter, which has become more than commonly severe, brought on a storm
of internal disorder even more distressing, and during the last two months
I have been no better than one dead, nay worse. For I had just enough life
to be sensible of the horrors which encircled me, and day and dawn and
noon were all one night to me as I spent all my time closely confined to
my bed, and in spite of endless contrivances I could not shake off the
pernicious effects of the cold; but although I kept a fire burning, and
endured a most unpleasant amount of smoke, and remained cooped up in one
chamber, covered with any quantity of wraps, and not daring to set a foot
outside the threshold I underwent extreme sufferings, perpetual vomiting
supervening on headache, loss of appetite, and constant sleeplessness.
Thus restlessly did I pass through my long dark sea of troubles But not
to distress thy mind by dwelling upon my miseries, from all of them I am
now relieved. For as soon as spring approached, and a little change in
the temperature took place, all my troubles spontaneously vanished. Nevertheless
I still require great care as regards diet; therefore I put only a light
load on my stomach, so that it may be able to digest it easily. But it
has occasioned me no little concern to learn that my discreet mistress
was brought to the verge of death. Nevertheless in consideration of my
great affection, and anxiety, and solicitude for your welfare I was relieved
from this care, even before the arrival of your letters, many persons having
come from thence who brought me tidings of your restoration to health.
And now I am exceedingly glad and delighted to hear,
not only that you have been released from your infirmity, but above all
that you bear the things which befall you so bravely, calling them all
but an idle tale; and, which is indeed a greater matter, that you have
applied this name even to your bodily infirmity, which is an evidence of
a robust spirit, rich in the fruit of courage. For not only to bear
misfortunes bravely-but to be actually insensible to them, to overlook
them, and with such little exertion to wreathe your brows with the
garland prize of patience, neither labouring, nor toiling, neither feeling
distress nor causing it to others, but as it were leaping and dancing for
joy all the while, this is indeed a proof of the most finished philosophy.(1)
Therefore I rejoice, and leap for joy; I am in a flutter of delight, I
am insensible to my present loneliness, and the other troubles which surround
me, being cheered, and brightened, and not a little proud on account of
your greatness of soul, and the repeated victories which you have won,
and this, not only for your own sake, but also for the sake of that large
and populous city,(2) where you are like a tower, a haven, and a wall of
defence, speaking in the eloquent voice of example, and through your sufferings
instructing either sex to strip readily for these contests, and descend
into the lists with all courage, and cheerfully bear the toils which such
contests involve. And the wonder is that without thrusting yourself into
the forum, or occupying the public centres of the city, but sitting all
the while in a small house and confined chamber you serve and anoint the
combatants for the contest, and whilst the sea is thus raging round you,
and the billows are rising to a crest, and crags and reefs, and rocky ledges
and fierce monsters appear on every side, and everything is shrouded in
the most profound darkness you,setting the sails of patience, float on
with great serenity, as if it was noonday, and calm weather, and a favourable
breeze wafting you on, and so far from being overwhelmed by this grievous
tempest are not even sprinkled by the spray; and very naturally so; such
is the force of virtue as a rudder. Now merchants and pilots, and sailors
and voyagers when they see clouds gathering up, or fierce winds rushing
down upon them, or the breakers seething with an abundance of foam keep
their vessels moored inside harbour; and if they chance to be tempest-tossed
in the open sea they do their best, and devise every means to bring their
ship to some anchorage, or island or shore. But you, although such innumerable
winds, and fierce waves burst upon you together, and the sea is heaved
up from its very depths owing to the severity of the storm, and some are
submerged, others floating dead upon the water, others drifting naked upon
planks, you plunging into the mid ocean of calamities call all these things
an idle tale, sailing on with a favourable breeze in the midst of the tempest;
and naturally so; for pilots, even if they are infinitely wise in that
science, nevertheless have not skill sufficient to withstand every kind
298
of storm; consequently they often shrink from doing battle with the waves. But the science which you have is superior to every kind of storm--the power of a philosophic soul--which is stronger than ten thousand armies, more powerful than arms, and more secure than towers and bulwarks. For the arms, and bulwarks, and towers which soldiers have, are serviceable for the security of the body only, and this not always, nor in every way; but there are times when all these resources are baffled, and leave those who fly to them for refuge destitute of protection. But thy powers do not repel the weapons of barbarians, nor the devices of hostile men, nor any assaults and stratagems of that kind, but they have trampled under foot the constraining forces of nature, put down their tyranny and levelled their citadel. And whilst ceaselessly contending with demons, you have won countless victories, yet have not received a single blow, but stand unwounded in the midst of a storm of darts and turn the spears which are hurled at you back upon those who discharge them. Such is the wisdom of your art; by the sufferings which you undergo you take vengeance on those who inflict them; by the plots of which you are the subject you put your enemies to pain, possessing in their malice the best foundation for the materials of fame. And you, knowing these things well yourself, and having gained perception by experience, naturally call them all an idle tale. For how, pray, should you not call them by that name, possessing as you do a mortal body, and yet despising death as if you were hastening to quit a foreign country, and return to your own land; a chronic sufferer from the most severe infirmity, and yet more cheerfully disposed than the thriving and robust, not depressed by insults, nor elated by honours and glory, the latter being a cause of infinite mischief to many who after an illustrious career in the priesthood, and after reaching extreme old age, and the most venerable hoar hairs, have fallen into disgrace on this account, and become a common spectacle of derision for those who wish to make merry. But you on the contrary, woman as you are, clothed with a fragile body, and subject to these severe attacks, have not only avoided falling into such a condition yourself, but have prevented many others from so doing. They indeed before they had advanced far in the contest, even at the very outset and starting point, have been overthrown; whereas you, after having gone countless times round the farther turning post, have won a prize in every course, after playing your part in manifold kinds of wrestling and combats. And very naturally so; for the wrestlings of virtue do not depend upon age, or bodily strength, but only on the spirit and the disposition. Thus women have been crowned victors, while men have been upset; so also boys have been proclaimed conquerors. while aged men have been put to shame. It is indeed always fitting to admire those who pursue virtue, but especially when some are found to cling to it at a time when many are deserting it. Therefore, my sweet lady, you deserve superlative admiration, inasmuch as after so many men, women, and aged persons who seemed to enjoy the greatest reputation have been turned to flight, all lying prostrate before the eyes of the world, and this not after a severe onslaught, nor any alarming muster of the enemy's force, but overthrown before the encounter and worsted before the struggle, you on the contrary after so many battles and such large muster of the enemy are so far from being unstrung, or dismayed by the number of your adversities, that you are all the more vigorous, and the increase of the contest gives you an increase of strength. For the recollection of what has been already achieved becomes the ground of cheerfulness, and joy, and greater zeal. Therefore I rejoice, and leap for joy; for I will not cease repeating this, and taking about with me everywhere the material of my joy; so that although my separation from you distresses you, yet you have this very great consolation arising from your successful exploits; for I also who am banished to so great a distance gain no small cheerfulness from this cause,--I mean your courage.
TO OLYMPIAS.
Why do you lament? why do you belabour yourself, and demand of yourself a punishment which your enemies were not able to demand from you, having thus abandoned your soul to the tyranny of dejection? For the letters which you sent to me by the hands of Patricius have discovered to me the wounds which have been inflicted on your mind. Wherefore also I am very sorrowful and much distressed that when you ought to be using every exertion and making it your business to expel dejection from your soul, you go about collecting distressing thoughts, even inventing things (so you say) which do not exist, and tearing yourself to pieces for no purpose, and to your very great injury. For why are you grieved because you could not remove me from Cucusus? Yet indeed, as far as you were concerned, you did remove me, having made every exertion and endeavour for this purpose. And even if it has not been actually accomplished you ought not to be vexed on
299
that account. For perhaps it seemed good to God that I should be set
to run the longer double course,(1) in order that the garland of victory
might be rendered more glorious. Why then are you vexed on account of these
things, in consequence of which my fame is spread abroad, when you ought
to leap and dance for joy and bind wreaths upon your brow, because I have
been deemed worthy of so great an honour which far exceeds my merits? Is
it the desolation of this place which grieves you? Yet what can be pleasanter
than my sojourn here? I have quietness, and tranquillity, plenty of leisure
and good bodily health. For although the town has neither market-place
nor market that is nothing to me. For all things are poured abundantly
upon me as out of a flowing spring. I find my lord the Bishop here and
my lord Dioscorus are constantly employed in providing for my refreshment.
And the good Patricius will tell you that as far as my sojourn here is
concerned I pass my time cheerfully and gladly, surrounded by attention.
But if you lament the events which occurred in Caesarea, here again your
conduct is unworthy of yourself. For there also bright garlands of victory
were woven for me, inasmuch as all were proclaiming and publishing my praises,
and expressing wonder and astonishment at the ill-treatment to which I
had been subjected followed by expulsion. Meanwhile however do not let
any one know these things, although they are the theme of much gossip.
For my lord Poeanius has disclosed to me that the presbyters of Pharetrius
himself(2) have arrived on the spot, who declare that they were in communion
with me and had no communication or intercourse or partnership with my
adversaries. Therefore to avoid upsetting them do not let any one know
these things. For certainly the things which befell me were very grievous:
and if I had not suffered any other distress the events which happened
there would have sufficed to procure innumerable rewards for me: so extreme
was the danger which I encountered. Now I beseech you to keep these matters
secret, and so I will give you a short account of them, not in order to
grieve you but rather to make you glad. For herein consists the material
of my gain, herein consists my wealth, herein the means of getting rid
of my sins--that my journey is continually encompassed by trials of this
kind, and that they are inflicted upon me by persons from whom they were
quite unexpected. For when I was about to enter the region of Cappadocia,
having escaped from that man of Galatia, who nearly threatened me with
death,(3) many persons met me on the way saying "the lord Pharetrius is
awaiting you, and going about in all directions for fear of missing the
pleasure of meeting you, and making every possible endeavour to see you,
and embrace you, and show you all manner of affectionate regard; and he
has set the monasteries of men and women in motion for this purpose. Now
when I heard these things I did not expect that any of them would really
take place, but formed an impression in my own mind precisely the reverse:
but of this I said nothing to any of those who brought me this message.
2. Now when I arrived late one evening at Caesarea,
in an exhausted and worn-out condition, being in the very height of a burning
fever, faint and suffering to the last degree, I lighted upon an inn situated
just at the outskirts of the city, and took great pains to find some physicians
and allay this fiery fever; for it was now the height of my tertian malady.
And in addition to this there was the fatigue of the journey, the toil,
the strain, the total absence of attendants, the difficulty of getting
supplies, the want of a physician, the wasting effects of toil, and heat
and sleeplessness; thus I was well nigh a dead man when I entered the city.
Then indeed I was visited by the whole body of the clergy, and the people,
monks, nuns, physicians, and I had the benefit of great attention, as all
paid me every kind of ministration and assistance. Yet even thus, being
oppressed by the lethargy arising from the feverish heat I was in an extremely
distressed condition. At length by degrees the malady was coming to an
end and abating. Pharetrius however nowhere appeared; but waited for my
departure, I know not with what purpose in view. When then I saw that my
disorder had slightly abated I began to form plans for my journey so as
to reach Cucusus, and enjoy a little repose after the calamities of the
way. And whilst I was thus situated it was suddenly announced that the
Isaurians(4) in countless multitudes were overrunning the district of Caesarea,
and had burnt a large village, and were most violently disposed. The tribune,
having heard this, took the soldiers which he had and went out. For they
were afraid lest the enemy should make an assault also upon
300
the city, and all were in terror, and in an agony of alarm the very
soil of their country being in Jeopardy, so that even the old men undertook
the defence of the walls. While affairs were in this condition suddenly
towards dawn a rabble(1) of monks (for so I must call them, indicating
their frenzy by the expression) rushed up to the house where we were, threatening
to set fire to it, and to treat us with the utmost violence unless we turned
out of it. And neither the fear of the Isaurians, nor my own infirmity
which was so grievously afflicting me, nor anything else made them more
reasonable, but they pressed on, animated by such fierce rage that even
the proconsular soldiers were terrified. For they kept threatening them
with blows and boasted that they had shamefully beaten many of the proconsular
soldiers. The soldiers having heard these things, sought refuge with me,
and entreated and beseeched me, saying "even if we are to fall into the
hands of the Isaurians deliver us from these wild beasts." When the governor
heard this he hastened down to the house intending to succour me. But the
monks would not pay any heed to his exhortations, and in fact he was powerless.
Perceiving the great strait in which affairs were placed and not daring
to advise me either to go out to certain death, or on the other hand to
stay indoors, owing to the excessive fury of these men, he sent to Pharetrius
beseeching him to grant a few days respite on account of my infirmity and
the impending danger. But even then nothing was effected, and on the morrow
the monks arrived even fiercer than before, and none of the presbyters
dared to stand by me and help me, but covered with shame and blushes (for
they said that these things were done by the instructions of Pharetrius)
they concealed themselves and lay hid, not responding even when I called
them. What need to make a long story? Although such great terrors were
imminent, and death well nigh a certainty, and the fever was oppressing
me (for I had not yet got relief from the troubles arising from that cause)
I flung myself at high noon into the litter, and was carried out thence,
all the people shrieking and howling, and imprecating curses on the perpetrator
of these deeds, whilst every one wailed and lamented. But when I got outside
the city, some of the clergy also gradually came out and escorted me, mourning
as they went. And having heard some persons say "Where are you leading
him away to manifest death?" one of those who was warmly attached to me
said to me "Depart I entreat you; fall into the hands of the Isaurians,
provided you get clear away from us. For wherever you may fall, you will
fall into a place of security, if only you escape our hands." Having heard
and seen these things the good Seleucia, the generous wife of my lord Ruffinus
(a most attentive friend she was to me), exhorted and entreated me to lodge
at her suburban house which was about five miles from the city and she
sent some men to escort me, and so I departed thither.
3. But not even there was this plot against me to
come to an end. For as soon as Pharetrius knew what she had done, he published,
as she said many threats against her. But when she received me into her
suburban villa I knew nothing of these things; for when she came out to
meet me she concealed these · things from me, but disclosed them
to her steward who was there, and ordered him to afford me every possible
means of repose, and if any of the monks should make an assault, wishing
to insult or maltreat me, he was to collect the labourers from her other
farms, and thus marshal a force against them. Moreover she besought me
to take refuge in her house, which had a fortress and was impregnable,
that I might escape the hands of the bishop and monks. This however I could
not be induced to do, but remained in the villa, knowing nothing
of the plans which were devised after these things. For even then they
were not content to desist from their fury against me but Pharetrius beset
the lady as she says, straitly threatening her, constraining and forcing
her to expel me even from the suburbs, so that at midnight, I knowing nothing
of these things, the lady being unable to endure his annoyance, announced,
without my knowledge, that the barbarians were at hand, for she was ashamed
to mention the compulsion which she had undergone. So in the middle of
the night Evethius the presbyter came to me, and having roused me from
sleep, exclaimed with a loud voice "Get up, I pray you, the barbarians
are upon us, they are dose at hand." Imagine my condition on hearing this!
Then, when I said to him what must we do? we cannot take refuge in the
city lest we suffer worse things than what the Isaurians are going to do
to us, he compelled me to go out. It was midnight, a dark, murky night
without a moon--a circumstance which filled up the measure of our perplexity--we
had no companion, no assistant, for all had deserted us. Nevertheless under
the pressure of fear and in the expectation of immediate death, I got up,
suffering as I was, having ordered
301
torches to be lit. These however the presbyter ordered to be put out,
for fear as he said lest the barbarians should be attracted by the light
and attack us; so the torches were extinguished. Then the mule which carried
my litter fell on its knees, the road being rugged, and steep and stony,
and I who was inside was thrown down and narrowly escaped destruction,
after which I dismounted, and was dragged along on foot, being held fast
by Evethius the presbyter (for he also had alighted from his mule), and
so I plodded on, led, or rather hauled by the hand, for to walk was impossible
through such a difficult country, and amongst steep mountains in the middle
of the night. Imagine what my sufferings must have been, encompassed as
I was by such calamities, and oppressed by the fever, ignorant of the plans
which had been made, but in terror of the barbarians and trembling. with
the expectation of falling into their hands. Do you not think that these
sufferings alone, even if nothing else besides had befallen me, would avail
to blot out many of my sins, and afford ample material for obtaining praise
with God? Now the reason of all this, at least as I suppose, was, that
as soon as I arrived in Caesarea, those who were in official positions,
the learned men who were ex-vicars, and ex-governors, the ex-tribunes and
indeed the whole people visited me every day, paid me great attention,
and treated me as the apple of their eye; I suppose these things irritated
Pharetrius and that the envy which drove me from Constantinople did not
refrain from pursuing me even here. This at least is what I suppose, for
I do not positively declare it but only suspect it to be the fact.
And what is one to say about the other events which
happened on the way, the fears and the perils? as I recall them day by
day, and continually bear them in mind, I am elated with pleasure, I leap
for joy as one who has a great treasure laid up in store for him; for such
is my position and feeling about them. Wherefore also I beseech your Honour
to rejoice at these things, to be glad, and leap for joy, and to glorify
God who has counted me worthy to suffer such things And I beseech
you to keep these matters to yourself, and not to divulge them to any one,
although for the most part the proconsular soldiers can fill all the city
(with the story) as they themselves have undergone extreme danger.
4. Nevertheless do not let any one know this from
your prudence, but rather put down those who talk about it. But if you
are distressed lest the consequences of my ill-treatment should remain,
know for certain that I have shaken myself entirely free from them, and
that I am in better bodily health than when I was sojourning in Caesarea.
And why do you dread the cold? for a suitable dwelling has been prepared
for me, and my lord Dioscorus does and arranges everything so as to prevent
my having the least sensation of cold. And if I may form a conjecture from
the outset of my experience, the climate now seems to me oriental in character,
no less than that of Antioch. So great is the warmth, so pleasant is the
temperature. But you have grieved me much by saying, "perhaps you are annoyed
with me as having neglected you," yet I despatched a letter many days ago
to your honour begging you not to move me from this place. Now I have had
occasion to consider that you need a strong defence and much toil and labour
to be able to make a satisfactory apology for this expression. But perhaps
you have made a partial apology, by saying "I am generally occupied in
thinking how to increase my affliction." But I in my turn reckon it as
the greatest accusation that you should say "I take a pride in increasing
my sorrow by thinking over it:" for when you ought to make every possible
effort to dispel your affliction you do the devil's will, by increasing
your despondency and sorrow. Are you not aware how great an evil despondency
is?
As to the Isaurians, dismiss your fears in future
concerning them: for they have returned into their own country: and the
governor has done everything necessary in this respect; and I am in far
greater security here than when I was in Caesarea. For in future I have
no one to fear so much as the bishops, with a few exceptions. On account
of the Isaurians then fear nothing: for they have retreated, and when winter
has set in they are confined to their own homes, although they may possibly
come out after Whitsuntide. And what do you mean by saying that you have
not the benefit of letters from me? I have already sent you three long
letters, one by the proconsular soldiers, one by Antonius, and the third
by Anatolius my servant; two of them were a salutary medicine capable of
reviving any one who was desponding or stumbling, and conducting him into
a healthy state of serenity. When you have received these letters then
go over them constantly and thoroughly, and you will perceive their force
and enjoy experience of their healing power, and benefit, and will inform
me that you have derived much advantage therefrom. I have also a third
letter ready, similar to these, which I do not choose to send at the present
302
time having been exceedingly vexed at your saying "I accumulate sorrowful
thoughts, even inventing things which do not exist," an utterance unworthy
of yourself, which makes me hide my head for shame. But read those letters
which I have sent, and you will no longer say these things, even if you
are infinitely bent on being despondent.(1) I at least have not ceased,
and will not cease saying that sin is the only thing which is really distressing;
and that all other things are but dust and smoke. For what is there grievous
in inhabiting a prison and wearing a chain? or in being ill-treated when
it is the occasion of so much gain? or why should exile be grievous or
confiscation of goods? These are mere words, destitute of any terrible
reality, words void of sorrow. For if you speak of death you only mention
that which is the debt of nature: a thing which must in any case be undergone
even if no one hastens it: and if you speak of exile you mention that which
only involves a change of country and the sight of many cities: or if you
speak of confiscation of goods you mention what is only freedom and emancipation
from care.
5. Do not cease to pay attention to Maruthas the
Bishop, as far as it concerns you, so as to lift him up out of the pit.(2)
For I have special need of him on account of the affairs in Persia. And
ascertain from him, if you can, what has been accomplished there through
his agency, and for what purpose he has come home, and let me know whether
you have delivered the two epistles which I sent to him: and if he is willing
to write to me, I will write again to him: but if he should not be willing
let him at least signify to your prudence whether any thing more has taken
place there, and whether he is likely to accomplish anything by going thither
again. For on this account I was anxious to have an interview with
him. Nevertheless let all things which depend on you be done, and take
care to fulfill your own part, even if all men are rushing headlong to
ruin. For your reward will thus be perfected. By all means therefore make
friends with him as far as it is possible. I beseech you not to neglect
what I am about to say, but to pay diligent heed to it. The Marsian and
Gothic monks where the Bishop Serapion has constantly been concealed have
informed me that Moduarius the deacon has come bringing word that Unilas,
that excellent bishop whom I lately ordained and sent into Gothia, has
been laid to rest, after achieving many great exploits: and the deacon
was the bearer of a letter from the king of the Goths begging that a bishop
might be sent to them. Since then I see no other means of meeting the threatened
catastrophe with a view to its correction save delay and postponement (as
it is impossible for them to sail into the Bosporus or into those parts
at the present time), take measures to put them off for a time on account
of the winter season: and do not by any means neglect this: for it is a
matter of the greatest importance. For there are two things which would
specially distress me if they were to happen, which God forbid: one is
that a bishop should be appointed by these men who have wrought such great
wickedness,(3) and who have no right to appoint, and the other is that
any one should be made without consideration. For you know yourself that
they are not anxious to create some worthy man bishop, and if this should
take place, which heaven forbid, you are aware what will follow. Use all
diligence therefore to prevent either of these things happening: but if
it were possible for Moduarius quietly and secretly to hasten out to me
it would be of the greatest advantage. But if this is not possible let
what is practicable under the circumstances be done. For that which takes
place in the case of money, and actually occurred in the case of the widow
in the gospel, also holds good in the case of practical affairs. For as
that poor woman when she had cast two mites into the treasury surpassed
all those who had cast in more, because she used up her whole substance:
even so they who devote themselves to the work in hand with all their might
discharge it completely, so far as they are concerned, even if nothing
results from it, and they have their reward perfected.
I am very grateful to Hilarius the bishop: for he
wrote to me asking to be allowed to depart to his own country, and to set
things in order there, and then to come back again. As his presence therefore
is of great service (for he is a devout, inflexible, and zealous man) I
have urged him to depart and to return speedily. Take care then that the
letter is quickly and safely delivered to him and not cast on one side:
for he eagerly and earnestly begged for letters from me, and his presence
is a great benefit. By all means
303
therefore have a care of the letters; and if Helladius the presbyter be not on the spot see that they are delivered to my friends by the hands of some discreet man who has a head on his shoulders.
TO OLYMPIAS.
Nothing strange or unnatural has befallen your Piety,
but only what is quite natural and consonant to reason, that by a constant
succession of trials the sinews of your soul should become more braced,
and your zeal and energy for the struggle increased, and that you should
therefrom derive much joy. For such is the nature of affliction;--when
it lays hold of a brave and noble soul, this is what it is wont to effect.
And as the fire makes the piece of gold, when it is applied to it, of better
proof: so also affliction when it visits golden characters renders them
purer and more proven. Wherefore also Paul said "affliction worketh patience,
and patience probation."(1) For these reasons I also rejoice and leap for
joy, and derive the greatest consolation of this my solitude from a consideration
of thy fortitude. On this account, even though innumerable wolves encompass
thee, and many crowds of wicked doers, I fear nothing; but I pray both
that existing temptations may be suppressed, and that others may not occur,
thus fulfilling the Lord's precept who bids us pray that we may not enter
into temptation; but if it should be permitted to happen again I have good
confidence concerning thy golden soul, which acquires therefrom the greatest
riches for itself. For by what means will they be able to terrify you,
who dare everything to their own destruction? Will it be by loss of goods?
But I know well that these are counted by thee as dust and cheaper than
dirt. Or shall it be by expulsion from country and home. But you know how
to dwell in great and populous cities as if they were uninhabited, spending
the whole of your time in quietness and rest, and treading worldly ambitions
under foot. Or do they threaten death? This also you have constantly practiced
by anticipation, and if they should drag you to slaughter, they will be
dragging a body which is already dead. What need to speak more at length?
No one will be able to do anything to thee of this kind which he will not
find you have already abundantly made yourself undergo. For by always walking
in the narrow and strait path, you have trained yourself in all these things.
Wherefore having practised this most beautiful art in the course of your
training, you now shine forth the more gloriously in the contest itself,
not only being in no wise disturbed by the things which are happening,
but rather elated, and leaping and dancing for joy. For the contests which
you have anticipated in your training you now undertake with much ease,
although it be in a woman's body, feebler than a cobweb, treading under
foot with derisive scorn the fury of lusty men gnashing their teeth upon
you; being ready to suffer even worse things than they prepare for you.
Happy and thrice happy are you by reason of the crowns of victory to be
won, but even more by reason of the contest itself. For such is the nature
of these struggles, even before the prizes are given even in the midst
of strife they have their recompense and reward;--the pleasure which you
are now enjoying, the cheerfulness, the courage, the endurance, the patience,
the power which is proof against capture and conquest and rises superior
to all things; the perfect training which renders you insensible to any
terror at the hands of any one, the power of standing on a rock in the
midst of mighty billows of tribulation, and sailing in a calm with a favourable
breeze when the sea is raging around you. These are the prizes of affliction
even in this world before the kingdom of heaven is won. For I know very
well that, even at this present time, being elated with joy, thou dost
not consider thyself clothed with a body, but if an opportunity should
summon thee to do it, thou wouldst divest thyself of it more readily than
others do of the raiment which they wear. Rejoice therefore and be glad
both for thyself, and for those who have died a blessed death, not in a
bed, nor in a house, but in prison, and chains, and torment; and bewail
those only who do these things, and grieve for them. But since you also
wish to be informed concerning my bodily health, let me tell you that I
have been relieved for the present from the infirmity which was lately
oppressing me, and am now in a more comfortable condition: the only fear
is lest the winter on its return should again make havoc of my feeble digestion;
and as far as the Isaurians are concerned we now enjoy great security.
The following letter is added as a specimen, out
of a very large number, of the natural, almost playful style, and tone
of warm affection, in which Chrysostom wrote to his intimate friends. All
his extant letters were written during his exile, and therefore there is
much repetition in their contents, and great general similarity of character.
304
TO CASTUS, VALERIUS, DIOPHANTUS, CYRIACUS,
PRESBYTERS OF ANTIOCH.
I AM not surprised that you call my long letter a short one. For this is just the way with lovers; they do not recognize such a thing as satiety, they will not admit such a thing as satisfaction, but the more they receive from the objects of their love the more they seek. Therefore, even if the letter which you have received had been ten times as large as the former one, it would not have escaped the epithet of "brief;" in fact it would have been called a small letter, and not only would it have been so called, but it would have actually seemed such in your eyes. Hence I also in my turn am never satisfied with the measure of affection for me which you have attained, but am always seeking to make additions to your love-draught, and daily demanding the discharge of your love debt which is always being paid, and yet is always owing (for it is written, "owe no man anything but to love one another"(1)). I am indeed continually receiving what I ask in great abundance, yet never think that I have received the whole. Do not cease then to pay down this goodly debt, which has a twofold pleasure. For those who pay, and those who receive, derive equal enjoyment, inasmuch as they are both alike enriched by the payment; which in the case of money is an impossibility, for there the one who pays becomes poorer, and only the man who has received is richer. But this is not what commonly happens in the covenant of love. For he who pays it is not less bereft of it, as in the case of money when it is transferred to the receiver; but payment of love makes him who pays richer than before. Knowing these things then, O Sirs, most honoured and devout, cease not continually displaying this excellent disposition towards me. For although you need no exhortation for this purpose from me yet as I greatly long for your love I remind you, even when you need it not, both in order that you may constantly write to me, and also inform me of the state of your health. For even if you do not need any one to remind you on this account, I shall not desist from continually seeking this at your hands; as it is a matter which I have very much at heart. That it is a difficult task owing both to the season of the year, and the difficulty of the journey, and the scarcity of travellers who will do this service for you I am well aware: nevertheless as far as is possible and practicable in the midst of so much difficulty, we exhort you to write constantly, and crave this favour from your love.
CORRESPONDENCE OF ST. CHRYSOSTOM
WITH THE BISHOP OF ROME.
LETTER FROM ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM TO INNOCENT, BISHOP OF ROME.
TO MY LORD, THE MOST REVEREND AND DIVINELY BELOVED BISHOP INNOCENT, JOHN SENDS GREETING IN THE LORD.
1. I SUPPOSE that even before receiving our letter your Piety has heard of the iniquity which has been perpetrated here. For the magnitude of our distress has left scarcely a single portion of the world uninformed of this grievous tragedy: for report carrying the tidings of what has happened to the very extremities of the earth, has everywhere caused great mourning and lamentation. But inasmuch as we ought not to mourn, but to restore order, and to see by what means this most grievous storm of the Church may be stayed, we have deemed it necessary to persuade my lords, the most honoured and pious bishops Demetrius, Pansophius, Pappus and Eugenius to leave their own churches, and venture on this great sea voyage, and set out on a long journey from home, and hasten to your Charity, and, after informing you clearly of everything, to take measures for redressing the evils as speedily as possible. And with them we have sent the most honoured and beloved of our Deacons, Paulus and Cyriacus, but we also ourselves, in the form of a letter, will briefly instruct your Charity concerning the things which have come to pass. For Theophilus, who has been entrusted with the presidency of the Church in Alexandria, having been commanded to repair alone to Constantinople, certain men having brought an accusation against him to the most devout Emperor, arrived bringing with him no small multitude of Egyptian Bishops, as if wishing to show from the outset, that he came for war and antagonism; moreover when he set foot in the great and divinely beloved Constantinople he did not enter the Church according to the custom and the law which has prevailed from ancient time, he held no intercourse with us, and admitted us to no share in his conversation, his prayers, or his society: but as soon as he disembarked, having hurried past the vestibule of the Church, he departed and lodged somewhere outside the city, and although we earnestly entreated him, and those who had come with him, to be our guests (for everything had been made ready, and lodgings provided, and whatever was suitable) neither they, nor he consented. We seeing this, were in great perplexity, not being able to discover the cause of this unjust hostility; nevertheless we discharged our part, doing what became us, and continually beseeching him to meet us and to say for what cause he hazarded so great a contest at the outset, and threw the city into such confusion. But as he did not choose to state the reason, and those who accused him were urgent, our most devout Emperor summoned us and commanded us to go outside the walls to the place where Theophilus was sojourning, and hear the argument against him. For they accused him of assault, and slaughter and countless other crimes; but knowing as we did the laws of the fathers, and paying respect and deference to the man, and having also his own letters which prove that lawsuits ought not to be taken beyond the border, but that the affairs of the several provinces should be treated within the limits of the province, we would not accept the office of judge, but deprecated it with great earnestness. But he, as if striving to aggravate the former insults, having summoned my arch-
310
deacon, by a stretch of arbitrary power, as if the Church were already
widowed, and had no bishop, by means of this man seduced all the clergy
to his own side; and the Churches became destitute, as the clergy in each
were gradually withdrawn, and instructed to hand in petitions against us,
and trained to prepare accusations. And having done this he sent and summoned
us to trial, although he had not yet cleared himself of the charges brought
against him, a proceeding directly contrary to the canons and to all the
laws.
2. But we being aware that we were not cited to
a trial (for otherwise we would have presented ourselves any number of
times) but to the presence of an enemy and an adversary, as was clearly
proved by all which occurred both before and after, despatched certain
bishops to him, Demetrius of Pesinus, Eulysius of Apamea, Lupicinus of
Appiaria,(1) and the presbyters Germanus and Severus, who replied with
the moderation which became us, and said, that we did not decline to be
judged, but to appear before an open enemy, and manifest adversary. For
how could one who had not yet received any bills of indictment against
me, and had acted from the outset in the manner described, and severed
himself from the Church, from communion, and from prayer, and was training
accusers, and seducing the clergy, and desolating the Church, how, I say,
could he with justice mount the throne of the judge which was not in any
sense befitting him? For it is not suitable that one who belongs to Egypt
should act as judge of those who are in Thrace, and this a man who is himself
under an accusation, and an enemy and adversary. Nevertheless he, in no
way abashed, but hurrying on to the completion of his design, although
we had declared our readiness to clear ourselves of the charges in the
presence of a hundred yea or a thousand bishops, and to prove ourselves
innocent as indeed we are, would not consent: but in our absence, when
we were appealing to a synod, and demanding a trial, and not shrinking
from a hearing of our cause, but only from open enmity, he both received
our accusers and absolved those who had been excommunicated by me, and
from them, who had not yet cleared themselves of the offences laid to their
charge, he received complaints(2) against me, and had minutes made of the
proceedings, all which things are contrary to law, and the order of the
canons. But what need is there of a long story? He did not cease doing
and contriving everything until, with all possible display of arbitrary
power and authority, he ejected us from the city and the church, when the
evening was far advanced and all the people were streaming after us. Being
drawn by the public informer(3) through the midst of the city, and dragged
along by force I was taken down to the sea, and thrust on board ship, and
made a night voyage, because I appealed to a synod for a just hearing of
my cause. Who could hear these things without tears, even if he had a heart
of stone?
But seeing, as I said before, that we ought not
merely to lament the evils which have been done, but also to amend them,
I beseech your Charity to rouse yourself and have compassion, and do everything
so as to put a stop to the mischief at this point. For even after what
I have mentioned he did not desist from his deeds of iniquity, but sought
to renew the former attack. For when the most devout Emperor had turned
out those who shamelessly rushed into the Church, and many of the Bishops
present seeing their iniquity had retreated into their own dioceses, flying
from the incursion of these men as from a fire devouring all things, we
were again invited to the city, and to the Church, from which we had been
unjustly expelled, more than thirty bishops introducing us, and our most
pious Emperor sending a notary for this purpose, while Theophilus immediately
took to flight. For what purpose, and from what cause? When we entered
the city we besought our most pious Emperor to convene a synod for prosecuting
the offenders in the late transactions. Being conscious therefore of what
he had done, and dreading conviction, the imperial letters having been
sent in every direction, convoking all men froth all quarters, Theophilus
secretly at midnight flung himself into a boat, and so made his escape,
taking all his company with him.
3. But even then we did not desist, supported as
we were by a clear conscience, from making the same supplication again
to the most devout Emperor: and he, acting as became his piety, sent to
Theophilus again, summoning him from Egypt, and his associates, in order
to give an account of the late proceedings, and informing him that he was
not to suppose that the one-sided deeds which he had so unjustly perpetrated
in our absence, and in violation of so many canons, would suffice for his
defence. He did not however submit to the royal mandate, but remained at
home, alleging an insurrection of the people in excuse, and the unseasonable
zeal of cer-
311
tain persons who were attached to him, as he pretended: and yet before
the arrival of the imperial letters this same people had deluged him with
abuse. But we do not make much of these matters now, but have said what
we have said as wishing to prove the fact that he was arrested in his mischievous
course. Yet even after these things we did not rest, but were urgent in
our demand that a tribunal should be formed for the purpose of enquiry
and defence: for we said that we were ready to prove that we ourselves
were guiltless, but that they had flagrantly transgressed. For there were
some Syrians amongst those present with him at that time, who were left
behind here; and we accosted them expressing our readiness to plead our
cause, and frequently importuned them on this behalf, demanding that the
minutes (of the late transactions) should be given up to us, or that the
formal bills of indictment, or the nature of the charges, or the accusers
themselves, should be made known; and yet we did not obtain any of these
things, but were again expelled from the Church. How am I to relate the
events which followed, transcending as they do every kind of tragedy? What
language will set forth these events? what kind of ear will receive them
without shuddering? For when we were urging these things, as I said before,
a dense troop of soldiers, on the great Sabbath itself,(1) as the day was
hastening towards eventide, having broken into the Churches violently drove
out all the clergy who were with us, and surrounded the sanctuary with
arms. And women from the oratories(2) who had stripped themselves for baptism
just at that time, fled unclothed, from terror at this grievous assault,
not being permitted to put on the modest apparel which befits women; indeed
many received wounds before they were expelled, and the baptismal pools
were filled with blood, and the sacred water reddened by it. Nor did the
distress cease even at this point; but the soldiers, some of whom as we
understand were unbaptized, having entered the place where the sacred vessels
were stored, saw all the things which were inside it, and the most holy
blood of Christ, is might happen in the midst of such confusion, was spill
upon the garments of the soldiers aforesaid: and every kind of outrage
was committed as in a barbarian siege. And the common people were driven
to the wilderness, and all the people tarried outside the city, and the
Churches became empty in the midst of this great Festival, and more than
forty bishops who associated with us were vainly and causelessly expelled
together with the people and clergy. And there were shrieks and lamentations,
and torrents of tears were shed everywhere, in the market places, in the
houses, in the desert places, and every part of the city was filled with
these calamities; for owing to the immoderate extent of the outrage not
only the sufferers, but also they who did not undergo anything of the kind
sympathized with us, not only those who held the same opinions as ours.
but also heretics, and Jews, and Greeks, and all places were in a state
of tumult and confusion, and lamentation, as if the city had been captured
by force. And these things were perpetrated contrary to the intention of
our most pious Emperor, under cover of night, the Bishops contriving them,
and in many places conducting the attack, nor were they ashamed to have
sergeants(3) instead of deacons marching in front of them. And when day
dawned all the city was migrating outside the walls under trees and groves,
celebrating the festival, like scattered sheep.
4. All which happened afterwards I leave you to
imagine; for as I said before it is not possible to describe each separate
incident. The worst of it is that these evils, great and serious as they
are, have not even now been suppressed nor is there any hope of their suppression;
on the contrary the mischief is extending itself every day, and we have
become a laughing stock to the multitude, or rather I should say, no one
laughs even if he is infinitely lawless, but all men mourn, as I was saying,
this new kind of lawlessness, the finishing stroke of all our ills.
What is one to say to the disorders in the other
Churches? For the evil did not stop even here, but made its way to the
east. For as when some evil humor is discharged from the head, all the
other parts are corrupted, so now also these evils, having originated in
this great city as from a fountain, confusion has spread in every direction,
and clergy have everywhere made insurrection against bishops, there has
been schism between bishop and bishop, people and people, and will be yet
more; every place is suffering from the throes of calamity, and the subversion
of the whole civilized world. Having been informed then of all these things,
my lords, most honourable and devout, exhibit the courage and zeal which
becomes you, so as to put a stop to this great assault of lawlessness which
has been made upon the Churches. For if this
312
custom were to prevail, and it became lawful for any persons who desired
it to enter strange dioceses, so widely separated, and expel those whom
one wished to remove, and do whatever they pleased according to their own
arbitrary power, be assured that all things will go to ruin, and an implacable
kind of war will overrun the whole world, all men attacking others, and
being in turn attacked. Therefore to prevent such confusion overtaking
the whole earth yield to our entreaties that ye will signify by writing
that these lawless transactions executed in our absence, and after hearing
one side only, although we did not decline a trial, are invalid, as indeed
they are by the very nature of the case, and that those who are convicted
of having committed such iniquities must be subjected to the penalty of
the ecclesiastical laws; and for ourselves, who have not been detected
or convicted, or proved liable to punishment may we continue to have the
benefit of your correspondence, and your love, and all other things which
we have enjoyed aforetime. But if even now those who have committed such
lawless acts are willing to disclose the charges on the strength of which
they have unjustly expelled us, neither memoranda, nor formal bills of
indictment being given, nor the accusers having appeared: yet if an impartial
tribunal is formed, we will submit to be tried, and will make our defence,
and prove ourselves guiltless of the things laid to our charge, as indeed
we are: for the things which they have done are outside the bounds of every
kind of order and every kind of ecclesiastical law and canon And why do
I say ecclesiastical canon? Not even in the heathen courts would such audacious
deeds ever have been committed, or rather not even in a barbarian court,
neither Scythians, nor Sarmatians would ever have judged a cause in this
fashion, deciding it after hearing one side only, in the absence of the
accused, who only deprecated enmity, not a trial of his case, who was ready
to call any number of judges, asserting himself to be innocent and able
to clear himself of the charges in the face of the world, and prove himself
guiltless in every respect.
Having considered therefore all these things, and
having been clearly informed of all particulars by my lords, our most devout
brethren the bishops, may you be induced to exert your zeal on our behalf;
for in so doing ye will confer a favour not upon ourselves alone but also
upon the Church at large, and ye will receive your reward from God who
does all things for the peace of the Churches. Fare thee well always, and
pray for me, most honoured and holy master.
TO INNOCENT, BISHOP OF ROME, GREETING IN THE LORD.
OUR body it is true is settled in one place, but the pinion of love wings its way round every part of the world. Even so we also although we be separated by a journey of such great extent are nigh to your Piety, and in daily communion with you, beholding with the eyes of love the courage of your soul, the sterling nature of your disposition, your firmness and inflexibility, the great consolation, constant and abiding, which you bestow upon us. For in proportion as the billows mount higher, and concealed reefs increase, and the hurricanes are many does your vigilance wax stronger: and neither the great length of the journey between us, nor the large amount of time consumed, nor the difficulty in dealing with events has disposed you to become supine: but ye continue to imitate the best class of pilots who are on the alert at those times most especially when they see the waves crested, the sea swelling, the water dashing vehemently, and the deepest darkness in day-time. Therefore also we feel great gratitude towards you, and we long to send you showers of letters, thus affording ourselves the greatest gratification. But since we are deprived of this, owing to the desolation of the place; (for not only of those who arrive from your regions, but even of those who dwell in our part of the world no one could easily have intercourse with us, both on account of the distance, the spot in which we are confined being situated at the very extremity of the country, and also the terror of robbers acting as a bar to the whole journey:) we beseech you rather to pity us because of our long silence, than to condemn us for indolence on that account. For as a proof that our silence has not been due to negligence, we have now at last after a long time secured our most honoured and beloved John the presbyter, and Paul the deacon, and we send a letter through them, and continue to express our gratitude to you, that you have surpassed even affectionate parents in your good will and zeal concerning us. And indeed so far as your Piety is concerned all. things would have been duly amended, and the accumulation of evils and offences have been swept away, and the Churches would have enjoyed peace and a glassy calm, and all things would have floated along with a smooth stream, and the despised laws and violated decrees of the fathers would have been vindicated. But since in reality none of these things has taken place, they who perpetrated the former deeds striving to aggravate their
313
former iniquities, I omit any detailed narrative of their subsequent proceedings: for the narrative would exceed the limits not merely of a letter but even of a history; only this I beseech your vigilant soul, even if they who have filled everything with confusion be impenitently and incurably corrupt, let not those who have undertaken to cure them become faint-hearted or despondent, when they consider the magnitude of the thing to be accomplished. For the contest now before you has to be fought on behalf of nearly the whole world, on behalf of Churches humbled to the ground, of people dispersed, of clergy assaulted, of bishops sent into exile, of ancestral laws violated. Wherefore we beseech your Diligence, once, twice, yea many times, in proportion as the storm increases, to manifest still greater zeal. For we expect that something more will be done for the purpose of amending these wrongs. But even if this should not take place, ye at least have your crown made ready for you by the merciful God, and the resistance offered by your love will be no small consolation to those who are wronged: for now that we are passing the third year of our sojourn in exile exposed to famine, pestilence, wars, continual sieges, indescribable solitude, daily death, and Isaurian swords, we are not a little encouraged and comforted by the constant and abiding nature of your disposition and confidence, and by revelling in your abundant and genuine love, This is our wall of defence, this is our security, this our calm haven, this our treasure of infinite blessings, this our gladness, and ground of much joy. And even if we should be carried off again to some spot more desolate than this, we shall carry this love away with us as no small consolation of our sufferings.
TO THE BELOVED BROTHER JOHN, INNOCENT.
ALTHOUGH the innocent man ought to expect all good things, and to crave mercy from God, nevertheless we also, counselling resignation, have sent an appropriate letter by the hands of Cyriacus the deacon; so that insolence may not have more power in oppressing, than a good conscience has in retaining hope. For thou who art the teacher and pastor of so many people needest not to be taught that the best men are ever frequently put to the test whether they will persevere in the perfection of patience, and not succumb to any toil of distress: and certainly conscience is a strong defence against all things which unjustly befall us: and unless any one conquer these by patient endurance he supplies an argument for evil surmising. For he ought to endure all things who trusts first of all in God, and then in his own conscience; seeing that the noble and good man can be specially trained to endurance, inasmuch as the holy Scriptures guard his mind; and the sacred lessons which we deliver to the people abound in examples, testifying as they do that nearly all the saints have been continually oppressed in divers ways, and are tested as by a kind of scrutiny, and so attain to the crown of patience. Let conscience itself console thy love, most honoured brother, which in affliction supplies the consolation of virtue. For under the eye of the Master Christ, the conscience, having been purged, will find rest in the haven of peace.
INNOCENT, BISHOP, TO PRESBYTERS AND DEACONS, AND TO ALL THE CLERGY AND PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE, THE BRETHREN BELOVED WHO ARE SUBJECT TO THE BISHOP JOHN, GREETING.
FROM the letters of your love which ye have sent by the hands of Germanus the presbyter, and Casianus the deacon, I have studied with anxious care the scene of calamity which ye have placed before my eyes, and by repeated perusal of your description I thoroughly perceived under what great distress and toil your faith is labouring: and this is a matter which can be cured only by the consolation of patience: for our God will speedily grant an end to such great afflictions, and He will aid you in your endurance of these things. Moreover whilst praising the statement of your case which contains many testimonies encouraging to patience I notice this necessary consolation placed at the beginning of the epistle of your love: for the consolation which we ought to have written to you, ye have anticipated by your letter. For this is the kind of patience which our Master is wont to supply to those who are in distress, in order that the servants of Christ when they are in affliction may console themselves by reflecting that the things which they themselves are suffering have happened to the saints also in former times. And we also from your letter shall be able to derive consolation: for we are not estranged from sympathy with you, inasmuch as we also are chastised in your persons. For who will be able to endure the offences committed by those men who ought to be specially zealous promoters of the tranquillity of the Church and of concord itself. At the present time, by a perversion of custom, guiltless priests are expelled from the presidency of their own
314
Churches. And this is what your chief brother, and fellow minister, John, your bishop has unjustly suffered, not having obtained any hearing: no crime is charged against him, none is heard. And what is the object of this iniquitous device? that no pretext for a trial may occur, or be sought, other men are introduced into the places of living priests, as if those who start from an offence of this description could be judged by any one to have anything good or to have done anything right. (1) For we understand that such deeds have never been perpetrated by our fathers or rather that they were prevented by the fact that no one had authority given him to ordain another to take the place of one who was still living. For a spurious ordination cannot deprive the priest of his rank: seeing that neither can he be a bishop who is wrongfully substituted for another. And as regards the observance of the canons we lay it down that we ought to follow those, which were defined at Nicaea, to which alone the Catholic Church is bound to pay obedience and recognition. And if others are brought forward by certain men, which are at variance with the canons framed at Nicaea, and are proved to have been composed by heretics, let them be rejected by the Catholic bishops. For the inventions of heretics ought not to be appended to the Catholic canons; for by their adverse and unlawful decrees they are always intending to weaken the design of the canons of Nicaea. Not only therefore do we say that these ought not to be followed, but rather that they should be condemned amongst heretical and schismatic decrees, as was formerly done in the Council of Sardica by the bishops who were before us. (2) For it were more fitting, most honoured brethren, that good deeds should be condemned than that things done in direct opposition to the canons should have any validity. But what are we to do against such things at the present time? A synodical decision of them is necessary, and we have long declared that a synod ought to be convened, as it is the only means of allaying the agitation of such tempests as these: and if we obtain this it is expedient that the healing of these evils should be committed to the will of the great God, and His Christ our Lord. All the disturbances then which have been caused by the envy of the devil for the probation of the faithful will be mitigated; through the firmness of our faith we ought not to despair of anything from the Lord. For we ourselves also are considering much by what means the oecumenical synod may be brought together in order that by the will of God these disturbing movements may be brought to an end. Let us therefore endure for a while, and fortified by the wall of patience let us hope that all things may be restored to us by the assistance of our God. Moreover all things which ye say ye have undergone we have learned by accurate enquiry from our fellow bishops who have already taken refuge in Rome, although for the most part at different times, that is to say, Demetrius, Cyriacus, Eulysius and Palladius, who are here with us.
321
at last he thus expresses himself in a manner certainly worthy of observation.
"But since our discourse has now turned to the subject of blasphemy, I
desire to ask one favour of you all in return for this address and speaking
with you, which is, that you will correct on my behalf those who blaspheme
in this city. And should you hear any one in the public thoroughfare, or
in the midst of the forum, blaspheming God; go up to him, rebuke him; and
should it be necessary to inflict blows, spare not to do so. Smite him
on the face; strike his mouth; sanctify thy hand with the blow." Which
truly would be a mode of correction not suited to modern usage.
The second Homily, Tillemont refers either to the
Thursday or to the Saturday before Lent; but it may more safely be pronounced
to have been spoken "about" that time, seven days having been completed
as Chrysostom himself says, since the sedition, during which he declares
that he had been silent, because the people of Antioch, being in consternation
from the mighty calamity and from the immensity of the danger, were in
no fit state for the hearing of Sermons; moreover, that this evil was one
sent from God, on account of their having neglected the correction of their
blaspheming brethren; and after he has drawn a beautiful picture of their
state, he concludes the discourse, after having preached at length on riches,
the use of riches, alms-giving, and poverty.
The third Homily follows close on the second. But
we suppose with Tillemont, that it was delivered on Quinquagesima Sunday
(to speak according to modern custom). Chrysostom treats here of the departure
of Flavian the Bishop of Antioch to Constantinople for the purpose of appeasing
the Emperor, and consoles the people with the hope of his succeeding. He
then proves at length that there is no utility in fasting, unless there
be an abstinence from vices. But after making a few remarks on avoiding
slander, he deplores the present calamity, and relates some harsh severities.
"Some," saith he, "have perished by the sword, some by fire; some given
to wild beasts; and not men only but children. And neither this immaturity
of age, nor the tumult of the people, nor the circumstance that they were
infuriated by demons when they perpetrated such deeds, nor that the exaction
was thought to be intolerable, nor poverty, nor having offended in company
with all, nor promising that they would never hereafter dare to repeat
such deeds, nor any thing else could at all rescue them; but they were
led away to the pit without reprieve, armed soldiers conducting and guarding
them on either side, lest any one should carry off the criminals; whilst
mothers also followed afar off, seeing their children beheaded, but not
daring to bewail their calamity; for terror conquered grief, and fear overcame
nature."
All these evils were inflicted on the people of
Antioch by the Prefects or Magistrates before Theodosius had heard any
thing of the sedition, as Chrysostom says in the same place. But he concludes
the address by admonishing that they should abstain from slander, from
enmities, and from oaths.
The fourth Homily, delivered as it seems on the
Monday, which was the beginning of Lent, describes the advantages gained
from the calamity. He speaks of the people of Antioch as changed and brought
back from their former habits. But at the close he again repeats the same
admonition, which he reminds them that he had given in the foregoing Homily,
that is to say, concerning slanders, enmities, and oaths. But in No. (6.),
he says, that he should speak throughout this week concerning oaths.
The fifth Homily was pronounced on the day following,
that is, on the Tuesday, as Chrysostom says at the beginning of it. In
this Chrysostom consoles the people of Antioch as usual, under their sadness,
and exhorts them to a contempt for death. In the end also he treats No.
(7.) of the avoidance of oaths, and indicates somewhat of the order of
the foregoing and following Homilies in these words. "Let us therefore
persuade it (our soul) to make this first change for the better by the
avoidance of oaths; for although I spake to
322
you yesterday and the day before(1) on this same subject, yet neither
to-day, nor to-morrow, nor the day after, will I desist from giving my
counsel on this subject."
In the sixth Homily, delivered on the Wednesday
of the first week, he imparts consolation to the afflicted, and urges them
to hope for a prosperous turn of affairs. He speaks of the delays the messengers
had met with, who were gone to announce to the Emperor the sedition at
Antioch, as proceeding from God; and from thence deduces a favourable hope
for his hearers, and bids them feel confidence of obtaining pardon by the
petition of Flavian the Bishop; and after he had discoursed on the subject
of not being afraid of death, he again speaks as usual against oaths.
The seventh Homily was delivered, as is evident
from many indications, on the day following. "It is the fifth day," says
Chrysostom, "we are engaged in speaking words of comfort to your charity."
But this fifth day is reckoned by beginning from the Sunday, so that he
must be speaking of the fifth day of the week. He here treats of the first
words of Genesis, "In the beginning God made heaven and earth;" and he
observes, that God is not only good when He chastises, but also when He
confers favours;(2) and concludes by exhorting to avoid oaths.
The eighth Homily Tillemont supposes to have been
spoken on the day following the seventh Homily, that is, on the Friday.
But Chrysostom disclaims it, who testifies at the outset that he discoursed
on the passage, "In the beginning God made heaven and earth, lately" (<greek>Prwhn</greek>)
not yesterday (<greek>kqes</greek>), which without doubt belongs
to the seventh Homily. Therefore the present Homily is to be assigned to
the Saturday;(3) which these words just immediately after the beginning
would also incline us to think. "The week hath nearly arrived at its close
with us." The argument of the Homily he draws from these words, "God was
walking in Paradise in the cool of the day." On this he observes the wicked
are always timid and fearful, but the godly full of confidence. Finally,
he treats according to his custom of the avoiding of oaths, and says, that
it is now the sixth day since he had been admonishing as to the observance
of this law.
The ninth Homily Tillemont with probability allots
to the Monday of the second week in Lent. But as to this matter no indication
presents itself by which we may lay down any thing certain or probable.
This discourse was, however, delivered after a silence of one or more days,
as Chrysostom expressly states(4) at the beginning; contrary to which is
the opinion of Tillemont, who, whilst he allots the eighth Homily to the
Friday of one week, and the ninth to the Monday of the week following,
says in the Life of Chrysostom, Art. (15.), that the intervening Sabbaths
and Lord's days were doubtless distinguished by discourses of Chrysostom,
which discourses have been lost. Chrysostom, at the commencement of this,
praises the people of Antioch, that yielding to his admonitions they were
taking pains to expel the practice of oaths. On these words also, "The
heavens declare the glory of God," he speaks at length, and sets forth
God's providence in the order and harmony of the natural world, and at
length he concludes the address by admonishing that oaths should be abstained
from.
The tenth Homily was not delivered on the day following
the ninth, although it follows up the same argument, as is shewn by the
word, <greek>Prwhn</greek> "lately." But Chrysostom here congratulates
his auditors that they had yielded to his admonitions. He declares it is
far better to hear the word of God than to fast. He then proves that the
world could not pos-
323
sibly subsist without a divine Providence, and he ends, at length, by
an exhortation to abstain from oaths.
The eleventh Homily, Tillemont supposes to have
been delivered after that which here has the inscription of the fifteenth,
as well as after the sixteenth which follows it. The argument he employs
is this; In this Homily he says, the subject is concerning certain dangers
and distresses which the city of Antioch had already passed through, which
events seem to have taken place after the arrival of Hellebichus and Caesarius.
But that arrival of Hellebichus and Caesarius is mentioned in the Title
of the seventeenth Homily,(1) long after the eleventh of which we are now
treating.
Supported by this argument, Tillemont thinks that
not only the fifteenth, but also the sixteenth ought to be placed before
the eleventh. But besides that all the Manuscripts, without exception,
preserve the very same order as the published Editions, we have not a sufficiently
accurate knowledge of all the events, the dangers, terrors, and threats
of the time, that for a reason of this sort we should deem there ought
to be any change in the order. Chrysostom has spoken of many things, but
was perhaps silent on many more. Wherefore, until something more certain
be brought to light, we think the ancient order must be adhered to. In
this Homily Chrysostom at the beginning gives thanks, because the city
breathed again after the terror that had fallen on it, since multitudes
had taken flight in consequence of suspicions that had been thrown out
among them. For some days Chrysostom was silent (as he himself says) during
this season of calamity and terror. But Tillemont assigns this Homily to
the Monday of the fourth week in Lent, and indeed with the best reason,
as we shall shew when we come to the thirteenth Homily. In the present
Homily he treats principally of the wisdom of God in the constitution of
man, and at the end concerning the avoiding of oaths.
The twelfth, as well as the thirteenth, for the
same reason as above, Tillemont makes later than the fifteenth and sixteenth.
But I know not in what way he understands that passage in this twelfth
Homily, No. (2.) "On the three foregoing days, then, we have investigated
one method of acquiring the knowledge of God, and have brought it to a
conclusion, explaining how 'the' visible 'heavens declare the glory of
God,' and what is the meaning of that which is said by Paul; 'The invisible
things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood
by the things that are made;' and we have shewed how from the creation
of the world, and how by heaven, and earth, and sea, the Creator is glorified.
But to-day," etc. Here Chrysostom clearly refers to a series of these Homilies
in the order in which they were delivered before the twelfth, that is to
say, the ninth, the tenth, and the eleventh. In the ninth (No. 2.) he places
as the argument of his discourse the saying of Paul, "The invisible things
of Him," etc. as well as that of the Psalms, "The heavens declare the glory
of God." In the tenth (No. 2.) likewise he declares that he is pursuing
this very argument. In the eleventh (No. 2.) also he testifies that he
is insisting on the same argument. Is not Tillemont doing violence to the
words of Chrysostom, when he wishes the tenth and the eleventh to be inserted
between the fifteenth and sixteenth? This, however, he only proposes, half
doubtingly, in note(29) on the Emperor Theodosius, No. 10, 11 seqq. and
he confesses, that the order which we have laid down is clearly indicated
by Chrysostom; but for what reason I know not, he afterwards departs from
the same order. But when Chrysostom says, "on the three past days," it
is not to be understood of three successive days, but of the three last
days on which he had preached. In this twelfth Homily, likewise, which
was delivered on the Tuesday of the fourth week, he dwells on the same
subject of the wisdom of God in the creation of the
324
world. He afterwards treats of the natural law, the knowledge of which
God hath implanted in man, and on the avoidance of oaths.
The thirteenth Homily was spoken the day after the
twelfth. At the commencement he returns thanks to God that the face of
affairs was changed, and the fear removed, which had been such that "the
greater part of the city," as he says, "had taken refuge from the fear
and danger of that occasion in secret places, in deserts, and hollows."
Hence he proceeds to speak of many who were dragged to the tribunal; of
the horrible inquisition that took place by means of the scourge; of others
who were hurried away to punishment; of a mother and sister of a certain
person, who, whilst he was undergoing his trial within, were rolling in
the dust at the vestibule. Chrysostom describes pathetically these events
which had been transacted a few days before, that is to say, before he
delivered the eleventh discourse. But the words which Chrysostom uses in
the beginning, <greek>oian</greek> <greek>shn</greek> <greek>Pa</greek>s232><greek>elqousan</greek>
<greek>eidomen</greek> <greek>tetrada</greek> <greek>kai</greek>
<greek>oian</greek> <greek>thn</greek> <greek>Parousan</greek>
<greek>orpmen</greek> <greek>nun</greek>, Bernard Brixianus
thus renders, "Quale praeteritum vidimus quatriduum et quale nunc videmus
praesens:" I know not for what reason we have left this untouched. For
although <greek>tetras</greek> is sometimes taken to signify the
fourth day, yet in ecclesiastical language, even from the time of Clemens
Alexandrinus, <greek>tePras</greek> is the fourth day of the week,
so that the Translation should be corrected, and should stand, "Qualem
feriam quartam praeteritam vidimus," etc. In which it is declared, that
the Homily was delivered on the fourth day of the week, and that indeed
the fourth week in Lent, or perhaps the third, according to another mode
of reckoning; since for many ages downwards the Greeks call that the first
Sunday and week of the fast(1) which we call the first of Lent. But this
is only a question as to a name. The Homily was however delivered on the
fourth day of the week, and from the series of the Homilies, as well as
from the silence of Chrysostom, there seems plainly to be an interval of
some days between the tenth and eleventh Homilies. In this Homily, moreover,
after much premised on that calamity of Antioch, he comes down to the former
argument concerning man's creation, and concludes his discourse by an exhortation
after his manner on avoiding oaths.
The fourteenth Tillemont thinks ought to be placed
after the eighteenth; influenced by this reason, that Chrysostom says at
the beginning, "Not a little did the devil yesterday disturb our city,
but God hath also not a little comforted us again." These words, he observes,
denote that the arrival of Hellebichus, and of news from Constantinople,
had already occurred. But these are mere conjectures spoken at random.(2)
How many suspicions and terrors think you were cast abroad among the people
of Antioch, whilst they hung in doubt, and were ignorant to what result
so unhappy an affair might lead? But how can we possibly argue respecting
these terrors and reports, when we are doubtless ignorant of the greater
part of them, and have so obscure a perception of what we do know, that
we can scarcely gather from thence any indication of the time? This Homily
is almost wholly on the subject of avoiding oaths.
The fifteenth Homily, Tillemont would have it, was
delivered between the tenth and eleventh, both for the reasons above mentioned,
and because Chrysostom has these words at the commencement, "E<greek>dei</greek>
<greek>kai</greek> <greek>thmeron</greek> <greek>kai</greek>
<greek>tp</greek> <greek>Proterw</greek> <greek>sabbatw</greek>
<greek>ton</greek> <greek>Pen</greek> <greek>teri</greek>
<greek>nhsteias</greek> <greek>kinhsai</greek> <greek>logon</greek>.
"It had been right both to-day and on the former Sabbath, to let the discourse
turn on the subject of fasting." Where he understands the expression, <greek>tw</greek>
<greek>Proterw</greek>, as though it were <greek>tp</greek>
<greek>Prwtw</greek>,--the first Saturday in Lent, entertaining however
some doubts on the point. But we, as well as Bernard Brixianus, understand
it of the earlier or preceding one.(3) And we
325
have already proved in a former paragraph, that no other Homily can
be placed between the tenth and the eleventh. On the occasion of the dread
with which the people of Antioch(1) were affected, he enlarges on the advantage
of fear, and at the end he preaches against the custom of swearing, and
of requiring an oath from others.
The sixteenth Homily was delivered when all were
deliberating upon making their escape from the city, in consequence
of a certain report, that a sack was to take place. Tillemont endeavours
also to change the position of this Homily, and to place it between the
tenth and eleventh, which, however, as we have said in our remarks upon
the twelfth, it cannot admit of. Tillemont further supports his argument
by these words: in No. 6, the holy Doctor says, "We have passed through
the second week of the fast." He infers, therefore, that two weeks only
of the fast had passed away, and Tillemont on that ground determines,
that it ought to be moved out of its place. He supposes it was spoken on
the third Sunday in Lent, reckoning for the first Sunday that which preceded
the first day of the fast, which we call Quinquagesima Sunday. But what
if at Antioch at that time, that was called the first Sunday of Lent, which
according to modern custom occurs as the first within the fast?(2) For
the fast did begin the Monday after Quinquagesima, and now it begins on
the Wednesday, and the people of Antioch might not reckon that week for
the first week of Lent, just as we do not reckon it as so, and in that
way this Homily would have been delivered one week later, that is to say,
taking the Sunday after the modern custom. But even then a great difficulty
would remain, for this Homily would precede the thirteenth and following
ones. Certainly all these points are full of perplexity, as Tillemont himself
confesses, who is compelled to leave the question, without entirely coming
to any conclusion upon it. Perhaps familarity, and longer handling, will
add to our knowledge on so obscure a subject, which it is possible we may
be able to determine, in drawing up the life of Chrysostom at the end of
his works,(3) more clearly and accurately. For which reason we have purposely
determined to leave the matter doubtful. That one point only we contend
for, that this Homily cannot be placed between the tenth and eleventh,
for the reasons above mentioned. Certain things being premised as to the
timidity of the people of Antioch, and the avoiding of oaths, Chrysostom
borrows the argument of the Homily from those words of Paul, "Paul, a prisoner
of Jesus Christ, and Timothy our brother;" and shews that Paul was more
glorious from bonds, than from the power of miracles.
The seventeenth was delivered after Ellebichus,
or Hellebichus, (styled Magister Milltum), and Caesarius, (styled Magister),
the persons sent by the Emperor for the purpose of instituting an inquiry
into the sedition, had arrived at Antioch. This Hellebichus, Master of
the Horse or(4) Foot, is found mentioned elsewhere, and was distinguished
by a reputation for justice and clemency. Caesarius, also styled elsewhere
Master of the Offices, enjoyed a similar reputation for high character.
But this Homily was pronounced when the people of Antioch were almost free
from fear. "We expected," says Chrysostom (No. 1.), "innumerable horrors,
that the property of all was to be plundered; the habitations consumed,
together with their inmates; the city snatched away from the midst of the
world; and all its relics obliterated, and its soil ploughed up: but, lo!
all these things stood only in expectance, and came not actually to pass."
Next he relates how the monks descended from the mountains to Antioch,
that they might appease the judges, while at the same time all the Greek
philosophers deserted the city; and in what way also the priests strenuously
exerted
326
themselves on behalf of the people. He declares the penalties imposed
by the Emperor to be light and easy, and no matter of grief or complaint,
though the orchestra and public bath were closed, and the dignity of a
metropolis taken away from the city of Antioch. The true dignity of Antioch
was, that the disciples of Christ were first called Christians there; that
the people of Antioch had brought assistance to the saints at Jerusalem,
When struggling with famine; that not magnitude, but piety, is the ornament
of cities. Finally, however, he says that some were yet remaining in prison;
and that others were sent into exile. This Homily Tillemont assigns to
the fourth week of Lent, after Wednesday, but only from conjecture.(1)
The eighteenth Homily was spoken after half the
fast was over, as Chrysostom himself says at the beginning. But Tillemont
thinks it may probably be assigned to the fifth Sunday of Lent. He treats
moreover of the true reason for fasting; of contempt for riches; of godly
sorrow, &c.
The nineteenth Homily was delivered as the title
has it, <greek>th</greek> <greek>kuriakh</greek> <greek>thi</greek>
<greek>episwzomenhs</greek>, or as Fronto Ducaeus reads it, <greek>ths</greek>
<greek>swzomenms</greek>. Among the Cappadocians, <greek>epswzomenh</greek>
is Ascension Day, as Allatius says in his book on the Sundays and Weeks
of the Greeks, adding that the Sunday thus called is the fifth after Easter,(2)
i.e. the one which precedes the Ascension of our Lord. But Savile says
that it is(3) the first Sunday after Easter; from whence he got his information
I know not. Yet there seems no doubt that it was some one of the last Sundays
in Lent, or, as Tillemont supposes, Passion-Sunday, to which I rather incline.
Chrysostom, who had been, detained at home for some time by sickness, after
he has prefaced his subject with some remarks on the Festival of the Martyrs,
which had been just celebrated at Antioch, and on the arrival of the rustics,
speaks according to his custom against oaths, and illustrates their pernicious
effects by many examples.
Hitherto, in the number and order of the Homilies,
we have followed the editions of Savile and Fronto Ducaeus. But henceforth
it is otherwise; for that which follows as the twentieth in former editions,
is without doubt the twenty-first and last on the Statues. But the twenty-first
is a Catechesis, which we have placed second after another Catechesis,
which was inscribed as the first, as we remark in the Notice placed at
the end of the Homilies on the Statues, and in front of the Catechetical
Lectures; since this Catechesis ought to be placed entirely without the
series of the Homilies on the Statues. But the Homily, which is in former
editions the twenty-second, is without doubt the twentieth, which was delivered
ten days before Easter. Therefore we proceed in this order.
The twentieth Homily has these words in the title,
according to manuscripts mentioned by Fronto Ducaeus, and likewise in some
of ours, and particularly that in the Royal Library, numbered 1971. E<greek>lecqh</greek>
<greek>de</greek> <greek>pro</greek> <greek>deka</greek>
<greek>hmerwn</greek> <greek>ths</greek> <greek>aUiai</greek>
<greek>kai</greek> <greek>zwopoiou</greek> <greek>tou</greek>
K<greek>uriou</greek> <greek>hmwn</greek> I<greek>hsou</greek>
X<greek>ristou</greek> <greek>ek</greek> <greek>nekrwn</greek>
<greek>anastasews</greek>. "It was spoken ten days before the holy
and life-giving Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead." This
therefore is in perfect accordance with that saying of Chrysostom, a little
before the end of the Homily, "Forty days have passed away." This sermon
then was delivered on the Friday after the Sunday which we call Passion-Sunday.
For this day was the fortieth, beginning from the Monday after Quinquagesima,
which was the commencement of Lent. But it was likewise the tenth before
Easter, reckoning Easter itself with it. The Homily is almost throughout
against enmity and the remembrances of injuries, and at the close is, according
to Chrysostom's accustomed manner, directed against oaths.
The twenty-first Homily, which is the last on the Statues, seems,
from what he says just
327
at the beginning, to have been delivered on the very day of the Lord's Resurrection, and after the return of Flavian the Bishop; whose journey to the Emperor, and address to the same on behalf of the city's preservation, as well as the Emperor's reply full of lenity in which he pardons the citizens, are all particularly related by Chrysostom, occupying the whole of this discourse. But even until the return of Flavian, the people of Antioch were terrified by every day's reports, and fluctuated between hope and fear, as Chrysostom observes a little after the beginning.
HOMILIES OF ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM,
ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE,
ADDRESSED TO THE PEOPLE OF ANTIOCH,
CONCERNING THE STATUES.
HOMILY I. THE ARGUMENT.
This Homily was delivered in the Old Church(1) of Antioch, while St.
Chrysostom was yet a Presbyter, upon that saying of the Apostle,
1 Tim. v. 23, "Drink a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thy
often infirmities."
1. YE have heard the Apostolic voice, that trumpet
from heaven, that spiritual lyre! For even as a trumpet sounding a fearful
and warlike note, it both dismays the enemy, and arouses the dejected spirits
on its own side, and filling them with great boldness, renders those who
attend to it invincible against the devil! And again, as a lyre, that gently
soothes with soul-captivating melody, it puts to slumber the disquietudes
of perverse thoughts; and thus, with pleasure, instills into us much profit.
Ye have heard then to-day the Apostle discoursing to Timothy of divers
necessary matters! for he wrote to him as to the laying on of hands, saying,
"Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's sins."(2)
And he explained the grievous danger of such a trangression, by showing
that so men will undergo the punishment of the sins perpetrated by others,
in common with them, because they confer the power. on their wickedness
by the laying on of hands. Presently again he says, "Use a little wine
for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities." To-day also he has
discoursed to us concerning the subjection of servants, and the madness
of misers, as well as on the arrogance of the rich, and on various other
matters.
2. Since then it is impossible to go through every
part, what part of the words rehearsed would you have us select for the
subject of our address to your charity?(3) For as in a meadow, I perceive
in what has been read a great diversity of flowers; a multiplicity of roses
and violets, and of lilies not a few; and everywhere the various and copious
fruit of the Spirit is scattered around, as well as an abundant fragrance.
Yea, rather the reading of the divine Scriptures is not a meadow only,
but a paradise; for the flowers here have not a mere fragrance only, but
fruit too, capable of nourishing the soul. What part then of the things
rehearsed do you desire that we bring before you this day? Do you wish
what seems the more insignificant, and easy for any one to understand,
to be that which we should handle at present? To me, indeed, this seems
proper, and I doubt not you
332
will concur in this opinion. What then is this that might seem plainer
than anything else? What but that, which seems so easy, and obvious for
any one to say? Well l what is that? "Use a little wine for thy stomach's
sake, and thine often infirmities." Well then, let us employ the whole
of our discourse upon this subject; and this we would do, not for the love
of praise, nor because we study to exhibit powers of oratory (for the things
about to be spoken are not our own, but such as the grace of the Holy Spirit
may inspire); but in order that we may stir up those hearers who are too
listless, and may convince them of the greatness of the treasure of the
holy Scriptures; and that it is neither safe, nor free from peril, to run
through them hastily. For if indeed a text so simple and obvious as this
one, which seems to the multitude to contain nothing that need be insisted
on, should appear to afford us the means of abundant riches, and openings
toward the highest wisdom, much rather will those others, which at once
manifest their native wealth, satisfy those who attend to them with their
infinite treasures. Assuredly then, we ought not hastily to pass by even
those sentences of Scripture which are thought to be plain; for these also
have proceeded from the grace of the Spirit; but this grace is never small,
nor mean, but great and admirable, and worthy the munificence of the Giver.
3. Let us not therefore listen carelessly; since
even they who roast the metallic earth, when they have thrown it into the
furnace, not only take up the masses of gold, but also collect the small
particles with the utmost care. Inasmuch, then, as we likewise have to
roast(1) the gold drawn from the Apostolic mines, not by casting it into
the furnace, but by depositing it in the thoughts of your souls; not lighting
an earthly flame, but kindling the fire of the Spirit, let us collect the
little particles with diligence.(2) For if the saying be brief, yet is
its virtue great. For pearls too have their proper market, not owing to
the size of the substance, but the beauty of their nature. Even so is it
with the reading of the divine Scriptures; for worldly instruction rolls
forth its trifles in abundance, and deluges its hearers with a torrent
of vain babblings, but dismisses them empty-handed, and without having
gathered any profit great or small. Not so however is it with the grace
of the Spirit, but, on the contrary, by means of small sentences, it implants
divine wisdom in all who give heed, and one sentence often times affords
to those who receive it a sufficient source of provision for the whole
journey of life.(3)
4. Since then its riches are so great, let us arouse
ourselves, and receive that which is spoken with a watchful mind; for I
am preparing to plunge our discussion to an extreme depth. The admonition
itself hath no doubt seemed beside the purpose, and superfluous to many:
and they are apt to talk much in this way, "Was Timothy of himself not
able to judge what it was needful to make use of, and did he wait to learn
this of his teacher.(4) And then did the teacher not only give directions,
but also set them down in writing, graying it there as on a column of brass
in his Epistle to him? and was he not ashamed to give directions about
things of this nature, when writing in a public manner, to his disciple?"
For this end then, that thou mayest learn that the admonition, so far from
being beside the purpose, was a necessary and highly profitable one; and
that the thing proceeded not from Paul, but from the grace of the Spirit,
viz, that this should have been (I say) not a spoken precept, but one deposited
in letters, and to be handed down to all future generations through the
Epistle, I shall proceed at once to the proof.
5. For besides the subjects which have been mentioned,
there is another, about which some are no less perplexed, enquiring within
themselves on what account God permitted a man possessing such confidence
towards Him,(5) whose bones and relics expelled demons,(6) to fall into
such a state of infirmity; for it is not merely that he was sick, but constantly,
and for a length of time; and by these recurring and prolonged infirmities
he was not permitted to have even a brief respite. "How does this appear,"
it may be asked? From the very words of Paul, for he does not say, on account
of the "infirmity," but on account of the "infirmities;" and not merely
"infirmities," but he clearly speaks of these as being constant, when he
says "thine often infirmities." Let those then attend to this, whoever
they are, who being given over to a lingering(7) sickness are querulous
and dejected under it.
333
6. But the subject of enquiry is not only, that being
a holy man he was sick, and sick so continually, but that he was at the
same time entrusted with the public affairs of the world. For if he had
been one of those who have retreated to the tops of mountains; who have
fixed their cells in solitude, and who have chosen that life which is free
from all business, the matter now enquired into were no such difficulty;
but that one thrust forward in the throng, and in whose hands the care
of so many Churches was placed, and who superintended whole cities and
nations; nay, the world at large,(1) with so much alacrity and diligence,
should be subjected to the straitening of infirmities! This it is which
may most of all bewilder one who does not duly consider it. Because, even
if not for himself, yet for others at least, it was necessary he should
have health. "He was the best general," says the objector. "The war was
waged by him, not only against the unbeliever, but against demons, and
against the devil himself. All the enemy contended with much vehemence,
scattering the forces, and capturing prisoners;(2) but this man was able
to bring back myriads to the truth, and yet he was sick! For if," he says,
"no other injury to the cause had come of this sickness, yet this alone
was sufficient to discourage and relax the faithful. If soldiers, when
they see their general detained in bed, become discouraged and slack for
the fight, much rather was it probable that the faithful should betray
somewhat of human nature, when they saw that teacher, who had wrought so
many signs, in continual sickness and suffering of body."
7. But this is not all. These sceptics propose yet
a further enquiry, by asking for what reason Timothy neither healed himself,
nor was healed by his instructor, when he was reduced to this state. Whilst
the Apostles raised the dead, cast out devils, and conquered death with
abundant ease, they could not even restore the body of one sick man! Although
with respect to other bodies, both during their own lives and after death,
they manifested such extraordinary power, they did not restore a stomach
that had lost its vigour! And what is more than this, Paul is not ashamed,
and does not blush, after the many and great signs which he had displayed
even by a simple word; yet, in writing to Timothy, to bid him take refuge
in the healing virtue of wine drinking. Not that to drink wine is shameful.
God forbid! For such precepts belong to heretics; but the matter of astonishment
is, that he accounted it no disgrace not to be able, without this kind
of assistance, to set one member right when it was disordered. Nevertheless,
he was so far from being ashamed of this, that he has made it manifest
to all posterity.(3) You see then to what a depth we have brought down
the subject, and how that which seemed to be little, is full of innumerable
questions. Well then, let us proceed to the solution; for we have explored
the question thus deep, in order that, having excited your attention, we
might lay up the explanation in a safe storehouse.
8. But before I proceed to solve these questions,
permit me to say something of the virtue of Timothy, and of the loving
care of Paul. For what was ever more tender hearted than this man, who
being so far distant, and encircled with so many cares, exercised so much
consideration for the health of his disciple's stomach, and wrote with
exact attention about the correction of his disorder? And what could equal
the virtue of Timothy? He so despised luxury, and derided the sumptuous
table, as to fall into sickness from excessive austerity, and intense fasting.
For that he was not naturally so infirm a person, but had overthrown the
strength of his stomach by fasting and water drinking; you may hear Paul
himself carefully making this plain. For he does not simply say, "use a
little wine;" but having said before, "drink no longer water," he then
brings forward his counsel as to the drinking of wine. And this expression
"no longer" was a manifest proof, that till then he had drunk water, and
on that account was become infirm Who then would not wonder at his divine
wisdom and strictness? He laid hold on the very heavens, and sprang to
the highest point of virtue. And his Teacher testifies this, when he thus
speaks, "I have sent unto you Timothy, who is my beloved and faithful son
in the Lord;"(4) and when Paul calls him "a son," and a "faithful and beloved
son," these words are sufficient to show that he possessed every kind of
virtue. For the judgments of the saints are not given according to favour
or enmity, but are free from all prejudice. Timothy would not have been
so enviable, if he had been Paul's son naturally, as he was now admirable,
inasmuch as having no connection with him according to the flesh, he introduced
himself by the relationship of piety into the Apostle's adoption;
334
preserving the marks of his spiritual wisdom(1) with exactness in all
things. For even as a young bullock(2) linked to a bull, so he drew the
yoke along with him, to whatever part of the world he went: and did not
draw it the less on account of his youth, but his ready will made him emulate
the labours of his teacher. And of this, Paul himself was again a witness
when he said, "Let no man despise him, for he worketh the work of the Lord
as I also do."(3) See you how he bears witness, that the ardour of Timothy
was the very counterpart of his own?
9. Furthermore, in order that he might not be thought
to have said these things out of favour or kindness, he makes his hearers
themselves to be witnesses of the virtue of his son, when he says, "But
ye know the proof of him, that, as a son with a father, so he hath served
with me in the Gospel;"(4) that is, "ye have had experience of his virtue,
and of his approved soul." At the same time, however, that he had reached
to this height of good works, he did not thereby grow confident; but was
full of anxiety and fear, therefore also he fasted rigidly, and was not
affected as many are, who, when they have kept themselves to it but ten,
or perhaps twenty months,(5) straightway give up the matter altogether.
He, I say, was in no wise thus affected, nor did he say anything like this
to himself. "What further need have I of fasting? I have gotten the mastery
of myself; I have overcome my lusts; I have mortified my body; I have affrighted
demons; I have driven away the devil; I have raised the dead; I have cleansed
lepers; I am become terrible to the adverse powers; what further need have
I of fasting, or to seek safety from that quarter?" Anything like this
he did not say, he did not think of; but, in proportion as he abounded
with innumerable good works, so much the more did he fear and tremble.(6)
And he learnt this spiritual wisdom from his preceptor; for even he, after
he had been rapt into the third heaven, and transported to paradise; and
had heard unutterable words; and taken part in such mysteries; and traversed
the whole world, like some winged being, when he wrote to the Corinthians,
said, I fear "lest by any means having preached to others, I myself should
be a castaway."(7) And if Paul was afraid after so many signal good works;
he who was able to say, "The world is crucified unto me, and I unto the
world;"(8) much more does it become us to fear; and the rather in proportion
as we have stored up(9) numerous good works. For then the devil becomes
fiercer; then he is more savage, when he beholds us regulating our lives
with carefulness! When he sees the cargo of virtue stowed together, and
the lading become heavy, then he is in haste to accomplish a more grievous
shipwreck! For the insignificant and abject man, although he may be supplanted
and fall, brings not so great an injury to the common cause. But the man
who has been standing most conspicuously as it were on some eminence of
virtue, and who is one manifestly seen and known of all men, and admired
of all; when he is assaulted and falls, causes great ruin and loss. Not
only because he falls from this elevation but makes many of those who look
up to him more negligent. And as it is in the body, some other limb may
be destroyed without there being any great damage, but if the eyes be deprived
of sight, or the head be seriously injured, the whole body is rendered
useless; so also we must say of the saints, and of those who have performed
the highest good works; when such are extinguished, when they contract
any stain, they bring upon all the rest of the body a universal and, intolerable
injury!
10. Timothy then, being aware of all these things,
fortified himself on every side; for he knew that youth is an age of difficulty;
that it is unstable; easily deceived; very apt to slip; and requires an
exceedingly strong bridle. It is indeed a sort of combustible pile easily
catching anything from without, and quickly kindled; and for that reason
he took care to smother it on all sides; and strove to abate the
flame in every way. The steed(10) that was unmanageable and restive he
curbed with much vehemence, until he had tamed him of his wanton tricks;
until he had made him docile; and delivered him under entire control, into
the hands of that reason which is the charioteer. "Let the body,"
saith he, "be infirm; but let not the soul be infirm; let the flesh be
bridled; but let not the race of the spirit towards heaven be checked."
335
But moreover, one might especially wonder at the man for this, that
being thus diseased, and struggling with such an infirmity, he did not
become indifferent to God's business, but flew everywhere faster than those
who have sound and vigourous constitutions; now to Ephesus; now to Corinth;
often to Macedonia and Italy; appearing everywhere, by land and by sea,
with the Teacher, sharing in everything his struggles and continuous dangers;
while the spiritual wisdom of his soul was not put to shame by his bodily
infirmity. Such a thing is zeal for God! such lightness of wing does it
impart l For as with those who possess well-regulated and sound constitutions,
strength is of no avail, if the soul is abject, slothful, and stupid; so
with those who are reduced to extreme weakness, no hurt arises from their
infirmity, if the soul be noble and well awake.
11. The admonition however, and the counsel, such
as it is, appears to some to give authority for drinking wine too freely.
But this is not so. If indeed we closely investigate this very saying,
it rather amounts to a recommendation of abstinence. For just consider
that Paul did not at first, nor at the outset give this counsel. But when
he saw that all strength was overthrown, then he gave it; and even then
not simply, but with a certain prior limitation. He does not say merely,
"Use wine," but "a little" wine; not because Timothy needed this admonition
and advice, but because we need it. On this account, in writing to him,
he prescribes the measure and limit of wine-drinking for us; bidding him
drink just so much as would correct disorder; as would bring health to
the body, but not another disease. For the immoderate drinking of wine
produces not fewer diseases of body and of soul, than much drinking of
water, but many more, and more severe; bringing in as it does upon the
mind the war of the passions, and a tempest of perverse thoughts, besides
reducing the firmness of the body to a relaxed and flaccid condition. For
the nature of land that is long disturbed by a superabundance of water,
is not thereby so much dissolved, as the force of the human frame is enfeebled,
relaxed, and reduced to a state of exhaustion, by the continual swilling
of wine. Let us guard then against a want of moderation on either side,
and let us take care of the health of the body, at the same time that we
prune away its luxurious propensities. For wine was given us of God, not
that we might be drunken, but that we might be sober; that we might be
glad, not that we get ourselves pain. "Wine," it says, "maketh glad the
heart of man,"(1) but thou makest it matter for sadness; since those who
are inebriated are sullen beyond measure, and great darkness over-spreads
their thoughts. It is the best medicine, when it has the best moderation
to direct it. The passage before us is useful also against heretics, who
speak evil of God's creatures; for if it had been among the number of things
forbidden, Paul would not have permitted it, nor would have said it was
to be used. And not only against the heretics, but against the simple ones
among our brethren, who when they see any persons disgracing themselves
from drunkenness, instead of reproving such, blame the fruit given them
by God, and say, "Let there be no wine." We should say then in answer to
such, "Let there be no drunkenness; for wine is the work of God, but drunkenness
is the work of the devil. Wine maketh not drunkenness; but intemperance
produceth it. Do not accuse that which is the workmanship of God, but accuse
the madness of a fellow mortal. But thou, while omitting to reprove and
correct the sinner, treatest thy Benefactor with contempt!"
12. When, therefore, we hear men saying such things,
we should stop their mouths; for it is not the use of Wine, but the want
of moderation which produces drunkenness, Drunkenness! that root of all
evils. Wine was given to restore the body's weakness, not to overturn the
soul's strength; to remove the sickness of the flesh, not to destroy the
health of the spirit. Do not then, by using the gift of God immoderately,
afford a handle to the foolish and the impudent. For what is a more wretched
thing than drunkenness! The drunken man is a living corpse. Drunkenness
is a demon self-chosen, a disease without excuse, an overthrow that admits
of no apology; a common shame to our kind. The drunken man is not only
useless in our assemblies; not only in public and private affairs; but
the bare sight of him is the most disgusting of all things, his breath
being stench. The belchings, and gapings, and speech of the intoxicated,
are at once unpleasant and offensive, and are utterly abhorrent to those
who see and converse with them; and the crown of these evils is, that this
disease makes heaven inaccessible to drunkards, and does not suffer them
to win eternal blessedness: for besides the shame attending those who labour
under this disease here, a grievous punishment is also awaiting them there!
Let us cut off then this evil habit, and let us hear Paul saying, "Use
a little
336
wine." For even this little he permits him on account of his infirmity;
so that if infirmity had not troubled him, he would not have forced his
disciple to allow himself even a small quantity, since it is fitting that
we should always mete out even the needful meat and drink, which are given
us, by occasions and necessities; and by no means go beyond our need, nor
do anything unmeaningly and to no purpose.
13. But since we have now learnt the tender care
of Paul, and the virtue of Timothy, come and let us, in the next place,
turn our discourse to the actual solution of those questions. What then
are the questions? For it is necessary again to mention them, that the
solution of them may be plainer. For what reason then did God permit that
such a saint, and one entrusted with the management of so many matters,
should fall into a state of disease; and that neither Timothy himself nor
his teacher had strength to correct the disorder, but needed that assistance
which was to be had by drinking wine? Such, indeed, were the questions
proposed. But it is needful to bring forward a precise solution; so that
if any should fall not only into the like sickness and disease, but into
poverty, and hunger, and bonds, and torments, and discomfitures, and calumnies,
and into all those evils which belong to the present life, although they
were great and wonderful saints, you may still be able to find, even for
their case, in the things which are to-day to be advanced, an exact and
very clear reply to those who are disposed to find fault. For ye have heard
many asking such questions, as, "Why ever is it that such an one, a moderate
and meek man, comes to be dragged daily before the seat of judgment by
another who is lawless and wicked, and to suffer evils without number,
and God permits this? For what reason again was another man, upon false
accusation, unjustly put to death?" "Such a man," says the objector, "was
drowned; another was thrown down a precipice; and we might speak of many
saints, as well in our own days as in the days of our forefathers, who
have suffered divers and chequered tribulations." To the end, therefore,
that we may see the reason of these things, and that we ourselves may not
be disturbed, nor overlook the case of others who thus meet with a stumbling-block,
we should attend with earnest heed to the reasons now about to be advanced.
14. For of the diversified and manifold affliction
which befalls the saints, I have reasons eight in number to declare unto
your love. Therefore let all direct themselves to me with the strictest
attention, knowing that there will be no pardon nor excuse left us hereafter
for stumbling at the things which happen, if after all, when there are
so many reasons, we are just as much perplexed and disturbed as if there
were not one to be found.
The first reason then is, that God permits them
to suffer evil, that they may not too easily be exalted into presumption,
by the greatness of their good works and miracles.
The second, that others may not have a greater opinion
of them than belongs to human nature, and take them to be gods and not
men.
The third, that the power of God may be made manifest,
in prevailing, and overcoming, and advancing the word preached, through
the efficacy of men who are infirm and in bonds.
The fourth, that the endurance of these themselves
may become more striking, serving God, as they do, not for a reward; but
showing even such right-mindedness as to give proof of their undiminished
good will towards Him after so many evils.
The fifth, that our minds may be wise concerning
the doctrine of a resurrection. For when thou seest a just man, and one
abounding in virtue, suffering ten thousand evils, and thus departing the
present life, thou art altogether compelled, though unwillingly, to think
somewhat of the future judgment; for if men do not suffer those who have
laboured for themselves, to depart without wages and recompense; much more
cannot God design, that those who have so greatly laboured should be sent
away uncrowned. But if He cannot intend to deprive those of the recompense
of their labours eventually, there must needs be a time, after the end
of the life here, in which they will receive the recompense of their present
labours.
The sixth, that all who fall into adversity may
have a sufficient consolation and alleviation, by looking at such persons,
and remembering what sufferings have befallen them.
The seventh, that when we exhort you to the virtue
of such persons, and we say to every one of you, "Imitate Paul, emulate
Peter," ye may not, on account of the surpassing character of their good
works, sloth-fully shrink from such an imitation of them, as deeming them
to have been partakers of a different nature.
The eighth, that when it is necessary to call any
blessed, or the reverse, we may learn whom we ought to account happy, and
whom unhappy and wretched.
These then are the reasons; but it is necessary
to establish them all from the Scriptures,
337
and to show with exactness that all that has been said on this subject
is not an invention of human reasoning, but the very sentence of the Scriptures.
For thus will what we say be at once more deserving of credit, and sink
the deeper into your minds.
15. That tribulation then is profitable to the saints,
that they may exercise moderation and lowliness, and that they may not
be puffed up by their miracles and good works, and that God permits it
for this end; we may hear David the prophet, and Paul saying the same.
The former says, "It is good for me, Lord, that I have been in trouble,
that I might learn thy statutes:"(1) and the latter having said, "I was
caught up into the third heaven, and" transported to Paradise, goes on
to say, "And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance
of the revelations, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger
of Satan to buffet me."(2) What can be clearer than this? "That I might
not be exalted above measure," for this reason, saith he, God permitted
"the messengers of Satan to buffet me;" by messengers of Satan, indeed,
he means not particular demons, but men(3) ministering for the devil, the
unbelievers, the tyrants, the heathens, who perseveringly molested, and
unceasingly worried him. And what he says is just this: "God was able to
repress these persecutions and successive tribulations; but since I had
been caught up into the third heaven, and transported to Paradise, lest
through the abundance of these revelations I might be lifted up and think
much of myself, he permitted these persecutions, and suffered these messengers
of Satan to buffet me with persecutions and afflictions, that I might not
be too much exalted." For although Paul and Peter, and all that are like
them, be holy and wonderful men, as indeed they are, yet they are but men,
and require much caution lest they should be too easily exalted; and as
saints more than others. For nothing is so apt to exalt to presumption
as a conscience full of good works, and a soul that lives in confidence.
To the end, therefore, that these might suffer nothing of this kind, God
permitted that there should be temptations and tribulations; these being
powerful to keep them down, and to persuade to the exercise of moderation
in all things.
16. That this very particular also contributes much
to the showing forth of God's power, you may learn even from the same Apostle,
who told us the former. In order that you may not say, (what indeed unbelievers
think), that God in permitting this, is some infirm being, and suffers
such persons to be continually afflicted, from not being able to deliver
His own from dangers: this very thing, I say, observe how Paul has demonstrated
by means of these events, showing not only that the events were far from
accusing Him of weakness, but that they proved His power more strikingly
to all. For having said, "There was given me a thorn in the flesh; a messenger
of Satan to buffet me," and having thus signified his repeated trials,
he goes on to add, "For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it
might depart from me; and He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee,
for My strength is perfected in weakness."(4) "My power," He means, "is
seen then when ye are in weakness; and yet through you, who seem to grow
weak, the word preached is magnified, and is sown in all quarters." When
therefore he was led to the dungeon, after having received a great number
of stripes, he took prisoner the keeper of the prison.(3) His feet were
in the stocks, and his hands in the chain; and the prison shook at midnight
while they were singing hymns. See you, how His power was perfected in
weakness? If Paul had been at large, and had shaken that building, the
thing would not have been so wonderful. "For this reason," He saith, "remain
bound; and the walls shall be shaken on every side, and the prisoners shall
be loosed; in order that My power may appear the greater, when through
thee, confined and in fetters, all that are in bonds shall be loosed."
This very circumstance then it was which at the time astounded the keeper
of the prison, that being so forcibly confined, he, through prayer alone,
prevailed to shake the foundations, and throw open the doors of the prison,
and to unbind all the prisoners. Nor is this the only occasion. But with
Peter too, and Paul himself, as well as the other disciples, one may see
this occurring constantly; and in the midst of persecution, the grace of
God ever flourishing, and appearing by the side of the tribulations, and
thus proclaiming His power. Wherefore He saith, "My grace is sufficient
for thee, for My strength is perfected in weakness."
17. But to show that many would be too often ready
to imagine things of them above human nature, unless they saw them enduring
such afflictions, hear how Paul was afraid on this very point; "For though
I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool, but now I forbear, lest
any man should think of me above
338
that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth of me."(1) But what
is it that he means? I am able, he declares, to speak of far greater miracles;
but I am unwilling; lest the magnitude of the miracles should raise too
high a notion of me among men. For this reason Peter also, when they(2)
had restored the lame man, and all were wondering at them, in order to
restrain the people, and persuade them that they had exhibited nothing
of this power of themselves, or from their native strength, says, "Why
look ye so earnestly on us, as though by our own power or holiness we had
made this man to walk?"(3) And again at Lystra, the people were not only
filled with astonishment, but led forth bulls, after crowning them with
garlands, and were preparing to offer sacrifice to Paul and Barnabas. Observe
the malice of the Devil. By those very same persons through whom the Lord
was at work, to purge out ungodliness from the world, by the same did that
enemy try to introduce it, again persuading them to take men for gods;
which was what he had done in former times. And this is especially that
which introduced the principle and root of idolatry. For many after having
had success in wars, and set up trophies, and built cities, and done divers
other benefits of this kind to the people of those times, came to be esteemed
gods by the multitude, and were honoured with temples, and altars; and
the whole catalogue of the Grecian gods is made up of such men. That this,
therefore, may not be done towards the Saints,(4) God permitted them constantly
to be banished,--to be scourged,--to fall into diseases; that the abundance
of bodily infirmity, and the multiplicity of those temptations, might convince
those who were then with them, both that they were men, who wrought such
wonders, and that they contributed nothing of their own power; but that
it was mere grace, that wrought through them all these miracles. For if
they took men for gods, who had done but mean and vile things, much rather
would they have thought these to be such, had they suffered nothing
proper to humanity, when they performed miracles, such as no one
had ever before Seen or heard of. For if when they were scourged,
thrown down precipices, imprisoned, banished, and placed in peril every
day, there were, notwithstanding, some who fell into this impious opinion,
how much rather would they have been thus regarded, had they endured nothing
which belongs to human nature I
18. This then is the third cause of affliction;
and the fourth is, that the saints might not be supposed to serve God from
a hope of present prosperity. For many of those who live in debauchery,
when blamed as they often are by many, and invited to the labours of virtue;
and when they hear the saints commended for their cheerfulness under great
hardships,(5) attack their character on this ground; and not men only,
but the devil himself hath taken up this suspicion. For when Job was surrounded
with great wealth, and enjoyed much opulence, that wicked demon,(6) being
reproached by God on his account, and having nothing to say; when he could
neither answer the accusations against himself, nor impugn the virtue of
this just man; took refuge at once in this defence, speaking thus, "Doth
Job fear thee for nought? Hast thou not made an hedge about him on all
sides."(7) "For reward then," saith he, "that man is virtuous, enjoying
thereby so much opulence." What then did God? Being desirous to show, that
it was not for reward that his saints serve Him, He stripped him of all
his opulence; gave him over to poverty; and permitted him to fall into
grievous disease. Afterwards reproving him,(8) that he had suspected thus
without cause, He saith, "He let holdeth fast his integrity; to no purpose
didst thou move me to destroy his substance." For it is a sufficient reward,
and compensation to the saints, that they are serving God; since this indeed
to the lover is reward enough, to love the object of his love;(9) and he
seeks nothing besides, nor accounts anything greater than this. And if
such be the case with regard to a man, much more in relation to God; which
therefore that God might demonstrate, He gave more than the devil asked;
for the latter said, "Put forth thine hand, and touch him;"(10) but God
said
339
not thus, but, "I deliver him unto thee." For just as in the contests(1)
of the outer world, the combatants that are vigorous, and in high condition
of body,(2) are not so well discended, when they are enwrapt all around
with the garment soaked in oil; but when casting this aside, they are brought
forward unclothed into the arena; then above all they strike the spectators
on every side with astonishment at the proportion of their limbs, there
being no longer anything to conceal them; so also was it with Job. When
he was enveloped in all that wealth, it was not visible to the many, what
a man he was. But when, like the wrestler, that strips off his garment,
he threw it aside, and came naked to the conflicts of piety, thus unclothed,
he astonished all who saw him;(2) so that the very theatre of angels shouted
at beholding his fortitude of soul, and applauded him as he won his crown!
For, as I have already observed, he was not so well seen of men, when clad
in all that wealth, as when, casting it away like a garment, he exhibited
himself naked as it were in a theatre, in the midst of the world, and all
admired his vigor of soul, evidenced as this was not only by his being
stripped of all things, but by the conflict, and by his patience in respect
of his infirmity. And as I said before, God Himself did not smite him;
in order that the devil might not again say, "Thou hast spared him, and
hast not inflicted so great a trial as was necessary:" but he gave to the
adversary the destruction of his cattle, and power over his flesh. "I am
sure," saith He, "of this wrestler; therefore I do not forbid thee to impose
on him whatever struggles thou desirest." But as those who are well skilled
in the sports of the palaestra, and have reason to rely on their art and
bodily strength, often do not seize their antagonists upright, nor take
an equal advantage, but suffer them to take them by the middle,(4) that
they may make a more splendid conquest; so also God gave to the devil to
take this saint by the waist, that when he had overcome, after an attack
so greatly to his disadvantage, and stretched his adversary on the ground,
his crown might be so much the more glorious!
19. It is tried gold! Try it as thou desirest; examine
it as thou wishest, thou wilt not find in it any dross. This shows us not
only the fortitude of others, but also brings much farther(5) consolation;
for what saith Christ, "Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute
you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake.
Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven: for
in like manner did their fathers unto the prophets."(6) Again, Paul writing
to the Macedonians in his desire to console them, says, "For ye, brethren,
became followers of the churches of God which are in Judea. For ye also
have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of
the Jews."(7) And again, he consoles the Hebrews in like manner, reckoning
up all the just who had lived(8) in furnaces; in pits; in deserts; in mountains;
in caves; in hunger; and in poverty.(9) For communion of suffering brings
some consolation to the fallen.
20. But that this also introduces arguments for
the resurrection, hear the same Paul again, saying, "If after the manner
of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what shall it profit me if
the dead are not raised."(10) And further, "If in this life only we have
hope, we are of all men the most miserable."(11) We suffer, he tells us,
innumerable evils during the present life; if then there is no other life
to be hoped for, what can be more wretched than our condition? Hence it
is evident that our affairs are not bounded Within the limits of this present
state; and this becomes manifest from our trials. For God could never suffer
those who have endured so many and so great evils, and who have spent all
the present life in trials and dangers without number, to be without a
recompense of far greater gifts; and if he could not suffer this, it is
certain that he has prepared another, a better and brighter life, in
which he will crown those who have wrestled in the cause of godliness,
and proclaim their praises in the presence of the whole world. So
that when you see a just man straitened and afflicted; and in sickness,
and in poverty, as well as innumerable other woes, till he ends this present
life; say to thyself, that if there were no resurrection and judgment,
God would not have permitted one, who endured such great evils for His
sake, to depart hence without enjoying any good thing; from whence it is
evident, that for such He has prepared another life, and one which is sweeter
and much more endurable. For if
340
it were not so, then he would not suffer many of the wicked to luxuriate
through the present life; and many of the just to remain in ten thousand
ills: but since there is provided another life, in which he is about to
recompense every man according to his deserts; one for his wickedness,
another for his virtue; on that account he forbears, while he sees the
former enduring evil, and the latter living in luxury.
21. And that other(1) reason too I wilt endeavor
to bring forward from the Scriptures. But what was it? It was, that we
might not say, when exhorted to the same virtue, that they were partakers
of another nature, or were not men. On this account, a certain one speaking
of the great Elias, says, "Elias was a man of like passions with us."(2)
Do you perceive, that he shows from a communion of suffering,(3) that he
was the same kind of man that we are? And again, "I too am a man of like
passions with you."(4) And this guarantees a community of nature.
22. But that you may learn that this also teaches
us to consider those blessed whom we ought to consider blessed, is evident
from hence. For when you hear Paul saying, "Even unto this present hour
we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffetted, and have
no certain dwelling place."(5) And again; "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteheth,
and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth;"(6) it is certain that it is
not those who are enjoying quietness, but those who are in affliction for
God's sake, and who are in tribulation, whom we must applaud, emulating
those who live virtuously, and cultivate piety. For so speaks the prophet:
"Their right hand is a right hand of iniquity. Their daughters beautified,
ornamented after the similitude of a temple. Their garners full, bursting
from one into another; their sheep fruitful; abundant in their streets;
their oxen fat. There is no breaking down of the fence, nor passage through;
nor clamor in their streets. They call the people blessed whose affairs
are in this state."(7) But what dost thou say, O prophet? "Blessed," saith
he, "the people whose God is the Lord;" not the people affluent in wealth,
but one adorned with godliness;(8) that people, saith he, I esteem happy,
although they suffer innumerable hardships!
23. But if it were necessary to add a ninth(9) reason,
we might say, that this tribulation maketh those who are troubled more
approved; "For tribulation worketh patience; and patience, probation; and
probation, hope; and hope maketh not ashamed."(10) Do you see that the
probation, which comes of tribulation, fixes in us the hope of the good
things to come, and that the abiding in trials causes us to have a good
hope of the future? So that I did not say rashly, that these tribulations
themselves mark out to us hopes of a resurrection, and make those who are
tried the better; for, he saith, "as gold is tried in a furnace, so an
acceptable man in the furnace of humiliation."(11)
24. There is besides a tenth reason to mention;
and what is it, but the one I have before frequently referred to?
viz. that if we have any spots, we thus put them away. And the patriarch,
making this matter plain, said to the rich man, "Lazarus hath received(12)
his evil things,"(13) hence "he is comforted." And besides this, we may
find another reason, which is to this effect; that our crowns and rewards
are thus increased. For in proportion as tribulations are more intense,
so also are the rewards augmented; yea, even far more: "for the sufferings
of the present time," it is said, "are not worthy to be compared to the
glory that shall be revealed in us."(4) Thus many then being the reasons
which we have to advance for the afflictions of the saints, let us not
take our trials amiss, or be distressed, or disturbed on account of them;
but both ourselves discipline our own souls, and teach others to do the
same.
25. And if, O beloved, thou seest a man living in
virtue, keeping fast hold of spiritual wisdom, pleasing God, yet suffering
innumerable ills, do not stumble! And although thou seest any one devoting
himself to spiritual affairs, and about to achieve something useful, yet
presently supplanted, be not discouraged! For I know there are many who
ofttimes propose a question to this effect: "Such a one," say they, "was
performing a pilgrimage to some Martyr's shrine; and whilst conveying money
to the poor, met with a shipwreck, and lost all. Another man, in doing
the like, fell among robbers, and scarcely saved his life, leaving the
place in a state of nudity." What then should we say? Why that in neither
of these cases need one be sad. For if the one met with a shipwreck,
341
yet he hath the fruit of his righteousness complete inasmuch as he fulfilled
all his own part. He collected the money together, he stowed it away,(1)
he took it with him, he departed on his pilgrimage; but the shipwreck that
followed was not of his own will. "But why did God permit it?" In order
that he might make the man approved. "But," says one, "the poor were deprived
of the money." Thou dost not so care for the poor, as the God who made
them? for if they were deprived of these things, He is able to provide
a greater supply of wealth for them from another quarter.
26. Let us not then call Him to account for what
He does; but let us give Him glory in all things. For it is not lightly
and to no purpose that He often permits such events. But beside that He
does not overlook those that would have enjoyed comfort from such wealth;
and instead of it, affords them some other supply of sustenance; He also
makes him who suffers the shipwreck more approved, and provides him a greater
reward; inasmuch as the giving thanks to God, when one falls into such
calamities, is a far greater matter than giving alms. For not what we give
in alms only, but whatever we have been deprived of by others, and borne
it with fortitude; this too brings us much fruit. And that you may learn,
that the latter is indeed the greater thing, I will make it evident from
what befell Job. He, when a possessor of wealth, opened his house to the
poor, and whatever he had he bestowed; but he was not so illustrious when
he opened his house to the poor, as when, upon hearing that his house had
fallen down, he did not take it impatiently. He was not illustrious when
he clad the naked with the fleece of his flock, as he was illustrious and
renowned when he heard that the fire had fallen, and consumed all his flocks,
and yet gave thanks. Before, he was a lover of man; now, he was a lover
of Wisdom. Before, he had compassion on the poor; but now he gave thanks
to the Lord! And he did not say to himself, "Why is it that this hath happened?
The flocks are consumed from which thousands of the poor were supported;
and if I was unworthy to enjoy such plenty, at least He should have spared
me for the sake of the partakers."
27. Nothing of this sort did Job utter, no nor think,
because he knew that God was dispensing all things for good. That you may
learn, moreover, that he gave a heavier blow to the devil after this, when,
being stripped of all things, he gave thanks, than when, being in possession
of them, he gave alms; observe, that when he was in possession, the devil
could utter a certain suspicion, and however false, he yet could utter
it: "Doth Job serve thee for nought?" But when he had taken all, and stripped
him of everything, and the man yet retained the same good will towards
God, from that time his shameless mouth was stopped, and had nothing further
to allege. For the just man was more illustrious than in his former state.(2)
For to bear nobly and thankfully the privation of all things, is a far
greater thing than it was to give alms whilst living in affluence; and
it has been accordingly demonstrated in the case of this just man. Before,
there was much benignity to his fellow-servants; now, there was exceeding
love shown towards the Lord!
28. And I do not lengthen out this discourse without
purpose; forasmuch as there are many, who, often whilst engaged in works
of mercy, as supporting widows, have been spoiled of all their substance.
Some again, by the accident of some fire, have lost their all; some have
met with shipwreck; others, by false informations and injuries of that
sort, though they have done many alms-deeds, have fallen into the extremes
of poverty, sickness, and disease, and have obtained no help from any one.
Lest we should say then, as many often do, "No man knoweth anything;"(2)
what has just been said may suffice to remove all perplexity on this point.
Suppose it is objected that "such an one, after having done many alms-deeds,
has lost all?" And what if he had lost all? If he gives thanks for this
loss, he will draw down much greater favour from God! And he will not receive
twofold, as Job did, but a hundredfold in the life to come. But if here
he does endure evil, the very circumstance of his sustaining all with fortitude
will bring him a greater treasure; for God permits him to fall from plenty
to poverty, for the purpose of calling him thus to the more frequent exercises,
and greater conflicts. Hath it happened as is often the case, that the
fire seizing upon thy house, hath burnt it up and devoured all thy substance?
Remember
342
what happened to Job; give thanks to the Lord, who though he was able
to forbid, did not forbid it; and thou wilt receive as great a reward as
if thou hadst deposited all thy wealth in the hands of the poor! But dost
thou spend thy days in poverty and hunger, and in the midst of a thousand
dangers? Remember Lazarus who had to buffet with disease, and poverty,
and desolateness, and those other innumerable trials; and that after so
high a degree of virtue!(1) Remember the Apostles, who lived in hunger,
and thirst, and nakedness; the prophets, the patriarchs, the just men,
and you will find all these not among the rich or luxurious, but among
the poor, the afflicted, and the distressed!
29. Saying these things to thyself, give thanks
unto the Lord, that he hath made thee to be of this part, not hating thee,
but loving thee greatly; since He would not have permitted those men either
to suffer thus, if he had not exceedingly loved them, because He made them
more illustrious by these evils. There is nothing so good as thanksgiving;
even as there is nothing worse than blasphemy. We should not wonder that
when we become intent upon spiritual things, we suffer much that is grievous.
For as thieves do not dig through and assiduously keep watch there, where
there is hay, and chaff, and straw, but where there is gold and silver;
so also the devil besets those especially who are engaged in spiritual
matters. Where virtue is, there are many snares! where alms-giving is,
there is envy! But we have one weapon which is the best, and sufficient
to repel all such engines as these; in everything to give thanks to God.
Tell me, did not Abel, when offering the first fruits to God, fall by the
hand of his brother? But yet God permitted it, not hating one who had honoured
him, but loving him greatly; and beside that which came of that excellent
sacrifice, providing him another crown by martyrdom. Moses wished to protect
a certain one who was injured, and he was put into the extremest peril,
and banished his country.(2) This too God permitted, that thou mightest
learn the patience of the saints. For if, foreknowing that we should suffer
nothing of a grievous kind, we then put our hands to the work of religion,
we should not seem to be doing anything great, as having such a pledge
of safety. But as it is, those who do such things are the more to be wondered
at, even for this; because, though they foresee dangers, and punishments,
and deaths, and ten thousand evils, still they did not desist from those
good works, nor become less zealous from the expectation of terrors(3)
30. As, therefore, the Three Children said, "There
is a God in heaven, who is able to deliver us; and if not, let it be known
unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, and that we will not
worship the golden image which thou hast set up."(4) Do thou also, when
about to perform any duty to God, look forward to manifold dangers, manifold
punishments, manifold deaths; and be not surprised, nor be disturbed, if
such things happen. For it is said, "My Son, if thou come to serve the
Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation."(5) For surely no one choosing to
right,(6) expects to carry off the crown without wounds! And thou, therefore,
who hast undertaken to wage a complete combat(7) with the devil, think
not to pursue a life without danger, and full of luxury! God hath not pledged
to thee His recompense and His promise here; but everything that is splendid
for thee in the future life! Be glad and rejoice then, if when thou hast
thyself done any good action, thou receive the contrary, or if thou See
another suffering this; inasmuch as this becomes to thee the source of
a higher recompense! Do not be downcast: nor give up thy zeal, nor become
the more torpid; but rather press onward with more eagerness; since even
the Apostles, when they preached, although scourged, stoned, and constant
inmates of the prisons, did not only after deliverance from dangers, but
also in those very dangers, announce with greater forwardness the message
of Truth. Paul is to be seen in prison, yea, even in chains, instructing
and initiating:(8) and moreover doing the very same in a court of justice,
in shipwreck, in tempest, and in a thousand dangers. Do thou too imitate
these saints, and cease not from good works, so long as thou art able;
and although thou seest the devil thwarting thee ten thousand times, never
fall back! Thou perchance, bearing with thee thy wealth, hast met with
shipwreck; but Paul carrying the word, far more precious than all wealth,
was going to Rome, and was wrecked; and sustained innumerable hardships.
And this he himself signified, when he said, "Many times we desired to
come unto you, but Satan hindered us."(9) And God permitted it; thus revealing
the more abun-
343
dantly His power, and showing that the multitude of things which the
devil did, or prevented from being done, neither lessened nor interrupted
the preaching of the Gospel. On this account Paul gave God thanks in all
things; and knowing that he was himself thereby rendered more approved,
he exhibited his exceeding forwardness on every occasion, letting none
of these impediments prevent him!
31. As often then as we are frustrated in spiritual
works, so often let us again take them in hand; and let us not say, "for
what reason did God permit these impediments?" for He permitted them to
this end, that He might show thy alacrity much more to others, and thy
great love; this being the special mark of one that loves, never to desist
from those things which are approved by him whom he loves. The man, indeed,
who is flaccid and listless, will fall back from the first shock; but he
who is energetic and alert, although he be hindered a thousand times, will
devote himself so much the more to the things of God; fulfilling all as
far as he is able; and in everything giving thanks. This then let us do!
Thanksgiving is a great treasure; large wealth; a good that cannot be taken
away; a powerful weapon! Even as blasphemy increases our present mishap;
and makes us lose much more beside than we have lost already. Hast thou
lost money? If thou hast been thankful, thou hast gained thy soul; and
obtained greater wealth; having acquired a greater measure of the favour
of God. But if thou blasphemest, thou hast, besides this, lost thine own
safety; and hast not regained possession of thy wealth; yea and thy soul,
which thou hadst, thou hast sacrificed!
32. But since our discourse has now turned to the
subject of blasphemy, I desire to ask one favor of you all, in return for
this my address, and speaking with you; which is, that you will correct
on my behalf the blasphemers of this city. And should you hear any one
in the public thoroughfare, or in the midst of the forum, blaspheming God;
go up to him and rebuke him; and should it be necessary to inflict blows,
spare not to do so. Smite him on the face; strike his mouth; sanctify thy
hand with the blow, and if any should accuse thee, and drag thee to the
place of justice, follow them thither; and when the judge on the bench
calls thee to account, say boldly that the man blasphemed the King of angels!
For if it be necessary to punish those who blaspheme an earthly king, much
more so those who insult God. It is a common crime, a public injury; and
it is lawful for every one who is willing, to bring forward an accusation.
Let the Jews and Greeks learn, that the Christians are the saviours of
the city; that they are its guardians, its patrons, and its teachers. Let
the dissolute and the perverse also learn this; that they must fear the
servants of God too; that if at any time they are inclined to utter such
a thing, they may look round every way at each other, and tremble even
at their own shadows, anxious lest perchance a Christian, having heard
what they said, should spring upon them and sharply chastise them. Have
you not heard what John did? He saw a man that was a tyrant overthrowing
the laws of marriage; and with boldness, he proclaimed in the midst of
the forum, "It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother Philip's wife."(1)
But I urge thee on, not against a prince or a judge; nor against the marriage
ordinance outraged; nor in behalf of fellow-servants insulted. But I require
thee to castigate an equal, for insolence against the Lord. Truly, if I
had said unto thee, punish and correct those kings or judges who transgress
the laws, would you not say that I was mad? But John forsooth acted thus.
So that even this is not too much for us. Now then, at least, correct a
fellow-servant; an equal; and although it should be necessary to die, do
not shrink from chastising(2) a brother. This is thy martyrdom, since John
was also a martyr. And although he was not commanded to sacrifice, nor
to worship an idol, yet for the sacred laws that were despised, he laid
down his head. Do thou too then contend, even to the death, for the truth,
and God will fight for thee! And make me not this cold reply. "What matters
it to me? I have nothing in common with him."(3) With the devil alone we
have nothing in common, but with all men we have many things in common;
for they partake of the same nature with us; they inhabit the same earth,
and they are nourished with the same food; they have the same Lord; they
have received the same laws, and are invited to the same blessings with
ourselves. Let us not say then, that we have nothing in common with them;
for this is a satanic speech; a diabolical inhumanity. Therefore let us
not give utterance to such words, but exhibit such a tender care as becomes
brethren!
33. This indeed I, for my part, engage with the
strictest certainty, and pledge myself to you all, that if all you who
are present will but choose to take in hand the safety of
344
the inhabitants of this city, we shall speedily have it amended throughout. And this, even although but the least part of the city is here; the least as to multitude, but the chief part as it respects piety. Let us take in hand the safety of our brethren! One man inflamed with zeal is sufficient to reform a whole community! But when not merely one, or two, or three, but so great a multitude are able to take on them the care of the neglected, it is in no other way but by our own supineness, and not from our want of strength, that the majority perish and fall. Is it not indeed absurd? When we happen to see a fight taking place in the forum, we go into the midst of it, and reconcile the combatants! But why do I speak of a fight? If, perchance, we see an ass fallen down, we all make haste to stretch out a hand to raise him up. Yet we neglect our perishing brethren! The blasphemer is an ass; unable to bear the burden of his anger, he has fallen. Come forward and raise him up, both by words and by deeds; and both by meekness and by vehemence; let the medicine be various. And if we thus administer our own part, and take pains for the safety of our neighbours,we shall soon become objects of desire and affection to the very persons who have the benefit of our correction; and what is more than all, we shall enjoy those good things which are laid up in store. Which God grant that we may all obtain, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ; through whom and with whom, to the Father with the Holy Ghost, be glory and power and honor, both now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY II.
Spoken in Antioch in the Old Church, as it was called, while he was
a presbyter, on the subject of the calamity that had befallen the city
in consequence of the tumult connected with the overthrow of the Statues
of the Emperor Theodosius, the Great and Pious. And on the saying of the
Apostle, "Charge them that are rich that they be not high-minded," 1 Tim.
vi. 17. And against covetousness.
1. What shall I say, or what shall I speak of? The present
season is one for tears, and not for words; for lamentation, not for discourse;
for prayer, not for preaching. Such is the magnitude of the deeds daringly
done; so incurable is the wound, so deep the blow, even beyond the power
of all treatment, and craving assistance from above. Thus it was that Job,
when he had lost all, sat himself down upon a dunghill; and his friends
heard of it, and came, and seeing him, while yet afar off, they rent their
garments, and sprinkled themselves with ashes, and made great lamentation.(1)
The same thing now ought all the cities around to do, to come to our city
and to lament with all sympathy what has befallen us. He then sat down
on his dunghill; she is now seated in the midst of a great snare. For even
as the devil then leaped violently the flocks, and herds, and all the substance
of the just man, so now hath he raged against this whole city. But then,
as well as now, God permitted it; then, indeed, that he might make the
just man more illustrious by the greatness of his trials; and now, that
he may make us more sober-minded by the extremity of this tribulation.
Suffer me to mourn over our present state. We have been silent seven days,
even as the friends of Job were.(2) Suffer me to open my mouth to-day,
and to bewail this common calamity.
2. Who, beloved, hath bewitched us? Who hath envied
us? Whence hath all this change come over us? Nothing was more dignified
than our city! Now, never was anything more pitiable! The populace so well
ordered and quiet, yea, even like a tractable and well tamed steed, always
submissive to the hands of its rulers, hath now so suddenly started off
with us, as to have wrought such evils, as one can hardly dare to mention.
I mourn now and lament, not for the greatness of
that wrath which is to be expected, but for the extravagance of the frenzy
which has been manifested! For although the Emperor should not be provoked,
or in anger, although he were neither to punish, nor take
345
vengeance; how, I pray, are we to bear the shame of all that has been
done? I find the word of instruction broken off by lamentation; scarcely
am I able to open my mouth, to part my lips, to move my tongue, or to utter
a syllable! So, even like a curb, the weight of grief checks my tongue,
and keeps back what I would say.
3. Aforetime there was nothing happier than our
city; nothing more melancholy than it is now become. As bees buzzing around
their hive, so before this the inhabitants every day flitted about the
forum, and all pronounced us happy in being so numerous. But behold now,
this hive hath become solitary! For even as smoke does those bees, so fear
hath driven away our swarms; and what the prophet says, bewailing Jerusalem,
we may fitly say now, "Our city is become 'like a terebinth that
hath lost its leaves,(1) and as a garden that hath no water.'"(2) For in
like manner as a garden when its irrigation fails, exhibits the trees stripped
of their leaves, and bare of their fruits, so has it now fared with our
city. For the help from above having forsaken her, she stands desolate
stripped of almost all her inhabitants.
4. Nothing is sweeter than one's own country; but
now, it has come to pass that nothing is more bitter! All flee from the
place which brought them forth, as from a snare. They desert it as they
would a dungeon; they leap out of it, as from a fire. And just as when
a house is seized upon by the flames, not only those who dwell therein,
but all who are near, take their flight from it with the utmost haste,
eager to save but their bare bodies; even so now too, when the wrath of
the Emperor is expected to come as a fire(3) from above, every one presses
to go forth in time, and to save the bare body, before the fire in its
progress reaches them. And now our calamity has become an enigma; a flight
without enemies; an expulsion of inhabitants without a battle; a captivity
without capture! We have not seen the fire of barbarians, nor beheld the
face of enemies: and yet we experience the sufferings of captives. All
men now hear of our calamities; for receiving our exiles, they learn from
them the stroke which has fallen upon our city.
5. Yet I am not ashamed, nor blush at this. Let
all men learn the sufferings of the city, that, sympathizing with their
mother, they may lift up their united voice to God from the whole earth;
and with one consent entreat the King of heaven for their universal nurse
and parent.(4) Lately our city was shaken;(5) but now the very souls of
the inhabitants totter! Then the foundations of the houses shook, but now
the very foundations of every heart quiver; and we all see death daily
before our eyes! We live in constant terror, and endure the penalty of
Cain; a more pitiable one than that of those who were the former inmates
of the prison; undergoing as we now do a new and strange kind of siege,
far more terrible than the ordinary kind. For they who suffer this from
enemies, are only shut up within the walls; but even the forum has become
impassable to us, and every one is pent up within the walls of his own
house! And as it is not safe for those who are beseiged to go beyond the
walls, while the enemy without is encamped around; so neither, to many
of those who inhabit this city, is it safe to go out of doors, or to all-pear
openly; on account of those who are everywhere hunting for the innocent
as well as the guilty; and seizing them even in the midst of the forum,
and dragging them to the court of justice, without ceremony, and just as
chance directs.(6) For this reason, free-men sit in doors shackled up with
their domestics; anxiously and minutely enquiring of those to whom they
may safely put the question, "Who has been seized to-day;" who carried
off;(7) or punished? How was it? and in what manner?" They live a life
more wretched than any kind of death; being compelled daily to mourn the
calamities of others; while they tremble for their own safety, and are
in no better case than the dead; inasmuch as they are already dead with
fear.
6. But if any one who is devoid of this fear
and anguish, chooses to enter the forum, he is presently driven back to
his own dwelling, by the cheerless spectacle; finding hardly perchance
one or two people, and those hanging their heads and creeping about with
downcast looks, where but a few days before the multitude swept along more
incessantly than(8) the streams of rivers. Yet all these have now been
driven away from us! And, as when many trees in a thick wood of oak are
cut down in all directions, the spectacle becomes a melancholy one, even
like that of a head with many patches of baldness; even so the city itself,
its inhabitants being dimin-
346
ished and but few appearing here and there, is now become dreary, and
sheds a heavy mist of sorrow over those who witness it. And not the ground
only, but the very nature of the air, and even the circle of the sun's
beams, seem now to me to look mournful, and to shine more dimly; not that
the elements change their nature, but that our eyes being confused by the
cloud of sadness, are unable to receive the light of the rays clearly,
or with the same relish. This is what the prophet of old bewailed, when
he said, "The sun shall go down at noon, and the day shall be darkened."(1)
And this he said, not as though the Day Star(2) should be eclipsed, or
the day should disappear, but because those who are in sorrow, are not
able to perceive the light even of noon day on account of the darkness
of their anguish; which indeed has been the case now. And wherever any
one looks abroad, whether upon the ground or upon the walls; whether upon
the columns of the city, or upon his neighbours, he seems to see night
and deep gloom; so full is all of melancholy! There is a silence big with
horror, and loneliness everywhere; and that dear hum of the multitude is
stifled; and even as though all were gone beneath the earth, so speechlessness
hath now taken possession of the city; and all men seem like stones, and
being oppressed by the calamity like a gag on their tongues; they maintain
the profoundest silence, yea, such a silence as if enemies had come on
them, and had consumed them all at once by fire and sword!
7. Now is it a fit season to say, "Call for the
mourning women, that they may come, and for the cunning women, and let
them take up a wailing. Let your(3) eyes run down with water, and your
eyelids gush out with tears."(4) Ye hills take up wailing, and ye mountains
lamentation! Let us call the whole creation into sympathy with our evils.
So great a City, and the head of those which lie under the eastern sky,
is in danger of being torn away from the midst of the civilized world!
She that had so many children, has now suddenly become childless, and there
is no one who shall come to her aid! For he who has been insulted has not
an equal in dignity upon earth; for he is a monarch; the summit and head
of all here below! On this account then let us take refuge in the King
that is above. Him let us call in to our aid. If we may not obtain the
favour of heaven, there is no consolation left for what has befallen us!
8. Here I could wish to end this discourse;
for the minds of those who are in anguish are indisposed to extend their
discourses to a great length. And as when some dense cloud has formed,
and flying under the solar rays, returns back to him all his splendour
again, so indeed does the cloud of sadness, when it stands before our souls,
refuse to admit an easy passage for the word, but chokes it and restrains
it forcibly within. And this is the case not only with those who speak,
but with those who hear; for as it does not suffer the word to burst forth
freely from the soul of the speaker, so neither does it suffer it to sink
into the mind of those who listen, with its natural power. Therefore also
the Jews of old time, while slaving at the mud and bricks, had not the
heart to listen to Moses, while he repeatedly told them great things respecting
their future deliverance; despondency making their minds inaccessible to
the address, and shutting up their sense of hearing. I could have wished
then, as to myself, to have put an end here to my discourse; but thinking
that it is not only the nature of a cloud to intercept the forward passage
of the sun's rays, but that often just the opposite happens to the cloud;
since the sun continually falling upon it with much warmth, wears it away,
and frequently breaks through the midst of it; and shining forth all at
once, meets cheerfully the gaze of the beholders. This also I myself expect
to do this day; and the word being continually associated with your minds,
and dwelling in them, I hope to burst the cloud of sadness, and to shine
through your understandings again, with the customary instruction!
9. But afford me your attention! Lend me your ears
awhile! Shake off this despondency! Let us return to our former custom;(5)
and as we have been used always to meet here with gladness, so let us also
do now, casting all upon God. And this will contribute towards our actual
deliverance from calamity. For should the Lord see that His words are listened
to carefully; and that our love of divine wisdom stands the trial of the
difficulty of these times, He will quickly take us up again, and will make
out of the present tempest a calm and happy change. For this too is a thing
in which it behoves the Christian to differ from the unbelievers, the bearing
all things nobly; and through hope of the future, soaring above the attack
of human evils. The believer hath his stand on the Rock; for this reason
he cannot be overthrown by the dashing of the billows. For should the waves
of temptation rise, they
347
cannot reach to his feet. He stands too lofty for any such assault.
Let us not then sink down, beloved! We do not care so much for our own
safety, as God who made us. There is not so much solicitude on our part,
lest we suffer any dreadful misfortune, as with Him who bestowed upon us
a soul, and then gave us so many good things beside. Let us mount on the
wings of these hopes, and hear the things about to be spoken with our accustomed
readiness.
10. I made a prolonged discourse lately unto you
beloved, and yet I saw all following it up, and no one turning back in
the middle of the course.(1) I return thanks to you for that readiness,
and have received the reward of my labours. But there was another reward,
besides that attention, which I asked of you at that time; perchance you
know and recollect it. And what was the reward? That you should punish
and chastise the blasphemers that were in the city; that ye should restrain
those who are violent and insolent against God! I do not think that I then
spoke these things of myself; but that God, foreseeing what was coming,
injected these words into my mind; for if we had punished those who dared
to do such things, that which has now happened would never have happened.
How much better would it have been, if necessity so required, to run into
danger; yea, to suffer in castigating and correcting such persons (which
would have brought us a martyr's crown), than now to fear, to tremble,
and to expect death, from the insubordination of such persons! Behold,
the crime was that of a few, but the blame comes on all! Behold, through
these, we are all now placed in fear, and are ourselves suffering the punishment
of what these men dared to do! But if we had taken them in time, and cast
them out of the city, and chastised them, and corrected the sick member,
we should not have been subjected to our present terror. I know that the
manners of this city have been of a noble character from old times;(2)
but that certain strangers, and men of mixed race,--accursed and pernicious
characters,--hopeless of their own safety, have perpetrated what has been
perpetrated. For this very reason I was always lifting up my voice, and
unceasingly bearing my testimony, saying, Let us punish the madness of
those blasphemers,--let us control their spirit, and provide for their
salvation;--yea, though it be necessary to die in doing it, the deed would
yet bring us great gain: let us not overlook the insult done to our common
Lord; overlooking such things will bring forth some great evil to our city!
11. These things I foretold, and they have now actually
taken place;--and we are paying the penalty of that listlessness! You overlooked
the insult that was done unto God!--Behold, he hath permitted the Emperor
to be insulted, and peril to the utmost to hang over all, in order that
we might pay by this fear the penalty of that listlessness; was it then
vainly, and to no purpose I foretold these things, and assiduously urged
your Charity? But nevertheless, nothing was done. Let it, however, be done
now; and being chastened by our present calamity, let us now restrain the
disorderly madness of these men. Let us shut up their mouths, even as we
close up pestiferous fountains; and let us turn them to a contrary course,
and the evils which have taken hold of the city shall undoubtedly be stayed.
The Church is not a theatre, that we should listen for amusement. With
profit ought we to depart hence, and some fresh and great gain should we
acquire ere we leave this place. For it is but vainly and irrationally
we meet together, if we have been but captivated for a time, and
return home empty, and void of all improvement from the things spoken.
12. What need have I of these plaudits, these cheers
and tumultuous signs of approval?(3) The praise I seek, is that ye show
forth all I have said in your works. Then am I an enviable and happy man,
not when ye approve, but when ye perform with all readiness, whatsoever
ye hear from me? Let every one then correct his neighbour, for "edify ye
one another,"(4) it is said, and if we do not this, the crimes of each
one will bring some general and intolerable damage to the city. Behold,
while we are unconscious of any part in this transaction, we are no less
affrighted than those who were daringly engaged in it! We are dreading
lest the wrath of the Emperor should descend upon all; and it is not sufficient
for us to say in defence, "I was not present; I was not an accomplice,
nor a participator in these acts." "For this reason," he may reply, "thou
shalt be punished, and pay the extreme penalty, because thou wert not present;
and didst not
348
check, nor restrain the rioters, and didst not run any risk for the
honour of the Emperor! Hadst thou no part in these audacious deeds? I commend
this, and take it well. But thou didst not check these things when being
done. This is a cause of accusation!" Such words. as these, we shall also
hear from God, if we silently suffer the continuance of the injuries and
insults committed against Him. For he also who had buried his talent in
the earth, was called to account, not for crimes done by himself, for he
had given back the whole of that which was entrusted to him, but because
he had not increased it; because he had not instructed others; because
he had not deposited it in the hands of the bankers; that is, he had not
admonished, or counselled, or rebuked, or amended those unruly sinners
who were his neighbours. On this account he was sent away without reprieve
to those intolerable punishments! But I fully trust that though ye did
not before, ye will now at least perform this work of correction, and not
overlook insult committed against God. For the events which have taken
place are sufficient, even if no one had given any warning, to convince
men ever so disposed to be insensible, that they must exert themselves
for their own safety.
13. But it is now time that we should proceed to
lay out before you the customary table from St. Paul, by handling the subject
of this day's reading, and placing it in view for you all. What then was
the text read today?(1) "Charge them that are rich in this world that they
be not high-minded."(2) When he says, "the rich in this world," he makes
it manifest, that there are others who are rich, that is, in the world
to come: such as was that Lazarus, poor as to the present life, but rich
as to the future; not in gold and silver, and such like perishable and
transitory store of wealth; but in those unutterable good things "which
eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of
man."(3) For this is true wealth and opulence, when there is good unmixed,
and not subject to any change. Not such was the case of that rich man who
despised him, but he became the poorest of mankind. Afterwards at least
when he sought to obtain but a drop of water, he did not get possession
even of that, to such extreme poverty was he come. For this reason he calls
them rich "in the present world," to teach thee that along with the present
life, worldly wealth is annihilated. It goes no further, neither does it
change its place with its migrating possessors, but it often leaves them
before their end; which therefore he shows by saying, "Neither trust in
uncertain riches;" for nothing is so faithless as wealth; of which I have
often said, and will not cease to say, that it is a runaway, thankless
servant, having no fidelity; and should you throw over him ten thousand
chains, he will make off dragging his chains after him. Frequently, indeed,
have those who possessed him shut him up with bars and doors, placing their
slaves round about for guards. But he has over-persuaded these very servants,
and has fled away together with his guards; dragging his keepers after
him like a chain, so little security was there in this custody. What then
can be more faithless than this? what more wretched than men devoted to
it? When men endeavour with all eagerness to collect so frail and fleeting
a thing, they do not hear what the prophet saith: "Woe unto them who trust
in their power, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches."(4)
Tell me why is this woe pronounced?--"He heapeth up treasure," saith he,
"and knoweth not for whom he will gather it,"(5)--forasmuch as the labor
is certain, but the enjoyment uncertain. Very often you toil and endure
trouble for enemies. The inheritance of your wealth after your decease,
coming as it does, in many instances, to those who have injured you, and
plotted against you in a thousand ways, has assigned you the sins for your
part, but the enjoyment to others!
14. But here, it is worthy of enquiry, for what
reason he does not say, "Charge those who are rich in the present world,
not to be rich; charge them to become poor; charge them to get rid of what
they have;" but, "charge them, not to be high-minded." For he knew that
the root and foundation of riches is pride; and that if any man understood
how to be unassuming, he would not make much ado about the matter. Tell
me, indeed, for what reason thou leadest about so many servants, parasites,
and flatterers, and all the other forms of pomp? Not for necessity, but
only for pride; to the end that by these thou mayest seem more dignified
than other men! Besides, he knew that wealth is not forbidden if it be
used for that which is necessary. For as I observed,(6) wine is not a bad
thing, but drunkenness is so. A covetous man is one thing, and a rich man
is another thing. The covetous man is not rich; he is in want of many things,
and while he needs many things, he can never be rich.
349
The covetous man is a keeper, not a master, of wealth; a slave, not
a lord. For he would sooner give any one a portion of his flesh, than his
buried gold. And as though he were ordered and compelled of some one to
touch nothing of these hidden treasures, so with all earnestness he watches
and keeps them, abstaining from his own, as if it were another's. And certainly,
they are not his own. For what he can neither determine to bestow upon
others, nor to distribute to the necessitous, although he may sustain infinite
punishments, how can he possibly account his own? How does he hold possession
of those things, of which he has neither the free use, nor enjoyment? But
besides this,--Paul is not accustomed to enjoin everything on every man,
but accommodates himself to the weakness of his hearers, even, indeed,
as Christ also did. For when that rich man came to him, and asked him concerning
Life, he did not say at one, "Go, sell that thou hast,"(1) but omitting
this, he spoke to him of other commandments. Nor afterwards, when he challenged'
Him and said, "What lack I yet?" did He simply say, "Sell what thou hast;"
but, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast."(3) "I lay it
down for your determination. I give you full power to choose. I do not
lay upon you any necessity." For this reason also, Paul spoke nothing to
the rich concerning poverty, but concerning humility; as well because of
the weakness of his hearers, as because he perfectly knew, that could he
bring them to exercise moderation, and to be free from pride, he should
also quickly free them from eagerness about being rich.
15. And further, after giving this admonition, "not
to be high-minded," he also taught the manner in which they would be able
to avoid being so. And how was it? That they should consider the nature
of wealth, how uncertain and faithless it is! therefore he goes on to say,
"Neither trust in uncertain riches." The rich man is not one who is in
possession of much, but one who gives much. Abraham was rich, but he was
not covetous; for he turned not his thoughts to the house of this man,
nor prayed into the wealth of that man; but going forth he looked around
wherever there chanced to be a stranger, or a poor man, in order that he
might succour poverty, and hospitably entertain the traveller. He covered
not his roof with gold, but fixing his tent near the oak, he was contented
with the shadow of its leaves. Yet so illustrious was his lodging, that
angels were not ashamed to tarry with him; for they sought not splendour
of abode, but virtue of soul. This man then let us imitate, beloved, and
bestow what we have upon the needy. That lodging was rudely prepared, but
it was more illustrious than the halls of kings. No king has ever entertained
angels; but he, dwelling under that oak, and having but pitched a tent,
was thought worthy of that honour: not receiving the honour on account
of the meanness of his dwelling, but enjoying that benefit on account of
the magnificence of his soul, and the wealth therein deposited.
16. Let us too, then, adorn not our houses, but
our souls in preference to the house. For is it not disgraceful to clothe
our walls with marble, vainly and to no end, and to neglect Christ going
about naked? What does thy house profit thee, O man! For wilt thou take
it with thee when thou departest? This thou canst not take with thee, when
thou departest. But thy soul, when thou departest, thou shall assuredly
take with thee! Behold now this great danger has overtaken us! Let your
houses stand by you! Let them deliver you from the threatened peril! but
they cannot! And ye yourselves are witnesses, who are leaving them solitary,
and hurrying forth to the wilderness; fearing them as ye would do snares
and nets! Let riches now lend assistance! But it is no time for them to
do so! If then the power of riches is found wanting before the wrath of
man, much rather will this be the case, before the divine and inexorable
tribunal! If it is but a man that is provoked and offended, and even now
gold is of no avail, much more will the power of money be utterly impotent
then, when God is angry, who has no need of wealth! We build houses that
we may have a habitation; not that we may make an ambitious display. What
is beyond our wants, is superfluous and useless. Put on a sandal which
is larger than your foot! you will not endure it; for it is a hindrance
to the step. Thus also a house larger than necessity requires, is an impediment
to your progress towards heaven. Do you wish to build large and splendid
houses? I forbid it not; but let it be not upon the earth! Build thyself
tabernacles in heaven, and such that thou mayest be able to receive others;(4)--tabernacles
which never fall to pieces. Why art thou mad about fleeting things; and
things that must be left here? Nothing is more slippery
350
than wealth. To-day it is for thee; tomorrow it is against thee. It
arms the eyes of the envious everywhere. It is a hostile comrade, a domestic
enemy; and ye are witnesses of this, who possess it, and are in every way
burying and concealing it from view; as even now too our very wealth makes
the danger more insupportable to us! Thou seest indeed the poor ready for
action, disengaged, and prepared for all things; but the wealthy in great
perplexity, and wandering about, seeking where they may bury their gold,
or seeking with whom they may deposit it! Why, O man, dost thou seek thy
fellow slaves? Christ stands ready to receive, and to keep thy deposits
for thee; and not to keep only, but also to augment them, and to pay them
back with much interest. Out of His hand no man can forcibly take them
away. And He not only keeps the deposit, but for this very thing He also
frees thee from thy perils. For among men, they who receive treasures in
trust think that they have done us a favour, in keeping that of which they
took charge; but with Christ it is the contrary; for He does not say that
He has conferred, but that He has received a favour, when He receives thy
deposited treasures; and for the guardianship which He exercises over thy
wealth, He does not demand a recompense of thee, but gives thee a recompense
!
17. What defence then can we claim, or what excuse,
when we pass by Him who is able to keep, and who is thankful for the trust
giving in return great and unspeakable rewards, and in place of this guardianship
commit our treasures to men who have not the power to keep them, and who
think they grant us a favour, and pay us back at last only that which was
given them. Thou art a stranger and a pilgrim with respect to the things
here! Thou hast a country which is thine own in the heavens! There transfer
all;--that before the actual enjoyment, thou mayest enjoy the recompense
here. He who is nourished with good hopes, and is confident respecting
things to come, hath here already tasted of the kingdom! For nothing ordinarily
so repairs the soul, and makes a man better, as a good hope of things to
come; so that if thou transfer thy wealth there, thou mayest then provide
for thy soul with suitable leisure. For they who spend all their endeavours
upon the decoration of their dwelling, rich as they are in outward things,
are careless of that which is within, letting their soul abide desolate
and squalid, and full of cobwebs. But if they would be indifferent to exterior
things, and earnestly expend all their attention upon the mind, adorning
this at all points; then the soul of such men would be a resting place
for Christ. And having Christ for its inhabitant, what could ever be more
blessed? Wouldest thou be rich? Have God for thy friend, and thou shall
be richer than all men!--Wouldest thou be rich? Be not high-minded!--This
rule is suitable not only to things future, but to things present. For
there is no such object of envy, as a man of wealth; but when pride is
super-added, a two-fold precipice is formed; the war becomes fiercer on
all sides. But if you know how to exercise moderation, you undermine the
tyranny of envy by your humility; and you possess whatever you do possess
with safety. For such is the nature of virtue, that it not only profits
us, as it respects futurity, but it also here bestows a present reward.
18. Let us not then be high-minded in reference
to riches, or indeed to any other thing; for if even in spiritual things
the man who is high-minded is fallen, and undone, much more so as to carnal
things. Let us be mindful of our nature. Let us recollect our sins. Let
us understand what we are; and this will provide a sufficient groundwork
for complete humility. Tell me not, "I have laid up the revenues of this
or that number of years; myriads of talents of gold; gains that are increasing
every day." Say as much as you will, you say all in vain, and to no purpose.
Very often in one hour, yea, in one short moment, just as the light dust,
when the wind rushes down upon it from above, are all these things swept
out of the house by a blast. Our life is full of such examples, and the
Scriptures abound with lessons of this sort. He who is rich to-day, is
poor tomorrow. Wherefore, I have often smiled, when reading wills that
said, let such a man have the ownership of these fields, or of this house,
and another the use thereof. For we all have the use, but no man has the
ownership.(1) For although riches may remain with us all our lifetime,
undergoing no change, we must transfer them in the end, whether we will
or no, into the hands of others; having enjoyed only the use of them, and
departing to another life naked and destitute of this ownership! Whence
it is plain, that they only have the ownership of property, who have despised
its use, and derided its enjoyment. For the man that has cast his substance
away from him, and bestowed it on the poor, he uses it as he ought; and
takes with him the ownership of these things when he departs, not being
stripped of the possession even in
351
death, but at that time receiving all back again; yea, and much more
than these things, at that day of judgment, when he most needs their protection,(1)
and when we shall all have to render up an account of the deeds we have
done. So that if any one wishes to have the possession of his riches, and
the use and the ownership entire, let him disencumber himself from them
all; since, truly, he who doth not this must at all events be separated
from them at death; and frequently before his death will lose them, in
the midst of dangers and innumerable ills.
19. And this is not the only disaster, that the
change comes suddenly; but that the rich man comes unpractised to the endurance
of poverty. But not so the poor man; for he confides not in gold and silver,
which are lifeless matter, but in "God, who giveth us all things richly
to enjoy." So that the rich man stands in more uncertainty than the poor
man, experiencing, as he does, frequent and diversified changes. What is
the sense of this? "Who giveth to us all things richly to enjoy."(2) God
giveth all those things with liberality, which are more necessary than
riches; such, for example, as the air, the water, the fire, the sun; all
things of this kind. The rich man is not able to say that he enjoys more
of the sunbeams than the poor man; he is not able to say that he breathes
more plenteous air: but all these are offered alike to all. And wherefore,
one may say, is it the greater and more necessary blessings, and those
which maintain our life, that God hath made common; but the smaller and
less valuable (I speak of money) are not thus common. Why is this?
In order that our life might be disciplined, and that we might
have training ground for virtue. For if these necessaries were not common,
perhaps they who are rich, practising their usual covetousness, would strangle
those who were poor. For if they do this for the sake of money, much rather
would they do so for the things referred to. Again, if money was also an
universal possession, and were offered in the same manner to all, the occasion
for almsgiving, and the opportunity for benevolence, would be taken away.
20. That we may live then securely, the sources
of our existence have been made common. On the other hand, to the end that
we may have an opportunity of gaining crowns and good report, property
has not been made common; in order that hating covetousness, and following
after righteousness, and freely bestowing our goods upon the poor, we may
by this method obtain a certain kind of relief for our sins.(3) God hath
made thee rich, why makest thou thyself poor? He hath made thee rich that
thou mayest assist the needy; that thou mayest have release of thine own
sins, by liberality to others. He hath given thee money, not that thou
mayest shut it up for thy destruction, but that thou mayest pour it forth
for thy salvation. For this reason also He hath made the possession of
riches uncertain and unstable, that by this means he might slack the intensity
of thy madness concerning it. For if its possessors, even now whilst they
can have no confidence in regard to it, but behold a multitude of snares
produced from this quarter, are so inflamed with the desire of these things;
if the elements of security and stability were added to wealth, whom would
they have spared? From whom would they have refrained? From what
widows? From what orphans? From what poor?
21. Wherefore let us not consider riches to be a
great good; for the great good is, not to possess money, but to possess
the fear of God and all manner of piety. Behold, now if there were any
righteous man here, having great boldness toward God,(4) notwithstanding
he might be the poorest of mortals, he would be sufficient to liberate
us from present evils! For he only needed to spread forth his hands towards
heaven, and to call upon God, and this cloud would pass away! But now gold
is treasured up in abundance; and yet it is more useless than mere clay
for the purpose of deliverance from the impending calamities! Nor is it
only in a peril of this kind; but should disease or death, or any such
evil befall us, the impotency of wealth is fully proved, since it is at
a loss, and has no consolation of its own to offer us amidst these events.
22. There is one thing in which wealth seems to
have an advantage over poverty, viz. that it lives in a state of daily
luxury, and is supplied with an abundance of pleasure in its banquets.
This however may also be seen exemplified at the table of the poor; and
these enjoy there a pleasure superior to that of the rich. And marvel not
at this, nor think what I say a paradox; for I will make the matter clear
to you from the evidence of facts. Ye know of course, and ye all confess
352
that in feasts it is not the nature of the viands, but the disposition
of those who feast upon them, which usually causes the pleasure; for instance,
when any one comes to the table hungry, the food will taste sweeter than
any delicacy, or condiment, or a thousand exquisite preparations for the
palate, although it may be the most common article of diet. But he who
without tarrying for necessity, or first waiting till he is hungry, (as
the custom is with the wealthy), when he comes to the table, notwithstanding
he finds the most refined dainties spread before him, has no sensation
of pleasure, his appetite not being previously excited. And that you may
learn that this is the actual state of the case, besides that you are all
witnesses to it, let us hear the Scripture telling us the same truth; "The
full soul," it is said, "loaths the honey comb, but to the hungry soul
every bitter thing is sweet."(1) Yet what can be sweeter than honey, and
the honey comb? Still he saith it is not sweet to the man that is not hungry.
And what can be more disagreeable than bitter things? And yet to
those who are poverty stricken they are sweet. But that the poor come to
the meal with need and hunger, and that the rich do not wait for this is
manifest, I suppose, to every one. Hence they do not reap the fruit of
a genuine and unmixed pleasure. Nor is it only in the article of food,
but any one may perceive that the same thing occurs with respect to drinks;
and as in the one case hunger is the cause of pleasure, far more than the
quality of the viands, so also in the other, thirst usually makes the draught
sweetest, although what is drunk is only water. And this is that which
the prophet intimated, when he said, "He Satisfied them with honey out
of the rock."(2) But we do not read in any part of Scripture that Moses
brought honey out of the rock, but throughout the history we read of rivers,
and waters, and cool streams. What then is it that was meant? For the Scripture
by no means speaks falsely. Inasmuch, then, as they were thirsty and wearied
with drought, and found these streams of water so cooling, in order to
show the pleasure of such a draught, he calls the water honey, not as though
its nature were changed into honey, but because the condition of the drinkers
made these streams sweeter than honey. You see how the condition of the
thirsty is wont to make the draught sweet? Yea oftentimes have many of
the poor, when wearied, and distressed, and parched with thirst,
partaken of such streams even with such pleasure as I have said.
But the rich, whilst drinking wine that is sweet, and has the fragrance
of flowers? and every perfection that wine can have, experience no such
enjoyment.
23. The same thing happens as every one may perceive
with regard to sleep. For not a soft couch, nor a bedstead overlaid with
silver, nor the quietness that exists throughout the house, nor anything
else of this kind, are so generally wont to make sleep sweet and pleasant,
as labour and fatigue, and the need of sleep, and drowsiness when one lies
down. And to this particular the experience of facts, nay, before actual
experience, the assertion of the Scriptures bears witness. For Solomon,
who had passed his life in luxury, when he wished to make this matter evident,
said, "The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or
much?"(4) Why does he add, "whether he eat little or much?" Both these
things usually bring sleeplessness, viz. indigence, and excess of food;
the one drying up the body, stiffening the eyelids and not suffering them
to be closed; the other straitening and oppressing the breath, and inducing
many pains. But at the same time so powerful a persuasive is labour, that
though both these things should befall him, the servant is able to sleep.
For since throughout the whole day, they are running about everywhere,
ministering to their masters, being knocked about(5) and hard pressed,
and having but little time to take breath, they receive a sufficient recompense
for their toils and labours in the pleasure of sleeping. And thus it hath
happened through the goodness of God toward man, that these pleasures are
not to be purchased with gold and silver, but with labour, with hard toil,
with necessity, and every kind of discipline. Not so the rich. On the contrary,
whilst lying on their beds, they are frequently without sleep through the
whole night; and though they devise many schemes, they do not obtain such
pleasure. But the poor man when released from his daily labours, having
his limbs completely tired, falls almost before he can lie down into a
slumber that is sound, and sweet, and genuine, enjoying this reward, which
is not a small one, of his fair day's toils. Since therefore the poor man
sleeps, and drinks, and eats with more pleasure than the rich man, what
further value is left to riches, now deprived of the one advantage they
seemed to have over poverty? For this reason also, from the beginning,
God tied the man to labour, not for the purpose of pun-
353
ishing or chastising, but for amendment and education. When Adam lived
an unlabourious life, he fell from Paradise, but when the Apostle laboured
abundantly, and toiled hard, and said, "In labour and travail,working night
and day,"(1) then he was taken up into Paradise, and ascended to the third
heaven!
24. Let us not then despise labour; let us not despise
work; for before the kingdom of Heaven, we receive the greatest recompense
from thence, deriving pleasure from that circumstance; and not pleasure
only, but what is greater than pleasure, the purest health. For in addition
to their want of relish, many diseases also attack the rich; but the poor
are freed from the hands of physicians; and if at times they do fall into
a sickness, they recover themselves quickly, being far removed from all
effeminacy, and having robust constitutions. Poverty, to those who bear
it wisely, is a great possession, a treasure that cannot be taken away;
the stoutest of staves; a way of gain(2) that cannot be thwarted; a lodging
that is safe from snares. The poor man, it may be objected, is oppressed.
But then the rich man is still more subject to adverse designs. The poor
man is looked down upon and insulted. But the rich man is the subject of
envy. The poor man is not so easily assailed as the rich man, offering,
as the latter does on every side, countless handles to the devil, and to
his secret foes; and being the servant of all, on account of the great
extent of his business. Standing in need of many things, he is compelled
to flatter many persons, and to minister to them with much servility. But
the poor man, if he knows how to be spiritually wise, is not assailable
even by the devil himself. Job therefore, strong as he was before this,
when he lost all, became still more powerful, and bore away an(3) illustrious
victory from the devil!
25. But besides this, the poor man cannot possibly
be injured, if he knows how to be spiritually wise. Now what I said of
pleasure, that it consisted not in a costly provision of meats, but in
the disposition of those who eat, this also I say respecting an insult;
that the insult is either created or destroyed, not by the intention of
those who insult, but by the disposition of those who bear it. For example.
Some one hath insulted thee with much language, fit or unfit to repeat.
If thou shall laugh at the insults, if thou take not the words to heart,
if thou showest thyself superior to the blow, thou art not insulted. And
just as if we possessed an adamantine body, we should not be hurt, were
we even attacked on all sides by a thousand darts, for darts beget wounds
not from the hand of him who hurls them, but from the bodies of those who
receive them, so too in this case, insults are constituted real and dishonourable
ones, not from the folly of those who offer them, but from the weakness
of the insulted. For if we know how to be truly wise, we are incapable
of being insulted, or of suffering any serious evils. Some one it may be
hath offered thee an insult, but thou hast not felt it? thou hast not been
pained. Then thou art not insulted, but hast given rather than received
a blow! For when the insulting person perceives that his blow did not reach
the soul of those who were reviled, he is himself the more severely fretted;
and whilst those who are reproached remain silent, the insulting blow is
turned backwards, and recoils of its own accord upon him who aimed it.
26. In all things then, beloved, let us be spiritually
wise, and poverty will be able to do us no harm, but will benefit us exceedingly,
and render us more illustrious and wealthy than the richest. For tell me
who was poorer than Elias? Yet for this reason he surpassed all the wealthy,
in that he was so poor, and this very poverty of his was his own choice
from an opulence of mind. For since he accounted the wealth of all riches
to be beneath his magnanimity, and not worthy of his spiritual wisdom,
therefore he welcomed this kind of poverty; so that if he had considered
present things as of much worth, he would not have possessed only a mantle.
But so did he contemn the vanity of the life that now is, and regard all
gold as clay east into the street,(4) that he possessed himself of nothing
more than that covering. Therefore the king had need of the poor man, and
he who had so much gold hung upon the words of him who had nothing more
than a sheepskin. Thus was the sheepskin s more splendid than the purple,
and the cave of the just man than the halls of kings. Therefore also when
he went up to heaven, he left nothing to his disciple save the sheepskin.
"By the help of this," said he, "I have wrestled with the devil, and taking
this, be thou armed against him!" For indigence is a powerful weapon, an
unassailable retreat, an unshaken fortress! Elisha received the sheepskin
as the greatest inheritance; for it was truly such; a more precious one
than all gold. And thenceforth(6) that Elias was a twofold person; an Elias
above and an Elias below!
354
I know ye account that just person blessed, and ye would each desire to be that person. What then if I show you that all among us, who are initiated,(1) have received something far greater than he did? For Elias left a sheepskin to his disciple, but the Son of God ascending left to us His own flesh! Elias indeed, cast off his mantle, before he went up; but Christ left it behind for our sakes; and yet retained it when He ascended. Let us not then be cast down. Let us not lament, nor fear the difficulty of the times, for He who did not refuse to pour out His blood for all, and has suffered us to partake of His flesh and of His blood again,(2) what will He refuse to do for our safety? Confident then in these hopes, let us beseech Him continually; let us be earnest in prayers and supplications; and let us with all strictness give our attention to every other virtue; that so we may escape the danger that now threatens, and obtain the good things to come; which God grant we may all be worthy of, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom, and with Whom be glory to the Father together with the Holy Ghost, forever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY III.
On the departure of Flavian,(1) Bishop of Antioch, who was gone on an
embassy to the Emperor Theodosius, on behalf of the city. Of the dignity
of the Priesthood. What is true fasting. Slander worse than devouring the
human body. And finally of those who had been put to death on account of
the sedition; and against those who complained that many innocent persons
were apprehended.
1. WHEN I took on that throne, deserted and bereft
of our teacher, I rejoice and weep at the same time. I weep, because I
see not our father with us! but I rejoice that he hath set out on a journey
for our preservation; that he is gone to snatch so great a multitude from
the wrath of the Emperor! Here is both an ornament to you, and a crown
to him! An ornament to you, that such a father hath been allotted to you;
a crown to him, because he is so affectionate towards his children, and
hath confirmed by actual deeds what Christ said. For having learnt that
"the good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep,"(2) he took his
departure; venturing his own life for us all, notwithstanding there were
many things to hinder his absence, and enforce his stay. And first, his
time of life, extended as it is to the utmost limits of old age; next,
his bodily infirmity, and the season of the year, as well as the necessity
for his presence at the holy festival; and besides these reasons, his only
sister even now at her last breath! He has disregarded, however, the ties
of kindred, of old age, of infirmity, and the severity of the season, and
the toils of the journey; and preferring you and your safety above all
things, he has broken through all these restraints. And, even as a youth,
the aged man is now hastening along, borne upon the wings of zeal! For
if Christ (saith he) gave Himself for us, what excuse or pardon should
we deserve, having undertaken the charge of so numerous a people, if we
were not ready to do and to suffer anything for the security of those committed
into our hands. For if (continues he) the patriarch Jacob, when in charge
of flocks, and feeding brute sheep, and having to give account to man,
passed sleepless nights, and bore heat and
355
cold, and all the inclemency of the elements, to the end that not one
of those animals might perish, much less doth it become us, who preside
over those, who are not irrational, but spiritual sheep; who are about
to give an account of this charge, not to man, but to God, to be slack
in any respect, or shrink from anything which might benefit the flock.
Besides, in proportion as the latter flock is superior to the former; men
to brutes, and God to men; so it behoves us to manifest a greater and more
intense anxiety and diligence. He knows well that his concern is now, not
for one city only, but for the whole of the East. For our city is the head
and mother of all that lie towards the East. For this reason he would encounter
every danger, and nothing would avail to detain him here.
2. On this account I trust that there may be a good
hope; for God will not disdain to took upon such earnestness and zeal,
nor will He suffer his servant to return without success. I know that when
he has barely seen our pious Emperor, and been seen by him, he will be
able at once by his very countenance to allay his wrath. For not only the
words of the saints, but their very countenances are full of grace. And
he is a person too endowed with abundant wisdom; and being well skilled
in the divine laws, he will say to him as Moses said to God, "Yet now,
if thou wilt forgive their sin;--and if not, slay me together with them."(1)
For such are the bowels of the saints, that they think death with their
children sweeter than life without them. He will also make the special
season his advocate and shelter himself behind the sacred festival of the
Passover; and will remind the Emperor of the season when Christ remitted
the sins of the whole world. He will exhort him to imitate his Lord. He
will also remind him of that parable of the ten thousand talents, and the
hundred pence. I know the boldness of our father, that he will not hesitate
to alarm him from the parable, and to say, "Take heed lest thou also hear
it said in that day, 'O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt,
because thou desirest me; you ought also to forgive thy fellow-servants!'(2)
Thou dost to thyself a greater benefit than them, since by pardoning these
few offences thou gainest an amnesty for greater." To this address he will
add that prayer, which those who initiated him into the sacred mystery
taught him to offer up, and say, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our
debtors."(3)
3. He will moreover inform him, that the offence
was not common to the whole city, but the deed of certain strangers and
adventurers, men that act upon no deliberate plan, but with every sort
of audacity and lawlessness; and that it would not be just for the disorderly
conduct of a few to extirpate so great a city, and to punish those who
had done no wrong; and that even though all had been transgressors, they
had paid a sufficient punishment, being consumed by fear so many days,
and expecting every day to be put to death, and being exiles and fugitives;
thus living more wretchedly than condemned criminals, carrying their life
in their hands, and having no confidence of escape! "Let this punishment
(he will say) suffice. Carry not thy resentment further! Make the Judge
above merciful to thyself, by humanity towards thy fellow-servants! Think
of the greatness of the city, and that the question now is not concerning
one, or two, or three, or ten souls, but of a vast multitude too numerous
to be reckoned up! It is a question which affects the capital of the whole
world. This is the city in which Christians were first called by that name.(4)
Honor Christ. Reverence the city which first proclaimed that name, so lovely
and sweet to all! This city hath been the tabernacle of Apostles; the dwelling
place of the just! And now this is the first and only instance of insurrection
against its rulers; and all past time will bear favourable witness to the
manners of the city. For had the people been continually given to sedition,
it might have been necessary to make an example of such iniquity; but if
this hath happened only once in all time, it is plain that the offence
has not arisen from the habit of the city, but that it was the transgression
of those who had in an evil hour by mere random chance arrived there.
4. These things and more than these the priest will
say with still greater boldness; and the Emperor will listen to them; and
one is humane, and the other is faithful; so that on both sides we entertain
favourable hopes. But much more do we rely upon the mercy of God, than
upon the fidelity of our Teacher and the humanity of the Emperor. For whilst
the Emperor is supplicated, and the priest is supplicating, He Himself
will interpose, softening the heart of the Emperor, and exciting the tongue
of the priest; facilitating
356
his utterance;--preparing the mind of the other to receive what is said
and with much indulgence, to accede to the petitions. For our city is dearer
to Christ than all others both because of the virtue of our ancestors,
and of your own. And as Peter was the first among the apostles to preach
Christ, so as I said before, this city was the first of cities that adorned
itself by assuming the Christian appellation, as a sort of admirable diadem.
But if where only ten just men were found, God promised to save all who
dwelt therein, why should we not expect a favourable issue, and become
assured of all our lives, when there are not only ten, twenty, or twice
so many only, but far more; who are serving God with all strictness.
5. I have heard many saying, "The threats of a king
are like the wrath of a lion;"(1) being full of dejection and lamentation.
What then should we say to such? That He who said, "The wolves and the
lambs shall feed together; and the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
and tile lion shall eat straw like the ox,"(2) will be able to convert
the lion into a mild lamb. Let us therefore supplicate Him; let us send
an embassy to Him; and He will doubtless allay the Emperor's wrath, and
deliver us from the impending distress. Our Father hath gone thither on
this embassy. Let us go on embassy from hence to the Majesty of heaven!
Let us assist him by prayers! The community of the Church can do much,
if with a sorrowful soul, and with a contrite spirit, we offer up our prayers!
It is unnecessary to cross the ocean, or to undertake a long journey. Let
every man and woman among us, whether meeting together at church, or re
maining at home, call upon God with much earnestness, and He will doubtless
accede to these petitions.
Whence does this appear evident? Because He is exceedingly
desirous, that we should always take refuge in Him, and in everything make
our requests unto Him; and do nothing and speak nothing without Him. For
men, when we trouble them repeatedly concerning our affairs, become slothful
and evasive, and conduct themselves unpleasantly towards us; but with God
it is quite the reverse. Not when we apply to him continually respecting
our affairs, but when we fail to do so, then is he especially displeased.
Hear at least what He reproves the Jews for, when He says, "Ye have taken
counsel, but not of Me, and made treaties,(3) but not by My Spirit."(4)
For this is the custom of those who love; they desire that all the concerns
of their beloved should be accomplished by means of themselves; and that
they should neither do anything, nor say anything, without them. On this
account did God not only on that occasion, but again elsewhere, uttering
a reproof, speak the same language. "They(5) have reigned, but not by Me;
they have ruled, and they made it not known to Me."(6) Let us not then
be slow to take refuge in Him continually: and whatever be the evil, it
will in any case find its appropriate solution.
6. Doth a man affright you? Hasten to the Lord above,
and thou wilt suffer no evil. Thus the ancients had release from their
calamities; and not men only, but also women. There was a certain Hebrew
woman, Esther was her name. This Esther rescued the whole people of the
Jews, when they were about to be delivered over to destruction, by this
very method. For when the Persian king gave orders that all the Jews should
be utterly destroyed, and there was no one who was able to stand in the
way of his wrath, this woman having divested herself of the splendid robe,
and clothed herself with sackcloth and being besprinkled with ashes, supplicated
the merciful God to go in with her to the king; and offering up her prayer
to Him, these were the words she uttered, "O Lord, make my words acceptable,(7)
and put eloquent speech in my mouth."(8) Let this be the prayer which we
offer to God for our Teacher. For if a woman, supplicating on behalf of
the Jews, prevailed to allay the wrath of a barbarian, much rather will
our Teacher, entreating on behalf of so great a city, and in conjunction
with so great a Church, be able to persuade this most mild and merciful
Emperor. For if he hath received authority to loose sins committed against
God, much more will he be able to take away and blot out those which have
been committed against a man. He is also himself a ruler and a ruler of
more dignity than the other. For the sacred laws take and place under his
hands even the royal head. And when there is need of any good thing from
above, the Emperor is accustomed to fly to the priest: but not the priest
to the Emperor. He(9) too hath his breast-plate, that of right-
357
eousness.(1) He too hath his girdle, that of truth, and sandals (2)
of much greater dignity, those of the Gospel of peace. He too hath a sword,
not of iron, but of the Spirit; he too hath a crown resting on his head.
This panoply is the more splendid. The weapons are grander, the license
of speech greater,(3) and mightier(4) the strength. So that from the weight
of his authority, and from his own greatness of soul; and more than all
the rest, from the hope which he has in God, he will address the Emperor
with much freedom and much discretion.
7. Let us not then despair of our safety, but let
us pray; let us make invocation; let us supplicate; let us go on embassy
to the King that is above with many tears! We have this fast too as an
ally, and as an assistant in this good intercession. Therefore, as when
the winter is over and the summer is appearing, the sailor draws his vessel
to the deep; and the soldier burnishes his arms, and makes ready his steed
for the battle; and the husbandman sharpens his sickle; and the traveller
boldly undertakes a long journey, and the wrestler strips and bares himself
for the contest. So too, when the fast makes its appearance, like a kind
of spiritual summer, let us as soldiers burnish our weapons; and as husbandmen
let us sharpen our sickle; and as sailors let us order our thoughts against
the waves of extravagant desires; and as travellers let us set out on the
journey towards heaven; and as wrestlers let us strip for the contest.
For the believer is at once a husbandman, and a sailor, and a soldier,
a wrestler, and a traveller. Hence St. Paul saith, "We wrestle not against
flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers. Put on therefore
the whole armour of God."(5) Hast thou observed the wrestler? Hast thou
observed the soldier? If thou art a wrestler, it is necessary for thee
to engage in the conflict naked. If a soldier, it behoves thee to stand
in the battle line armed at all points. How then are both these things
possible, to be naked, and yet not naked; to be clothed, and yet not clothed!
How? I will tell thee. Divest thyself of worldly business, and thou hast
become a wrestler. Put on the spiritual armour, and thou hast become a
soldier. Strip thyself of worldly cares, for the season is one of wrestling.
Clothe thyself with the spiritual armour, for we have a heavy warfare to
wage with demons. Therefore also it is needful we should be naked, so as
to offer nothing that the devil may take hold of, while he is wrestling
with us; and to be fully armed at all points, so as on no side to receive
a deadly blow. Cultivate thy soul. Cut away the thorns. Sow the word of
godliness. Propagate and nurse with much care the fair plants of divine
wisdom, and thou hast become a husbandman. And Paul will say to thee, "The
husbandman that laboureth must be first partaker of the fruits. He too
himself practised this art. Therefore writing to the Corinthians, he said,
"I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase."(7) Sharpen
thy sickle, which thou hast blunted through gluttony--sharpen it by fasting.
Lay hold of the pathway which leads towards heaven; rugged and narrow as
it is, lay hold of it, and journey on. And how mayest thou be able to do
these things? By subduing thy body, and bringing it into subjection. For
when the way grows narrow, the corpulence that comes of gluttony is a great
hindrance. Keep down the waves of inordinate desires. Repel the tempest
of evil thoughts. Preserve the bark; display much skill, and thou hast
become a pilot. But we shall have the fast for a groundwork and instructor
in all these things.
8. I speak not, indeed, of such a fast as most persons
keep, but of real fasting; not merely an abstinence from meats; but from
sins too. For the nature of a fast is such, that it does not suffice to
deliver those who practise it, unless it be done according to a suitable
law.(8) "For the wrestler," it is said, "is not crowned unless he strive
lawfully."(9) To the end then, that when we have gone through the labour
of fasting, we forfeit not the crown of fasting, we should understand how,
and after what manner, it is necessary to conduct this business; since
that Pharisee also fasted,(10) but afterwards went down empty, and destitute
of the fruit of fasting. The
358
Publican fasted not; and yet he was accepted in preference to him who
had fasted; in order that thou mayest learn that fasting is unprofitable,
except all other duties follow with it. The Ninevites fasted, and won the
favour of God.(1) The Jews, fasted too, and profited nothing, nay, they
departed with blame.(2) Since then the danger in fasting is so great to
those who do not know how they ought to fast, we should learn the laws
of this exercise, in order that we may not "run uncertainly," nor "beat
the air," nor while we are fighting contend with a shadow. Fasting is a
medicine; but a medicine, though it be never so profitable,
becomes frequently useless owing to the unskilfulness of him who employs
it. For it is necessary to know, moreover, the time when it should be applied,
and the requisite quantity of it; and the temperament of body that admits
it; and the nature of the country, and the season of the year; and the
corresponding diet; as well as various other particulars; any of which,
if one overlooks, he will mar all the rest that have been named. Now if,
when the body needs healing, such exactness is required on our part, much
more ought we, when our care is about the soul, and we seek to heal the
distempers of the mind, to look, and to search into every particular with
the utmost accuracy.
9. Let us see then how the Ninevites fasted, and
how they were delivered from that wrath--"Let neither man nor beast, herd
nor flock, taste anything,"(3) saith (the prophet). What sayest thou? Tell
me--must even the irrational things fast, and the horses and the mules
be covered with sackcloth? "Even so," he replies. For as when, at the decease
of some rich man, the relatives clothe not only the men servants and maid
servants, but the horses also with sackcloth, and give orders that they
should follow the procession to the sepulchre, led by their grooms; thus
signifying the greatness of the calamity, and inviting all to pity; thus
also, indeed, when that city was about to be destroyed, even the irrational
nature was enveloped in sackcloth, and subjected to the yoke of fasting.
"It is not possible," saith he, "that irrational creatures should learn
the wrath of God by means of reason; let them be taught by means of fasting,
that this stroke is of divine infliction. For if the city should be overturned,
not only would it be one common sepulchre for us, the dwellers therein,
but for these likewise. Inasmuch then as these would participate in the
punishment, let them also do so in the fast. But there was yet another
thing which they aimed at in this act, which the prophets also are wont
to do. For these, when they see some dreadful chastisement proceeding from
heaven, and those who are to be punished without anything to say for themselves;--laden
with shame,--unworthy of the least pardon or excuse:--not knowing
what to do, nor from whence they may procure an advocacy for the condemned,
they have recourse to the things irrational; and describing their death
in tragical fashion, they make intercession by them, putting forward as
a plea their pitiable and mournful destruction. When therefore, aforetime,
famine had seized upon the Jews, and a great drought oppressed their country,
and all things were being consumed, one of the prophets spoke thus, "The
young heifers leaped in their stalls; the herds of oxen wept, because there
was no pasture; all the cattle of the field looked upward to Thee, because
the streams of waters were dried up."(4) Another prophet bewailing the
evils of drought again speaks to this effect: "The hinds calved in the
fields and forsook it, because there was no grass. The wild asses did stand
in the forests; they snuffed up the wind like a dragon; their eyes did
fail, because there was no grass."(5) Moreover, ye have heard Joel saying
to-day, "Let the bridegroom go forth of his chamber, and the bride out
of her closet;--the infants that suck the breast."(6) For what reason,
I ask, does he call so immature an age to supplication? Is it not plainly
for the very same reason? For since all who have arrived at the age of
manhood, have inflamed and provoked God's wrath, let the age, saith he,
which is devoid of transgressions supplicate Him who is provoked.
10. But, as I said before, we may see what it was
that dissolved such inexorable wrath. Was it, forsooth, fasting only and
sackcloth? We say not so; but the change of their whole life. Whence does
this appear? From the very language of the prophet. For he who hath discoursed
of the wrath of God, and of their fasting,(7) himself too, when speaking
of the reconciliation, and teaching us the cause of the reconciliation,
speaks to this effect; "And God saw their works."(8) What kind of
359
works? That they had fasted? That they had put on sackcloth? Nothing
of the sort: but passing all these points in silence, he adds, "That they
turned every one from their evil ways, and the Lord repented of the evil
that He had said He would do unto them." Seest thou, that fasting did not
rescue from this danger, but it was the change of life, which rendered
God propitious and kind to these barbarians?
11. I have said these things, not that we may disparage
fasting, but that we may honour fasting; for the honour of fasting consists
not in abstinence from food, but in withdrawing from sinful practices;
since he who limits his fasting only to an abstinence from meats, is one
who especially disparages it. Dost thou fast? Give me proof of it by thy
works! Is it said by what kind of works? If thou seest a poor man, take
pity on him! If thou seest in enemy, be reconciled to him! If thou
seest a friend gaining honour, envy him not If thou seest a handsome woman,
pass her by! For let not the mouth only fast, but also the eye, and the
ear, and the feet, and the hands, and all the members of our bodies. Let
the hands fast, by being pure from rapine and avarice. Let the feet fast,
by ceasing from running to the unlawful spectacles. Let the eyes fast,
being taught never(1) to fix themselves rudely upon handsome countenances,
or to busy themselves with strange beauties. For looking is the food of
the eyes, but if this be such as is unlawful or forbidden, it mars the
fast; and upsets the whole safety of the soul; but if it be lawful and
safe, it adorns fasting. For it would be among things the most absurd to
abstain from lawful food because of the fast, but with the eyes to touch
even what is forbidden. Dost thou not eat flesh? Feed not upon lasciviousness
by means of the eyes. Let the ear fast also. The fasting of the ear consists
in refusing to receive evil speakings and calumnies. "Thou shalt not receive
a false report,"(2) it says.
12. Let the mouth too fast from disgraceful speeches
and railing. For what doth it profit if we abstain from birds and fishes;(3)
and yet bite and devour our brethren? The evil speaker eateth the flesh
of his brother, and biteth the body of his neighbour. Because of this Paul
utters the fearful saying, "If ye bite and devour one another, take heed
that ye be not consumed one of another."(4) Thou hast not fixed thy teeth
in the flesh, but thou hast fixed the slander in the soul, and inflicted
the wound of evil suspicion; thou hast harmed, in a thousand ways, thyself
and him, and many others, for in slandering a neighbour thou hast made
him who listens to the slander worse;(5) for should he be a wicked man,
he becomes more careless when he finds a partner in his wickedness; and
should he be a just man, he is lifted to arrogance, and puffed up; being
led on by the sin of others to imagine great things concerning himself.
Besides,(6) thou hast struck at the common welfare of the Church; for all
those who hear not only accuse the supposed sinner, but the reproach is
fastened on the Christian community; neither dost thou hear the unbelievers
saying, "Such a person is a fornicator, or a libertine;" but instead of
the individual who hath sinned, they accuse all Christians. In addition
to this,(7) thou hast caused the glory of God to be blasphemed; for as
His Name is glorified when we have good report, so when we sin, it is blasphemed
and insulted!
13. A fourth reason is, that thou hast disgraced
him who is ill reported; and hast thus rendered him more shameless than
he was, by placing him in a state of enmity and hostility. Fifthly, thou
hast made thyself liable to chastisement and vengeance; by involving(8)
thyself in matters which in no way concerned thee. For let not any one
tell me in reply, "Then I am an evil speaker when I speak falsely, but
if I speak what is true, I cease to be so." Although it be with truth thou
speakest evil, this also is a crime. For that Pharisee spake evil of the
Publican with truth; but nevertheless this availed him not. For was not
the latter, I ask, a publican and a sinner? It is manifest to every one
that he was a publican. But at the same time inasmuch as the Pharisee spoke
ill of him, he departed from the temple with the loss of every advantage.
Dost thou wish to correct a brother? Weep; pray unto God; taking him apart,
admonish, counsel, entreat him! So also Paul did, "Lest," saith he, "when
I come again, my God will humble me among you, and I shall bewail many
which have sinned already, and have not repented of the uncleanness and
fornication and lasciviousness which they have committed."(9) Show thy
charity towards the sinner. Persuade him that it is from care and anxiety
for his welfare, and not from a wish to expose him, that thou puttest him
in mind of his sin. Take hold of his feet; embrace him; be not
360
ashamed, if thou truly desirest to cure him. Physicians too do things
of this sort, oftentimes, when their patients are hard to please;(1) by
embraces and entreaties they at length persuade them to take a salutary
medicine. Thus also do thou. Show the wound to the priest;(2) that is the
part of one who cares for him, and provides for him, and is anxious on
his behalf.
14. But not only do I now admonish the evil speakers;
but those besides, who hear others ill spoken of, I exhort to stop up their
ears, and to imitate the prophet who saith, "Whoso privily slandereth his
neighbour, him will I punish."(3) Say to thy neighbour, "Hast thou any
one to praise or highly to commend? I open my ears, to receive the fragrant
oil; but if thou hast any evil to say, I block up the entrance to thy words,--for
I am not to admit dung and dirt. What profit doth it afford me to learn
that such a one is a bad man? The greatest injury indeed results from this,
and the worst loss!" Say to him, "Let us be anxious about our own faults;
how we may render up an account of our own transgressions; and exhibit
this sort of curiosity and meddlesome activity respecting our own lives.
What excuse or pardon shall we find; whilst we never even take into consideration
our own affairs, but thus inquisitively pry into those of others!" And
as it is mean and extremely disgraceful to peer into a house, and to observe
what is within as one passes, so also to make inquisition into another
man's life is the last degree of illiberality. But what is yet more ridiculous
is, that those who lead this sort of life, and are neglectful of their
own affairs, when they have mentioned any of these secret matters, beseech
and adjure him who has heard it, not to mention it more to any other person;
thus making it plain that they have done an action which deserves censure.
For if thou beseechest him to tell this to no other person, much more did
it not become thee to tell these things first to him. The matter was safe
while in thy possession; now, after betraying it, thou art grown
anxious for its safety. If thou art desirous that it be not carried abroad
to another,(4) do not thyself tell it. But when thou hast betrayed the
custody of the matter to another, thou doest what is superfluous and useless,
in charging him, and putting him on oath for the safety of what has been
spoken.
15. "But it is sweet to slander." Nay, it is sweet
not to speak evil. For he that hath spoken evil is henceforth contentious;
he is suspicious and he fears, repents, and gnaws his own tongue. Being
timorous and trembling, lest at any time, what he said should be carried
to others, and bring great peril, and useless and needless enmity, on the
sayer. But he who keeps the matter to himself, will spend his days in safety,
with much pleasantness. "Thou hast heard a word," we read, "let it die
with thee; and be bold; it will(5) not burst thee."(6) What is the meaning
of this? "let it die with thee?" Extinguish it; bury it; neither permit
it to go forth, nor even to move at all; but, as the best course, be careful
not to tolerate others in the practice of evil speaking. And should you
perchance, at any time receive an impression from it, bury it, destroy
what has been uttered, deliver it over to oblivion; in order that you may
become like those who have not heard it; and spend the present life with
much peace and security. Should the slanderers learn that we abhor them
more than those do whom they accuse, they themselves will henceforth abandon
this evil habit, and correct the sin; and will afterwards applaud, and
proclaim us as those who were their saviours and benefactors. For, as to
speak well, and to applaud, is the beginning of friendship, so to speak
ill and to calumniate, has been the beginning and foundation of enmity,
and hatred, and a thousand quarrels. From nothing else have our own affairs
been more neglected, than from the habit of prying into and meddling with
the concerns of others; for it is not possible for one who is given to
evil speaking, and busying himself with other men's lives, ever to look
after his own life. His whole study being expended upon meddling with other
men's matters, all those which belong to himself must of necessity be left
at hazard and neglected. For it is well if one who spends all his leisure
on the anxious consideration of his own sins, and the judgment of them,
can make any progress. But when thou art always busy about other men's
matters, when wilt thou pay any heed to thy own evils?
16. Let us flee then, beloved, let us flee slander!
knowing that it is the very gulph of Satan, and the place where he lurks
with his snares. For in order that we may be careless of our own state,
and may thus render
361
our account heavier, the devil leads us into this custom. But
more than this it is not only a very serious matter, that we shall
hereafter have to give account of what we have spoken, but that we shall
make our own offences the heavier by these means; depriving ourselves of
all excuse. For he who scans with bitterness the conduct of others, can
never obtain pardon for the sins committed by himself. For God will determine
the sentence, not only from the nature of our transgressions, but from
the judgment which thou hast passed upon others. Therefore He gave the
admonition, "Judge not, that ye be not judged."(1) For the sin, of whatever
kind, will not there appear any more such as it was when committed, but
will receive a great and unpardonable addition from the judgment passed
by thee upon thy fellow servants. For as he who is humane, and merciful,
and forgiving, cuts away the greater mass of his sins, so he who is bitter,
and cruel, and implacable, greatly increases the magnitude of his own offences.
Let us then expel from our mouth all slander, knowing that if we do not
abstain from it, though we might feed upon ashes, this austerity would
avail us nothing. "For not that which entereth into, but that which cometh
out of the mouth defileth the man."(2) If any one were to stir up a cesspool,
when you were passing, say, would you not reproach and rate the man who
did it? This then also do with respect to the slanderer. For the stirred
cesspool does not so grossly offend the sense of those who smell that ill
savour, as the stirring up other men's sins, and the exposure of an impure
life, offends and disturbs the soul of those who hear of it. Therefore
let us abstain from evil speaking, from foul language, from blasphemy;
and let us not speak ill of our neighbour, nor of God!
17. For many of our evil speakers have run into
such madness, as to lift up their own tongue from their fellow servants
against their Master. But how great an evil this is, you may learn from
the affairs in which we are now involved. A man is insulted, and, lo! we
are all fearing and trembling, both those who were guilty of the insult,
and those who are conscious of nothing of the kind! But God is insulted
every day! Why do I say every day?--every hour rather, by the rich, by
the poor, by those who are at ease, by the afflicted, by those who calumniate,
and those who are calumniated, and yet no one ever hears a word of this!
Therefore He has permitted our fellow servant(3) to be insulted, in order
that from the danger which has happened through this insult, thou mayest
learn the benignity of the Lord! And notwithstanding that this is our first
and only offence, we do not on that account expect to gain an excuse, or
pardon. But we provoke God every day, and we show no signs of returning
to Him, and yet He endures it with all long-suffering! Seest thou then
how great the benignity of the Lord is? Yet, in this present outrage,
those who had done amiss were taken and thrust into prison, and paid the
penalty; nevertheless we are still in fear, for he who has been insulted
has not as yet heard(4) what has taken place, nor pronounced sentence,
and we are all trembling. But God every day hears of the insults offered
Him, and no one heeds it, although God is thus merciful and loving toward
man. With Him it suffices only to acknowledge the sin, and so to cancel
the accusation. But with man it is altogether the reverse. When those who
have sinned confess, then they are punished the more; which indeed has
happened in the present instance. And some have perished by the sword,
some by fire; some given to wild beasts, and not men only, but children.
And neither this immaturity of age, nor the tumult of the people, nor the
circumstance that they were infuriated by demons when they perpetrated
these deeds;(5) nor that the exaction was thought to be intolerable;(6)
nor poverty, nor having offended in company with all; nor promising that
they would never hereafter dare to repeat such deeds; nor anything else,
could at all rescue them; but they were led away to the pit,(7) without
reprieve; armed soldiers conducting and guarding them on either side, lest
any one should carry off the criminals; whilst mothers also followed afar
off, seeing their children beheaded, but not daring to bewail their calamity;
for terror conquered grief, and fear overcame nature! And just as when
men beholding from the land those who are shipwrecked, are deeply distressed,
but are not able to approach and to rescue the drowning, so too here, the
mothers restrained through fear of the soldiers, as it were by so many
waves, not only dared not go near to their children, and res-
362
cue them from condemnation, but were afraid even to shed tears?
18. Assuredly ye gather from thence the mercy of
God, how unspeakable, how boundless, how transcending all description!
Here indeed the person who has been insulted is of the same nature;(1)
and only once in all his lifetime has experienced this; and then it was
not done to his face; nor while he was present to see or hear it; and nevertheless,
none of those who perpetrated these deeds obtained pardon. But with regard
to God nothing of the kind can be said; for the interval between man and
God, is so great, as no language can at all express; and throughout every
day He is insulted, although present, and seeing and hearing it: and yet
He sends not forth the lightning, nor commands the sea to overflow the
land, and submerge all men; nor does He bid the earth to cleave asunder
and swallow up all the contumelious; but He forbears, and suffers long,
and still offers to pardon those who have insulted Him, if they only repent
and promise to do these things no more! Truly now is the season to proclaim
"Who can utter the mighty acts of the Lord? who can show forth all His
praise?"(2) How many men have not only cast down, but also trodden under
foot the images of God! For when thou throttlest a debtor, when thou strippest
him, when thou draggest him away(3) thou tramplest under foot God's image.
Hear for a certainty Paul saying, that "a man ought not to cover his head,
forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God."(4) And again, hear God
Himself saying, "Let us make man in Our Image, after Our likeness."(5)
But if thou sayest that man is not of the same substance as God,--what
matters that? For neither was the brazen statue of the same substance as
the Emperor; yet nevertheless, they who defied it paid the penalty. Thus
also with regard to mankind, if men are not of the same substance as God,
(as indeed they are not), still they have been called His image; and it
were fitting they should receive honour on account of the appellation.
But thou for the sake of a little gold dose trample them under foot, dose
throttle them, and drag them away; and hast not to this day in any
wise paid the penalty!
19. May there be then speedily some favourable and
propitious change! This certainly I foretell and testify, that although
this cloud should pass away, and we yet remain in the same condition of
listlessness, we shall again have to suffer much heavier evils than those
we are now dreading; for I do not so much fear the wrath of the Emperor,
as your own listlessness. Surely it is not sufficient by way of apology
that we supplicate(6) two or three days, but it is necessary that we should
make a change in our whole life,(7) and that whilst abstaining from wickedness
we should persevere continually in virtue. For as those who are sickly,
unless they keep up a constant regimen, would find no advantage by their
observing a two or three days' discipline; so those who are in sin, if
they do not exercise sobriety at all times, will find no benefit in two
or three days' amendment. For as it is said, that he who is washed, and
is again afterwards polluted with the mire, hath gained nothing; so he
who has repented for three days, and has again returned to his former state,
has accomplished nothing. Let us not therefore, now act as we have always.
done hitherto. For many times, when we have been surprised by earthquakes,
as well as famine and drought, after becoming more sober and gentle for
three or four days, we did but return again to the former course. For this
cause our present troubles have happened. But if we have not done so before;
yet, now at least let us all persevere in the same piety; let us preserve
the same meekness, that we may not again need another stroke. Was not God
able to have prevented what has taken place? He did, however, permit it,
that He might make those who despised Him more sober-minded, through dread
of a fellow-servant!
20. But let not any one say that many of the
guilty escaped, and that many of the innocent incurred punishment. For
I hear of numerous persons who frequently say this; not only in the case
of the present sedition, but also in many other circumstances of this.
nature. What then should I reply to those who make such observations? Why,
that if he who was captured was innocent of the present sedition, he had
wrought some other transgression before this still more grievous, for which,
not having afterwards repented, he has paid the penalty at the present
time. For thus is the custom of God to deal with us. When we sin, He does
not straightway visit the transgression, but lets it pass, giving us space(8)
for repentance, in order that we may be amended and converted. But if,
because we have not paid the penalty, we suppose that the offence too is
blotted out, and make light of it; then somewhere, where
363
we think not of it, we are sure afterwards to be punished. And this
takes place in order that, when we sin and are not punished, we may not
be free from fear, unless we amend, knowing that we shall certainly fall
into punishment where we do not expect it. So that if thou sinnest, beloved,
and art not punished, do not grow presumptuous, but for this very cause
be the more alarmed, knowing that it is an easy matter with God to recompense
again when he pleases. For this reason then he hath not punished thee,
that thou mightest receive space for repentance. Let us not therefore say,
that such a person whilst innocent incurred punishment; and another whilst
guilty escaped, for he who incurred it, being guiltless, as I observed,
paid the punishment of other transgressions; and he who now escapes it,
if he repents not, will be captured in another snare. If our minds are
thus disposed, we shall never forget our own sins, but, always fearful
and trembling lest we should have to pay the penalty, we shall readily
recollect them. For nothing is so apt to bring sin to remembrance as punishment
and chastisement. And this is shown by Joseph's brethren. For when they
had sold the just man, and thirteen years had passed away, suspecting they
had fallen into punishment, and fearing for their lives, they remembered
their sin, and said one to another, "We are verily guilty concerning our
brother Joseph."(1) Seest thou, how fear brought their guilt to recollection?
And yet when they were sinning they perceived it not, but when they were
fearful of being punished, then they remembered it? Knowing, therefore,
all these things, let us make a change and amendment of our lives; and
let us think of religion and virtue, before we think of deliverance from
the impending distress.
21. And in the meanwhile I desire to fix three precepts
in your mind, to the end that you may accomplish me these during:
the fast,--viz. to speak ill of no one; to hold no one for an enemy; and
to expel from the mouth altogether the evil custom of oaths. Anti as when
we hear that some money tax is imposed, each one going within, and calling
his wife and children and servants, considers and consults with them how
he may pay this tribute, so also let us do with respect to these spiritual
precepts. Let every one when he has returned home call together his wife
and children, and let him say, that a spiritual tribute was imposed this
day: a tribute by which there will be some deliverance and removal of these
evils; a tribute which does not make those who pay it poor, but richer;
that is to say, to have no enemy, to speak evil of no man, and to swear
not at all. Let us consider; let us think; let us resolve how we may fulfill
these precepts. Let us exert every endeavour. Let us admonish each other.
Let us correct each other, that we may not go to the other world as debtors,
and then, needing to borrow of others, suffer the fate of the foolish virgins,
and fall from immortal salvation. If we thus set our lives in order, I
warrant you and promise, that from this there will be deliverance from
the present calamity, and a removal of these dreadful ills; and what is
greater than all, there will be the enjoyment of the good things to come.
For it were fitting that I should commit to you the whole body of virtue;
but I think it the best method of correction, to take the laws by parts,
and reduce them to practice, and then to proceed to others. For as in a
given field, the husbandman, digging it all up piecemeal, gradually comes
to the end of his task; so we too if we make this rule for ourselves, in
any wise to reduce to a correct practice these three precepts during the
present Lent, and to commit them to the safe custody of good habit, we
shall proceed with greater ease to the rest; and by this means arriving
at the summit of spiritual wisdom, we shall both reap the fruit of a favourable
hope in the present life; and in the life to come we shall stand before
Christ with great confidence, and enjoy those unspeakable blessings; which,
God grant, we may all be found worthy of, through the grace and loving
kindness of Jesus Christ our Lord, with Whom be glory to the Father and
the Holy Spirit forever and eve r. Amen.
364
HOMILY IV.
An exhortation to the people respecting fortitude and patience, from
the examples of Job and the Three Children in Babylon. The Homily concludes
with an address on the subject of abstaining from oaths.
1. BLESSED be God! who hath comforted your sorrowing
souls, and stayed your agitated spirits! For that ye have received no small
consolation is evident by the desire and readiness to listen which ye are
now showing. For it is impossible that a soul in anguish, and oppressed
with the cloud of despondency, should have power to hear with readiness
anything that is spoken. But I see you are attending to us with much good
will, and with an intense earnestness; and that you have shaken off gloomy
thoughts, and put aside the sense of present distress, in your affectionate
desire of listening. For this cause, I thank God heartily together with
you, that the calamity has not overmatched your philosophy; nor fear relaxed
your vigour; nor tribulation quenched your alacrity; nor danger dried up
your zeal: nor the fear of men overcome the desire for God; nor the difficulty
of the times overthrown your earnestness; nay, so far from overthrowing,
it has strengthened it; so far from slackening, it has given it more intensity;
so far from quenching, has kindled it the more. The forum is
indeed empty, but the church is filled; the former supplies material
for melancholy, the latter is an occasion of joy and spiritual gladness!
When therefore, beloved, you betake yourself to the forum, and the sight
of the solitude calls forth a groan, fly back to thy Mother, and straightway
she will console thee with the multitude of her offspring and will show
thee the chorus of the Brethren complete, and will drive away all
thy despondency! For in the city we are as earnestly longing to see human
beings, as those who inhabit the deserts; but when we take refuge in the
church, we are straitened for room by the multitude. And as when
the sea is in uproar, and rendered furious by the violent tempest,
fear compels all to fly for refuge from without into the harbour;
so also now, the waves of the forum, and the tempest of the city, drives
together every one from all sides into the church, and by the
bond of love knits the members close to one another.
2. Let us then give thanks to God even for these
things, that we have reaped so much fruit from the tribulation; that we
have received so great an advantage from the trial. If there were no trial,
there would be no crown; if there were no wrestlings, there would
be no prize; if there were no lists(1) marked out, there would be no honours;
if there were no tribulation, there would be no rest; if there were no
winter, there would be no summer. And this may be observed, not only amongst
men, but even with the very seeds; for if, in that case, we expect the
ear of corn to spring and flourish, there must be much rain, much gathering
of the clouds, and much frost; and the time of sowing is also a rainy season.
Since therefore the winter, a winter not of the elements, but of souls,
has now set in, let us too sow in this winter that we may reap in the summer;
let us sow tears, that we may reap gladness. This is not my word, it is
a prophetic promise, "They who sow in tears, shall reap in joy."(2) The
rain which cometh down, doth not so make the seeds to sprout and grow,
as the shower of failing tears maketh the seed of godliness to spring up
and flourish. This it is that cleanseth the soul; watereth the mind, and
causeth the growing, germ of doctrine to push rapidly forwards. For this
reason also, it is needful to plough up a deep furrow. This the Prophet
signified when he spoke thus, "Break up your fallow ground, and sow not
among thorns."(3) Therefore, as when he who has set the plough on the field,
turns up the earth from below, preparing beforehand a safe lodgment for
the seeds, in order that they may not lie dispersed over the surface, but
may be hidden in the very womb of the earth, and deposit their roots in
safety: so also it is our business to act; and making use of the plough
of tribulation to break up the depth of the heart. For another Prophet
admonishes of this, when he says, "Rend your hearts and not your garments."(4)
Let us then rend our hearts, that if any evil plant, any treacherous thought
be present in
365
us, we may tear it up by the roots, and provide a pure soil for the
seeds of godliness. For if we do not now break up the fallow ground; if
we do not now sow; if we do not now water it with tears, whilst it is a
time of tribulation and fasting, when shall we ever be brought to compunction?
Will it be when we are at ease, and in luxury? But this is impossible.
For ease and luxury generally lead to indolence, just as tribulation leads
back again to diligence; and restores to itself the mind that had wandered
abroad, and been dreaming after a multitude of objects.
3. Let us not then grieve on account of this despondency,
but even give thanks to God, for great is the gain that comes of tribulation.
The husbandman, when he has sown the seed he had gathered with so much
labour, prays that a shower may come; and the ignorant man, looking on,
will be surprised at all that takes place; and perhaps say to himself,
"what can this man be doing? He is scattering what he has collected; and
not only scattering, but he is also mixing it up in the earth with much
industry, so that it will be no easy matter for him to collect these together
again; and besides mixing them with the earth, he is moreover desiring
a heavy rain, so that all he has cast therein will rot, and become mire."
Such a person is also terrified when he observes the thunders bursting
through the clouds, and the lightnings striking downwards. But not so the
farmer. He is glad and rejoices whilst beholding the heavy rain. For he
does not regard what is present, but awaits the future. He does not attend
to the thunderings, but is reckoning the number of his sheaves. He thinks
not of the decaying seed, but of the flourishing ears of corn; not of the
tedious ram, but of the delightful dust of the threshing floor. Thus indeed,
also, should we regard, not our present tribulation, nor the pain of it,
but the benefit that may arise from it--the fruit that it will bring forth.
Let us wait for the sheaves of the threshing floor; for if we be sober,
we shall be able to collect much fruit from the present time, and to fill
the granaries of our minds. If we be sober, we shall not only be far from
taking any harm from this trouble, but we shall also reap innumerable benefits.
But should we be slothful, even tranquillity will destroy us! Either of
these things is injurious to him who takes no heed; but they both profit
him who lives with strictness. And even as gold if it be covered with water,
still shows its own proper beauty, and although it should fall into the
furnace, would again come forth brighter than before; but on the other
hand, should clay or grass be mixed with water, the one dissolves and the
other corrupts; and should they fall into the fire, the one is parched
and the other is burnt up; so also in truth it is with the just man
and the sinner! For should the former enjoy repose, he remains illustrious,
even as gold is when immersed in water; and though he falls into trial,
he becomes the more illustrious, like gold when subjected to the test of
fire; but the sinner, if he obtains rest, is enervated and corrupted like
the grass and the clay, when they come in contact with water; and should
he undergo trial, he is burnt up and destroyed, in the same way as the
grass and the clay are by the action of fire!
4. Let us not then be out of heart for the present
evils; for if thou hast any sins(1) remaining, they will disappear, and
easily be burnt up by the tribulation; but if thou possessest virtue, thou
wilt become thereby more illustrious and distinguished; for if thou art
continually vigilant and sober, thou wilt be superior to all injury. For
it is not the nature of the trials, but the listlessness of those who are
tried, that is apt to cause their overthrow. So that if thou desirest to
rejoice, and to enjoy ease and pleasure, seek neither for pleasure nor
ease, but seek for a soul full of patience, and one that is able to manifest
fortitude; since if thou hast not this, not only will trial put thee to
shame, but repose will destroy and overthrow thee yet more signally. For
to prove that it is not the attack of evils, but the listlessness of the
mind which subverts our salvation, hear what Christ saith: "Whosoever heareth
these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man,
which built his house upon a rock; and the rain descended, and the floods
came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not, for
it was founded upon a rock." And again: "Every one who heareth these sayings
of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which
built his house upon the sand; and the rain descended, and the floods came,
and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell, and great was
the fall of it."(2) Do you perceive that it was not the attack of these
trials that produced the overthrow, but the folly of the builders? For
there was rain there, and there was rain here; there were floods there,
366
and there were floods here; here the beating of winds, and there again
the same. The one man built a house, and the other built a house. The building
was the same; the trials were the same; but the end was not the same; because
there was not the same foundation. For the folly of the builder, not the
nature of the trials, caused the fall of the building; otherwise the house
that was founded upon the rock should have fallen, whereas nothing of that
kind befell it. But do not suppose that these things were spoken merely
of a house; for the discourse relates to a soul, giving proof by its works
that it hears the divine word, or rejects it. Thus Job builded up his soul.
The rain descended;--for the fire fell from heaven and devoured all his
flocks; the floods came;--the frequent,--the constant,--the successive
messengers of his calamities, telling him of the destruction of his herds--of
his camels--of his children. The winds blew,--the bitter words of his wife:--"Curse
God," she said, "and die."(1) Yet the house fell not: the soul was not
supplanted: the just man did not blaspheme; but even gave thanks thus,
saying, "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. As it pleased the
Lord, so is it come to pass."(2) Seest thou that not the nature of the
trials, but the negligence of the indolent, is wont to cause the overthrow?
since tribulation makes the strong man stronger. Who saith this? It is
the man who lived in tribulation, the blessed Paul; he speaks thus: "Tribulation
worketh patience, and patience probation, and probation hope."(3) And even
as the violence of the wind, when it rushes upon strong trees, and sways
them in all directions, does not root them up, but renders them still firmer
and stronger by these attacks; so the soul that is holy, and lives in a
religious state, is not supplanted by the inroads of trial and tribulation,
but stimulated thereby to more patience; even as the blessed Job, whom
they made more illustrious and honourable.
5. At the present time then, a man is angry with
us, a man of like passions, and of like soul, and we are afraid: but in
the case of Job it was an evil and malignant demon who was angry; nay,
he was not simply angry, but set in motion all sorts of machinations, and
brought forward every stratagem; and yet even with all he could not conquer
the fortitude of the just man. But here is a man, who is at one time angry,
at another time is reconciled; and we are nevertheless dead with fear.
On that occasion it was a devil that waged war, who is never reconciled
to human nature, but has engaged in a war without treaty, and a battle
without truce against our race; yet nevertheless, the just man laughed
his darts to scorn. What apology then, or what pardon can be ours, if we
cannot sustain a human trial; we who are taught such spiritual wisdom under
grace; when this man before grace, and before the Old Testament, endured
this most grievous war so nobly! These things, beloved, we should therefore
always discourse of with one another; and by words of this kind encourage
ourselves. For ye are witnesses, and your conscience is a witness how much
gain we have already received from this trial! The dissolute man hath now
become sober; the bold man meek; the slothful man active. They who
never at any time saw a church, but constantly spent their time at the
theatre. now remain in the church the whole day long. Tell me then, dost
thou grieve on this account, that God hath made thee earnest through fear;
that He hath led thee by tribulation to a sense of thine own safety? But
is thy conscience pained? Yea, is thy mind pierced every day as with a
dart, expecting death, and the greatest wrath? Nevertheless, from thence
too we shall gain a great advance toward virtue, if our piety is made more
earnest by means of the distress. For God is able to free you from all
these evils this day. But not until He sees that you are purified; not
until He sees that a conversion has taken place, and a repentance firm
and unshaken, will He entirely remove the tribulation. The goldsmith, until
he perceives the gold well refined, will not draw it out from the furnace;
and even so God will not take away this cloud before He hath thoroughly
amended us. For He Himself who hath permitted this trial, knows the time
for removing it. So it is also with one who plays the harp; he neither
overstrains the string, lest he break it, nor relaxes it too much, lest
he mar the consonance of its harmony. Thus does God act. He neither places
our souls in a state of constant repose, nor of lengthened tribulation;
making use of both these at His discretion; for he neither suffers us to
enjoy continual repose, lest we should grow listless, nor on the other
hand does he permit us to be in constant tribulation, lest we sink under
it, and become desperate.
6. Let us then leave to Him the time for the removal
of our evils; let us only pray; let us live in piety: for this is our work,
to turn to virtue; but to set us free from these evils
is God's work! For indeed He is more desirous to quench this fire
than thou who art
367
tried by it: but He is waiting for thy salvation. As tribulation then
came of rest, so also after tribulation, rest must be expected. For neither
is it always winter, nor always summer; neither are there always waves,
nor always a calm; neither always night, nor always day. Thus tribulation
is not perpetual, but there will be also repose; only in our tribulation,
let us give thanks to God always. For the three youths were cast into the
furnace, and did not even for this forget their piety; neither did the
flames affright them, but more earnestly than men sitting in a chamber,
and suffering nothing to alarm them, did they, whilst encircled by the
fire, send up to heaven those sacred prayers(1)--therefore the fire became
a wall unto them, and the flame a robe; and the furnace was a fountain;
and whereas it received them bound, it restored them free. It received
bodies that were mortal, but abstained from them as if they had been immortal!
It knew their nature, yet it reverenced their piety! The tyrant bound their
feet, and their feet bound the operation of the fire! O marvellous thing!
The flame loosed those who were bound, and was itself afterwards bound
by those who had been in bonds; for the piety of the youths changed the
nature of things; or rather it did not change the nature, but, what was
far more wonderful, it stayed the operation of them, even whilst their
nature remained. For it did not quench the fire, but though burning, made
it powerless. And it was truly marvellous and unaccountable, that
this not only happened with respect to the bodies of these saints, but
also with respect to their garments, and their shoes. And as it was in
the case of the Apostles, the garments of Paul expelled diseases and demons,(2)
and the shadow(3) of Peter(4) put death to flight; so indeed also in this
case the shoes of these youths extinguished the power of the fire.
7. I know not how I should speak, for the wonder
surpasses all description! The force of the fire was both quenched and
not quenched: for whilst it came in contact with the bodies of these saints,
it was quenched; but when it was needful to burst their bonds, it was not
quenched; wherefore it broke their bonds, but touched not their ancles.(5)
Do you see how very near it was? Yet the fire was not deceived, and dared
not penetrate within the bonds. The tyrant bound, and the flame set loose;
that thou mightest learn at once the fierceness of the barbarian, and the
submissiveness of the element. For what reason did he bind, when he was
about to cast into the fire? In order that the miracle might be the greater;
that the sign might be the more unaccountable; that thou mayest not suppose
that the things seen were an optical delusion. For if that fire had been
no fire, it would not have consumed the bands; and what is much more, it
would not have seized upon the soldiers who were placed without the furnace;
but as the case was, it showed its power upon those without; but towards
those within, its submissiveness. But observe, I pray, in everything, how
the devil by the very same means with which he fights with the servants
of God, pulls down his own power; not intentionally, but because the wisdom
and abundant contrivance of God turns all his weapons and devices upon
his own head; which assuredly happened on that occasion. For the devil
at that time inspiring the tyrant, neither suffered the heads of the saints
to be cut off with the sword, nor that they should be delivered to wild
beasts, nor punished in any such manner; but that they should be thrown
into the fire; to the end that not even any relics of these saints should
remain, their bodies being altogether consumed, and their ashes being mingled
with the ashes of the fagots. But God accordingly employed this very circumstance
for the taking away of impiety(6) And how? I will tell you. Fire is accounted
by the Persians to be a god; and the barbarians, who inhabit that country
even now honour it with much worship. God, therefore, being desirous to
pull up by the roots the material of impiety, permitted the punishment
to take this form, in order that He might give the victory to His servants
before the eyes of all these fire-worshippers; persuading them by the plain
fact, that the gods of the Gentiles are in dread not of God only, but even
of the servants of God.
8. Consider, moreover, how the crown of this victory
was woven by the adversaries, and the enemies themselves were made witnesses
of this trophy. For "Nebuchadnezzar," it says, "sent to gather together
the princes, the governors, and the captains, the judges, the sheriffs,
and all the rulers of the provinces, to come to the dedication of the image,
and they were all gathered together."(7)
368
The enemy prepares the theatre, and he himself collects together the
spectators, and prepares the lists; a theatre too, not of chance persons,
or of some private individuals, but of all those who were honourable and
in authority, to the end that their testimony may be worthy of credit
with the multitude. They had come summoned for one thing; but they all
departed having beheld another thing. They came in order to worship the
image; and they departed, having derided the image, and struck with wonder
at the power of God, through the signs which had taken place with respect
to these young men. And observe, where the field for this display was spread
out. No city, nor select enclosure furnished room for this theatre of the
whole world, but smooth and naked plains. For in the plain of Dura, outside
the city, he set up the image, and the herald came and cried, "To you it
is commanded, O people, nations, and languages, that at what time ye hear
the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and
all kinds of music, ye fall down and worship the golden image;" (for a
fall indeed it was to worship the idol) "and whoso falleth not down, and
worshippeth, shall the same hour be cast into the midst of a burning fiery
furnace."(1) Seest thou how difficult these struggles are made; how irresistible
the snare; and how deep the gulph, and a precipice on either hand? But
be not afraid. In whatever degree the enemy increases his machinations,
so much the more does he display the courage of the young men. For this
reason is there this symphony of so many musicians; for this reason the
burning furnace; in order that both pleasure, and fear, may besiege the
souls of those present. Is there any one of harsh and unyielding character
among them? "Let the melody of every kind of music," saith he, "enchant
and soften him." But is he superior to this artifice, "let the sight of
the flame affright and astound him." Thus was fear as well as pleasure
present; the one entering to assault the soul by the ears, the other by
the eyes. But the noble character of these youths was not by any such means
to be conquered; but even as, when they fell into the fire, they mastered
the flames, even so they derided all desire and all fear. For it was for
them the devil had prepared all these things beforehand. For he had no
doubts of his own subjects, but was exceedingly confident that no one would
resist the royal mandate. But when all fell down, and were subdued, then
the youths alone are led into the midst; in order that from this too the
conquest may become the more illustrious, they alone conquering and being
proclaimed victors among so vast a multitude. For this would not have been
so surprising if they had acted courageously at the first, when as yet
no one had been overthrown. But the greatest, and most astonishing fact
was, that the multitude of those who fell down, neither affrighted, nor
enfeebled them. They did not say to themselves any such things as many
are ofttimes wont to say; "If we were the first, and the only persons to
worship the image, this would have been a sin: but if we do this with so
many myriads, who will not make allowance? who will not think us worthy
of defence?" nothing of that sort did they say or think, when they beheld
the prostrate forms(2) of so many tyrants.(3) Consider thou also with me
the wickedness of those who were their accusers, and how maliciously and
bitterly they brought the accusation! "There are," say they, "certain Jews
whom thou hast set up over the works of the province of Babylon."(4) They
did not merely make mention of the nation, but they also bring to mind
their honourable condition, that they may inflame the wrath of the king;
almost as if they had said, "These slaves, these captives, who are without
a city, thou hast made rulers over us. But they shew contempt for such
honour, and treat insolently him who has given them this honour! Therefore
they say this; "The Jews whom thou hast set over the works of the province
of Babylon, obey not thy decree, nor serve thy gods."(4) The accusation
becomes their greatest praise; and the crimes imputed, their encomium;
a testimony indeed that is indubitable, since their enemies bring it forward.
What then does the king? He commands that they should be brought into the
midst, so that he may affright them in every way. But nothing dismayed
them, neither the wrath of the king, nor their being left alone in the
midst of so many, nor the sight of the fire, nor the sound of the trumpet,
nor the whole multitude looking fire at them; for deriding all these things,
as if they were about to be cast into a cool fountain of water, they entered
the furnace uttering that blessed sentence, "We will not serve thy gods,
nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up."(5)
9. I have not referred to this history without reason,
but that ye may learn that whether it be the wrath of a king, or the
369
violence of soldiers, or the envy of enemies, or captivity, or destitution,
or fire, or furnace, or ten thousand terrors, nothing will avail to put
to shame or terrify a righteous man. For if where the king was godless
the youths were not dismayed at the tyrant's wrath, how much more ought
we to be confident, having an emperor who is humane and merciful, and to
express thankfulness to God for this tribulation, knowing from what has
now been said, that tribulations render men more illustrious both in the
presence of God and of man, if they know how to bear them with fortitude!
For indeed if these had not been made slaves, we should not have known
their freedom! If they had not been captives, we should not have learned
their nobility of soul! If they had not been exiles from their country
below, we should not have known the excellency of their citizenship above!
If the earthly king had not been angry with them, we should not have known
the favour with which they were regarded by the heavenly King!
10. Thou too then, if thou hast Him for thy Friend,
be not despairing, although thou fallest into the furnace: and in like
manner if He be angry, think not thou art safe though thou be in Paradise.
For Adam indeed was in Paradise, yet, when he had provoked God, Paradise
profited him nothing. These youths were in the furnace; yet, since they
were approved, the furnace injured them not at all. Adam was in Paradise,
but when he was supine, he was supplanted! Job sat down on the dunghill,
yet, since he was vigilant he prevailed! Yet how much better was Paradise
than a dunghill! still the excellency of the place benefitted in no degree
the inhabitant; forasmuch as he had betrayed himself; as likewise indeed
the vileness of the place did to one no injury, who was fortified on every
side with virtue. As to ourselves then, let us fortify our souls; for if
the loss of wealth should threaten us, or even death, and yet no one can
rob us of our religion, we are the happiest of men, Christ commended this
when he said, "Be ye wise as serpents."(1) For just as he exposes the whole
body in order that he may save the head,(2) so also do thou. Although it
should be necessary to expose wealth, or the body, or the present life,
or all things, for the purpose of preserving thy religion; be not cast
down! For if thou depart hence in possession of that, God will restore
to thee all things with more abundant splendour, and will raise again thy
body with greater glory; and instead of riches, there will be the good
things that surpass all power of description. Did not Job sit naked on
a dunghill, sustaining a life more grievous than ten thousand deaths? Yet
since he did not cast away his piety, all his former things came back to
him in greater abundance, soundness and beauty of body; his full band of
children; his possessions; and what was greater than all, the splendid
crown of his patience. For as it happens with trees, should any one pluck
away the fruit and the leaves together; should he even cut off all the
branches letting the root only remain; the tree will rise again entire,
with greater beauty, so indeed is it also with us. If the root of piety
remain, although wealth be taken away, although the body destroyed, all
things again revert to us with greater glory than before. Casting away
therefore all anxiety and superfluous care, let us return to ourselves;
and let us adorn the body and the soul with the ornament of virtue; converting
our bodily members into instruments of righteouness and not instruments
of sin.
11. And first of all, let us discipline our tongue
to be the minister of the grace of the Spirit, expelling from the mouth
all virulence and malignity, and the practice of using disgraceful words.
For it is in our power to make each one of our members an instrument of
wickedness, or of righteousness. Hear then how men make the tongue an instrument,
some of sin, others of righteousness! "Their tongue is a sharp sword."(3)
But another speaks thus of his own tongue: "My tongue(4) is the pen of
a ready writer."(5) The former wrought destruction; the latter wrote the
divine law. Thus was one a sword, the other a pen, not according to its
own nature, but according to the choice of those who employed it. For the
nature of this tongue and of that was the same, but the operation was not
the same. And again, as to the mouth likewise, we may see this same thing.
For these had a mouth full of filth and of wickedness, therefore against
such it is said by way of accusation, "Their mouth is full of cursing and
bitterness;"(6) not such was his, but "My mouth shall speak of wisdom,
and the meditation of my heart shall be of understanding."(7) Again, there
were others who had their hands full of iniquity, and accusing these he
said, "Iniquities are in their hands,
370
and their right hand is filled with gifts."(1) But he himself had hands
practised in nothing but in being stretched out towards heaven. Therefore
he said of these too, "The lifting up of my hands (let it be) an evening
sacrifice."(2) The same may also be perceived with reference to the heart;
for their heart indeed was foolish, but this man's was true; hence he speaks
of them thus, "Their heart is vain;" but of his own, "My heart is inditing
of a good matter."(3) And as to the ear, one may see that the case is the
same; for some have a sense of bearing like that of beasts, which is not
to be charmed or moved to pity; and reproaching such the Psalmist says,
"They are like the deaf adder, that stoppeth her ears."(4) But his ear
was the receptacle of the divine words, and this he again makes manifest,
when he says, "I will incline mine ear to a parable, I will open my dark
speech upon the harp."(5)
12. Knowing these things then, let us fortify ourselves
with virtue on all sides, and thus we shall avert the wrath of God, and
let us make the members of the body instruments of righteousness; and let
us discipline eyes, and mouth, and hands, and feet, and heart, and tongue,
and the(6) whole body, to be employed only in the service of virtue. And
let us remember those three precepts, of which I discoursed(7) to your
Charity, exhorting you to consider no one as an enemy, nor to speak evil
of any one of those who have aggrieved you; and to expel from your mouth
the evil custom of oaths. And with respect to the two former precepts,
we will discourse to you on another occasion; but we shall speak to you
during the whole of the present week respecting oaths; thus beginning with
the easier precept. For it is no labour at all to overcome the habit of
swearing, if we would but apply a little endeavour, by reminding each other;
by advising; by observing; and by requiring those who thus forget themselves,
to render an account, and to pay the penalty. For what advantage shall
we gain by abstinence from meats, if we do not also expel the evil habits
of the soul? Lo, we have spent the whole of this day fasting; and in the
evening we shall spread a table, not such as we did on yester-eve, but
one of an altered and more solemn kind.(8) Can any one of us then say that
he has changed his life too this day; that he has altered his ill custom,
as well as his food? Truly, I suppose not! Of what advantage then is our
fasting? Wherefore I exhort(9) and I will not cease to exhort, that undertaking
each precept separately, you should spend two or three days in the attainment
of it; and just as there are some who rival one another in fasting, and
shew a marvellous emulation in it; (some indeed who spend two whole days
without food; and others who, rejecting from their tables not only the
use of wine, and of oil, but of every dish, and taking only bread and water,
persevere in this practice during the whole of Lent); so, indeed, let us
also contend mutually with one another in abolishing the frequency(10)
of oaths. For this is more useful than any fasting; this is more profitable
than any austerity. And this same care which we display in abstaining from
food, let us exhibit with respect to abstinence from oaths; since we shall
be chargeable with the reproach of extreme folly, while we regard not things
that are forbidden, and expend all our care upon things indifferent; for
to eat is not forbidden, but to swear is forbidden; we, however, abstaining
from those things that are permitted, daringly venture upon those things
that are forbidden! On this account I beseech your Charity to make some
change, and to let the beginning of it be visible from this day. For if
we spend the whole of the present fast with such zeal, having in this week
attained the practice of not swearing at all; and in the following having
extinguished wrath; and in that which succeeds it, having pulled up evil-speaking
by the roots; and after that, having amended what yet remains; thus going
forward in our course, we shall come by little and little to the very summit
of virtue; and we shall escape the present danger; and shall make God propitious;
and the multitude will come back again to our city; and we shall teach
the fugitives that we are to place our hopes of safety neither in security
of place, nor in flight and retirement; but in piety of soul, and in virtue
of manners. And thus shall we obtain the good things of this and of the
future life; which, God grant! we my all be found worthy of, by the grace
and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom
be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Ghost, now and for ever
and ever. Amen.
371
HOMILY V.
The exhortation of the last Homily is Continued in this. The people
are exhorted to bear with fortitude the impending wrath of the Emperor.
The cases of Job and the Ninevites are referred to as examples. It is shewn
that men ought not to fear death, but sin. What it is to die miserably
is explained; and the Homily concludes with an earnest dissuasive against
the use of oaths.
1. THE discourse concerning the three young men,
and the Babylonian furnace, did, as it would seem, yesterday give no small
comfort to your Charity; and still more the example in the case of Job,
and that dunghill more to be venerated than any kingly throne. For from
seeing a royal throne no advantage results to the spectators, but only
a temporary pleasure, which has no profit; but from the sight of Job's
dunghill, one may derive every kind of benefit, yea, much divine wisdom
and consolation, in order to patience. Therefore to this day many undertake
a long pilgrimage,(1) even across the sea, hastening from the extremities
of the earth, as far as Arabia, that they may see that dunghill; and having
beheld it, may kiss the land, which contained the wrestling-ground(2) of
such a victor, and received the blood that was more precious than all gold!
For the purple shines not so brilliantly, as did that body when dyed(3)
not in another's blood, but in its own! Even those very wounds were more
precious than all manner of jewels! For the nature of pearls is of no help
to our life; nor do they satisfy any necessary want on the part of those
who have them. But those wounds are a consolation for all sadness; and
that thou mayest learn this to be the truth, suppose any one were to lose
a beloved and only son. Shew him ten thousand pearls, and you will not
console his grief, or lighten his anguish; but recall to his mind the wounds
of Job, and thou wouldest easily be able to minister comfort by speaking
thus: "Why sorrowest thou, O man? Thou hast lost one son; but that blessed
man, after he had been bereaved of the whole family of his children, both
received a plague in his own flesh, and sat down naked upon the dunghill,
streaming with gore from every part, and his flesh gradually wasting away;
even he who was just, and true, so devout a man, who stained from every
evil deed, and had even God for a witness to his virtue." By speaking thus
thou wouldest extinguish all the sufferer's sadness, and remove all his
distress. Thus the wounds of the just man become more useful than pearls!
2. Figure to yourselves then this wrestler; and
imagine that you see that dunghill, and himself sitting in the midst of
it! That golden statue! set with gems! I know not how to express it: for
I am unable to find any material so precious as to compare it with that
body stained with blood! So far above every substance, however costly,
was the nature of that flesh, beyond all comparison more precious, and
those wounds more splendid than the sun's beams; for these illumine the
eyes of the body; but those enlighten the eyes of the mind! those struck
the devil with utter blindness! Therefore it was, that after that blow,
he started back and appeared no more. And do thou, O beloved, learn thence
too what advantage there is in tribulation! For when the just man was rich,
and enjoyed ease, he had the means of accusing him. However falsely, yet
still he had it in his power to say, "Doth Job serve thee for nought?"
But after he had stripped him and made him poor, he dared not even open
his mouth any more. When he was wealthy, he prepared to wrestle with him,
and threatened to overthrow him; but when he had made him poor, and taken
away all he had, and thrown him into the deepest distress, then he started
back. When indeed his body was sound, he lifted up his hands against him,(4)
but when he had battered his flesh, then he fled,--defeated! Seest thou
how to the vigilant, poverty is much better and more beneficial than riches;
and infirmity and sickness, than health; and trial, than tranquillity;
inasmuch as it makes the combatants more illustrious and vigorous?
3. Who hath seen or heard of such an astonishing
contest? The fighters in worldly contests, when they have battered the
heads of their adversaries, are then victorious, and are crowned! But this
adversary, when he
372
had battered the body of the just man, perforating it with ulcers of
every kind, and had reduced him to great weakness, was then conquered,
and drew back. Even when he had pierced his ribs in every direction, he
was no gainer thereby; for he spoiled him not of his hidden treasure, but
he made him more conspicuous to us; and through that piercing he gave to
all the privilege to look into his interior, and to discern completely
the whole of his wealth! When he expected to prevail, then he withdrew
with much ignominy, and never again uttered a syllable! What is the matter,
O devil? For what cause withdrawest thou? Was not everything done that
thou chosest? Hast thou not taken away his flocks, his herds, his droves
of horses and of mules? Hast thou not also destroyed his troop of children?
and battered his flesh to pieces. For what reason with-drawest thou? "Because,"
saith he, "every thing I chose(1) is come to pass, and yet that which I
most desired should come to pass, and for which I did all those things,
is not come to pass; he hath not blasphemed! For it was in order to this,
continues he, that I was doing all those things; and as this is not come
to pass, I am no gainer by having deprived him of his wealth; or by the
destruction of his children; or by the plague inflicted upon his body;
but the reverse of what I purposed hath come to pass; I have made my enemy
more illustrious; I have added lustre to his reputation." Perceivest thou,
O beloved, how great was the reward of tribulation? His body was fair and
sound before, but it became more venerable, when pierced through and through
by these wounds! And thus wool, fair as it is before the dyeing, when it
becomes purple, takes an indescribable beauty, and an additional grace.
But if he had not stripped him, we should not have known the good condition(2)
of the victor; if he had not pierced the body with ulcers, the rays within
would not have shone forth. If he had not made him sit down upon a dunghill,
we should not have known his wealth. For a king sitting on a throne is
not so illustrious, as this man was notable and conspicuous, whilst sitting
upon his dunghill! For after the royal throne, comes death; but after that
dunghill, the kingdom of heaven!
4. Collecting then all these reasons, let us raise
ourselves from the dejection which oppresses us. For I have laid these
histories before you, not that ye may applaud what is spoken, but that
ye may imitate the virtue and the patience of such noble men; that ye may
learn from the very facts, that there is nothing of human ills to be dreaded,
save sin only; neither poverty, nor disease, nor insult, nor malicious
treatment, nor ignominy, nor death, which is accounted the worst of all
evils. To those who love spiritual wisdom, such things are only the names
of calamities; names which have no substantial reality. But the true calamity
consists in offending God, and in doing aught which is displeasing to Him.
For tell me, what is there in death. which is terrible? Is it because it
transports thee more quickly to the peaceful haven, and to that life which
is free from tumult? Although man should not put thee to death, will not
the very law of nature, at length stealing upon thee, separate the body
from the soul; and if this event which we fear does not happen now, it
will happen shortly.
5. I speak thus, not anticipating any dread or melancholy
event:(3) God forbid! But because I am ashamed for those who are afraid
of death. Tell me, whilst expecting such good things as "eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, nor have entered the heart of man,"(4) dost thou demur about
this enjoyment, and art negligent and slothful; and not only slothful,
but fearful and trembling? And is it not shameful that thou art distressed
on account of death, whereas Paul groaned on account of the present life,
and writing to the Romans said, "The creation groaneth together, and ourselves
also which have the first fruits of the Spirit do groan."(5) And he spoke
thus, not as condemning the things present, but longing for the things
to come. "I have tasted," saith he, "of the grace, and I do not willingly
put up with the delay.(6) I have the first fruits of the Spirit, and I
press on towards the whole. I have ascended to the third heaven; I have
seen that glory which is unutterable; I have beheld the shining palaces;
I have learnt what joys I am deprived of, while I linger here, and therefore
do I groan." For suppose any one had conducted thee into princely halls,
and shewn thee the gold everywhere glittering on the walls, and all the
rest of the glorious show; if from thence he had led thee back afterward
to a poor man's hut, and promised that in a short time he would bring thee
back to those palaces, and world there give thee a perpetual mansion; tell
me, wouldest thou not indeed languish with desire, and feel impatient,
even at these few days? Thus think
373
then of heaven, and of earth, and groan with Paul, not because of death,
but because of the present life!
6. But grant me, saith one, to be like Paul, and
I shall never be afraid of death. Why, what is it that forbids thee, O
man, to become like Paul? Was he not a poor man? Was he not a tent maker?
Was he not a man of humble position? For if he had been rich and high born,
the poor, when called upon to imitate his zeal, would have had their poverty
to plead; but now thou canst say nothing of this sort. For this man was
one who exercised a manual art, and supported himself too by his daily
labours. And thou, indeed, from the first hast inherited true religion
from thy fathers; and from thy earliest age hast been nourished in the
study of the sacred writings; but he was "a blasphemer, and a persecutor,
and injurious,"(1) and ravaged the Church! Nevertheless, he so changed
all at once, as to surpass all in the vehemence of his zeal, and he cries
out, saying, "Be ye imitators of me, even as I also am of Christ."(2) He
imitated the Lord; and wilt not thou who hast been educated in piety from
the first, imitate a fellow-servant; one who by conversion was brought
to the faith at a later period of life? Knowest thou not, that they who
are in sins are dead whilst they live; and that they who live(3) in righteousness,
although they be dead, yet they live?(4) And this is not my word. It is
the declaration of Christ speaking to Martha, "He that believeth in me
though he were dead yet shall he live."(5) Is our doctrine, indeed, a fable?
If thou art a Christian, believe in Christ; if thou believest in Christ,
shew me thy faith by thy works.(6) But how mayest thou shew this? By thy
contempt of death: for in this we differ from the unbelievers. They may
well fear death; since they have no hope of a resurrection. But thou, who
art travelling toward better things, and hast the opportunity of meditating
on the hope of the future; what excuse hast thou, if whilst assured of
a resurrection, thou are yet at the same time as fearful of death, as those
who believe not the resurrection?
7. But I have no fear of death, says one, nor of
the act of dying, but of a miserable death, of being beheaded. Did John
then, I ask, die miserably? for he was beheaded. Or did Stephen die miserably?
for he was stoned; and all the martyrs have thus died wretchedly, according
to this objection: since some have ended their lives by fire; and others
by the sword; and some cast into the ocean; others down a precipice; and
others into the jaws of wild beasts, have so come by their death. To die
basely, O man, is not to come to one's end by a violent death, but to die
in sin! Hear, at least, the prophet moralising on this very matter, and
saying,"The death of sinners is evil."(7) He does not say that a violent
death is evil; but what then? "The death of sinners is evil."(8) And justly
so; for after the departure from this life, there is an intolerable punishment;
undying vengeance, the envenomed worm; the fire unquenchable, the outer
darkness, the chains indissoluble; the gnashing of teeth, the tribulation,
and the anguish, and the eternal justice.(9)
8. Since therefore such evils await sinners,
what advantage can it be to them, though they should end their days at
home, and in their bed? Even so, on the other hand, it can do no harm to
the righteous to lay down the present life through sword, or steel, or
fire when they are to depart to the good things that are immortal.Truly
"the death of sinners is evil." Such a death was that of the rich man,
who despised Lazarus. He, when he had terminated his life by a natural
end, at home and on his bed, and with his relatives about him, experienced
after his departure to the other world a fiery torment; nor was he able
to obtain there even a little comfort, out of all the pleasure he had enjoyed
in the present life! But not so was it with Lazarus; for when lying upon
the pavement, while the dogs came and licked his sores, he had suffered
a violent death (for what could be more painful than hunger?), but on his
departing hence he enjoyed eternal blessings, luxuriating in the bosom
of Abraham! In what respect, then, did it injure him that he died a violent
death? or what did it profit the rich man, that he died not with violence?
9. But, says some one, "We have no fear of dying
by violence, but of dying unjustly; and of being punished in a similar
way with the guilty,--we who have had nothing to do with the crimes of
which we are suspected." What sayest thou, tell me? Art thou afraid
374
of dying unjustly, and wouldest thou wish to die justly. But who is
there so wretched and miserable, that when he had the alternative of dying
unjustly, would rather depart by an act of justice? For if it be necessary
to fear death, it is necessary to fear it when it comes upon us justly;
since he indeed who dies unjustly, is by this very means made a partaker
with all the saints. For many of those who were approved and distinguished
by God, have been subjected to an unjust end; and first of all Abel. For
it was not that he had sinned against his brother, or done Cain any harm;
but inasmuch as he had honoured God, therefore was he slaughtered. But
God permitted it. Was it, think you, because He loved him, or because He
hated him? Most clearly, because He loved him, and wished to make his crown
the brighter, by that most unjust murder. Seest thou then, that it becomes
us not to be afraid of dying by violence; nor yet of dying unjustly; but
of dying in a state of sin? Abel died unjustly. Cain lived, groaning and
trembling! Which then, I would ask, was the more blessed of the two; he
who went to rest in righteousness, or he who lived in sin; he who died
unjustly, or he who was justly punished? Would you have me declare unto
your Charity, whence it is that we are afraid of death? The love of the
kingdom hath not penetrated us, nor the desire of things to come inflamed
us: otherwise we should despise all present things, even as the blessed
Paul did. Add to this, on the other hand, that we do not stand in awe of
hell; therefore death is terrible. We are not sensible of the unsufferable
nature of the punishment there; therefore, instead of sin, we fear death;
since if the fear of the one held possession of our souls, the fear of
the other would not be able to enter.
10. And this I will endeavour to make manifest,
not from anything of a remote nature, but from what is at our own doors;
and from the events which have happened among us in these days. For when
the Emperor's letter came, ordering that tribute to be imposed which was
thought to be so intolerable, all were in a tumult; all quarrelled with
it; thought it a sore grievance, resented it; and when they met one another
said, "Our life is not worth living, the city is undone;--no one will be
able to stand under this heavy burden;" and they were distressed as if
placed in the extremest danger. After this, when the rebellion was actually
perpetrated, and certain vile, yea, thoroughly vile persons, trampling
under foot the laws, threw down the statues, and involved all in the utmost
peril; and now that we are in fear for our very lives, through the indignation
of the Emperor, this loss of money no longer stings us. But instead of
such complaints, I hear from all a language of a different kind. "Let the
Emperor take our substance, we will gladly be deprived of our fields and
possessions, if any one will but ensure us safety for the bare body." As
therefore, before the fear of death pressed upon us, the loss of our wealth
tormented us; and after these lawless outrages had been perpetrated, the
fear of death succeeding, expelled the grief for that loss; so if the fear
of hell had held possession of our souls, the fear of death would not have
possessed them. But even as it is with the body, when two kinds of pain
seize upon us, the more powerful usually overshadows the weaker one, so
also would it now happen; if the dread of future punishment remained in
the soul, that would overshadow all human fear. So that if any one endear-ours
always to have the remembrance of hell, he will deride every kind of death;
and this will not only deliver him from the present distress, but will
even rescue him from the flame to come. For he who is always afraid of
hell, will never fall into the fire of hell; being made sober by this continual
fear!
11. Permit me, that I now say to you at a fitting
time, "Brethren, be not children in understanding; howbeit in malice be
ye children."(1) For this is a childish terror of ours, if we fear death,
but are not fearful of sin. Little children too are afraid of masks, but
fear not the fire. On the contrary, if they are carried by accident near
a lighted candle, they stretch out the hand without any concern towards
the candle and the flame; yet a mask which is so utterly contemptible terrifies
them; whereas they have no dread of fire, which is really a thing to be
afraid of. Just so we too have a fear of death, which is a mask that might
well be despised; but have no fear of sin, which is truly dreadful; and,
even as fire, devours the conscience! And this is wont to happen not on
account of the nature of the things, but by reason of our own folly; so
that if we were once to consider what death is, we should at no time be
afraid of it. What then, I pray you, is death? Just what it is to put off
a garment. For the body is about the soul as a garment; and after laying
this aside for a short time by means of death, we shall resume it again
with the more splendour. What is death at most? It is a journey for a season;
a sleep longer than usual! So that if thou fearest
375
death, thou shouldest also fear sleep! If for those who are dying thou
art pained, grieve for those too who are eating and drinking, for as this
is natural, so is that! Let not natural things sadden thee; rather let
things which arise from an evil choice make thee sorrowful. Sorrow not
for the dying man; but sorrow for him who is living in sin!
12. Would you have me mention another reason on
account of which we fear death? We do not live with strictness, nor keep
a clear conscience; for if this were the case nothing would alarm us, neither
death, nor famine, nor the loss of wealth, nor anything else of this kind.
For he who lives virtuously, cannot be injured by any of these things,
or be deprived of his inward pleasure. For being supported by favourable
hopes, nothing will be able to throw him into dejection. What is there
that any one can possibly effect, by which he can cause the noble-minded
man to become sorrowful? Take away his riches? He has yet wealth that is
in the heavens! Cast him out of his country? He will take his journey to(1)
that city which is above! Load him with fetters? He has still his conscience
free, and is insensible to the external chain! Put his body to death? Yet
he shall rise again! And as he who fights with a shadow, and beaten the
air, will be unable to hit any one; so he who is at war with the just man,
is but striking at a shadow, and wasting his own strength, without being
able to inflict any injury upon him. Grant me then to be sure of the kingdom
of heaven; and, if thou wishest, slay me this day. I shall be thankful
to thee for the slaughter; forasmuch as thou sendest me quickly to the
possession of those good things! "This, however," says some one, "is what
we especially lament, that hindered as we are by the multitude of our sins,
we shall not attain to that kingdom." Such being the case then, leave off
lamenting death, and lament thy sins, in order that thou mayest be freed
from them! Grief, indeed, hath had its existence, not that we should sorrow
for the loss of wealth, nor for death, nor for anything else of that kind,
but that we may employ it for the taking away of our sins.(2) And I will
make the truth of this evident by an example. Healing medicines(3) have
been made for those diseases only which they are able to remove; not for
those which are in no respect assisted by them. For instance (for I wish
to make the matter still plainer), the medicine which is able to benefit
a malady of the eyes only, and no other disease, one might justly say was
made only for the sake of the eyes; not for the stomach, nor for the hands,
nor any other member. Let us then transfer this argument to the subject
of grief; and we shall find, that in none of those things which happen
to us, is it of any advantage, except to correct sin; whence it is apparent
that it hath had its existence only for the destruction of this. Let us
now take a survey of each of those evils which befall us, and let us apply
despondency as a remedy, and see what sort of advantage(4) results from
it.
13. Some one is mulcted in property: he becomes
sad, but this does not make good his loss. Some one hath lost a son: he
grieves, but he cannot raise the dead, nor benefit the departed. Some one
hath been scourged, beaten, and insulted; he becomes sorrowful. This does
not recall the insult. Some one falls into sickness, and a most grievous
disease; he is dejected. This does not remove his disease, but only makes
it the more grievous. Do you see that in none of these cases does sadness
answer any useful purpose? Suppose that any one hath sinned, and is sad.
He blots out the sin; he gets free from the transgression. How is this
shewn? By the declaration of the Lord; for, speaking of a certain one who
had sinned, He said, "Because of his iniquity I made him sad for a while;
and I saw that he was grieved, and he went on heavily; and I healed his
ways."(5) Therefore also Paul saith, "Godly sorrow worketh repentance unto
salvation not to be repented of."(6) Since then what I have said clearly
shews, that neither the loss of riches, nor insult, nor abuse, nor stripes,
nor sickness, nor death, nor any other thing of that kind can possibly
be relieved by the interference of grief, but sin only can it blot out
and do away, it is evident that this is the only reason why it hath its
existence. Let us therefore no more grieve for the loss of wealth, but
let us grieve only when we commit sin. For great in this case is the gain
that comes of sorrow. Art thou amerced? Be not dejected, for thus thou
wilt not be at all benefited. Hast thou sinned? Then be sorry: for it is
profitable; and consider the skill and wisdom of God. Sin hath brought
forth for us these two things, sorrow and death. For "in the day thou eatest,"
He saith, "thou shall surely die;"
376
and to the woman, "In sorrow thou shall bring forth children."(1) And
by both of these things he took away sin, and provided that the mother
should be destroyed by her offspring. For that death as well as grief takes
away sin, is evident, in the first place, from the case of the martyrs;(2)
and it is plain too from what Paul saith to those who had sinned, speaking
on this wise, "For this cause many are weak and sickly among you, and many
sleep."(3) Inasmuch, he observes, as ye have sinned, ye die, so that ye
are freed from sin by death. Therefore ne goes on to say, "For if we would
judge ourselves, we should not be judged. But when we are judged, we are
chastened of the Lord, that we should not be condemned with the world."(4)
And even as the worm is brought forth from the wood, and devours the wood;
and a moth consumes the wool, from whence it originates; so grief and death
were born of sin, and devour sin.
14. Let us not then fear death, but let us only
fear sin, and grieve on account of this. And these things I speak, not
anticipating any thing fearful, God forbid! but wishing you when alarmed
to be always thus affected, and to fulfil the law of Christ in very deed.
For "he," saith Christ, "that taketh not his cross, and followeth after
Me, is not worthy of Me."(5) This He said, not that we should bear the
wood upon our shoulders, but that we should always have death before our
eyes. Even so as Paul, that is, died daily, and laughed at death, and despised
the present life. For indeed thou art a soldier, and standest continually
at arms; but a soldier who is afraid of death, will never perform a noble
action. Thus then neither will a Christian man, if fearful of dangers,
perform anything great or admirable; nay, besides this, he will be apt
to be easily vanquished. But not so is it with the man who is bold and
lofty minded. He remains impregnable and unconquerable. As then the Three
Children, when they feared not the fire, escaped from the fire, so also
we, if we fear not death, shall entirely escape from death. They feared
not the fire (for it is no crime to be burnt), but they feared sin, for
it is a crime to commit impiety. Let us also imitate these and all such,
and let us not be afraid of dangers, and then we shall pass safely through
them.
15. As for me, "I am not a prophet nor the son of
a prophet,"(6) yet I understand clearly thus much of the future, and I
proclaim, both loudly and distinctly, that if we become changed, and bestow
some care upon our souls, and desist from iniquity, nothing will be unpleasant
or painful. And this I plainly know from the love of God toward man, as
well as from those things which He hath done for men, and cities, and nations,
and whole populations. For He threatened the city of Nineveh, and said,
"There are yet three days,(7) and Nineveh shall be overthrown."(8) What
then, I ask, Was Nineveh overthrown? Was the city destroyed? Nay, quite
the contrary; it both arose, and became still more distinguished; and long
as is the time which has elapsed, it has not effaced its glory, but we
all still celebrate and admire it even to this day.(9) For from that time
it hath been a sort of excellent haven for all who have sinned, not suffering
them to sink into desperation, but calling all to repentance; and by what
it did, and by what it obtained of God's favour, persuading men never to
despair of their salvation, but exhibiting the best life they can,(10)
and setting before them a(11) good hope, to be confident of the issue as
destined in any wise to be favourable. For who would not be stirred up
on hearing of such an example, even if he were the laziest of mortals?
16. For God even preferred that His own prediction
should fall to the ground, so that the city should not fall. Or rather,
the prophecy did not even so fall to the ground. For if indeed while the
men continued in the same wickedness, the sentence had not taken effect,
some one perhaps might have brought a charge against what was uttered.
But if when they had changed, and desisted from their iniquity, God also
desisted from His
377
wrath, who shall be able any longer to find fault with the prophecy,
or to convict the things spoken of falsehood. The same law indeed which
God had laid down from the beginning, publishing it to all men by the prophet,
was on that occasion strictly observed. What then is this law? "I shall
speak a sentence," saith He, "concerning a nation or a kingdom, to pluck
up, and to pull down, and to destroy it; and it shall be, that if
they repent of their evil, I will also repent · of the wrath which
I said I would do unto them."(1) Guarding then this law, he saved those
who were converted and released from His wrath those who desisted from
their wickedness. He knew the virtue of the barbarians; therefore He hastened
the prophet thither. Thus was the city agitated at the time, when it heard
the prophet's voice, but instead of being injured it was benefited by fear.
For that fear was the cause of its safety. The threatening effected the
deliverance from the peril. The sentence of overthrow put a stop to the
overthrow. O strange and astonishing event! the sentence threatening
death, brought forth life! The sentence after it was published became cancelled;
the very opposite to that which takes place among temporal judges! for
in their case the proclamation of the sentence causes it to become valid,
is fully to ratify it; but on the contrary, with God, the publication of
the sentence, caused it to be cancelled. For if it had not been published,
the offenders would not have heard; and if they had not heard, they would
not have repented, and if they had not repented,(2) they would not have
warded off the punishment, nor would they have obtained that astonishing
deliverance. For how is it less than astonishing, when the judge declares
sentence, and the condemned discharge the sentence by their repentance!
They, indeed, did not flee from the city as we are now doing, but remaining
in it they caused it to stand. It was a snare, and they made it a fortification!
It was a gulph, and a precipice, and they turned it into a tower of safety!
They had heard that the buildings would fall, and yet they fled not from
the buildings, but they fled from their sins. They did not depart each
from his house as we do now, but each departed from his evil way; for,
said they, "why should we think the walls have brought forth the wrath?
we are the causes of the wound; we then should provide the medicine." Therefore
they trusted for safety, not to a change of habitations,(3) but of habits.(4)
17. Thus did the barbarians! and are we not ashamed,
and ought we not to hide our faces, whilst instead of changing our habits,
as they did, we change only our habitations; privily removing our goods,
and doing the deeds of men that are drunken? Our Master is angry with us;
and we, neglecting to appease His wrath, carry about our household stuff
from place to place, and run hither and thither, seeking where we may deposit
our substance; while we ought rather to seek where we may deposit our soul
in safety; or rather, it behoveth us not to seek, but to entrust its safety
to virtue and uprightness of life. For when we were angry and displeased
with a servant, if he, instead of defending himself against our displeasure,
went down to his apartment, and collecting together his clothes, and binding
up together all his movables, meditated a flight, we could not tamely put
up with this contempt. Let us then desist from this unseasonable endeavour,
and let us each say to God, "Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit, and whither
shall I flee from Thy presence?"(5) Let us imitate the spiritual wisdom
of the barbarians. They repented even on uncertain grounds! For the sentence
had no such clause, "If ye turn and repent, I will set up the city;" but
simply, "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown."(6) What then
said they? "Who knoweth whether God will repent of the evil He said He
would do unto us?" Who knoweth? They know not the end of the event, and
yet they do not neglect repentance! They are unacquainted with God's method
of snewing mercy, and yet they change upon the strength of uncertainties!
For neither was it in their power to look at other Ninevites who had repented
and been saved; nor had they read prophets; nor had they heard patriarchs;
nor had they enjoyed counsel, or partaken of admonition; nor had they persuaded
themselves that they should certainly propitiate God by repentance. For
the threatening did not imply this: but they were doubtful, and hesitating
concerning it; and yet they repented with all diligence. What reason then
shall we have to urge, when those, who had no ground for confidence as
to the issue, are seen to have exhibited so great a change; but thou who
hast ground of confidence in the mercy of God, and who hast frequently
received many pledges of His care, and hast heard prophets, and apostles,
and hast been instructed by actual events;
378
hast yet no emulation to reach the same measure of virtue as these did!
Great assuredly was their virtue! but greater by far was the mercy of God!
and this may be seen from the very greatness of the threat. For this reason
God did not add to the declaration, "But if ye repent. I will spare:" in
order that by setting forth a sentence without limitation, He might increase
the fear and having increased the fear, He might constrain them more speedily
to repentance.
18. The prophet is indeed ashamed, fore-seeing what
the issue would be, and conjecturing that what he had prophesied, would
remain unaccomplished; God however is not ashamed, but is desirous of one
thing only, viz. the salvation of men, and corrects His own servant. For
when he had entered the ship, He straightway there raised a boisterous
sea; in order that thou mightest know that where sin is, there is a tempest;
where there is disobedience, there is the swelling of e waves.(1) The city
was shaken because of the sins of the Ninevites; and the ship was shaken
because of the disobedience of the prophet. The sailors therefore threw
Jonah m the deep, and the ship was preserved. Let us then drown our sins,
and our city will assuredly be safe! Flight will certainly be no advantage
to us; for it did not profit him; on the contrary, it did him injury. He
fled from the land indeed, but he fled not from the wrath of God; he fled
from the land, but he brought the tempest after him on the sea; and so
far was he from obtaining any benefit by his flight, that he plunged those
also who received him into the extremest peril. And whilst he sat sailing
in the ship, although the sailors, the pilots, and all the necessary apparatus
of the ship were there present, he was placed in the utmost danger. After,
however, having been thrown out into the deep, and having put away his
sin by means of the punishment, he had been conveyed into that unstable(2)
vessel, I mean, the whale's belly, he enjoyed great security. This was
for the purpose of teaching thee, that as no ship can be of any use to
him who is living in sin, so him who has put away his sin, the sea cannot
drown, nor monsters destroy. Of a truth, the waves received, but they did
not suffocate him. The whale received him, but did not destroy him; but
both the animal and the element gave back to God unhurt that, with which
they were entrusted; and by all these things the prophet was taught to
be humane and merciful; and not to be more cruel than wild beasts, or thoughtless
sailors, or unruly waves. For even the sailors did not immediately at first
give him up, but after much compulsion; and the sea and the monster guarded
him with great kindness; all these things being under God's direction.
19. Therefore he came back again; he preached; he
threatened; he persuaded; he preserved; he affrighted; he amended; he established;
by one, and that the first preaching! Many days he needed not, nor continued
counsel; but speaking these simple words only, he brought all to repentance!
On this account God did not lead him directly from the ship into the city;
but the sailors committed him to the sea; the sea to the whale; the whale
to God; God to the Ninevites; and by this long circuit he brought back
the fugitive, that he might instruct all, that it is impossible to fly
from the hands of God; that whithersoever any one may roam, dragging his
sin after him, he will have to undergo a thousand evils; and though no
mortal were present, yet on every side the whole creation will rise up
against him with the utmost vehemence! Let us not then provide for our
safety by flight, but by a change of the moral character. Is it for remaining
in the city that God is angry with thee, that thou shouldest fly? It is
because thou hast sinned, that He is indignant. Lay aside therefore the
sin, and where the cause of thy wound lies, thence remove(3) the fountain
of the evil. For the physicians too give us directions to cure contraries
by contraries. Is fever, for instance, produced by a full diet? They subject
the disease to the regimen of abstinence. Does any one fall sick from sadness?
They say that mirth is the suitable medicine for it. Thus also it befits
us to act with respect to diseases of the soul. Hath listlessness excited
the wrath? let us shake this off by zeal, and let us manifest in our conduct
a great change. We have the fast, a very great auxiliary and ally in our
warfare; and besides the fast, we have the impending distress, and the
fear of danger. Now then, in season, let us be at work on the soul; for
we shall easily be able to persuade it to whatever we choose; since he
who is alarmed and trembling, and set free from all luxury, and who lives
in terror, is able to practise moral wisdom without difficulty, and to
receive the seeds of virtue with much alacrity.
20. Let us therefore persuade it to
make
379
this first change for the better, by the avoidance of oaths; for although
I spake to you yesterday. and the day before,(1) on this same subject;
yet neither to-day, nor to-morrow, nor the day after, will I desist giving
my counsel on this subject. And why do I say to-morrow and the day following?
Until I see that you are amended, I will not abstain from doing so. If
those, indeed, who transgress this law, are not ashamed, far less should
we who bid them not transgress it, feel this frequency of the admonition
to be a matter worthy of shame. For to be continually reminding men of
the same topics is not the fault of the speaker, but of the hearers, needing
as they do perpetual instruction, upon simple and easily-observed precepts.
What indeed is easier than not to swear? It is only a good work of habit.
It is neither labour of the body, nor expenditure of wealth. Art thou desirous
to learn how it is possible to get the better of this infirmity, how it
is possible to be set free from this evil habit? I will tell thee of a
particular method by which if pursued thou wilt certainly master it. If
thou seest either thyself or any other person, whether it be one of thy
servants, or of thy children, or thy wife, ensnared in this vice; when
thou hast continually reminded them of it, and they are not amended, order
them to retire to rest supperless;(2) and impose this sentence upon thyself,
as well as upon them, a sentence which will bring with it no injury, but
a gain. For such is the nature of spiritual acts; they bring profit and
a speedy reformation. The tongue when constantly punished, when straitened
by thirst. and pained by hunger, receives a sufficient admonition, even
whilst no one is its monitor; and though we were the most stupid of mortals,
yet when we are thus reminded by the greatness of the punishment during
a whole day, we shall need no other counsel and exhortation.
21. Ye have applauded what I have spoken. But still
shew me your applause too by deeds. Else what is the advantage of our meeting
here? Suppose a child were to go to school every day, yet if he learnt
nothing the more for it, would the excuse satisfy us that he every day
went there? Should we not esteem it the greatest fault, that going there
daily, he did it to no purpose. Let us consider this with ourselves, and
let us say to ourselves, For so long a time have we met together at church,
having the benefit of a most solemn Communion,(3) which has in it much
profit; and should we return back again just as we came, with none of our
defects corrected, of what advantage is our coming here? For most actions
are done, not for themselves, but for the effects which follow through
their means; as, for example, the sower does not sow for the mere sake
of sowing, but in order that he may reap too; since if this were not to
follow, the sowing would be a loss, the seeds rotting without any kind
of advantage. The merchant doth not take a voyage merely for sailing's
sake, but that he may increase his substance by going abroad; since, if
this be not attained beside, extreme mischief will result, and the voyage
of merchants were but for loss. Let us indeed consider this in relation
to ourselves. We also meet together in the church, not for the mere purpose
of spending time here, but in order that we may return having gained
a great and spiritual benefit. Should we then depart empty, and without
having received any advantage, this our diligence becomes our condemnation!
In order that this may not occur, and extreme mischief result, on
departing from this place, let friends practise with one another; fathers
with children; and masters with servants; and train yourselves to perform
the task assigned you; so that when ye come back again, and hear us giving
you counsel on the same subjects, ye may not be put to shame by an accusing
conscience, but may rejoice. and be glad, whilst ye perceive that ye have
accomplished the greatest part of the admonition.
22. Let us not moralize on these things here only.
For this temporary admonition does not suffice to extirpate the whole evil;
but at home also, let the husband hear of these things from the wife, and
the wife from the husband. And let there be a kind of rivalry among all
in endeavouring to gain precedence in the fulfilment of this law; and let
him who is in advance, and hath amended his conduct, reproach him who is
still loitering behind; to the end that he may stir him up the more by
these gibes. He who is deficient, and hath not yet amended his conduct,
let him look at him who hath outstripped him, and strive with emulation
to come up with him quickly. If we take advice on these points, and are
anxiously concerned about
380
them, our other affairs will speedily be well adjusted. Be thou solicitous
about God's business, and he will take care of thine! And do not say to
me, "What if any one should impose upon us the necessity of taking oaths?
What if he should not believe us?" For assuredly, where a law is transgressed,
it is improper to make mention of necessity; forasmuch as there is but
one necessity which cannot be dispensed with, viz. that of not offending
God! This, however, I say further; cut off in the meantime superfluous
oaths, those that are taken uselessly, and without any necessity; those
to your own family, those to your friends, those to your servants; and
should you take away these, you will have no further need of me for the
others. For the very mouth that has been well disciplined to dread and
to avoid the frequent oath, should any one constrain it a thousand times,
would never consent to relapse again into the same habit. On the contrary,
as now, with much labor and vast importunity, by alarming, threatening,
exhorting, and counselling, we have scarcely been able to bring it over
to a different habit, so in that case, although any one were to impose
ever so great necessity, he could not possibly persuade to a transgression
of this law. And as a person would never choose to take a particular poison,
however urgent the necessity might be, so neither would he to utter an
oath!
23. Should this amendment then take place, it will
be an encouragement and inducement to the attainment of the remaining parts
of virtue. For he who has not accomplished anything at all becomes listless,
and · quickly falls; but he who is conscious with himself that he
has fulfilled at least one precept, coming by this to have a good hope,
will go on with greater alacrity towards the rest; so that, after he has
reached one, he will presently come to another; and will not halt until
he has attained the crown of all. For if with regard to wealth, the more
any one obtains of it, the more he desires, much rather may this be seen
with reference to spiritual attainments. Therefore I hasten, and am urgent
that this work may take its commencement, and that the foundation of virtue
may be laid in your souls. We pray and beseech, that ye will remember these
words, not only at the present time, but also at home, and in the market,
and wheresoever ye pass your time. Oh! that it were possible for me familiarly
to converse with you!(1) then this long harangue of mine would have been
unnecessary. But now since this may not be, instead of me, remember my
words: and while you are sitting at table, suppose me to enter, and to
be standing beside you, and dinning into you the things I now say to you
in this place. And wheresoever there may be any discourse concerning me
among you, above all things remember this precept, and render me this recompense
far my love toward you. If I see that you have fulfilled it, I have received
my full return, and have obtained a sufficient recompense for my labours.
In order then that ye may both render us the more active, and that yourselves
too may be in the enjoyment of a good hope; and may provide for the accomplishment
of the remaining precepts with greater facility; treasure up this precept
in your souls with much care, and ye will then understand the benefit of
this admonition. And since a vestment broidered with gold is a beautiful
and conspicuous object, but seems much more so to us when it is worn upon
our own person; thus also the precepts of God are beautiful when being
praised, but appear far more lovely when they are rightly practised. For
now indeed ye commend what is spoken during a brief moment of time, but
if ye reduce it to practice, you will alike commend both yourselves and
us all day long, and all your lives long. And this is not the grand point,
that we shall praise one another; but that God will accept us; and not
only accept us, but will also reward us with those gifts that are great
and unspeakable! Of which may we all be deemed worthy, through the grace
and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom, and with whom,
to the Father together with the Holy Ghost, be glory, now and always, for
ever and ever. Amen.
381
HOMILY VI.
This Homily is intended to shew that the fear of Magistrates is beneficial.
It also contains an account of what occurred, during their journey, to
those who were conveying the tidings of the sedition to the Emperor. The
case of Jonah is further cited in illustration. The exhortation on the
fear of death is here continued; and it is shewn, that he who suffers unjustly,
and yet gives thanks to God, by whose permission it happens, is as one
suffering for God's sake. Examples are again adduced from the history of
the Three Children, and the Babylonian furnace. The Homily concludes with
an address on the necessity of abstaining from oaths.
1. WE have spent many days addressing words of comfort
to your Charity. We would not, however, on that account lay the subject
aside; but as long as the sore of despondency remains, we will apply to
it the medicine of consolation. For if in the case of bodily wounds, physicians
do not give over their fomentations, until they perceive that the pain
has subsided; much less ought this to be done in regard to the soul. Despondency
is a sore of the soul; and we must therefore foment it continually with
soothing words. For not so naturally is warm water efficacious to soften
a hard tumour of the flesh, as words of comfort are powerful to allay the
swelling passions of the soul.(1) Here, there is no need of the sponge
as with physician, but instead of this we employ the tongue. No need of
fire here, that we may warm the water; but instead of fire, we make use
of the grace of the Spirit. Suffer us then to do so to-day. For if we were
not to comfort you, where else could ye obtain consolation? The judges
affright; the priests therefore must console The rulers threaten; therefore
must the Church give comfort! Thus it happens with respect to little children.
The teachers frighten them, and send them away weeping to their mothers;
but the mothers receiving them back to their own bosoms, keep them there,
embrace them, and kiss them, while they wipe away their tears, and relieve
their sorrowing spirits; persuading them by what they say, that it is profitable
for them to fear their teachers. Since therefore the rulers also make you
afraid, and render you anxious, the Church, which is the common mother
of us all, opening her bosom, and cradling us in her arms, administers
daily consolation; telling us that the fear of rulers is profitable, and
profitable too the consolation that comes from hence.(2) For the fear of
the former does not permit us to be relaxed by listlessness, but the consolation
of the latter does not allow us to sink under the weight of sadness; and
by both these means God provides for our safety. He Himself hath armed
magistrates with power; that they may strike terror into the licentious;
and hath ordained His priests that they may administer consolation to those
that are in sorrow.
2. And both these things are taught us by the Scripture,
and by actual experience of recent events. For if, whilst there are magistrates
and soldiers living under arms, the madness of a few individuals, a motley
crew of adventurers, hath kindled such a fire among us, in so short a moment(3)
of time, and raised such a tempest, and made us all to stand in fear of
shipwreck, suppose the fear of magistrates to be wholly taken away? To
what lengths would they not have gone in their madness? Would they not
have overthrown the city from its foundations, turning all things upside
down, and have taken our very lives? If you were to abolish the public
tribunals, you would abolish all order from our life. And even as if you
deprive the ship of its pilot, you sink the vessel; or as, if you remove
the general from the army, you place the soldiers bound in the hands of
the enemy; so if you deprive the city of its rulers, we must lead a life
less rational than that of the brutes, biting and devouring one another;
the rich man, the poorer; the stronger man, the weaker; and the bolder
man, him who is more gentle. But now by the grace of God none of these
things happen. For they who live in a state of piety, require no correction
on the part of the magistrates; for "the law is not made for a righteous
man,"(4) saith one. But the more numerous being viciously inclined, if
they had no fear of these hanging over them, would fill the cities with
innumerable evils; which Paul knowing, observed, "There is no power, but
382
of God, the powers that be are ordained of God."(1) For what the tie-beams(2)
are in houses, that rulers are in cities; and in the same manner as if
you were to take away the former, the walls, being disunited, would fall
in upon one another of their own accord; so were you to deprive the world
of magistrates, and of the fear that comes of them, houses at once, and
cities, and nations, would fall on one another in unrestrained confusion,
there being no one to represS, or repel, or persuade them to be peaceful,
by the fear of punishment!
3. Let us not then be grieved, beloved, by the fear
of our rulers, but let us give thanks to God that He hath removed our listlessness,
and rendered us more diligent. For tell me, what harm hath arisen from
this concern and anxiety? Is it that we are become more grave, and gentle;
more diligent, and attentive? that we see no one intoxicated, and singing
lascivious airs? Or is it that there are continual supplications,(3) and
prayers, and tears? that unseasonable laughter, and impure words, and all
dissoluteness is banished; and that the city is now in all respects, like
the pattern of a modest and virtuous woman? Dost thou grieve, I ask, for
any of these reasons? For these things, assuredly, it were right to rejoice,
and to be thankful to God, that by the terror of a few days He hath put
an end to such stupidity!
"Very true," saith some one, "if our danger did
not go beyond fear, we should have reaped a sufficient benefit; but we
are now in dread lest the mischief should proceed much farther, and we
should be all placed in the extremest peril."
Nevertheless, I say, fear not. Paul comforteth you,
saying, "God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that
ye are able, but will with the temptation also make the way of escape,
that ye may be able to bear it."(4) He indeed Himself hath said. "I will
never leave thee, nor forsake thee."(5) For had He resolved to punish us
in deed, and in actual endurance, He would not have given us over to terror
during so many days. For when He would not punish, He affrights; since
if He were intending to punish, fear would be superfluous, and threatening
superfluous. But now, we have sustained a life more grievous than countless
deaths; fearing and trembling during so many days, and being suspicious
of our very shadows; and paying the punishment of Cain; and in the midst
of our sleep, starting up, through conslant agony of mind. So that if we
have kindled God's wrath, we have appeased Him in the endurance of such
a punishment. For if we have not paid the satisfaction due to our sins,
yet it hath been enough to satisfy the mercy of God.
4. But not this, but many other grounds for confidence
ought we to have. For God hath already given us not a few pledges for favourable
hopes. And first of all, those who carried the evil tidings departing hence
with the speed of wings, supposing they should long ere this have
reached the camp,(6) are yet delayed in the midst of their journey.
So many hindrances and impediments have arisen; and they have left their
horses, and are now proceeding in vehicles; whence their arrival must of
necessity be retarded. For since God here stirred up our priest, and common
father, and persuaded him to go forth, and undertake this embassy, he detained
the messengers for a while, when they were but half way on their road,
lest arriving before him they might kindle the fire, and make our teacher's
efforts to mend matters useless, when the royal ears had become inflamed.
For that this hindrance on the road, was not without God's interposition
is evident from this. Men who had been familiar with such journeys all
their lives, and whose constant business it was to ride on horseback, now
broke down through the fatigue of this very riding; so that what hath now
happened is the reverse of what took place in the case of Jonah. For God
hastened him when unwilling, to go on his mission. But these, who were
desirous to go, He hindered. O strange and wonderful event! He wished not
to preach of an overthrow; and God forced him to go(7) against his will.
These men with much haste set forward to be the bearers of a message of
overthrow, and against their will again He has hindered them! For what
reason think you? Why, because in this case the haste was an injury; but
in the other case, haste brought gain. On this account, He hastened him
forward by means of the whale; and detained these by means of their horses.
Seest thou the wisdom of God? Through the very means by which each party
hoped to accomplish their object, through these each received an hindrance.
Jonah expected to
383
escape by the ship, and the ship became his chain. These couriers, by
means of their horses, expected the more quickly to see the Emperor; and
the horses became the obstacles; or rather, neither the horses in one case,
nor the ship in the other, but the Providence of God everywhere directing
all things according to its own wisdom!
5. Consider also His care over us, and how He both
affrighted and consoled us. For after permitting them to set out on the
very day when all these outrages were committed as if they would report
all that had taken place to the Emperor; He alarmed us all at their sudden
departure. But when they were gone, and two or three days had elapsed,
and we thought the journey of our Priest would now be useless, as he would
arrive when it was too late, He delivered us from this fear, and comforted
us by detaining them, as I observed, midway; and by providing persons coming
to us from thence by the same road, to announce to us all the difficulties
they had met with on their journey, that we might thus take a little breath,
as indeed we did, and were relieved of a great part of our anxiety. Having
heard of this, we adored God who had done it, who hath even now more tenderly
than any father disposed all things for us, delaying by some invisible
power those evil messengers, and all but saying to them, "Why do ye hasten?
Why do ye press on, when ye are going to overwhelm so great a city? For
are ye the bearers of a good message to the Emperor? Wait there till I
have made ready my servant, as an excellent physician, to come up with
you and anticipate you in your course." But if there was so much of providential
care in the first breaking out of this wound of iniquity, much more shall
we obtain a greater freedom from anxiety, after conversion, after repentance,
after so much fear, after tears and prayers. For Jonah was very properly
constrained, in order that he might be forcibly brought to repentance;
but ye have already given striking evidences of repentance, and conversion.
Therefore, it is necessary that you should receive consolation, instead
of a threatening messenger. For this reason also hath He sent our common
father hence, notwithstanding the many things to hinder it. But if He had
not been tender of our safety, He would not have persuaded him to this,
but would have hindered him, however disposed he might be to undertake
the journey.
6. There is a third reason by which I may possibly
persuade you to have confidence; I mean, the present sacred season,(1)
which almost all, even unbelievers, respect; but to which this our divinely-favoured
Emperor has shewn such reverence and honour, as to surpuss all the Emperors
who have reigned with a regard for religion before him. As a proof of this,
by sending a letter on these days in honour of the feast, he liberated
nearly all those who were lodged in prison; and this letter our Priest
when he arrives will read to him; and remind him of his own laws, and will
say to him, "Do thou exhort thyself, and remember thine own deeds! Thou
hast an example for thy philanthropy at home! Thou didst choose to forbear
from executing a justifiable slaughter, and wilt thou endure to perpetrate
one that is unjust. Reverencing the feast, thou didst discharge those who
had been convicted and condemned; and wilt thou, I ask, condemn the innocent,
and those who have not committed any violence, and this when the sacred
season is present? That be far from thee, O Emperor! Thou, speaking by
this Epistle to all the cities, didst say, 'Would it were possible for
me to raise even the dead.' This philanthropy and these words we now stand
in need of. To conquer enemies, doth not render kings so illustrious, as
to conquer wrath and anger; for in the former case, the success is due
to arms and soldiers; but here the trophy is simply thine own, and thou
hast no one to divide with thee the glory of thy moral wisdom. Thou hast
overcome barbarian war, overcome also Imperial wrath! Let all unbelievers
learn that the fear of Christ is able to bridle every kind of authority.
Glorify thy Lord by forgiving the trespasses of thy fellow-servants; that
He also may glorify thee the more; that at the Day of Judgment, He may
bend on thee an Eye merciful and serene, being mindful of this thy lovingkindness!"
This, and much more, he will say, and will assuredly rescue us from the
Emperor wrath. And not only will this fast be of the greatest assistance
to us in influencing the Emperor in our favour, but also towards enduring
what befalls us with fortitude; for we reap no small consolation from this
season. For our very meeting together daily as we do, and having the benefit
of hearing the divine Scriptures; and beholding each other; and weeping
with each other; and praying, and receiving Benedictions,(2) and so
384
departing home, takes off the chief part of our distress.
7. Let us, therefore, not despond, nor give ourselves
up by reason of our distress; but let us wait, expecting a favourable issue;
and let us give heed to the things that are now about to be spoken. For
it is my purpose to discourse to you again to day respecting contempt for
death. I said to you, yesterday, that we are afraid of death, not because
he is really formidable; but because the love of the kingdom hath not kindled
us, nor the fear of hell laid hold of us; and because besides this we have
not a good conscience. Are you desirous that I should speak of a fourth
reason for this unseasonable distress, one which is not less,(1) and truer
than the rest? We do not live with the austerity that becometh Christians.
On the contrary, we love to follow this voluptuous and dissolute and indolent
life; therefore also it is but natural that we cleave to present things;
since if we spent this life in fastings, vigils, and poverty of diet, cutting
off all our extravagant desires; setting a restraint upon our pleasures;
undergoing the toils of virtue; keeping the body under(2) like Paul, and
bringing it into subjection; not "making provision for the lusts of the
flesh;"(3) and pursuing the strait and narrow way, we should soon be earnestly
desirous of future things, and eager to be delivered from our present labours.
And to prove that what I say is not untrue, ascend to the tops of the mountains,
and observe the monks who are there; some in sackcloth; some in bonds;
some in fastings; some shut up(4) in darkness. Thou wilt then perceive,
that all these are earnestly desiring death, and calling it rest. For even
as the pugilist is eager to leave the stadium, in order that he may be
freed from wounds; and the wrestler longs for the theatre to break up,
that he may be released from his toils; so also he who by the aid of virtue
leads a life of austerity, and mortification, earnestly longs for death
in order that he may be freed from his present labours, and may be able
to have full assurance in regard to the crowns laid up in store, by arriving
in the still harbour, and migrating to the place where there is no further
apprehension of shipwreck. Therefore, also, hath God provided for us a
life that is naturally laborious and troublesome; to the end that being
here urged by tribulation, we may conceive an eager longing for future
blessings; for if now, whilst there are so many sorrows, and dangers, and
fears, and anxieties, surrounding us on all sides, we thus cling to the
present life; when should we ever be desirous of the life to come, if our
present existence were altogether void of grief and misery?
8. Thus also God acted towards the Jews. For wishing
to infuse into them a desire of returning (to Canaan), and to persuade
them to hate Egypt, He permitted them to be distressed by working in clay,
and brick-making, that being oppressed by that weight of toil and affliction,
they might cry unto God respecting their return. For if, indeed when they
departed after these things had happened, they did again remember Egypt,
with their hard slavery, and were urgent to turn back to that former tyranny;
what if they had received no such treatment from these barbarians? when
would they have ever wished to leave that strange land?(5) To the end,
therefore, that we may not be too closely attached to the earth, and grow
wretched whilst gaping after present things, and become unmindful of futurity,
God hath made our lives here full of labour. Let us not then cherish the
love of the present life beyond what is necessary. For what doth it profit
us? or what is the advantage of being closely rivetted to the desire of
this present state? Art thou willing to learn in what respect this life
is advantageous? It is so, inasmuch as it is the ground-work and starting
point of the life to come; the wrestling-school and the arena for crowns
of victory hereafter! so that if it does not provide these for us, it is
worse than a thousand deaths. For if we do not wish to live so as to please
God, it is better to die. For what is the gain? What have we the more?
Do we not every day see the same sun, and the same moon, the same winter,
the same summer, the same course of things? "The thing that hath been,
shall be; and that which is done, is that which shall be done."(6) Let
us not then at once pronounce those happy, who are alive, and
385
bewail the dead, but let us weep for those who are in their sins, whether
they be dead or alive. And on the other hand, let us call those happy in
whatsoever condition they be, who are in a state of righteousness. Thou,
forsooth, fearest and lamentest "one" death; but Paul, who was dying daily,(1)
was so far from shedding a tear on that account, that he rejoiced and exulted!
9. "O that I did endure the peril for God," saith
some one, "then I should have no anxiety!" But do not even now sink into
despondency; for not only indeed is he well approved, who suffers in the
cause of God: but he who is suffering any thing unjustly:(2) and bearing
it nobly, and giving thanks to God who permits it, is not inferior to him
who sustains these trials for God's sake. The blessed Job is a proof of
this, who received so many intolerable wounds through the devil's plotting
against him uselessly, vainly, and without cause. Yet, nevertheless, because
he bore them courageously, and gave thanks to God who permitted them, he
was invested with a perfect(3) crown. Be not sad then on account of death;
for it is natural to die: but grieve for sin; because it is a fault of
the will. But if thou grievest for the dead, mourn also for those who are
born into the world; for as the one thing is of nature, so is the other
too of nature. Should any one, therefore, threaten thee with death, say
to him, "I am instructed by Christ not to 'fear them which kill the body,
but are not able to kill the soul.'"(4) Or should he threaten thee with
the confiscation of thy goods, say to him, "Naked came I out of my mother's
womb, and naked shall I return thither. We brought nothing into this world,
and it is certain we can carry nothing out."(5) "And though thou take me
not, death will come and take me; and though thou slay me not, yet the
law of nature will presently interfere and bring the end." Therefore we
should fear none of these things which are brought on us by the order of
nature, but those which are engendered by our own evil will; for these
bring forth our penalty. But let us continually consider this, that as
regards the events which come upon us unexpectedly we shall not mend them
by grieving, and so we shall cease to grieve.
10. And moreover we should think of this again,
that if we suffer any evil unjustly, during the present life, we discharge
a multitude of sins. Therefore it is a great advantage to have out the
chastisement of our sins here, and not there; for the rich man received
no evil here, and therefore he was scorched in the flames there; and that
this was the reason why he did not enjoy any consolation,(6) hear in proof
what Abraham saith, "Son, thou hast received thy good things; therefore
thou art tormented." But that to the good things bestowed on Lazarus, not
only his virtue, but his having here suffered a thousand ills, contributed,
learn also from the patriarch's words. For having said to the rich man,
"Thou hast received(7) thy good things," he goes on to say, "and Lazarus
evil things, and for this reason he is comforted."(8) For as they who live
virtuously, and are afflicted, receive a double reward from God, so he
who liveth in wickedness, and fares sumptuously, shall have a double punishment.
Again, I declare this not for the purpose of accusing those who have taken
flight, for it is said, "Add not more trouble to a heart that is vexed;"(9)
nor do I say it because I wish to rebuke; (for the sick man stands in need
of consolation); but for the purpose of endeavouring to promote an amendment.
Let us not entrust our safety to flight, but flee from sins, and depart
from our evil way. If we escape from these things, although we be in the
midst of ten thousand soldiers; not one of them will be able to smite us;
but not flying from these, though we ascend to the very summit of the mountains,
we shall there find innumerable enemies! Let us again call to mind those
three children, who were in the midst of the furnace, yet suffered no evil,
and those who cast them into it, how they that sat around were all consumed.
What is more wonderful than this? The fire freed those it held possession
of, and violently seized those whom it did not hold, to teach thee, that
not the habitation, but the habit of life, bringeth safety or punishment.
Those within the furnace escaped, but those without were consumed. To each
alike were the same bodies, but not the same dispositions.(10) For this
reason neither were the effects on them the same; for hay, although it
lie without the flame, is quickly kindled; but gold, although it remain
within, becomes the more resplendent!
11. Where now are those who said, "Let the Emperor
take all, and grant us our bodies free?" Let such go and learn what is
a free body. It is not immunity from
386
punishment that makes the body free, but perseverance in a life of righteousness.
The bodies of these youths, for instance, were free, though they were given
over to the furnace, because they had before put off the slavery of sin.
For this alone is liberty; and not an immunity from punishment, or from
suffering. anything fearful. But having heard of the furnace, call thou
to mind the "rivers of fire,"(1) which there shall be in that fearful day.
For as on the above occasion, the fire seized upon some, but reverenced
others, so also shall it be with those rivers. If any one should then have
hay, wood, stubble, he increases(2) the fire; but if he has gold and silver,
he(3) becomes the brighter. Let us therefore get together this kind of
material, and let us bear the present state of things nobly; knowing that
this tribulation will both bring us deliverance from that punishment if
we understand how to practise true wisdom,(4) and will also make us better
here; and not only us, but but often those too, who throw us into trouble,
if we be vigilant; so abundant is the force of this spiritual wisdom; which
was the case then even with the tyrant. For when he knew that they had
suffered no harm, hear how he changed his language. "Ye servants of the
most high God, come forth, and come hither."(5) Didst not thou say, a little
before "Who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?"(6) What
hath happened? Whence this change? Thou sawest those without destroyed,
and dost thou call on those within? Whence hath it come to pass that thou
art grown wise in such matters. Thou seest how great a change took place
in the monarch! Whilst he had not yet exercised his power over them, he
blasphemed, but as soon as he had cast them into fire, he began to shew
moral wisdom. For this reason also God permitted all to take place, whatsoever
the tyrant wished, in order that He might make it manifest, that none will
be able to injure those who are kept by Him. And what He did towards Job,
He performed here. For on that occasion also, He permitted the devil to
manifest all his power; and not till he had exhausted all his darts, and
no further mode of plotting against him remained, was the combatant led
out of the field, that the victory might be brilliant and indubitable.
So here too He did the very same thing. He willed to overthrow their city,
and God stayed him not: he willed to carry them away captive, and He hindered
him not: he willed to bind them, and He permitted; to cast them into the
furnace, and He allowed it: to heat the flame beyond its measure, and this
too He suffered; and when there was nothing further left for the tyrant
to do, and he had exhausted all his strength, then God manifested His own
power. and the patience of the youths. Seest thou how God permitted these
tribulations even to the end, that He might shew the assailants the spiritual
wisdom of those whom they assailed, as well as His own providence. Both
of which circumstances also that man then discerned, and cried out, "Ye
servants of the most high God, come forth, and come hither."
12. But consider thou with me the magnanimity of
the youths; for they neither sprang out before the call, lest some should
suppose they feared the fire; nor when they were called did they remain
within, lest any one should think that they were ambitious and contentious.
"As soon," say they, "as thou hast learnt whose servants we are, as soon
as thou hast acknowledged our Lord, we come forth to be heralds to all
who are present of the power of God." Or rather, not only they themselves,
but even the enemy with his own voice, yea, both orally, and by his epistle,
proclaimed to all men both the constancy of the combatants, and the strength
of Him who presided over the contest. And even as the heralds, when they
proclaim the names of the victorious combatants in the midst of the theatre,
mention also the cities to which they belong; "such an one, of such a city!"
So he too, instead of their city, proclaimed their Lord, by saying, "Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego, ye servants of the most high God, come forth, and
come hither." What is come to pass, that thou callest them the servants
of God? Were they not thy servants? "Yea," saith he, "but they have overthrown(7)
my sovereignty; they have trampled under foot my pride. They have shown
by deeds, that He is their true Lord. If they were the servants of men,
the fire would not have feared them; the flame would not have made way
for them; for the creation knows nothing of reverencing or honoring the
servants of men." Therefore again he saith, "Blessed be the God of Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego."
387
13. Contemplate with me also, how first he proclaims
the Arbiter of the contest. "Blessed be God, who hath sent His angel and
delivered His servants."(1) This of the power of God. He speaks also of
the virtue of the combatants. "Because they trusted in Him, and have changed
the king's word, and have yielded their bodies, that they might not worship
any god except their own God." Could anything equal the virtue of this?
Before this, when they said, "We will not serve thy gods," he was inflamed
more fiercely than the very furnace; but now, when by their deeds they
had taught him this, he was so far from being indignant, that he praised
and admired them, for not having obeyed him! So good a thing is virtue,
that it has even its enemies themselves to applaud and admire it! These
had fought and conquered, but the vanquished party gave thanks, that the
sight of the fire had not terrified them, but that the hope in their Lord
had comforted them. And He names the God of the whole world after the three
youths, not at all circumscribing His sovereignty, but inasmuch as these
three youths were equivalent to the whole world.(2) For this reason he
both applauds those who had despised him, and passing by so many governors,
kings, and princes, those who had obeyed him, he stands in admiration of
the three captives and slaves, who derided his tyranny! For they did these
things, not for the sake of contention, but for the love of wisdom; not
of defiance, but of devotion; not as being puffed up with pride, but fired
with zeal. For great indeed is the blessing of a hope in God; which then
also the barbarian learned, and making it manifest that it was from that
source they had escaped the impending peril, he exclaimed aloud: "Because
they trusted in Him!"(3)
14. But I say all this now, and select all the histories
that contain trials and tribulations, and the wrath of kings, and their
evil designs, in order that we may fear nothing, save only offending
God. For then also was there a furnace burning; yet they derided it,
but feared sin. For they knew that if they were consumed in the fire,
they should suffer nothing that was to be dreaded; but that if
they were guilty of impiety: they should undergo the extremes of misery.
It is the greatest punishment to commit sin, though we may remain unpunished;
as on the other hand, it is the greatest honour and repose to live virtuously,
though we may be punished. For sins separate us from God; as He Himself
speaks; "Have not your sins separated between you and Me?"(4) But punishments
lead us back to God. As one saith, "Give peace; for Thou hast recompensed
us for all things."(5) Suppose any one hath a wound; which is the most
deserving of fear, gangrene, or the surgeon's knife? the steel, or the
devouring progress of the ulcer? Sin is a gangrene, punishment is the surgeon's
knife. As then, he who hath a gangrene, although he is not lanced, hath
to sustain the malady, and is then in the worse condition, when he is not
lanced; so also the sinner, though he be not punished, is the most wretched
of men; and is then especially wretched, when he hath no punishment, and
is suffering no distress. And as those who have a disease of the spleen,
or a dropsy, when they enjoy a plentiful table, and cool drinks, and a
variety of delicacies, and condiments, are then especially in a most pitiable
state, increasing as they do their disease by luxury; but should they rigorously
subject themselves to hunger and thirst, according to medical laws, they
might have some hope of recovery; so also those who live in iniquity, if
they are punished, may have favourable hopes; but if, together with their
wickedness, they enjoy security and luxury, they become more wretched than
those who cram their bellies, though they are in a state of dropsy; and
so much the more, as the soul is better than the body. If then thou seest
any who are in the same sins, and some of them struggling continually with
hunger, and a thousand ills; while others are drinking their fill, and
living sumptuously, and gormandizing; think those the better off, who endure
sufferings. For not only is the flame of voluptuousness cut off by these
misfortunes, but they also depart to the future Judgment, and that dread
tribunal,(6) with no small relief; and go hence,
388
hawing discharged here the penalty of the greater part of their sins
by the ills they have suffered.
15. But enough of consolation. It is time for us
now, at last, to proceed to the exhortation on the subject of avoiding
oaths, and to remove that seeming palliation on behalf of those who swear,
which is but futile,(1) and useless. For when we bring an accusation against
them, they allege the case of others who do the very same thing; and they
say, "such and such persons swear." Let us then say to these, Nevertheless;
such a man does not swear: and God will give His judgment concerning thee,
from those who do good works; for sinners do not profit sinners by fellowship
in transgressions; but they who perform what is right condemn sinners.(2)
For they who gave not Christ food, or drink, were many; but they rendered
no aid to each other.(3) Similar also was the case of the five virgins,
who found no pardon from companionship,(4) but being condemned by a comparison
with those who had acted wisely, both these and the former were alike punished.
16. Dismissing then this argument of frigid self-deception,
let us not look at the case of those who fall, but at those who fashion
their conduct rightly; and let us endeavour to carry along with us a memento
of the present fast when it is over. And as it oftens happens when we have
purchased a vestment, or a slave, or a precious vase, we recall again the
time when we did so, and say to each other, "That slave I purchased at
such a festival; that garment I bought at such a time;" so, in like manner,
if we now reduce to practice this law, we shall say, I reformed the practice
of swearing during that Lent; for till then I was a sweater; but from barely
hearing an admonition, I have abstained from the sin.
But "the custom," it may be objected, "is a hard
thing to be reformed." I know it is; and therefore am urgent to throw you
into another custom, which is good and profitable. For when you say, it
is difficult for me to abstain from what is habitual; for that very reason,
I say, you should make haste to abstain, knowing for certain, that if you
once s make another custom for yourself of not swearing, you will want
no labour afterwards. Which is the more difficult thing; not to swear,
or to remain the whole day without food; and to shrivel up(6) on water-drinking,
and meagre diet? It is evident that the latter surpasses the former; yet,
notwithstanding, custom has made this matter so possible and easy of execution,
that when the fast comes round, although any one should exhort a thousand
times, or as frequently constrain and compel one to partake of wine, or
taste of any other of those things which are forbidden during fasts, yet
a man would prefer to suffer anything, rather than touch the prohibited
article of food;(7) and that not for want of relish for the table, nevertheless,
we bear it all with fortitude, from the habit of our conscience. And the
case will be the same in regard to oaths; and just as if now, any one were
to impose ever so great necessity, you would remain immovable, holding
fast the habit;(8) so also in that case, if any one should urge you ten
thousand times, you would not depart from your custom.
18. When you go home, therefore, discourse of all
these things with those who are in your house; and as many persons often
do, when they come back from a meadow, having plucked there a rose, or
a violet, or some flower of that kind, they return twisting(9) it about
with their fingers; and as some, again, when they quit the gardens to go
home, take with them branches of trees, with their fruit upon them; and
as others, moreover, from sumptuous feasts, carry away leavings of the
entertainment for their dependents; so indeed do thou, departing from hence,
take an exhortation home to thy wife, thy children, and all thine household.
For this admonition is more profitable than the meadow, the garden, or
the banquetting table. These roses never wither; these fruits never drop
off; these dainties never corrupt. The former yield a temporary delight;
but the latter a lasting advantage, not only after this reformation has
taken place, but in the very act of reforming. For think what a good practice
this would be, having dismissed all other matters public or private, to
discourse(10)
389
only of the divine laws continually, at the tables in the forum, and
in your other meetings. Would we give our attention to these things, we
should say nothing of a dangerous or injurious nature, nor should we sin
unwittingly. Giving our leisure to discourse respecting these things, we
should be able to withdraw our soul even from this despondency that hangs
over us, instead of looking with so much anxiety as we do, whilst we say
one to another, "Hath the Emperor heard what hath happened? Is he incensed?
What sentence hath he pronounced?(1) Hath any one petitioned him? What?
Will he himself endure to destroy utterly a city so great and populous?"
Casting these and all such cares upon God, let us be anxious only as to
what He hath commanded! Thus shall we rid ourselves of all these sorrows;
and although ten only among us should succeed, the ten would quickly become
twenty; the twenty fifty; the fifty a hundred; the hundred a thousand;
the thousand all the city, And just as when ten lamps are lighted, one
may easily fill the whole house with light, so also with respect to right
actions; should only ten act rightly, we shall light up a general flame
throughout the city, to shine forth, and to procure us safety. For not
so naturally does the fire, when it falls upon a forest, kindle the neighbouring
trees successively, as will the emulation for virtue, when it seizes upon
a few minds, be mighty in its progress to diffuse itself through the whole
community.
19. Give me cause, then, to exult over you both
in the present life, and at that future Day, when those to whom talents
have been entrusted, shall be summoned! Your good reputation is a sufficient
reward for my labours; and if I see you living in piety, I have all I wish.
Do, then, what yesterday I recommended, and to-day will repeat, and will
not cease to say it. Fix a penalty for those who swear; a penalty which
is a gain, and not a loss; and prepare yourselves henceforth so as you
may give us a proof of success. For I shall endeavour to hold a long conversation
with each of you, when this assembly is dismissed; in order that in the
continuance of discourse I may discover the persons who have been acting
rightly, and those who have not.(2) And if I find any one still swearing,
I shall make him manifest to all who are amended, that by reproving, rebuking,
and correcting, we may quickly deliver him from this evil habit. For better
it is that he should amend through being reproached here, than that he
should be put to shame, and punished, in the presence of the whole assembled
universe, on that Days when our sins shall be revealed to the eyes of all
men! But God forbid that any in this fair assembly should appear there
suffering such things! but by the prayers of the holy fathers? correcting
all our offences, and hav-
390
ing shown forth the abundant fruit of virtue, may we depart hence with much confidence, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom, and with whom, be glory to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY VII.
Recapitulation of former exhortations. Sin brought death and grief into
the world, and they tend to its cure. Grief serviceable only for the destruction
of sin. Remarks upon the passage, Gen. 1, 1. "In the beginning God created
the heaven and the earth." It is argued that God's forethought for man
in the work of creation affords grounds of comfort; and that mercy is shewn
even in chastisement, as in the saying, "Adam, where art thou?" Concluding
admonition on the avoidance of oaths.
1. YESTERDAY, I discoursed unto your Charity in
many words, and upon many subjects; and if out of this variety, it be not
possible for you to retain all, I wish more particularly to recall to memory
the observation, that God bath implanted the affection grief in our natures
for no other reason but because of sin, and He hath made this evident from
actual experience. For whilst we are grieved and distressed through the
loss of wealth; or by reason of sickness, and death, and the other evils
that befall us, we not only reap no consolation from our sorrow, but we
also increase the force of these calamities. But if we are in pain and
sorrow(1) for our sins, we diminish the weight of sin; we make that little
which is great; and very often we blot it all out entirely. Ye should continually
remember this, I repeat, in order that ye may mourn for sin only, and for
nothing besides; and the additional fact, that sin, though it brought death
and sadness into our life, is again destroyed(2) by both these; which I
have recently made evident. Therefore, let us fear nothing so much as sin
and transgression. Let us not fear punishment, and then we shall escape(3)
punishment. Even as the Three Children were not afraid of the furnace,
and so escaped from the furnace. Such indeed it becomes the servants of
God to be. For if those who were brought up under the Old dispensation,
when death was not yet slain,(4) nor his "brazen gates broken down," nor
his "iron bars smitten in sunder;"(5) so nobly encountered their end,(6)
how destitute of all defence or excuse shall we be, if, after having had
the benefit of such great grace, we attain not even to the same measure
of virtue as they did, now when death is only a name, devoid of reality.
For death is nothing more than a sleep, a journey, a migration, a rest,
a tranquil haven; an escape from trouble, and a freedom from the cares
of this present life!
2. But here let us dismiss the subject of consolation;
it is the fifth day we are engaged in speaking words of comfort to your
Charity, and we might now seem to be troublesome. For what hath been already
said is sufficient
391
for those who give heed; but to those who are pusillanimous it will
be no gain, even though we were to add to what we have said. It is now
time to direct our teaching to the exposition of the Scriptures. For as,
if we had said nothing in reference to the present calamity, one might
have condemned us for cruelty, and a want of humanity; so, were we always
discoursing of this, we might justly be condemned for pusillanimity. Commending
then your hearts to God, who is able to speak(1) into your minds, and to
expel all grief from within, let us now take up our accustomed manner of
instruction; and that especially since every exposition of Scripture is
matter of comfort and relief. So that, although we may seem to be desisting
from the topic of consolation, we shall again light upon the same subject
by means of Scriptural exposition. For that all Scripture furnishes consolation
to those who give attention to it, I will make manifest to you from its
own evidence.(2) For I shall not go about among the Scripture narratives
to search out certain arguments consolatory; but in order that I may make
the proof of the matter which I have undertaken plainer, we will take in
hand the book which has to day been read to us; and bringing forward, if
you will, the introduction and commencement of it, which may especially
seem to present no trace of consolation, but to be altogether foreign to
topics of comfort, I will make that which I affirm evident.
3. What then is this introduction? "In the beginning
God made the heaven and the earth, and the earth was invisible, and unformed?
and darkness was upon the face of the abyss."(4) Do these words seem to
some of you incapable of affording consolation under distress? Is it not
an historical narrative, and an instruction about the creation?
Would you then that I show the consolation that
is hidden in this saying? Arouse yourselves then, and attend with earnestness
to the things which are about to be spoken. For when thou hearest that
God made the heaven, the earth, the sea, the air, the waters, the multitude
of stars, the two great lights, the plants, the quadrupeds, the swimming
and the flying animals, and all things without exception which thou seest,
for thee, and for thy safety and honour; dost thou not straight-way take
comfort and receive this as the strongest proof of the love of God, when
thou thinkest that He produced such a world as this, so fair, so vast and
wonderful, for such a puny being as thyself! When therefore thou hearest
that, "In the beginning God made the heaven and the earth," run not hastily
over the declaration; but traverse in thy mind the breadth of the earth;
and reflect how He hath spread outs so sumptuous and exquisite a table
for us, and provided us with such abundant gladness.(6) And this is, indeed,
the most marvellous thing, that He gave us not such a world as this in
payment for services done; or as a recompense for good works; but at the
very time He formed us, He honoured our race with this kingdom. For He
said, "Let us make man after our image, and after our likeness."(7) What
is the sense of this, "after our image, and after our likeness?" The image
of government(8) is that which is meant; and as there is no one in heaven
superior to God, so let there be none upon earth superior to man. This
then is one, and the first respect, in which He did him honour; by making
him after His own image; and secondly, by providing us with this principality,
not as a payment for services, but making it entirely the gift of His own
love toward man; and thirdly, in that He conferred it upon us as a thing
of nature. For of governments there are some natural, and others which
are elective;--natural as of the lion over the quadrupeds, or as that of
the eagle over the birds; elective, as that of an Emperor over us; for
he doth not reign over his fellow-servants by any natural authority. Therefore
it is that he oftentimes loses his sovereignty. For such are things which
are not naturally inherent;(9) they readily admit of change and transposition.
But not so with the lion; he rules by nature over the quadrupeds, as the
eagle doth over birds. The character of sovereignty is, therefore, constantly
allotted to his race; and no lion hath ever been seen deprived of it. Such
a kind of sovereignty God bestowed upon us from the beginning, and set
us over all things. And not only in this respect did He confer honour upon
our nature,(10) but also, by the very eminence of the spot in which we
392
were placed, fixing upon Paradise as our choice dwelling, and bestowing
the gift of reason, and an immortal soul.
4. But I would not speak of these things: for I
say that such was the abundance of God's care, that we may know His goodness,
and His love towards man, not only from the way in which He hath honoured,
but also from the way in which He hath punished us. And this, I especially
exhort you to consider with attention, that God is alike good, not only
whilst He is treating us with honour and beneficence, but also whilst He
is punishing and chastising. And whether we should have to carry on our
contest and combat against the heathen, or against the heretics, respecting
the lovingkindness and goodness of God, we shall make His goodness evident,
not only from the cases in which He bestows honour, but also from the cases
in which He inflicts punishment. For if He is good only whilst honouring
us, and not good whilst punishing us, He were but half good. But this is
not the case. God forbid! Among men this may probably happen, when they
inflict punishments in anger and passion; but God being free from passion,
whether He exercise kindness, or whether He punish, He is alike good. Nor
less does the threat of hell serve to show His goodness, than the promise
of the kingdom.(1) But how? I answer. If He had not threatened hell, if
He had not prepared punishment, there are not many who would have attained
the kingdom.(2) For the promise of good things doth not so strongly induce
the multitude to virtue; as cloth the threat of evil things compel by fear,
and arouse them to the care of the soul. So that, although hell be the
opposite of the kingdom of heaven, yet each hath respect to the same end--the
salvation of men; the one alluring to itself, the other driving them towards
its opposite, and by the operation of fear correcting those who are carelessly
disposed.
5. I do not enlarge upon this subject without reason;
but because there are many who often, when famines, and droughts, and wars
take place, or when the wrath of an Emperor overtakes them, or when any
other unexpected events of this kind happen, deceive the simpler class
by saying, that these things are unworthy of the Providence of God.
I am therefore compelled to dwell on this part of
my discourse, that we may not be beguiled by words, but that we may plainly
perceive, that whether He brings upon us a famine, or a war, or any calamity,
whatsoever, He doth it out of His exceeding great care and kindness. For
even those fathers, who especially love their offspring, will forbid them
the table, and inflict stripes, and punish them by disgrace, and in endless
other ways of this kind correct their children when they are disorderly;
yet are they nevertheless fathers, not only while doing them honour, but
when acting thus; yea, they are pre-eminently fathers when they act thus.(3)
But if men, who are frequently carried away beyond what is meet by the
force of angry feelings, are yet held to punish those whom they love, not
from cruelty and inhumanity, but from a kind care and regard; much rather
is it proper to be thus minded concerning God; who in the exceeding abundance
of His goodness, far transcends every degree of paternal fondness. And
that you may not suppose that what I say is a mere conjecture, let us,
I pray you, direct our discourse to the Scripture itself. When man, then,
had been deceived and beguiled by the wicked demon, let us observe how
God treated him, after his committing so great a sin. Did He then altogether
destroy him? Yet the reason of the thing in justice demanded this, that
one who had displayed nothing that was good, but, after enjoying so much
favour, had waxed wanton even from the very first, should be made away
with, and utterly destroyed; yet God acted not so; neither did He regard
with disgust and aversion him who had been so ungrateful towards his Benefactor,
but He comes to him as a physician cometh to a sick man.
6. Do not, O beloved, pass over unthinkingly, what
has just been said! but consider what an act it was, not to send an angel,
or archangel, or any other of his fellow-servants, but that the Lord Himself
should have descended to him who had fallen from the right way, and should
have raised him when thus cast down; and should have approached him, One
to one,(4) as a friend comes to a friend when he is unfortunate, and is
plunged in great distress! For that He acted thus out of His great kindness,
the very words too which He spake to him evidently show His ineffable affection.
And why do I say, all the words? The first utterance signifies at once
His tenderness. For He said not, what it was probble a person treated so
contemptuously would say, "O wicked, yea most wicked man! When thou hadst
enjoyed so great favour from Me, and hadst been honoured with such a sovereignty,
being exalted above all the crea-
393
tures upon the earth for no merit of thine own; and having received
in actual deeds the pledges of My care, and a true manifestation of My
Providence, didst thou esteem a wicked and pestiferous demon, the enemy
of thy salvation, to be worthy of more credit than thy Lord and Benefactor?
What proof did he give of regard for thee, like that which I have done?
Did I not make for thee the heaven, the earth, the sea, the sun, the moon,
and all the stars? For truly none of the angels needed this work
of creation; but for thee, and for thy recreation, I made so great and
excellent a world; and didst thou esteem mere words alone, a false engagement,
and a promise full of deceit, as more worthy to be believed than the kindness
and providence that was manifested by deeds; that thou gavest thyself over
to him, and didst trample My laws under foot!" These words, and more of
this kind, one who had been treated contemptuously would probably say.
But God acted not so; but quite in the contrary manner. For by His first
word He at once raised him up from his dejection, and gave the fearful
and trembling man confidence, by being the first Himself to call him, or
rather, not by merely calling him first, but by addressing him by his own
familiar appellation, and saying, "Adam, where art thou?" Thus He shewed
His tenderness, and the great regard He had for him. For ye must all know,
that this is a mark of intimate friendship.(1) And thus those who call
upon the dead are wont to do, continually repeating their names. And so,
on the other hand, those who entertain hatred and enmity against any, cannot
bear to mention the very names of those who have aggrieved them. Saul,
for instance, though he had sustained no injury from David, but had wronged
him exceedingly, since he abhorred and hated him, could not endure to mention
his proper name; but when all were seated together, not seeing David to
be present, what said he? He said not, "Where is David? but, 'Where is
the son of Jesse?'"(2) calling him by his father's name. And again, the
Jews did the same with respect to Christ, for since they abhorred and hated
Him, they did not say, "Where is Christ?"(3) but, "Where is that man?"(4)
7. But God, willing to show even by this that sin
had not quenched His tenderness, nor disobedience taken away His favor
toward him, and that He still exercised His Providence and care for the
fallen one, said, "Adam, where art thou?"(5) not being ignorant of the
place where he was, but because the mouth of those who have sinned is closed
up; sin turning the tongue backward, and conscience taking hold of it;
so that such persons remain speechless, held fast in silence as by a kind
of chain. And God wishing therefore to invite him to freedom of utterance,
and to give him confidence, and to lead him to make an apology for his
offences, in order that he might obtain some forgiveness, was Himself the
first to call; cutting off much of Adam's distress by the familiar appellation,
and dispelling his fear, and opening by this address the mouth that was
shut. Hence also it was that he said, "Adam, where art thou?" "I left thee,"
saith he, "in one situation, and I find thee in another. I left thee in
confidence and glory; and I now find thee in disgrace and silence!" And
observe the care of God in this instance. He called not Eve;--He called
not the serpent,--but him who had sinned in the lightest degree of all,
he brings first to the tribunal, in order that beginning from him who was
able to find some degree of excuse, He might pass a more merciful sentence,
even against her who had sinned the most. And judges, indeed, do not deign
to make inquiry in their own person of their fellow-servants, and those
who are partakers of a common nature with them, but putting forward some
one of their attendants to intervene, they instruct him to convey their
own questions to the criminal; and through him they say and hear whatever
they wish, when they examine the offenders.(6) But God had no need of a
go-between in dealing with man; but Himself in His own person at once judges
and consoles him. And not only this is wonderful, but also that he corrects
the crimes that had been committed. For judges in general, when they find
thieves and grave-robbers,(7) do not consider how they may make them better,
but how they may make them pay the penalty of the offences committed. But
God, quite on the contrary, when He finds a sinner, considers not how He
may make him pay the penalty, but how He may amend him, and make him better,
and invincible(8) for the
394
future. So that God is at the same time a Judge, a Physician, and a
Teacher; for as a Judge He examines, and as a Physician He amends, and
as a Teacher He instructs those who have sinned, directing them unto all
spiritual wisdom.
8. But if one short and simple speech thus demonstrates
the care of God, what if we should read through this whole judgment, and
unfold its entire records? Seest thou how all Scripture is consolation
and comfort? But of these records we will speak at a befitting season;
before that, however, it is necessary to state at what time this Book was
given; for these things were not written in the beginning, nor at once
when Adam was made,(1) but many generations afterwards; and it were worth
while to enquire for what reason this delay took place, and why at length
they were given to the Jews only, and not to all men; and why written in
the Hebrew tongue; and why in the wilderness of Sinai? For the Apostle
doth not mention the place merely in a cursory manner; but shews that in
that circumstance too there was a great subject of contemplation for us,
when he saith to us: "For these are two covenants, the one from Mount Sinai,
which gendereth to bondage."(2)
9. Other things too besides these it were to our
purpose to enquire into. But I see that the time doth not permit us to
launch our discourse upon so wide a sea; wherefore prudently reserving
these to a fit season, we would again address you on the subject of abstinence
from oaths; and we would entreat your Charity to use much diligence respecting
this matter. For what is it but an absurdity, that not even a servant dares
to call his master by name, nor to mention him unceremoniously, and casually,
but that he should everywhere bandy about the name of the Lord of Angels
familiarly with much irreverence! And if it be necessary to take the book
of the Gospel, thou receivest it with hands that have been first washed;
and fearfully and tremblingly, with much reverence and devotion; and dost
thou unceremoniously bandy about upon thy tongue the Lord of the Gospel?
Dost thou desire to learn how the Powers above pronounce that Name; with
what awe, with what terror, with what wonder? "I saw the Lord," saith the
prophet, "sitting upon a throne, high, and lifted up; around Him stood
the Seraphim; and ones cried unto another, and said, Holy, Holy, Holy,
Lord God of Sabaoth; the whole earth is full of His glory!"(3) Perceivest
thou, with what dread, with what awe, they pronounce that Name, whilst
glorifying and praising Him? But thou, in thy prayers and supplications,
callest upon Him with much listlessness; when it would become thee to be
full of awe, and to be watchful and sober! But in oaths, where it is wholly
unsuitable that this wonderful Name should be introduced, there thou makest
a long string of divers forms of imprecation! What pardon then, or what
excuse shall we have, howsoever we may plead this "custom"? It is said,
that a certain heathen orator, by a kind of foolish habit, was continually
moving his right shoulder as he went along.(4) He conquered this habit,
however, by fastening sharp knives on each side over his shoulders, so
that the fear of being cut controlled the member in its unseasonable movement
by fear of the wound! Do thou too, then, act thus with regard to thy tongue,
and instead of the knife, suspend over it the fear of God's chastisement,
and thou wilt assuredly get the better! For it seems impossible, utterly
impossible, that those should ever be overcome, who are solicitous and
earnest about this, and really make it their business.
10. Ye applaud what is now said, but when ye have
amended, ye will applaud in a greater degree not only us, but also yourselves;
and ye will hear with more pleasure what is spoken; and ye will call upon
God with a pure conscience, who is so sparing of thee, O man! that He saith,
"Neither shall thou swear by s thy head."(6) But thou so despisest Him
as to swear even by His glory. "But what shall I do," saith one, "with
those who impose necessity on me?" What kind of necessity can there be,
O man? Let all men understand that thou wilt choose to suffer anything
rather than transgress the law of God; and they will abstain from compelling
thee. For as a proof that it is not an oath which rendereth a man worthy
of credit, but the testimony of his life, the uprightness of his conversation,
and his good reputation, many have often split their throats with swearing,
and yet have been able to convince no one; whereas others by a mere expression
of assent, have been esteemed more deserving
395
of belief than they who swore never so much. Knowing, therefore, all these things, and placing before our eyes the punishment that is in store for those who swear, as well as for those who swear falsely, let us abstain from this evil custom, that advancing from hence to the correction of what remains, we may enjoy the blessedness of the life to come, which God grant that we may all be found worthy to obtain, by the grace and love toward man of our Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom and with Whom to the Father with the Holy Ghost be glory, and power, and honour, now and ever, and world without end. Amen.
HOMILY VIII.
An exhortation to virtue--and particularly upon the passage, "God was
walking in Paradise in the cool of the day: "--and again on the subject
of abstaining from oaths.
YE have lately heard, how all Scripture bringeth
consolation and comfort, although it be an historical narrative. For instance,
"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth,"(1) was an historical
declaration; but it was shewn in our discourse, that this sentence was
one pregnant with comfort; as, for example, that God made us a twofold
table,(2) by spreading out the sea and the land at the same time; by kindling
above the twofold lights, the sun and moon; by determining the twofold
seasons of their course, the day and night, the one for labour, and the
other for rest. For the night ministers to us no less benefit than the
day. But as I said with reference to trees, those which are barren, rival
in their utility those which bear fruit; since we are thus not necessitated
to touch those trees which are pleasant for food, for the purposes of building.
The wild and untamed animals are also subservient to our need, in no less
a degree than the tame animals; by driving us together, through the fear
of them, into cities; making us more cautious, and binding us to one another;
and by exercising the strength of some, and freeing others from their sicknesses;
for the physicians concoct many medicines out of these;(3) and by reminding
us of our ancient sin. For when I hear it said, "The fear of you, and the
dread of you, shall be upon all the wild beasts of the earth:"(4) and then
observe, that this honour was afterwards curtailed, I am reminded of sin,
which hath dissipated the fear of us, and undermined our authority. Thus
I become a better and a wiser(5) man, whilst I learn the harm that sin
hath occasioned us. As then, what I said was, that the things alluded to,
and others of a similar kind, which God, who is the Maker, knoweth of,
contribute not a little to our present life; so now also I say, that the
night no less than the day brings along with it its advantage, being a
rest from labours, and a medicine for disease. Often, indeed, physicians,
though exerting themselves in many ways, and preparing an endless variety
of remedies, are not able to deliver the man who is labouring under infirmity.
But sleep coming upon him of its own accord hath entirely removed the disease,
and freed them(6) from an infinite deal of trouble. Night, again, is not
only a medicine for bodily labours, but also for mental diseases, in giving
rest to anguished souls. Ofttimes it happeneth that some one hath lost
a son;(7) and comforters without number have been of no avail to withdraw
him from tears and groans. But on the approach of night, conquered by the
despotic powers of sleep, he hath closed his eyelids in slumber, and received
some small relief from the miseries of the day time.
2. And now, I pray you, let us proceed to the subject
which hath given rise to these observations. For well I know, that ye are
all eagerly awaiting this matter; and that each one of you is in pain till
he learn on what account this Book was not given from the beginning. But
even now I do not see that the
396
time is fit for a discourse on this subject. And why so? Because the
week hath nearly arrived at its close with us, and I fear to touch upon
a subject, the exposition of which I should presently afterwards be obliged
to cut short. For the subject requires of us several days in succession,
and a continuous effort of memory: wherefore we must again defer it.(1)
But take it not amiss! we will assuredly pay you the debt with interest;
for thus it is expedient both for you, and for us who are to discharge
it. Meanwhile, however, let us now speak on that subject which we left
out yesterday. And what was it we left out yesterday? "God was walking,"
it says, "in Paradise in the cool of the day."(2) What is here meant, I
ask? "God was walking!" God was not walking; for how should He do this
who is everywhere present and filleth all things? But He caused a perception
of this sort in Adam, in order thai he might collect(3) himself; that he
might not be careless; that in flying and in hiding himself, he might present
beforehand some portion of the excuse, even before any words had passed.
For even as those who are about to be led to the tribunal, to sustain the
charges respecting the crimes they have committed present themselves before
those who are to try them with a squalid, begrimed, sad, and subdued visage,
in order that from their appearance, they may incline them to loving-kindness,
mercy, and forgiveness, so also did it happen in the case of Adam. For
it was necessary that he should be led to this Tribunal in a subdued state.
Therefore God took him beforehand, and humbled him. But that some one was
walking there, he perceived; but whence came he to suppose that God was
walking there? Such is the habitual custom of those who have committed
sin. They are suspicious of all things; they tremble at shadows; they are
in terror at every sound, and they imagine that every one is approaching
them in a hostile manner. Often therefore the guilty, when they observe
people running on another business, suppose that they are come against
them; and when others are conversing one with another on quite a different
subject, they that are conscious of
sin suppose they are conversing about them.
3. For such is the nature of sin, that it betrays
whilst no one finds fault; it condemns whilst no one accuses; it makes
the sinner a timid being; one that trembles at a sound; even as righteousness
has the contrary effect. Hear, at least, how the Scripture describes this
cowardice of the former, and this boldness of the latter. "The wicked flee
when no man pursueth."(4) How doth he flee when no man pursueth? He hath
that within which drives him on--an accuser in his conscience; and this
he carries about everywhere; and just as it would be impossible to flee
from himself, so neither can he escape the persecutor within; but wherever
he goeth,(5) he is scourged, and hath an incurable wound! But not such
is the righteous man. Of what nature then is he? Hear: "The righteous is
bold as a lion!" Such a man was Elias. He saw, for instance, the king coming
towards him, and when he said, "Why is it that thou pervertest Israel?"(6)
he answered, "I pervert not Israel, but thou and thy father's house."(7)
Truly, the just man is bold as a lion; for he stood up against the king
just as a lion doth against some vile cur. Although the one had the purple,
the other had the sheepskin, which was the more venerable garment of the
two; for that purple brought forth the grievous famine; but this sheepskin
effected a liberation from that calamity! It divided the Jordan! It made
Elisha a twofold(8) Elias! O how great is the virtue of the Saints! Not
only their words; not only their bodies, but even their very garments are
always esteemed venerable by the whole creation. The sheepskin of this
man divided the Jordan! the sandals of the Three Children trampled down
the fire! The word of Elisha changed the waters, so that it made them to
bear the iron on their surface! The rod of Moses divided the Red Sea and
cleft(9) the rock! The garments of Paul expelled diseases! The shadow of
Peter put death to flight! The ashes of the holy Martyrs(10) drive away
demons! For this reason they do all things with authority, even as Elias
did. For he looked not on the diadem, nor the outward pomp(11) of the king,
but he looked on the soul clad in rags, squalid, begrimed, and in a more
wretched condition than that of any criminal; and seeing him the captive
and slave of his passions, he despised his power. For he seemed to see
a king but in a scene,
397
and not a real one. For what was the advantage of outward abundance,
when the poverty within was so great? And what harm could outward poverty
do, when there was such a treasure of wealth within? Such a lion also was
the blessed Paul; for when he had entered into the prison, and only raised
his voice, he shook all the foundations; he gnawed in pieces(1) the fetters,
employing not his teeth, but words; on which account it were fitting to
call such men not merely lions, but something more than lions; for a lion
oft-times, after he hath fallen into a net, is taken; but the Saints when
they are bound, become still more powerful; just as this blessed man did
then in the prison, having loosed the prisoners, shaken the walls, and
bound the keeper, and overcome him by the word of godliness. The lion uttereth
his voice, and putteth all the wild beasts to flight. The Saint uttereth
his voice, and driveth away the demons on every side! The weapons of the
lion are a hairy mane, pointed claws, and sharp teeth. The weapons of the
righteous man are spiritual wisdom, temperance, patience, contempt of all
present things. Whoever hath these weapons shall not only be able to deride
wicked men, but even the adverse powers themselves.
4. Study then, O man, the life according to God,
and no one shall conquer thee at any time; and although thou mayest be
accounted the most insignificant of men, thou shall be more powerful than
all. On the other hand, if thou art indifferent about virtue of soul, though
thou wert the most powerful of men, thou wilt easily be worsted by all
that assail thee. And the examples already quoted proved this. But if thou
art desirous, I will also endearour to teach thee by actual facts(2) the
unconquerableness of the righteous, and the vulnerable condition of sinners.
Hear then how the prophet intimates both these particulars. "The ungodly,"
saith he, "are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind scattereth
away from the face of the earth."(3) For even as chaff lies exposed to
the gusts of wind, and is easily caught up and swept along, so is also
the sinner driven about by every temptation; for whilst he is at war with
himself, and bears the warfare about with him, what hope of safety does
he possess; betrayed as he is at home, and carrying with him that conscience,
which is a constant enemy? Such, however, is not the nature of the righteous
man. But what manner of man is he? Hear the same prophet, saying, "They
that trust in the Lord are as Mount Zion."(4) What means then, "As Mount
Zion?" "He shall not be shaken," saith he, "for ever." For whatever engines
thou bringest up, whatever darts thou hurlest, desiring to overturn a mountain,
thou wilt never be able to prevail; for how canst thou? thou wilt break
in pieces all thine engines, and exhaust thine own strength. Such also
is the righteous man. Whatever blows he may receive, he suffereth no evil
therefrom; but destroyeth the power of those who take counsel against him,
and not of men only, but of demons. Thou hast heard often what engines
the Devil brought up against Job; but not only did he fail to overthrow
that mountain, but drew back exhausted, his darts broken to pieces, and
his engines rendered useless, by that assault!
5. Knowing these things, let us take heed to our
life; and let us not be earnest as to the goods that perish; neither as
to the glory that goeth out; nor as to that body which groweth old; nor
as to that beauty which is fading; nor as to that pleasure which is fleeting;
but let us expend all our care about the soul; and let us provide for the
welfare of this in every way. For to cure the body, when diseased, is not
an easy matter to every one; but to cure a sick soul is easy to all; and
the sickness of the body requires medicines, as well as money, for its
healing; but the healing of the soul is a thing that is easy to procure,
and devoid of expense. And the nature of the flesh is with much labour
delivered from those wounds which are troublesome; for very often the knife
must be applied, and medicines that are bitter; but with respect to the
soul there is nothing of this kind. It suffices only to exercise the will,
and the desire, and all things are accomplished. And this hath been the
work of God's providence. For inasmuch as from bodily sickness no great
injury could arise, (for though we were not diseased, yet death would in
any case come, and destroy and dissolve the body); but everything depends
upon the health of our souls; this being by far the more precious and necessary,
He hath made the medicining of it easy, and void of expense or pain. What
excuse therefore, or what pardon shall we obtain, if when the body is sick,
and money must be expended on its behalf, and physicians called in, and
much anguish endured, we make this so much a matter of our care (though
what might result from that sickness could be no great
398
injury to us), and yet treat the soul with neglect? And this, when we
are neither called upon to pay down money; nor to give others any trouble;
nor to sustain any sufferings; but without any of all these things, by
only choosing and willing, have it in our power to accomplish the entire
amendment of it; and knowing assuredly that if we fail to do this, we shall
sustain the extreme sentence, and punishments, and penalties, which are
inexorable! For tell me, if any one promised to teach thee the healing
art in a short space of time, without money or labour, wouldest thou not
think him a benefactor? Wouldest thou not submit both to do and to suffer
all things, whatsoever he who promised these things commanded? Behold,
now, it is permitted thee without labour to find a medicine for wounds,
not of the body, but of the soul and to restore it to a state of health,
without any suffering! Let us not be indifferent to the matter l For pray
what is the pain of laying aside anger against one who hath aggrieved thee?
It is a pain, indeed, to remember injuries, and not to be reconciled! What
labour is it to pray, and to ask for a thousand good things from God, who
is ready to give? What labour is it, not to speak evil of any one? What
difficulty is there in being delivered from envy and ill-will? What trouble
is it to love one's neighbour? What suffering is it not to utter shameful
words, nor to revile, nor to insult another? What fatigue is it not to
swear? for again I return to this same admonition. The labour of swearing
is indeed exceedingly great. Oftentimes, whilst under the influence of
anger or wrath, we have sworn, perhaps, that we would never be reconciled
to those who have injured us. Yet afterwards, when our wrath was quenched,
and our anger allayed, desiring to be reconciled, and restrained by the
obligation of these oaths, we have suffered the same anguish, as if we
were in a snare, and held fast by indissoluble bonds. Of which fact the
Devil being aware, and understanding clearly that anger is a fire; that
it is easily extinguished, and that when it is extinguished, then reconciliation
and love follows; wishing this fire to remain unquenched, he often binds
us by an oath; so that although the anger should cease, the obligation
of the oath remaining may keep up the fire within us; and that one of these
two things may take place, either that being reconciled we are forsworn,
or that not being reconciled we subject ourselves to the penalties of cherishing
malice.
6. Knowing these things then, let us avoid oaths;
and let our mouth continually practise the saying, "Believe me;"(1) and
this will be to us a foundation for all pious behaviour;(2) for the tongue,
when it has been disciplined to use this one expression, is ashamed, and
would blush to utter words that are disgraceful and ugly; and should it
at any time be drawn away by habit, it will be checked again, by having
many accusers. For when any one observes him who is not a swearer giving
utterance to foul words, he will take his advantage over him, and ridicule,
and exclaim tauntingly, "Thou who sayest in all affairs, 'Believe me,'
and venturest not to utter an oath, dost thou disgrace thy tongue with
these shameful expressions?" So that being forcibly urged by those who
are with us, even if unwilling, we shall return again to a pious behaviour.
"But what," says one, "if it be necessary to take an oath?" Where there
is a transgression of the law, there is no such thing as necessity. "Is
it possible then," it is replied, "not to swear at all?" What sayest thou?
Hath God commanded, and darest thou to ask if it be possible for His law
to be kept? Why, truly it is a thing impossible that His law should not
be kept; and I am desirous to persuade you from present circumstances of
this; that so far from its being impossible not to swear, it is impossible
to swear? For behold, the inhabitants of the city were commanded to bring
in a payment of gold,(4) such as it might have seemed beyond the power
of many to do; yet the greater part of the sum has been collected; and
you may hear the tax gatherers saying, "Why delay, man? Why put us off
from day to day? It is not possible to avoid it. It is the law of the Emperor,
which admits of no delay." What sayest thou, I ask? The Emperor hath commanded
thee to bring in thy money, and it is impossible not to bring it in! God
hath commanded thee to avoid oaths! and how sayest thou, it is impossible
to avoid them!
7. I am now for the sixth day admonishing you in
respect of this precept. Henceforth, I am desirous to take leave(5) of
you, meaning to abstain from the subject, that ye may be on your guard.
There will no longer be any excuse or allowance for you; for of right,
indeed, if nothing had been said on this matter, it ought to have been
amended of yourselves, for it is not a thing of an intricate
399
nature, or that requires great preparation, But since ye have enjoyed the advantage of so much admonition and counsel, what excuse will ye have to offer, when ye stand accused before that dread tribunal, and are required to give account of this transgression. It is impossible to invent any excuse; but of necessity you must either go hence amended, or, if you have not amended, be punished, and abide the extremest penalty! Thinking, therefore, upon all these things, and departing hence with much anxiety about them, exhort ye one another, that the things spoken of during so many days may be kept with all watchfulness in your minds, so that whilst we are silent, ye instructing, edifying, exhorting one another, may exhibit great improvement; and having fulfilled all the other precepts, may enjoy eternal crowns; which God grant we may all obtain, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom and with whom be glory, to the Father, together with the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY IX.
Commendation of those who had laid aside the practice of swearing. It
is shown that no one need scruple about hearing the divine oracles in the
Church after a meal. Answer to the question, Why it was so long before
the Holy Scriptures were given? Comment on the passage, "The heavens declare
the glory of God," with a description of the natural world. And finally,
an admonition against swearing.
1. IT was but lately that I spoke to you as I do
now to you again! And O that I could be always with you,--yea, rather am
I always with you, though not by bodily presence, yet by the power of love!
For I have no other life but(1) you, and the care of your salvation. As
the husbandman hath no other anxiety, but about his seeds and his harvests;
and the pilot about the waves and the harbours; so the preacher is anxious
with respect to his auditors and their progress, even as I am at the present
time! Wherefore I bear you all upon my mind, not only here, but also at
home. For if the multitude be great, and the measure of my heart be narrow,
yet love is wide; and "ye are not straitened in us." I will not add what
follows next,(2) for neither are we straitened with you. Whence is this
apparent? Because I have met with many who have said, "We have performed
the precept, by making rules for each other, defining penalties for those
who swear, and enforcing punishment upon those who transgress this law."
A punishment which is indeed well becoming you,(3) and which is a sign
of the greatest charity. For I am not ashamed of making myself busy in
these matters, since this love of interference does not proceed from idle
curiosity but from tender care.(4) For if it be no reproach to the physician
to make enquiry concerning the patient, neither is it any fault in us to
be ever asking about your salvation; since thus being informed what has
been accomplished, and what has been left undone, we shall be able to apply
the further remedies with the requisite knowledge.(5) These things we have
ascertained by enquiry; and we give thanks to God that we have not sown
our seed upon rocks, nor dropped it amidst thorns; and that we have neither
needed much time, nor long delay, in order that we might reap the harvest.
On this account I have you continually upon my heart. On this account I
do not feel the labours of teaching, being eased of the burden by the profit
of the hearer. This reward is, indeed, sufficient to recruit our strength,
to give us wings, to elevate us, and to persuade us to undergo the utmost
toil on your behalf.
2. Since therefore ye have manifested much generosity
of feeling, suffer us to discharge the further debt of which we gave a
promise the other day; although indeed I see not all present(6) who were
here when I made the
400
promise. What, I would ask, can be the cause of this? What hath repelled
them from our table? He that hath partaken of a bodily meal, it would seem,
has thought it an indignity after receiving material food, to come to the
hearing of the divine oracles. But not rightly do they think thus. For
if this were improper, Christ would not have gone through His large and
long discourses after that mystic supper; and if this had been unsuitable,
He would not, when He had fed the multitude in the desert, have communicated
His discourses to them after that meal. For (if one must say something
startling on this point), the hearing of the divine oracles at that time
is especially profitable. For when thou hast made up thy mind that after
eating and drinking thou must repair also to the assembly, thou wilt assuredly
be careful, though perchance with reluctance, of the duty of sobriety;
and wilt neither be led away at any time into excess of wine, or gluttony.
For the thought, and the expectation of entering the church, schools thee
to partake of food and drink with becoming decency; lest, after thou hast
entered there, and joined thy brethren, thou shouldest appear ridiculous
to all present, by smelling of wine, and unmannerly eructation.(1) These
things I now speak not to you who are now present, but to the absent; that
they may learn them through your means. For it is not having eaten that
hinders one's hearing, but listlessness. But thou whilst deeming it to
be a condemnation not to fast, then addest another fault, which is far
greater and heavier, in not being a partaker of this sacred food;(2) and
having nourished the body, thou consumest the soul with famine. Yet what
kind of apology hast thou for doing this? For in the matter of fasting
thou hast, perhaps, bodily weakness to plead, but what hast thou to say
with respect to hearing? For surely weakness of body is no impediment to
thy partaking of the divine oracles! If I had said, "Let no one who has
breakfasted(3) mix with us;" "let no one who has eaten be a hearer," thou
wouldest have had some kind of excuse; but now, when we would fain drag,
entice, and beseech you to come, what apology can ye have for turning away
from us? The unfit hearer is not he that hath eaten and drunk; but he who
gives no heed to what is said, who yawns, and is slack in attention, having
his body here, but his mind wandering elsewhere, and such a one, though
he may be fasting, is an unprofitable hearer. On the other hand, the man
who is in earnest, who is watchful and keeps his mind in a state of attention,
though he may have eaten and drunk, will be our most suitable hearer of
all. For this rule, indeed, very properly prevails with relation to the
secular tribunals and councils. Inasmuch as they know not how to be spiritually
wise, therefore they eat not to nourishment, but to bursting; and they
drink often to excess. For Ibis reason, as they render themselves unfit
for the management of their affairs, they shut up the court-houses and
council-chambers in the evening and at midday.(4) But here there is nothing
of this sort,--God forbid! But he who has eaten will rival him who fasts,
as far as regards sobriety of soul; for he eats and drinks, not so as to
distend the stomach, or to darken the reason, but in such a way as to recruit
the strength of the body when it has become weakened.
3. But enough of this admonition. It is time now
to deal with our subject; although our mind holds back and shrinks from
giving this instruction, on account of those who are not come. And just
as an affectionate mother when she is about to spread out her table, grieves
and laments when all her children are not there, thus also do I now suffer;
and when I think of the absence of our brethren, I am reluctant to discharge
my debt. But ye have it in your power to rid me of this tardiness. For
if ye promise me that ye will convey to them an exact report of all I say,
we shall readily pay you down the whole;(5) for thus the instructions,
charitably afforded on your part, will make up to them for their absence;
and ye will hear me the more attentively, knowing that you must necessarily
give an account of these things to others. In order then that our subject
may be made the clearer, let us take it up and repeat it from the beginning.
We were enquiring, then, the other day, "On what account the Scriptures
were delivered after so many years. For this Book was delivered neither
in the time of Adam, nor of Noah, nor of Abraham, but in that of Moses.
And I hear many who say, that if the Book was profitable, it ought to
401
have been delivered from the very beginning; but if it was useless,
it ought not to have been delivered afterwards. But this is an obsolete
argument; for it is not quite true that anything which is profitable ought
to have been delivered from the beginning, nor if anything was delivered
from the beginning, is it quite necessary that the same should continue
afterwards.(1) For example; Milk is useful, yet it is not always given;
but it is given to us only when we are children; and solid food is useful;
but no one ever gives it us in the beginning of our life, but when we have
passed out of the age of childhood. Again, the summer season is useful;
but it does not show itself constantly; and the winter season is advantageous;
yet this too makes room for others. What then? Do they say that the Scriptures
are not useful? I reply; they are most useful and most necessary. And if
so useful, for what reason then, say they, were they not delivered to us
from the beginning? It was because God was desirous of instructing the
nature of man, not by letters, but by things.(2) But what does the expression
"by things" signify? By means of the Creation itself.
4. Observe then, how the Apostle, alighting upon
this same topic, and directing himself to those very Greeks who said, that
they had not from the beginning learnt the knowledge of God from the Scriptures,
frames his answer. Having said that, "the wrath of God is revealed from
heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the
truth in unrighteousness;"(3) when he saw that he was met by an objection;
and that many would still enquire, from whence the Gentiles knew the truth
of God, he goes on to add, "Because that which may be known of God is manifest
in them." But how is it manifest in them? How were they able to know God,
and who hath shewed? Declare this. "God," saith he, "hath shewed it unto
them." In what manner? By the sending of what kind of prophet? what evangelist?
what kind of teacher? if the holy Scriptures were not yet given. "The invisible
things of Him," says he, "from the creation of the world are clearly seen,
being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal Power and
Godhead."(4) But what he means is just this, He hath placed His Creation
in the midst, before the eyes of all men; in order that they may guess
at the Creator from His works; which, indeed, another writer has referred
to; "For from the greatness and beauty of the creatures, proportionably
the Maker of them is seen."(5) Seest thou the greatness? Marvel at the
power of Him that made it! Seest thou the beauty? be astonished at the
wisdom which adorned it! This it was which the prophet signified when he
said, "The heavens declare the glory of God."(6) How then, tell me, do
they declare it? Voice they have none; mouth they possess not; no tongue
is theirs! how then do they declare? By means of the spectacle itself.
For when thou seest the beauty, the breadth, the height, the position,
the form, the stability thereof during so long a period; hearing as it
were a voice, and being instructed by the spectacle, thou adorest Him who
created a body so fair and strange! The heavens may be silent, but the
sight of them emits a voice, that is louder than a trumpet's sound; instructing
us not by the ear, but through the medium of the eyes; for the latter is
a sense which is more sure and more distinct than the former.
5. For if God had given instruction by means of
books, and of letters, he who knew letters would have learnt what was written;
but the illiterate man would have gone away without receiving any benefit
from this source, unless some one else had introduced him to it; and the
wealthy man would have purchased the Bible, but the poor man would not
have been able to obtain it. Again, he who knew the language that was expressed
by the letters, might have known what was therein contained; but the Scythian,
and the Barbarian, and the Indian, and the Egyptian, and all those who
were excluded from that language, would have gone away without receiving
any instruction. This however cannot be said with respect to the heavens;
but the Scythian, and Barbarian, and Indian, and Egyptian, and every man
that walks upon the earth, shall hear this voice; for not by means of the
ears, but through the sight, it reaches our understanding. And of the things
that are seen, there is one uniform perception; and there is no difference,
as is the case with respect to languages. Upon this volume the unlearned,
as well as the wise man, shall be alike able to look; the poor man as well
as the rich man; and wherever any one may chance to come, there looking
upwards towards the heavens, he will receive a sufficient lesson from the
view of them: and the
402
prophet himself intimated and indicated this fact, that the creation
utters this voice so as to be intelligible to barbarians, and to Greeks,
and to all mankind without exception, when he spoke on this wise; "There
is no speech, nor language, where there voice is not heard."(1) What he
means is to this effect, that there is no nation or tongue which is unable
to understand this language; but that such is their utterance, that it
may be heard of all mankind. And that not merely of the heavens, but of
the day and night. But how of the day and night? The heavens, indeed, by
their beauty and magnitude, and by all the rest, astonish the beholder,
and transport him to an admiration of the Creator; but as to the day and
night, what can these show us of the same kind? Nothing certainly of the
same kind, but other things which are not inferior to them; as for example;
the harmony, and the order which they so accurately observe. For when thou
considerest how they distribute between them the whole year, and mutually
divide the length of the whole space, even as if it were by a beam and
scales, thou wilt be astonished at Him who hath ordered them! For just
as certain sisters dividing their father's inheritance among themselves
with much affection, and not insulting one another in the smallest degree,
even so too the day and the night distribute the year with such an equality
of parts, with the utmost accuracy;(2) and keep to their own boundaries,
and never push one, another aside. Never hath the day been long in winter;
and in like manner never hath the night been long in summer, whilst so
many generations have passed away; but during so great an interval and
length of time one hath not defrauded the other even in the smallest degree;
not of half an hour's space, no, nor of the twinkling of an eye!
6. Therefore also the Psalmist,(3) struck with astonishment
at the equality of this distribution, exclaimed. "Night unto night sheweth
knowledge." If thou knowest how to meditate wisely on these matters, thou
wilt admire the Being who fixed these immoveable boundaries even from the
beginning. Let the avaricious hear these things; and those who are coveting
the wealth of others; and let them imitate the equality of the day and
night. Let those who are puffed up and high-minded also hear; and those
who are unwilling to concede the first places to others! The day gives
place to the night, and does not invade the territory of others! But thou,
whilst always enjoying honour, canst thou not bear to share it with thy
brethren? Consider also with me the wisdom of the Lawgiver. In winter He
hath ordered that the night should be long; when the germs(4) are tender,
and require more coolness; and are unable to sustain the hotter rays of
the sun; but when they are somewhat grown, the day again increases with
them, and becomes then the longest, when the fruit has now attained ripeness.
And this is a beneficial arrangement not only for seeds, but for our bodies.
For since during winter, the sailor, and the pilot, and the traveller,
and the soldier, and the farmer, sit down for the most part at home, fettered
by the frost; and the season is one of idleness; God hath appointed that
the greater part of this time should be consumed in night, in order that
the length of the day might not be superfluous, when men were unable to
do anything. Who can describe the perfect order of the seasons; and how
these, like some virgins dancing in a circle, succeed one another with
the happiest harmony; and how those who are in the middle cease not to
pass over to the opposite ones with a gradual and noiseless transition?
Therefore, neither are we overtaken by the summer immediately after winter;
nor by the winter immediately after the summer; but mid-way the spring
is interposed; that while we gently and gradually take up one season after
the other, we may have our bodies hardened to encounter the summer heat
without uneasiness. For since sudden changes to opposite extremes are productive
of the worst injury and disease, God hath contrived that after winter we
should take up the spring, and after the spring the summer; and after the
summer the autumn; and thus transport us to winter, so that these changes
from seasons which are opposite, should come upon us harmlessly and by
degrees, through the aid of intermediate ones. Who then is so wretched
and pitiable, that beholding the heavens; and beholding sea, and land;
and beholding this exact adjustment of the seasons, and the unfailing order
of day and night, he can think that these things happen of their own accord,
instead of adoring Him who hath arranged them all with a corresponding
wisdom!
7. But I have yet somewhat more to say on this head.
For not only, indeed, does the magnitude and beauty of the creation, but
403
also the very manner of it, display a God who is the artificer of the
universe. For since we were not present at the beginning, whilst he was
engaged in the work of forming and creating all things; nor had we been
present, could we have known how they came into being,(1) the power that
disposed them being invisible; He hath made the mode of this creation to
become our best teacher, by compounding all things in a manner which transcends
the course of nature. Perhaps what I have said, is not sufficiently clear.
Therefore it is necessary that I should again repeat it in a clearer manner.
All men, then, must admit that it is the coarse of nature for water to
be supported on the earth, and not the earth on the waters. For the earth
being a certain dense, hard, unyielding, and solid substance, is easily
able to support the nature of water; but the water, which is fluid, and
rare, and soft, and diffusive, and giving way to all it meets with, must
be unable to support any solid body, though it were of the lightest kind.
Often indeed when a small pebble fails upon it, it yields, and makes way,
and sends it down to the bottom. When therefore thou beholdest not a small
pebble, but the whole earth borne upon the waters, and not submerged, admire
the power of Him who wrought these marvellous things in a supernatural
manner! And whence does this appear, that the earth is borne upon the waters?
The prophet declares this when he says, "He hath rounded it upon the seas,
and prepared it upon the floods."(2) And again: "To him who hath founded
the earth upon the waters."(3) What sayest thou? The water is not able
to support a small pebble on its surface, and yet bears up the earth, great
as it is; and mountains, and hills, and cities, and plants, and men, and
brutes; and it is not submerged! What do I say? Is not submerged? How comes
it to pass, that since the water has been in close contact with it below,
during so long a period, it has not been dissolved, and the whole of it
become mud? For the substance of wood, when soaked in water but a little
time, is rotted and dissolved; and why do I say of wood? What can be firmer
than iron? yet often this is softened, when it remains a long time in water;
and well it may. For it derives its substance from the earth. Therefore
many run-away servants, when they make their escape, dragging their shackles
and chains along with them, go to brooks of water, and thrust their shackled
feet therein, and after making the iron softer by this means, they easily
break it by striking it with a stone. Iron, forsooth, is softened, and
wood is rotted, and stones are worn away by the nature of water; yet so
great a mass as the earth hath remained such a length of time lying upon
the waters, without being either submerged, or dissolved, and destroyed!(4)
8. And who is there that must not feel astonished
and amazed at these things; and confidently pronounce that they are not
the works of nature, but of that Providence which is above nature? Therefore
one speaks thus: "Who hangeth the earth upon nothing."(5) And another observes,
"In His hands are the corners of the earth."(6) And again: "He hath laid
the foundation of it upon the seas."(7) And these declarations, though
they seem contrary to one another, have yet an entire agreement. For he
that said, "He hath laid the foundation of it upon the seas," meant the
same thing as he did who declared, "He hath hung it upon nothing." For
its standing upon the waters is just the same thing as hanging upon nothing.
Where then is it suspended and placed? Hear the same one saying, "In His
hands are the corners of the earth." Not that God hath hands, but that
thou mayest know that His power it is, providing for all things which holds
together(8) and supports the body of the earth! But if thou believest not
what I now say, believe what thou beholdest! for even in another element
it is possible to find this admirable workmanship. For it is the nature
of fire to tend upwards,(9) and to be always mounting aloft; and although
you force and constrain it never so much, it cannot submit to have its
course directed downwards. For often, when we are carrying a lighted torch,
although we incline its head downwards, we cannot compel the force of the
flame to direct
404
itself to the ground; but still it turns upward, and passes from below
toward that which is above. But with respect to the sun, God hath made
it quite the contrary. For He hath turned his beams toward the earth, and
made his light to direct itself downward, all but saying to him by the
very shape (of the heavens), "Look downward.--Shine upon men, for thou
wert made for them!" The light, indeed, of a candle cannot be made to submit
to this; but this star, great and marvellous as it is, bends downward,
and looks toward the earth, which is contrary to the nature of fire; owing
to the power of Him who hath commanded it. Wouldest thou have me speak
of another thing of the like kind?Waters embrace the back of the visible
heaven(1) on all parts; and yet they neither flow down, nor are moved out
of their place, although the nature of water is not of this kind. For it
easily runs together into what is concave; but when the body is of a convex
form, it glides away on all sides; and not even a small portion(2) is capable
of standing upon such a figure.(3) But, lo! this wonder is found to exist
in the heavens; and the prophet, again, to intimate this very circumstance,
observes, "Praise the Lord, ye waters that are above the heavens."(4) Besides,
the water hath not quenched the sun; nor hath the sun, which hath gone
on his way beneath for so long a time, dried up the water that lies above.
9. Dost thou desire that we should lead thee down
again to the earth, and point out the marvel? Seest thou not this sea abounding
with waves, and fierce winds; yet this sea, spacious, and large, and furious
as it is, is walled in with a feeble sand! Mark also the wisdom of God,
He permitted it not to be at rest, nor tranquil, lest thou shouldest suppose
its good order to be of mere natural regulation; but remaining within its
limits, it lifts up its voice, and is in tumult, and roars aloud, and raises
its waves to a prodigious height. But when it comes to the shores, and
beholds the sand, it breaks up, and returns back again within itself; teaching
thee, by both these things, that it is not the work of nature that it remains
within its boundaries, but the work of Him whose power restrains it! For
this cause accordingly He hath made the wall feeble; and hath not encompassed
these shores with wood, or stone, or mountains, lest thou shouldest impute
the regulation of the elements to such things. And, therefore, God Himself,
upbraiding the Jews with this very circumstance, said, "Fear ye not Me,
which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea that it cannot pass
it."(5) But the marvellous thing is not this only, that He hath made
a great and admirable world; and that He hath compacted it in a way above
the usual course of nature; but that He hath also constituted it out of
opposite things; such as hot and cold, dry and moist, fire and water, earth
and air, and that these contrary elements, of which this whole universe
consists, though continually at strife one with another, are not consumed
of one another. The fire hath not overrun and burnt up all things; the
water hath not overflowed and drowned the whole earth. With respect to
our bodies, however, these effects really take place; and upon the increase
of the bile, fever is generated; and the whole animal frame sustains an
injury; and when there is a superabundance of phlegm, many diseases are
produced which destroy the animal. But in the case of the universe, nothing
of this kind happens; but each thing remains held as it were by a kind
of bridle and band; preserving, by the will of the Creator, its own boundaries;
and their strife becomes a source of peace to the whole. Are not these
things evident even to a blind man? and are not even the simple easily
able to comprehend, that they were made, and are upheld, by some Providence?
For who is so silly and senseless, that beholding such a mass of substances,
such beauty, such combination, the continual strife of such vast elements,
their opposition, and yet durability, would not reason with himself and
say, "If there were not some Providence to uphold the mass of these bodies,
not permitting the universe to fall to pieces, it could not remain; it
could not have been lasting. So perfect is the order of the seasons, such
the harmony of the day and night, so many the kinds of brute animals, and
plants, and seeds, and herbs, that preserve their course, and yet, to the
present day, none has ever fallen into decay or sudden dissolution.
10. We might continue to speak not only of these
things, but also of many others, which are even more profound; and might
moralise even upon the Creation itself; but
405
reserving these subjects for the morrow,(1) let us earnestly endeavour
to retain what has been said, and to convey it to the rest.(2) I know indeed,
that the abstruseness of these speculations has seemed strange to your
ears; but if we be a little vigilant, and accustom ourselves to them, we
shall easily be able to teach others. Meanwhile, it is necessary farther
to say this to your Charity. Even as God hath given us glory by means of
this great creation, so let us also glorify Him by, a pure conversation!
"The heavens declare the glory of God," though only seen; and we therefore
should declare God's glory(3) not only in speaking, but in silence, and
in astonishing all men by the brightness of our life. For He saith, "Let
your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and
glorify your Father which is in heaven."(4) For when an unbeliever beholds
thee, who art a believer, subdued, modest, and orderly in manners, he will
wonder and say, "Truly great is the God of the Christians! What manner
of men hath He formed? What, and from what hath He made them? Hath He turned
them from men into angels? If any one treats them contemptuously, they
revile not! If any one beats them, they are not enraged! If any one does
them an injury, they pray for him who has put them in pain! They have no
enemy! They know nothing of cherishing malice! They are guiltless of vain
babbling! They have not learnt to utter a falsehood! They cannot endure
a false oath, or rather, they swear not at all, but would prefer to have
their tongue cut out, rather than to let an oath proceed out of their mouth!"
Such are the things which we should give them cause to say of us; and we
should exterminate our evil habit of oaths, and pay at least as much honour
to God, as we do to our more valuable garments. For how truly absurd is
it, that when we have one garment better than the rest, we do not suffer
ourselves to be continually wearing it; and yet everywhere we draggle about
the name of God without concern, or ceremony! Let us not, I earnestly pray
and beseech you, let us not thus despise our own salvation; but the care
which we have used respecting this precept from the beginning, let us carry
on even to the end. For I thus continually exhort you on the subject of
oaths, not as though condemning you of listlessness, but inasmuch as I
have seen that ye are for the most part reformed, I press you, and am urgent,
that the whole work should be finished off, and come to its perfection.
Even so act the spectators of public games. They excite those who are near
the prize, with the more vehemence. Let us, then, by no means become weary;
for we have nearly reached the completion of this amendment; and
the difficulty was at the beginning. But nosy that the greater part of
the evil habit has been cut away, and less remains to correct, no labour
is necessary, but we only need a moderate degree of watchfulness, and diligence
for some short time, in order that we ourselves being amended, may also
become instructors to others; and that we may behold the Holy Passover
with much confidence, and that with much pleasure we may reap a double
or treble measure of the customary gladness of the festival. For not so
much does it delight us to be delivered from the toil and fatigue of fasting,
as to meet that holy season with an illustrious and well-earned crown;
a crown indeed that is never to fade !
11. But in order that the amendment may take place
the more quickly, do this which I tell thee. Inscribe upon the wall of
thy house, and upon the wall of thy heart, that "flying sickle;"(5) and
think that it is flying forth on occasion of the curse, and constantly
remember it. And if thou observest another person swearing, restrain, forbid,
and be careful for him, and be careful for thine own domestics. For if
we would look to this, that we might not merely correct ourselves, but
also bring others to the same point, we shall ourselves quickly arrive
at the goal; since while we undertake to instruct others, we shall be ashamed
and blush, should we in our own case seem to leave those things unperformed,
which we enjoin upon them. There is no need to say more; for much has been
already spoken on these matters; and these things are now said only by
way of remembrance. But may God, who is more sparing of our souls than
we are, make us perfect in this, and every good work; that so having completed
the whole fruit of righteousness, we may be found worthy of the kingdom
of heaven, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ,
through Whom, and with Whom, to the Father, with the Holy Ghost, be glory,
for ever and ever. Amen.
406
HOMILY X.
Commendation of those who came to hear after taking a meal.--Observations
on the physiology of the natural world; and against those who deify the
creation; and on the duty of not swearing.
1. I Joy, and rejoice with you all, that ye have
actually put in practice that admonition of ours, which we lately made
with respect to those who were absent, for the reason that they were not
fasting. For I think that many of those who have dined(1) are to-day present;
and go to fill up this goodly assemblage; and that this is the fact, I
conjecture from the more brilliant spectacle that I see around me, and
the greater concourse of hearers. Not in vain, it seems, did I lately(2)
spend so many words on their account, appealing to your Charity, to draw
them to their Mother;(3) and to persuade them that it is lawful, even after
bodily nourishment, to partake also of that which is spiritual. And in
which case, beloved, I ask, did ye act for the better; at the time of the
last assembly when after your meal ye turned to your slumbers; or now,
when after the meal ye have presented yourselves at the hearing of the
divine laws? Was it best when ye loitered about in the forum, and took
part in meetings which were no wise profitable; or now, when ye stand with
your own brethren, and hear the prophetic oracles? It is no disgrace, beloved,
to have eaten, but after eating to remain at home, and so to be deprived
of this sacred banquet. For whilst thou remainest at home, thou wilt be
more slothful and supine; but coming here thou wilt shake off all slumber
and listlessness; and laying aside not only listlessness,(4) but also all
sadness, thou wilt be more at ease, and in better heart in all the events
that may happen.
2. What need then is there to say more? Stand only
nigh the man who fasts, and thou wilt straightway partake of his good odour;
for fasting is a spiritual perfume; and through the eyes, the tongue, and
every part, it manifests the good disposition of the soul. I have said
this, not for the purpose of condemning those who have dined, but that
I may shew the advantage of fasting. I do not, however, call mere abstinence
from meats, fasting; but even before this, abstinence from sin; since he
who, after he has taken a meal, has come hither with suitable sobriety,
is not very far behind the man who fasts; even as he who continues fasting,
if he does not give earnest and diligent heed to what is spoken, will derive
no great benefit from his fast. He who eats, and yet takes a part in the
sacred assembly with suitable earnestness, is in much better case than
he who eats not at all, and remains absent. This abstinence will by no
means be able to benefit us as much as the participation in spiritual instruction
conveyeth to us benefit and advantage. Where indeed, besides, wilt thou
hear the things upon which thou meditatest here? Wert thou to go to the
bench of justice? quarrels and contentions are there! or into the council-chamber?
there is anxious thought about political matters! or to thine home? solicitude
on the, subject of thy private affairs afflicts thee in every direction!
or wert thou to go to the conferences and debates of the forum? every thing
there is earthly and corruptible! For all the words that pass among those
assembled there, are concerning merchandize, or taxes, or the sumptuous
table, or the sale of lands, or other contracts, or wills, or inheritances,
or some other things of that kind. And shouldest thou enter even into the
royal halls, there again thou wouldest hear in the same way all discoursing
of wealth, or power, or of the glory which is held in honour here, but
of nothing that is spiritual. But here on the contrary everything relates
to heaven, and heavenly things; to our soul, to our life, the purpose for
which we were born, and why We spend an allotted time upon earth, and on
what terms we migrate from hence, and into what condition we shall enter
after these things, and why our body is of clay, what also is the nature
of death, what, in short, the present life is, and what the future. The
discourses that are here made by us contain nothing at all of an earthly
kind, but are all in reference to spiritual things. Thus, then, it is that
we shah have made great provision for our salvation, and shall depart hence
with a good hope.
3. Since, therefore, we did not scatter the seed
in vain, but ye hunted out all who were
407
absent, as I exhorted you; suffer us now to return you a recompense;
and having reminded you of a few things that were said before, to repay
you again what remains. What then were those matters that were before treated
of? We were enquiring how, and in what manner, before the giving of the
Scriptures, God ordered His dispensation toward us; and we said, that by
means of the creation He instructed our race, stretching out the heavens,
and there openly unfolding a vast volume, useful alike to the simple and
the wise, to the poor and to the rich, to Scythians and to barbarians,
and to all in general who dwell upon the earth; a volume which is much
larger than the multitude of those instructed by it. We discoursed also
at length concerning the night, and the day, and the order of these, as
well as of the harmony which is strictly preserved by them; and much was
said respecting the measured dance of the seasons of the year, and of their
equality. For just as the day defraudeth not the night even of half an
hour throughout the whole year, so also do these distribute all the days
among themselves equally. But, as I said before, not only does the greatness
and beauty of the creation shew forth the Divine Architect, but the very
manner likewise in which it is compacted together, and the method of operation,
transcending as it does, the ordinary course of nature. For it would have
been in accordance with nature for water to be borne upon the earth; but
now we see, on the contrary, that the earth is supported by the waters.
It would have been in accordance with nature that fire should tend upwards;
but now on the contrary we see the beams of the sun directed towards the
earth; and the waters to be above the heavens, yet not falling away;(1)
and the sun running below them, yet not quenched by the waters, nor dispelling
their moisture. Besides these things we said that this whole universe consists
of four elements, these being adverse to and at strife with one another;
yet one does not consume the other, although they are mutually destructive.
Whence it is evident that some invisible power bridles them, and the will
of God becomes their bond.
4. To-day, I wish to dwell a little more on this
subject. Arouse yourselves, however, and give earnest heed unto us! And
that the wonder may appear more clearly, I will draw the lesson concerning
these things from our own bodies. This body of ours, so short, and small,
consists of four elements; viz. of what is warm, that is, of blood; of
what is dry, that is, of yellow bile; of what is moist, that is, of phlegm;
of what is cold, that is, of black bile. And let no one think this subject
foreign to that which we have in hand. "For He that is spiritual judgeth
all things; yet He Himself is judged of no man."(2) Thus also Paul touched
upon principles of agriculture, whilst discoursing to us of the Resurrection;
and said, "Thou fool; that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it
die."(3) But if that blessed man brought forward questions of agriculture,
neither should any one blame us if we handle matters pertaining to medical
science. For our discourse is now respecting the Creation of God; and this
ground-work of ideas will be necessary for our purpose. As, therefore,
I said before, this body of ours consists of four elements; and if either
revolts against the whole, death is the result of this revolt. As for instance,
by a superabundance "of bile" fever is produced; and should this proceed
beyond a certain measure, it effects a rapid dissolution. Again, when there
is an excess of the cold element, paralyses, agues, apoplexies, and an
infinite number of other maladies are generated. And every form of disease
is the effect of an excess of these elements; when either of them overpassing
its own bounds, acts the part of a tyrant against the rest, and mars the
symmetry of the whole. Interrogate then him who says, that all things are
spontaneous and self-produced. If this little and diminutive body, having
the advantage of medicines, and of medical skill, and of a soul within
which regulates it, and of much moral wisdom, as well as innumerable other
helps, be not always able to continue in a state of order, but often perishes,
and is destroyed, when some disturbance takes place within it; how could
a world like this, containing substances of such vast bulk and compounded
of those same elements, remain during so long a time without any disturbance,
unless it enjoyed the advantage of a manifold providence? Neither would
it be reasonable to suppose that this body, which has the benefit of superintendence
both without and within, should scarcely be sufficient for its own preservation;
and that a world such as this is, enjoying no such superintendence, should
during so many years suffer nothing of that sort which our body suffers.
For how, I ask, is it that not one of these elements hath gone beyond its
own boundaries, nor swallowed up all the rest? Who hath brought them together
from the beginning? Who hath bound? Who hath bridled? Who
408
hath held them together during so long a period? For if the body of
the world were simple and uniform, what I speak of would not have been
so impossible. But when there hath been such a strife between the elements,
even from the beginning; who so senseless as to think that these things
would have come together, and remained together when united, without One
to effect this conjunction? For if we who are evil-affected towards one
another not by nature, but by will, cannot come spontaneously to an agreement
as long as we remain at variance, and hold ourselves ungraciously towards
one another; if we have yet need of some one else to bring us into a state
of conjunction; and after this conjunction further to clench us, and persuade
us to abide by our reconciliation, and not again to be at variance; how
could the elements, which neither partake of sense nor reason, and which
are naturally adverse, and inimical to each other, have come together,
and agreed and remained with one another, if there were not some ineffable
Power which effected this conjunction; and after this conjunction, always
restrained them by the same bond?
5. Dost thou not perceive how this body wastes away,
withers, and perishes after the secession of the soul, and each of the
elements thereof returns to its own appointed place? (1) This very same
thing, indeed, would also happen to the world, if the Power which always
governs it had left it devoid of Its own providence. For if a ship does
not hold together without a pilot, but soon founders, how could the world
have held together so long a time if there was no one governing its, course?
And that I may not enlarge, suppose the world to be a ship; the earth to
be placed below as the keel; the sky to be the sail; men to be the passengers;(2)
the subjacent abyss, the sea. How is it then that during so long a time,
no shipwreck has taken place? Now let a ship go one day without a pilot
and crew,(3) and thou wilt see it straightway foundering! But the world,
though subsisting now five thousand years, and many more, hath
suffered nothing of the kind. But why do I talk of a ship? Suppose one
hath pitched a small hut in the vineyards; and when the fruit is gathered,
leaves it vacant; it stands, however, scarce two or three days, but soon
goes to pieces, and tumbles down! Could not a hut, forsooth, stand without
superintendence? How then could the workmanship of a world, so fair and
marvellous; the laws of the night and day; the interchanging dances of
the seasons; the course of nature chequered and varied as it is in every
way throughout the earth, the sea, the sky; in plants, and in animals that
fly, swim, walk, creep; and in the race of men, far more dignified than
any of these, continue yet unbroken, during so long a period, without some
kind of providence? But in addition to what has been said, follow me whilst
I enumerate the meadows, the gardens, the various tribes of flowers; all
sorts of herbs, and their uses;(4) their odours, forms, disposition, yea,
but their very names; the trees which are fruitful, and which are barren;
the nature of metals,--and of animals,--in the sea, or on the land; of
those that swim, and those that traverse the air; the mountains, the forests,
the groves; the meadow below, and the meadow above; for there is a meadow
on the earth, and a meadow too in the sky; the various flowers of the stars;
the rose below, and the rainbow above! Would you have me point out also
the meadow of birds? Consider the variegated body of the peacock, surpassing
every dye, and the fowls of purple plumage.(5) Contemplate with me the
beauty of the sky; how it has been preserved so long without being dimmed;
and remains as bright and clear as if it had been only fabricated to-day;
moreover, the power of the earth, how its womb has not become effete by
bringing forth during so long a time! Contemplate with me the fountains;
how they burst forth and fail not, since the time they were begotten, to
flow forth continually throughout the day and night! Contemplate with me
the sea, receiving so many rivers, yet never exceeding its measure! But
how long shall we pursue things unattainable! It is fit, indeed, that over
every one of these which has been spoken of, we should say, "O Lord, how
hast Thou magnified Thy works; in wisdom hast Thou made them all."(6)
6. But what is the sapient argument of the unbelievers.
when we go over all these particulars with them; the magnitude, the beauty
of the creation, the prodigality, the munificence everywhere displayed?
This very thing, say they, is the worst fault, that God hath made the world
so beautiful and so vast. For if He had not made it beautiful and vast,
we should not have made a god of it; but now being struck with its grandeur,
and
409
marvelling at its beauty, we have thought it to be a deity.(1) But such
an argument is good for nothing. For that neither the magnitude, nor beauty
of the world is the cause of this impiety, but their own want of understanding,
is what we are prepared to show, proved by the case of ourselves, who have
never been so affected. Why then have "we" not made a deity of it? Do we
not see it with the same eyes as themselves? Do we not enjoy the same advantage
from the creation with themselves? Do we not possess the same soul? Have
we not the same body? Do we not tread the same earth? How comes it that
this beauty and magnitude hath not persuaded us to think the same as they
do? But this will be evident not from this proof only, but from another
besides. For as a proof that it is not for its beauty they have made a
deity of it, but by reason of their own folly, why do they adore the ape,
the crocodile, the dog, and the vilest of animals? Truly, "they became
vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing
themselves to be wise, they became fools."(2)
7. Nevertheless, we will not frame our answer from
these things only, but will also say something yet further. For God, foreseeing
these things of old, destroyed, in His wisdom, this plea of theirs. On
this account He made the world not only wonderful and vast, but also corruptible
and perishable; and placed therein many evidences of its weakness; and
what He did with respect to the Apostles,(3) He did with respect to the
whole world. What then did He with respect to the Apostles? Since they
used to perform many great and astonishing signs and wonders, He suffered
them constantly to be scourged, to be expelled, to inhabit the dungeon,
to encounter bodily infirmities, to be in continual tribulations, lest
the greatness of their miracles should make them to be accounted as gods
amongst mankind. Therefore when He had bestowed so great favour upon them,
He suffered their bodies to be mortal, and in many cases obnoxious to disease;
and did not remove their infirmity, that He might give full proof of their
nature. And this is not merely my assertion, but that of Paul himself,
who says, "For though I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool; but
now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth
me to be, or that he heareth of me."(4) And again, "But we have this treasure
in earthen vessels."(5) But what is meant by "earthen vessels?" In this
body, he means, which is mortal and perishable. For just as the earthen
vessel is formed from clay and fire, so also the body of these saints being
clay, and receiving the energy of the spiritual fire, becomes an earthen
vessel. But for what reason was it thus constituted, and so great a treasure,
and such a plentitude of graces entrusted to a mortal and corruptible body?
"That the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." For when
thou seest the Apostles raising the dead, yet themselves sick, and unable
to remove their own infirmities, thou mayest clearly perceive, that the
resurrection of the dead man was not effected by the power of him who raised
him, but by the energy of the Spirit. For in proof, that they were frequently
sick, hear what Paul saith respecting Timothy, "Use a little wine for thy
stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities."(6) And again, of another
he saith, "But Trophimus I have left at Miletus sick."(7) And writing to
the Philippians, he said, "Epaphroditus was sick nigh unto death."(8) For
if, when this was the case, they accounted them to be gods, and prepared
to do sacrifice unto them, saying, "The gods are come down to us in the
likeness of men;"(9) had such infirmities not existed, to what extent of
impiety might not men have proceeded, when they beheld their miracles?
As then in this case, because of the greatness of these signs, He suffered
their nature to remain in a state of infirmity, and permitted those repeated
trials, in order that they might not be thought to be gods, thus likewise
He did with respect to the creation, a thing nearly parallel to this. For
He fashioned it beautiful and vast; but on the other hand corruptible.
8. And both of these points the Scriptures teach,
for one in treating of the beauty of the heavens thus speaks "The heavens
declare the glory of God."(10) And again, "Who hath placed the sky as a
vault,(11) and spread it out as a tent over the earth."(12) And again,
"Who holdeth the circle of heaven."(13) But another writer, shewing that
although the world be great and fair, it is yet corruptible, thus speaks;
"Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth, and
the
410
heavens are the works of Thine hands. They shall perish, but Thou remainest,
and they all shall wax old as doth a garment, and as a vesture shalt Thou
fold them up, and they shall be changed."(1) And again, David saith of
the sun, that "he is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth
as a giant to run his course."(2) Seest thou how he places before thee
the beauty of this star, and its greatness? For even as a bridegroom when
he appears from some stately chamber,(3) so the sun sends forth his rays
under the East; and adorning the heaven as it were with a saffron-coloured
veil, and making the clouds like roses, and running unimpeded all the day;
he meets no obstacle to interrupt his course. Beholdest thou, then, his
beauty? Beholdest thou his greatness? Look also at the proof of his weakness!
For a certain wise man, to make this plain, said, "What is brighter than
the sun, yet the light thereof suffers eclipse."(4) Nor is it only from
this circumstance that his infirmity is to be perceived, but also in the
concourse Of the clouds. Often, at least, when a cloud passes underneath
him, though emitting his beams, and endeavouring to pierce through it,
he has not strength to do so; the cloud being too dense, and not suffering
him to penetrate through it. "He nourishes the seeds, however,"(5) replies
some one--Yes--still he does not nourish them by himself, but requires
the assistance of the earth, and of the dew, and of the rains, and of the
winds, and the right distribution of the seasons. And unless all these
things concur, the sun's aid is but superfluous. But this would not seem
to be like a deity, to stand in need of the assistance of others, for that
which he wishes to do; for it is a special attribute of God to want nothing;
He Himself at least did not in this manner bring forth the seeds from the
ground; He only commanded, and they all shot forth. And again, that thou
mayest learn that it is not the nature of the elements, but His command
which effects all things; He both brought into being these very elements
which before were not; and without the need of any aid, He brought down
the manna for the Jews. For it is said, "He gave them bread from heaven."(6)
But why do I say, that in order to the perfection of fruits, the sun requires
the aid of other elements for their sustenance; when he himself requires
the assistance of many things for his sustenance, and would not himself
be sufficient for himself. For in order that he may proceed on his way,
he needs the heaven as a kind of pavement spread out underneath him; and
that he may shine, he needs the clearness and rarity of the air; since
if even this become unusually dense, he is not able to show his light;
and, on the other hand, he requires coolness and moisture, lest his rays
should be intolerable to all, and burn up everything. When, therefore,
other elements. overrule him, and correct his weakness (overrule as for
example, clouds, and walls, and certain other bodies that intercept his
light:--or correct his excess, as the dews, and fountains, and cool air),
how can such a one be a Deity? For God must be independent, and not stand
in need of assistance, be the source of all good things to all, and be
hindered by nothing; even as Paul, as well as the prophet Isaiah, saith
of God; the latter(7) thus making Him speak in His own Person, "I fill
heaven and earth, saith the Lord."(8) And again, "Am I a God nigh at hand,
and not a God afar off?"(9) And again, David says, "I have said unto the
Lord, Thou art my Lord, for Thou hast no need of my good things."(10) But
Paul, demonstrating this independence of help, and shewing that both these
things especially belong to God; to stand in need of nothing, and of Himself
to supply all things to all; speaks on this wise, "God that made the heaven,
and the earth, and the sea, Himself needeth not any thing, giving to all
life and all things."(11)
9. It would indeed be easy for us to take a survey
of the other elements, the heaven, the air, the earth, the sea, and to
shew the imbecility of these, and how each requires the assistance of his
neighbour, and without this assistance, is lost and destroyed. For as it
regards the earth, if the fountains fail it, and the moisture infused from
the sea and the rivers, it quickly perishes by being parched. The remaining
elements too stand in need of one another. the air of the sun, as well
as the sun of the air. But not to protract this discourse; in what has
been said, having given a sufficient supply of reasons to start from for
those who are willing to receive them, we shall be content. For if the
sun, which is the most surprising part of the whole creation, hath been
proved to be so feeble and needy, how much more the other parts of the
universe? What then I have advanced (offering these things for the consideration
of the studious), I will myself again shew you in discourse from the Scriptures;
and prove,
411
that not only the sun, but also the whole universe is thus corruptible.
For since the elements are mutually destructive. and when much cold intervenes,
it chastens the force of the sun's rays; and on the other hand, the heat
prevailing, consumes the cold; and since the elements are both the causes
and subjects of contrary qualities, and dispositions, in one another; it
is very evident that these things offer a proof of great corruptibility;
and of the fact, that all these things which are visible, are a corporeal
substance.
10. But since this subject is too lofty for our
simplicity, permit me now to lead you to the sweet fountain of the Scriptures,
that we may refresh your ears. For we will not discourse to you of the
heaven and the earth separately, but will exhibit the Apostle declaring
this very thing to us concerning the whole creation, in these plain terms,
that the whole creation is now in bondage to corruption; and why it is
thus in bondage, and at what time it shall be delivered from it, and unto
what condition it shall be translated. For after he had said, "The sufferings
of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that
shall be revealed in us;" he goes on to add; "For the earnest expectation
of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God. For the
creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of Him
who hath subjected the same in hope."(1) But what he intends is to this
effect; "The creature," he says, "was made corruptible;" for this is implied
in the expression, "being made subject to vanity." For it was made corruptible
by the command of God. But God so commanded it for the sake of our race;
for since it was to nurture a corruptible man, it was necessary itself
should also be of the same character; for of course corruptible bodies
were not to dwell in an incorruptible creation. But, nevertheless, he tells
us, it will not remain so. "The creature(2) also itself shall be delivered
from the bondage of corruption;" and afterwards, for the purpose of shewing
when this event shall take place, and through whom, he adds, "Into the
glorious liberty of the sons of God." For when we are raised, his meaning
is, and assume incorruptible bodies; then also this body of the heaven,
the earth, and the whole creation, shall be incorruptible, and imperishable.
When, therefore, thou beholdest the sun arising, admire the Creator; when
thou beholdest him hiding himself and disappearing, learn the weakness
of his nature, that thou mayest not adore him as a Deity! For God hath
not only implanted in the nature of the elements this proof of their weakness,
but hath also bidden His servants, that were but men, command them; so
that although thou shouldest not know their servitude from their aspect,
thou mayest learn, from those who have commanded them, that they are all
thy fellow-servants. Therefore it was, that Joshua, the son of Nave,(3)
said, "Let the sun stand still in Gibeon, and the moon over against the
valley of Ajalon.' And again the prophet Isaiah made the sun to retrace
his steps, under the reign of Hezekiah; and Moses gave orders to the air,
and the sea, the earth, and the rocks. Elisha changed the nature of the
waters; the Three Children triumphed over the fire. Thou seest how God
hath provided for us on either hand; leading us by the beauty of the elements
to the knowledge of His divinity; and, by their feebleness, not permitting
us to lapse into the worship of them.
11. For the sake of all these things then, let us
glorify Him, our Guardian; not only by words, but also by deeds; and let
us shew forth an excellent conversation, not only in general, but in particular
with regard to abstinence from oaths. For not every sin brings the same
penalty; but those which are easiest to be amended, bring upon us the greatest
punishment: which indeed Solomon intimated, when he said, "It is not wonderful
if any one be taken stealing; for he stealeth that he may satisfy his soul
that is hungry; but the adulterer, by the lack of understanding, destroyeth
his own soul."(4) But what he means is to this effect. The thief is a grievous
offender, but not so grievous a one as the adulterer: for the former, though
it be a sorry reason for his conduct, yet at the same time has to plead
the necessity arising from indigence; but the latter, when no necessity
compels him, by his mere madness rushes into the gulph of iniquity. This
also may be said with regard to those who swear. For they have not any
pretext to allege, but merely their contempt.
12. I know, indeed, that I may seem to be too tedious
and burdensome; and that I may be thought to give annoyance by continuing
this admonition. But nevertheless, I do not desist, in order that ye may
even be shamed by my shamelessness to abstain from the cus-
412
tom of oaths. For if that unmerciful and cruel judge, paying respect to the importunity of the widow, changed his custom, much more will ye do this; and especially when he who is exhorting you, doth it not for himself, but for your salvation. Or rather, indeed, I cannot deny that I do this for myself; for I consider your benefit as my own success. But I could wish that you, even as I labour, and weary myself for your safety, would in like manner make your own souls a matter of anxiety to yourselves; and then assuredly this work of reformation would be perfected. And what need is there to multiply words? For if there were no hell, neither punishment for the contumacious, nor reward for the obedient; and I had come to you, and asked this in the way of a favour, would ye not have consented? would ye not have granted my petition, when I asked so trifling a favour? But when it is God who asks this favour, and for the sake of yourselves, who are to grant it, and not for Himself, Who is to receive it; who is there so ungracious, who is there so miserable and wretched, that he will not grant this favour to God, when He asks it; and especially when he himself who grants it, is in future to enjoy the benefit of it? Considering these things then, repeat over to yourselves, when ye depart hence, all that has been said; and correct in every way those who take no heed to it; to the end that we may receive the recompense of other men's good actions, as well as our own, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom, and with Whom be glory to the Father, with the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY XI.
Thanksgiving to God for deliverance from the evils expected owing to
the sedition; and recollection of the events which took place at the time.
Also against those who find fault with the structure of the human body,
and in general concerning the creation of man; and, in conclusion, on success
in avoiding oaths.
1. WHEN I think of the past tempest, and of the
present calm, I cease not saying, "Blessed be God, who maketh all things,
and changeth them; who hath brought light out of darkness; who leadeth
to the gates of hell, and bringeth back; who chastiseth, but killeth not."(1)
And this I desire you too to repeat constantly, and never to desist. For
if He hath benefitted us by deeds, what pardon shall we deserve, if we
do not requite Him even by words. Therefore, I exhort that we never cease
to give Him thanks; since if we are grateful for the former benefits, it
is plain that we shall enjoy others also, which are greater. Let us say,
then, continually, Blessed be God, who hath permitted us to spread before
you in security the accustomed table, whilst He hath also granted you to
hear our word with assurance of safety! Blessed be God, that we no longer
run hither flying from the danger without, but only from desire to hear;
that we no longer meet one another with agony, trembling, and anxious thoughts;
but with much confidence, having shaken off all our fear. Our condition,
indeed, on former days was nothing better than that of those who are tossed
up and down in the midst of the deep; and expecting shipwreck every hour.
We were scared all day long by innumerable rumours, and disturbed and agitated
on every side; and were every day busy and curious to know who had come
from the court?(2) what news he had brought? and whether what was reported
was true or false? Our nights too we passed without sleep, and whilst we
looked upon the city, we wept over it, as if it were on the eve of its
destruction.
2. For this cause yourselves too kept silence on
those former days, because the whole city was empty, and all had migrated
to the deserts, and because those who were left behind were overshadowed(3)
by the cloud of despondency. For the soul when once it is filled with despondency,
is not apt to hear anything that may be said. For this cause, when the
friends of Job came, and saw that tragedy of his house, and the just man
sitting
413
down upon the dunghill, and covered with sores, they rent their garments,
and groaned and sat down by him in silence; making it manifest that nothing
is so suitable to the afflicted at first, as quiet and silence. For the
calamity was too great for consolation. Therefore also the Jews, whilst
they were in bondage to work in clay and the brick-making, when they saw
Moses come to them, were not able to give heed to his words, by reason
of their failure of spirit, and their affliction. And what marvel is it
that faint-hearted men have felt this, when we find that the Disciples
also fell into the same infirmity. For after that mystic Supper, when Christ
took(1) them apart and discoursed with them, the disciples at first asked
Him more than once, "Whither goest Thou?" But when He had told them what
evils they should in a little while afterwards encounter, the wars, and
the persecutions, and the universal enmity, the stripes, the prisons, the
tribunals, the appearance before magistrates; then, their souls oppressed
as by a heavy burthen with the dread of the things He had spoken, and with
the sadness of these approaching events, remained henceforth in a state
of stupor. Christ, therefore, perceiving their consternation, reproved
it by saying, "I go to My Father, and no one among you asketh Me, Whither
goest Thou? But because I have said these things unto you, sorrow hath
filled your hearts." For this reason also we were silent for some time
past, awaiting the present opportunity. For if a person who is about to
ask a favour of any one, though the request be a reasonable one, waits
a fitting occasion to propose it, that he may find him who is to grant
the petition in a mild and well-disposed frame of mind; and that receiving
assistance from the favourable opportunity, he may obtain the benefit;
how much rather is it necessary that the speaker should seek a fit season,
so that he may address his discourse to an auditor well affected, and free
from all care and despondency; which accordingly we have done.
3. Inasmuch, then, as ye haste now shaken off despondency,
we are desirous to recall you to the recollection of former matters; so
that our discourse may be rendered the clearer to you. For what we said
of the creation, that God not only made it beautiful, and wonderful, and
vast, but also weak and corruptible; and moreover that He hath established
divers proofs of this; ordering both these circumstances for our advantage;
leading us on by its beauty to admiration of Him who framed it: and by
its weakness leading us away from the worship of the creature; this we
may see, take place also in the case of the body. For with respect to this
too there are many among the enemies to the truth, as well as among those
who belong to our own ranks, who make it a subject of enquiry, why it was
created corruptible and frail? Many also of the Greeks and heretics affirm,
that it was not even created by God,(2) For they declare it to be unworthy
of God's creative art, and enlarge upon its impurities, its sweat, its
tears, its labours, and sufferings, and all the other incidents of the
body. But, for my part, when such things are talked of, I would first make
this reply. Tell me not of man, fallen, degraded and condemned. But if
thou wouldest learn what manner of body God formed us with at the first,
let us go to Paradise, and survey the Man that was created at the beginning.
For that body was not thus corruptible and mortal; but like as some statue
of gold just brought from the furnace, that shines splendidly, so that
frame was free from all corruption. Labour did not trouble it, nor sweat
deface it. Cares did not conspire against it; nor sorrows besiege it; nor
was there any other affection of that kind to distress it. But when man
did not bear his felicity with moderation, but threw contempt upon his
Benefactor, and thought a deceiving demon more worthy of credit than God
who cared for him, and who had raised him to honour, and when he expected
to become himself a god, and conceived thoughts above his proper dignity,
then,--then indeed it was that God, to humble him by decisive acts, made
him mortal, as well as corruptible; and lettered him with such varied necessities;
not from hatred or aversion, but in care for him, and to repress at the
very outset that evil and destructive pride; and instead of permitting
it to proceed any further, He admonished Him by actual experience, that
he was mortal and corruptible; thus to convince him that he must never
again think or dream of such things as he had done. For the devil's suggestion,
was, "Ye shall be as gods."(3) Desiring then utterly to eradicate this
idea, God made the body subject to much suffering and disease; to instruct
him by its very nature that he must never again entertain such a thought.
And that
414
this is true, is really most evident from what befel him; for after
such an expectation, he was condemned to this punishment. Consider also
with me the wisdom(1) of God in this matter. He did not allow him to be
the first to die, but permitted his son to suffer this death; in order
that seeing before his eyes the body corrupting and decaying, he might
receive a striking lesson of wisdom(2) from that spectacle; and learn what
had come to pass, and be duly chastened before he departed hence.
4. Really then, as I said, this point is apparent
from what has already taken place; but it will be made no less clear from
what yet remains to be stated. For if whilst we are lettered with such
necessities of the body; and whilst it is the lot of all men to die, to
suffer corruption, to moulder in the sight of all, and to dissolve into
dust, so that the Gentile philosophers made one and the same comprehensive
definition of the human race(for when asked what man was, they answered,
he is an animal, rational and mortal); if, forsooth, whilst all admitted
this, there were some who dared in the opinion of the multitude to immortalize
themselves; and notwithstanding that the very sense of sight bore witness
to their mortality, were ambitious to be called gods, and were honoured
as such; to what a length of impiety would not many men have proceeded,
if death had not gone on teaching all men the mortality and corruptibility
of our nature? Hear, for instance, what the prophet says of a barbarian
king, when seized with this frenzy. "I will exalt," saith he, "my throne
above the stars of heaven; and I will be like unto the Most High."(3) Afterwards,
deriding him, and speaking of his death, he says, "Corruption is under
thee, and the worm is thy covering;"(4) but his meaning is, "Dost thou
dare, O man, whom such an end is awaiting, to entertain such imaginations?"
Again, of another, I mean the king of the Tyrians, when he conceived the
like aims, and was ambitious to be considered as a God, he says, "Thou
art not a God, but a man, and they that pierce thee shall say so."(5) Thus
God, in making this body of ours as it is, hath from the beginning utterly
taken away all occasion of idolatry.
5. But why dost thou marvel if this hath happened
in respect to the body, when even with respect to the soul it is plain,
that a similar thing hath taken place. For God made it not mortal, but
permitted it to be immortal; He constituted it however subject to forgetfulness,
to ignorance, to sadness, and to care; and this, lest regarding its own
nobility of birth, it might take up a conceit too high for its proper dignity.
For if, even while the case stands thus, some have dared to aver, that
it is of the Divine essence; to what a pitch of frenzy would they not have
reached, if it had been devoid of these imperfections? What, however, I
affirmed respecting the creation, I affirm also respecting the body, that
both these things alike excite my admiration of God; that He hath made
it corruptible; and that in its very corruptibility, He hath manifested
His own power and wisdom. For that He could have made it of some better
material, He hath evidenced from the celestial and the solar substance.
For He that made those such as they are, could have made this also like
them, had He thought proper to do so. But the cause of its imperfection
is what I before adverted to. This circumstance by no means lowers the
admiration due to the Creator's workmanship, but rather increases it; for
the meanness of the substance, manifests the resource and adaptiveness
of His art; since He hath introduced such a harmony of parts in clay and
ashes, and senses so various and manifold and capable of such spiritual
wisdom.
6. In proportion, therefore, as thou findest fault
with the meanness of the substance, be so much the more astonished at the
greatness of the art displayed. For this reason also, I do not so much
admire the statuary who forms a beautiful figure out of gold, as him who,
by the resources of art, is able, even in crumbling clay, to exhibit a
marvellous and inimitable mould of beauty. In the former case, the material
gives some aid to the artist, but in the latter, there is a naked display
of his art. Wouldest thou learn then, how great the wisdom of the Creator
is, consider what it is that is made out of clay? What else is there but
brick and tile? Nevertheless, God, the Supreme Artist, from the same material
of which only the brick and tile is formed, hath been able to make an eye
so beautiful, as to astonish all who behold it, and to implant in it such
power, that it can at once survey the high aerial expanse, and by the aid
of a small pupil embrace the mountains, forests, hills, the ocean, yea,
the heaven, by so small a thing! Tell me not then of tears and rheums,
for these things are the fruit of thy sin; but consider its beauty, and
visual power; and how it is that whilst it ranges over such an expanse
of air, it experiences no weariness or distress! The feet indeed become
tired and weakened even after going but a small distance; but the eye,
in travers-
415
ing a space so lofty and so wide, is not sensible of any infirmity.
For since this is the most necessary to us of all our members, He has not
suffered it to be oppressed with fatigue; in order that the service it
renders us might be free and unfettered.
7. But rather, I should say, what language is fully
adequate to set forth the whole excellency of this member? And why do I
speak of the pupil and the visual faculty? for if you were to investigate
that which seems the meanest of all the members, I mean the eyelashes,
you would behold even in these the manifold wisdom of God the Creator!
For as it is with respect to the ears of corn; the beards, standing forth
as a sort of spears, repel the birds, and do not suffer them to settle
upon the fruits, and to break the stalk, which is too tender to bear them;
so also is it with regard to the eyes. The hairs of the eyelids are ranged
in front, and answer the purpose of beards and spears; keeping dust and
light substances at a distance from the eyes, and any thing that might
incommode the sight; and not permitting the eyelids to be annoyed. Another
instance of wisdom, no less remarkable, is to be observed in eyebrows.
Who can help being struck by their position? For they do not project to
an immoderate degree, so as to obscure the sight; nor do they retire farther
back than is fitting; but in the same manner as the caves of a house, they
stand out above, receiving the perspiration as it descends from the forehead,
and not permitting it to annoy the eyes. For this purpose too there is
a growth of hair upon them, which serves by its roughness to stay what
descends from above, and affords the exact protection that is needed, and
contributes also much appearance of beauty to the eyes. Nor is this the
only matter of wonder! There is another thing also which is equally so.
How is it, I ask, that the hairs of the head increase, and are cut off;
but those of the eyebrows, not so? For not even this has happened undesignedly,
or by chance, but in order that they might not darken the sight too much
by becoming very long; an inconvenience from which those suffer who have
arrived at extreme old age.
8. And who could possibly trace out all the wisdom
which is manifested by means of the brain! For, in the first place, He
made it soft, since it serves as a fountain to all the senses. Next, in
order that it might not suffer injury owing to its peculiar nature, He
fortified it on every side with bones. Further; that it might not suffer
from friction, by the hardness of the bones, He interposed a middle membrane:
and not only a single one, but also a second; the former being spread out
on the under side of the skull, but the latter enveloping the upper substance
of the brain, and the first being the harder of the two. And this was done,
both for the cause that has been mentioned, and in order that the brain
might not be the first to receive the blows inflicted upon the head; but
that these membranes first encountering them, might free it from all injury,
and preserve it unwounded. Moreover, that the bone which covers the brain
is not a single and continuous one, but has many sutures on every side,
is a circumstance which contributes much to its security. For a ventilation
of the vapours that surround it may easily take place outward through these
sutures, so as to prevent it from being suffocated;(1) and if a blow should
be inflicted upon it, on any particular point, the damage does not extend
to the whole. For if the bone bad been one and continuous, the stroke even
when it fell upon one part, only, would have injured the whole; but now,
by its being divided into many parts, this can never happen. For if one
part should chance to be wounded, only the bone that is situated near that
part receives injury, but all the rest remain unhurt; the continuity of
the stroke being intercepted by the division of the bones, and being unable
to extend itself to the adjacent parts. By reason of this God hath constructed
a covering for the brain of many bones; and just as when one builds a house,
he lays on a roof, and tiles upon the upper part, so God hath placed these
bones above upon the head, and hath provided that the hairs should shoot
forth, and serve as a kind of cap for it.
9. The very same thing also He hath done with regard
to the heart. For inasmuch as the heart has preeminence over all the members
in our body, and that the supreme power over our whole life is entrusted
to it, and death happens when it receives but a slight blow; He hath fenced
it about on every side with stiff and hard bones, surrounding it by the
protection of the breast-bone(2) before, and the blade-bones(3) behind.
And what He did with respect to the membranes of the brain, He hath done
in this instance also. For in order that it might not be rubbed and pained
in striking against the hard bones which encompass it, in the throbbing
and quick pulsation to which it is subject in anger and similar affections,
He both interposed many membranes there, and placed the lungs by
416
the side of it to act the part of a soft bed to these pulsations, so
that the heart may break its force on these without sustaining injury or
distress.
But why do I speak of the heart, and of the brain,
when if any one will investigate even the very nails, he will see the manifold
wisdom of God displayed in these; as well by their form, as by their substance
and position. I might also have mentioned why our fingers are not all equal,
and many other particulars besides; but to those who are inclined to attend,
the wisdom of God Who created us, will be sufficiently clear from what
has been said. Wherefore, leaving this department to be investigated with
diligence by those who are desirous of the task, I shall turn myself to
another objection.
10. There are many forsooth, who, besides what has
been already referred to, bring forward this objection. If man be the king
of the brutes, why have many animals an advantage over him in strength,
agility, and fleetness? For the horse is swifter, the ox is more enduring,
the eagle is lighter, and the lion stronger, than man. What then have we
to reply to this argument? Thus much; that from that circumstance we may
especially discern the wisdom of God and the honour which He has put upon
us. A horse, it is true, is swifter than man, but for making dispatch on
a journey, the man is better fitted than the horse. For a horse, though
the very swiftest and strongest that may be, can scarcely travel two hundred
stadia in a day;(1) but a man, harnessing a number of horses in succession,
will be able to accomplish a distance of two thousand stadia. Thus, the
advantage which swiftness affords to the horse, intelligence and art afford
to the man in a much greater excess. The man, it is true, has not feet
so strong as the other, but then he has those of the other which serve
him as well as his own. For not one of the brutes has ever been able to
subjugate another to his own use; but man has the range of them all; and
by that variety of skill which is given him of God, makes each of the animals
subservient to the employment best suited to him. For if the feet of men
had been as strong as those of horses, they would have been useless for
other purposes, for difficult ground, for the summits of mountains, for
climbing trees; for the hoof is usually an impediment to treading in such
places. So that although the feet of men are softer than theirs, they are
still adapted to more various uses, and are not the worse for their want
of strength, while they have the power of the horse ministering to their
aid, and at the same time they have the advantage over him in variety of
tread. Again, the eagle has his light pinion; but I have reason and art,
by which I am enabled to bring down and master all the winged animals.
But if thou wouldest see my pinion too, I have one much lighter than he;
one which can soar, not merely ten or twenty stadia, or even as high as
heaven, but above heaven itself, and above the heaven of heavens; even
to "where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God!"(2)
11. Again, the irrational animals have their weapons
in their own body; thus, the ox has his horns; the wild boar his tusks;
the lion his claws. But God hath not furnished the nature of my body with
weapons, but hath made these to be extraneous to it, for the purpose of
shewing that man is a gentle animal; and that I have not always occasion
to use my weapons, for from time to time I lay these aside, and from time
to time resume them. In order then that I might be free and unfettered
in this matter, not being at all times compelled to carry my weapons, He
hath made these to be separate from my nature. For it is not only in our
possessing a rational nature that we surpass the brutes, but we also excel
them in body. For God has made this to correspond with the soul's nobility,
and fitted to excute its commands. He has not, indeed, made the body such
as it is, without reason; but such as it ought to be, as having to minister
to a rational soul; so that if it were not such as it is, the operations
of the soul would be greatly impeded: and this is manifest from diseases.
For if this nice adjustment of the body be diverted from its proper condition
in ever so small a degree, many of the soul's energies are impeded; as,
for instance, if the brain should become too hot, or too cold. So that
from the body it is easy to see much of the Divine Providence, not only
because He made it at first better than it is at present; nor because even
now He hath changed it for a useful purpose, but also because He will raise
it again to much greater glory.
12. But, if thou art desirous to learn in a different
way what wisdom God hath shewn respecting the body, I will mention that
by which Paul seems most especially to be constantly struck. But what is
this? That He
417
hath made the members to excel one another, though not in the same things?
Some He hath appointed to surpass the rest in beauty, and some in strength.
Thus, the eye is beautiful, but the feet are stronger. The head is honourable,
but it cannot say to the feet, "I have no need of you."(1) And this may
be seen too with regard to irrational animals; and the same in all the
relations of life. The king, for instance, has need of his subjects, and
the subjects of the king; just as the head has need of the feet. And again,
as to brutes; some are more powerful than the rest; and some more beautiful.
Some there are that delight us; some that nourish; and some that clothe
us. Thus the peacock delights; and fowls and swine nourish; sheep and goats
provide us clothing; and the ox and ass share our labours. There are also
others which provide us with none of these, but which call our powers into
active exercise. Thus the wild animals increase the strength of the hunters;
and instruct our race by the fear which they inspire, and render us more
cautious; and for medical purposes, they supply no small contributions
from their bodies.(2) So that if any one say to thee, "How art thou a lord
of the brutes, whilst afraid of the lion?" Answer him, "Things were not
ordered in this manner at the beginning, when I was in favour with God,
when I dwelt in Paradise. But when I had offended my Master, I fell under
the power of those who were my servants! Yet not even now entirely; since
I possess an art by which I overcome the wild animals." So also it happens
in great houses; the sons, while they are yet under age, are afraid of
many of the servants; but when they have done amiss, their dread is greatly
heightened. And this we may say also of serpents, and scorpions, and vipers;
that they are formidable to us by reason of sin.
13. And not only as it regards our body, and the
various states of life, is this diversity observable; nor is it confined
to brutes; but it may be seen also in trees; and the meanest of them may
be observed to have an excellence above those which are greater; so that
all things are not alike in all, that all may be necessary to us; and that
we may perceive the manifold wisdom of the Lord. Do not then lay blame
on God on account of the body's corruptibleness, but for this the rather
do Him homage, and admire Him for His wisdom and His tender care; His wisdom,
that in so corruptible a body He hath been able to display such harmony;
His tender care that for the benefit of the soul He hath made it corruptible,
that He might repress her vanity, and subdue her pride! Why then did He
not make it thus from the beginning, asks some one? It was, I reply. to
justify Himself before thee by these very works; and as much as to say
by the result itself, "I called thee to greater honour, but thou didst
constitute thyself unworthy or the gift, banishing thyself from Paradise!
Nevertheless, I will not even now despise thee, but I will correct thy
sin, and bring thee back(3) to heaven. Therefore for thine own sake, I
have permitted thee so long to decay and suffer corruption, that in the
fulness of time the discipline of thy humility might be established; and
that thou mightest never more resume thy former conceit.
14. For all these things then let us give thanks
to God who loveth man; and for His tender care over us, render Him a recompense,
that will also be profitable to ourselves; and as regards the commandment
which I so frequently discourse of to you, let us use our utmost diligence!
For I will not desist from the exhortation until ye are amended: seeing
that what we aim at is not that we may address you seldom or frequently,
but that we may continue speaking till we have persuaded you. To the Jews
when God said by the prophet, "If ye fast for strife and debate, to what
purpose do ye fast for me?"(4) And by us He saith to you, "If ye fast unto
oaths and perjuries, to what purpose do ye fast? For how shall we behold
the sacred Passover? How shall we receive the holy Sacrifice? How shall
we be partakers of those wonderful mysteries by means of the same tongue
with which we have trampled upon God's law, the same tongue with which
we have contaminated the soul? For if no one would dare to receive the
royal purple with filthy hands, how shall we receive the Lord's Body with
a tongue that has become polluted! For the oath is of the wicked one, but
the Sacrifice is of the Lord. "What communion then hath light with darkness,
and what concord hath Christ with Belial?"(5)
15. That ye are desirous, indeed, to be rid of this
impiety, I know well; but since each man may not be able easily to accomplish
this by himself, let us enter into fraternities and partnerships in this
matter; and as the poor do in their feasts,(6) when each one alone would
not be able to furnish a complete banquet; when they all meet together,
they each
418
bring their contribution to the feast; so also let us act. Inasmuch as we are of ourselves too listless, let us make partnerships with each other, and pledge ourselves to contribute counsel, and admonitions and exhortation, and rebuke and reminiscence, and threatening; in order that from the diligence of each we may all be amended. For seeing that we observe the affairs of our neighbour more sharply than we do our own, let us be watchful of the safety of others, and commit the guardianship of ourselves to them; and let us engage in this pious rivalry, to the end that thus becoming superior to such an evil habit, we may come with boldness to this holy feast; and be partakers of the holy Sacrifice, with a favourable hope and a good conscience; through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom and with whom, be glory to the Father, with the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY XII.
Thanksgiving to God for the pardon granted to the offenders against
the Emperor. Physical discourse on the Creation. Proof that God, in creating
man, implanted in him a natural law. Duty of avoiding oaths with the utmost
diligence.
1. YESTERDAY I said "Blessed be God!" and to-day
again I say the very same thing. For although the evils we dreaded have
passed away, we should not suffer the memory of them to disappear; not
indeed that we may grieve, but that we may give thanks. For if the memory
of these terrors abide with us, we shall never be overtaken by the actual
experience of such terrors. For what need have we of the experience, whilst
our memory acts the part of a monitor? Seeing then that God hath not permitted
us to be overwhelmed in the flood of those troubles when upon us, let us
not permit ourselves to become careless when these are passed away. Then,
when we were sad, He consoled us, let us give thanks to Him now that we
are joyful. In our agony He comforted us, and did not forsake us; therefore
let us not betray ourselves in prosperity by declining into sloth. "Forget
not," saith one, "the time of famine in the day of plenty."(1) Therefore
let us be mindful of the time of temptation in the day of relief; and with
respect to our sins let us also act in the same manner. If thou hast sinned,
and God hath pardoned thy sin, receive thy pardon, and give thanks; but
be not forgetful of the sin; not that thou shouldest fret thyself with
the thought of it, but that thou mayest school thy soul, not to grow wanton,
and relapse again into the same snares.(2)
2. Thus also Paul did; for having said, "He counted
me faithful, putting me into the ministry," he goes on to add, "who was
before a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious."(3) "Let the life of
the servant," saith he, "be openly exposed, so that the lovingkindness
of the Master be apparent. For although I have received the remission of
sins, I do not reject the memory of those sins." And this not only manifested
the lovingkindness of the Lord, but made the man himself the more illustrious.
For when thou hast learnt who he was before, then thou wilt be the more
astonished at him; and when thou seest out of what he came to be what he
was, then thou wilt commend him the more; and if thou hast greatly sinned,
yet upon being changed thou wilt conceive favourable hopes from this instance.
For in addition to what has been said, such an example comforts those who
are in despair, and causes them again to stand erect. The same thing also
will be the case with regard to our city; for all the events that have
happened serve to shew your virtue, who by means of repentance have prevailed
to ward off such wrath, whilst at the same time they proclaim the lovingkindness
of God, who has removed the cloud that was so threatening, in consequence
of a small change of conduct, and so raises up again all those who are
sunk in despair, when they learn, from our case, that
419
he who looks upward for the Divine help, is not to be overwhelmed, though
innumerable waves should encompass him on all sides.
3. For who hath seen, who hath ever heard of sufferings
such as were ours? We were every day in expectation that our city would
be overturned from its foundations together with its inhabitants. But when
the Devil was hoping to sink the vessel, then God produced a perfect calm.
Let us not then be unmindful of the greatness of these terrors, in order
that we may remember the magnitude of the benefits received from God. He
who knows not the nature of the disease will not understand the physician's
art. Let us tell these things also to our children; and transmit them to
the remotest generations, that all may learn how the Devil had endeavoured
to destroy the very foundation of the city; and how God was able visibly
to raise it up again, when it was fallen and prostrate; and did not permit
even the least injury to befall it, but took away the fear; and dispelled
with much speed the peril it had been placed in. For even through the past
week we were all expecting that our substance would be confiscated; and
that soldiers would have been let loose upon us; and we were dreaming of
a thousand other horrors. But Io! all these things have passed away, even
like a cloud or a flitting shadow; and we have been punished only in the
expectation of what is dreadful; or rather we have not been punished, but
we have been disciplined, and have become better; God having softened the
heart of the Emperor. Let us then always and every day say, "Blessed be
God!" and with greater zeal let us give heed to our assembling, and let
us hasten to the church, from whence we have reaped this benefit. For ye
know whither ye fled at the first; whither ye flocked together; and from
what quarter our safety came. Let us then hold fast by this sacred anchor;
and as in the season of danger it did not betray us, so now let us not
leave it in the season of relief; but let us await with exact attention
the stated assemblies and prayers; and let us every day give a hearing
to the divine oracles. And the leisure which we spent in busily running
about after those who came from the court,(1) whilst we were labouring
under anxiety in respect to the evils that threatened us; this let us consume
wholly in hearing the divine laws, instead of unseasonable and senseless
pastimes; lest we should again reduce ourselves to the necessity of that
sort of occupation.(2)
4. On the three foregoing days, then, we have investigated
one method of acquiring the knowledge of God, and have brought it to a
conclusion; explaining how "the heavens declare the glory of God;"(8) and
what the meaning of that is, which is said by Paul; viz. "That the invisible
things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood
by the things that are made."(4) And we shewed how from the creation of
the world, and how by heaven, and earth, the sea, the Creator is glorified.
But to-day, after briefly philosophising on that same subject, we will
proceed to another topic. For He not only made it,(5) but provided also
that when it was made, it should carry on its operations; not permitting
it to be all immoveable, nor commanding it to be all in a state of motion.
The heaven, for instance, hath remained immoveable, according as the prophet
says, "He placed the heaven as a vault, and stretched it out as a tent
over the earth."(6) But, on the other hand, the sun with the rest of the
stars, runs on his course through every day.(7) And again, the earth is
fixed, but the waters are continually in motion; and not the waters only,
but the clouds, and the frequent and successive showers, which return at
their proper season. The nature of the clouds is one, but the things which
are produced out of them are different. For the rain, indeed, becomes wine
in the grape, but oil in the olive. And in other plants is changed into
their juices; and the womb of the earth is one, and yet bears different
fruits. The heat, too, of the sun-beams is one, but it ripens all things
differently; bringing some to maturity more slowly, and others more quickly.
Who then but must feel astonishment and admiration at these things?
5. Nay, this is not the only wonder, that He hath
formed it with this great variety and diversity; but farther, that He hath
spread it before all in common; the rich and the poor, sinners as well
as the righteous. Even as Christ also declared: "He maketh His sun to rise
upon the evil and the good, and sendeth His rain upon the just and unjust."(8)
Moreover, when He stocked the world with various animals, and implanted
divers dispositions in the creatures, He commanded us to imitate some of
these, and to avoid others. For example; the ant is industrious, and per-
420
forms a laborious task. By giving heed then, thou wilt receive the strongest
admonition from this animal not to indulge in sloth, nor to shun labour
and toil. Therefore also the Scripture has sent the sluggard to the ant,
saying, "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, emulate his ways, and be wiser than
he."(1) Art thou unwilling, he means, to learn from the Scriptures, that
it is good to labour, and that he who will not work, neither ought he to
eat?(2) learn it from the irrationals! This also we do in our families,
when those who are older, and who are considered superior, have done amiss,
we bid them to attend to thoughtful children. We say, "Mark such an one,
who is less than you, how earnest and watchful he is." Do thou then likewise
receive from this animal the best exhortation to industry; and marvel at
thy Lord, not only because He hath made heaven and the sun, but because
He hath also made the ant. For although the animal be small, it affords
much proof of the greatness of God's wisdom. Consider then how prudent
the ant is, and consider how God hath implanted in so small a body, such
an unceasing desire of working! But whilst from this animal thou learnest
industry; take from the bee at once a lesson of neatness, industry, and
social concord! For it is not more for herself(3) than for us, that the
bee labours, and toils every day; which is indeed a thing especially proper
for a Christian; not to seek his own things, but the things of others.
As then she traverses all the meadows that she may prepare a banquet for
another, so also, O man, do thou likewise; and if thou hast accumulated
wealth, expend it upon others; if thou hast the faculty of teaching,(4)
do not bury the talent, but bring it out publicly for the sake of those
who need it! Or if thou hast any other advantage, become useful to those
who require the benefit of thy labours! Seest thou not that for this reason,
especially, the bee is more honoured than the other animals; not because
she labours, but because she labours for others? For the spider also labours,
and toils, and spreads out his fine textures over the walls, surpassing
the utmost skill of woman; but the creature is without estimation, since
his work is in no way profitable to us; such are they that labour and toil,
but for themselves! Imitate too the simplicity of the dove! Imitate the
ass in his love to his master, and the ox also! Imitate the birds in their
freedom from anxiety! For great, great indeed is the advantage that may
be gained from irrational creatures for the correction of manners.
6. From these animals Christ also instructs us,
when He says, "Be ye wise as serpents, and harmless as doves."(5) And again;
"Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor
gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them."(6) The prophet
also, to shame the ungrateful Jews, thus speaks; "The ox knoweth his owner,
and the ass his master's crib; but Israel doth not know me."(7) And again;
"The turtle and the swallow and the crane observe the time of their coming,
but my people knoweth not the judgment of the Lord his God."(8) From these
animals, and such as these, learn to achieve virtue, and be instructed
to avoid wickedness by the contrary ones. For as the bee followeth good,
so the asp is destructive. Therefore shun wickedness, lest thou hear it
said, "The poison of asps is under their lips."(9) Again, the dog is devoid
of shame. Hate, therefore, this kind of wickedness. The fox also is crafty,
and fraudulent. Emulate not this vice; but as the bee, in flying over the
meadows, does not choose every sort of flower;(10) but selecting that which
is useful, leaves the rest; so also do thou; and whilst surveying the whole
race of irrational animals, if any thing profitable may be drawn from these,
accept it; the advantages which they have naturally, make it thy business
to practise of thine own free choice. For in this respect also thou hast
been honoured of God; that what they have as natural advantages He hath
permitted thee to achieve of thy own free choice, in order that thou mayest
also receive a reward. For good works with them spring not from free will,
and reason, but from nature only. In other words, the bee makes honey,
not because it has learnt this by reason and reflection, but because it
is instructed by nature. Because if the work had not been natural, and
allotted to the race, some of them assuredly would have been unskilled
in their art; whereas from the time that the world was first made, even
to the present day, no one hath observed bees resting from labour, and
not making honey. For such natural characteristics are common to the whole
race. But those things which depend on our free choice are not common;
for labour is necessary that they may be accomplished.
7. Take then all the best things, and clothe thyself
with them; for thou art indeed king of the irrationals; but kings, if there
be any
421
thing excellent possessed by their subjects, be it gold or silver, or
precious stones, or sumptuous vestments, usually possess the same in greater
abundance. From the creation also, learn to admire thy Lord! And if any
of the things thou seest exceed thy comprehension, and thou art not able
to find the reason thereof, yet for this glorify the Creator, that the
wisdom of these works surpasses thine understanding. Say not, wherefore
is this? or, to what end? for everything is useful, even if we know not
the reason of it. As therefore, if thou goest into a surgery, and seest
many instruments lying before thee, thou wonderest at the variety of the
implements though ignorant of their use; so also act with respect to the
creation. Although thou seest many of the animals, and of the herbs, and
plants, and other things, of which thou knowest not the use, admire the
variety of these; and feel astonishment for this reason at the perfect
workmanship of God; that He hath neither made all things manifest to thee,
nor permitted all things to be unknown. For He hath not permitted all things
to be unknown, lest thou shouldest say, that the things that exist are
not of providence. He hath not permitted all things to be known to thee,
lest the greatness of thy knowledge should excite thee to pride. Thus at
least it was that the evil demon precipitated(1) the first man headlong
and by means of the hope of greater knowledge, deprived him of that he
already possessed. Therefore also, a certain wise man exhorts, saying,
"Seek not out the things that are too hard for thee; neither search the
things that are too deep for thee. But what is commanded thee, think thereupon
with reverence; for the greater part of His works are done in secret."(2)
And again; "More things are shewed unto thee than men understand." But
this he speaks for the purpose of consoling the man who is sad and vexed,
because he does not know all things; for even those things he observes,
which thou art permitted to know, greatly surpass thine understanding;
for thou couldest not have found them by thyself, but thou hast been taught
them of God. Wherefore be content with the wealth given thee, and do not
seek more; but for what thou hast received give thanks; and do not be angry
on account of those things which thou hast not received. And, for what
thou knowest, give glory, and do not stumble at those things of which thou
art ignorant. For God hath made both alike profitably; and hath revealed
some things, but hidden others, providing for thy safety.
8. One mode, then, of knowing God, is that by the
creation, which I have spoken of, and which might occupy many days. For
in order that we might go over the formation of man only with exactness,
(and I speak of exactness such as is possible to us, not of real exactness;
since many as are the reasons we have already given for the works of creation,
many more of these there are, ineffable, which God who made them knoweth,
for of course we do not know them all); in order then, I say, that we might
take an exact survey of the whole modelling of man; and that we might discover
the skill there is in every member; and examine the distribution and situation
of the sinews, the veins, and the arteries, and the moulding of every other
part; not even a whole year would suffice for such a disquisition.
9. For this reason, here dismissing this subject;
and having given to the laborious and studious an opportunity, by what
has been said, of going over likewise the other parts of Creation; we shall
now direct our discourse to another point which is itself also demonstrative
of God's providence. What then is this second point? It is, that when God
formed man, he implanted within him from the beginning a natural law. And
what then was this natural law? He gave utterance to conscience within
us; and made the knowledge of good things, and of those which are the contrary,
to be self-taught. For we have no need to learn that fornication is an
evil thing, and that chastity is a good thing, but we know this from the
first. And that you may learn that we know this from the first, the Lawgiver,(3)
when He afterwards gave laws, and said, "Thou shalt not kill,"(4) did not
add, "since murder is an evil thing," but simply said, "Thou shall not
kill;" for He merely prohibited the sin, without teaching. How was it then
when He said, "Thou shalt not kill," that He did not add, "because murder
is a wicked thing." The reason was, that conscience had taught this beforehand;
and He speaks thus, as to those who know and understand the point. Wherefore
when He speaks to us of another commandment, not known to us by the dictate
of consciences He not only prohibits, but adds the reason. When, for instance,
He gave commandment
422
respecting the Sabbath; "On the seventh day thou shalt do no work;"
He subjoined also the reason for this cessation. What was this? "Because
on the seventh day God rested from all His works which He had begun to
make."(1) And again; "Because thou weft a servant in the land of Egypt."(2)
For what purpose then I ask did He add a reason respecting the Sabbath,
but did no such thing in regard to murder? Because this commandment was
not one of the leading ones. It was not one of those which were accurately
defined of our conscience, but a kind of partial and temporary one; and
for this reason it was abolished afterwards.(3) But those which are necessary
and uphold our life, are the following; "Thou shalt not kill; Thou shalt
not commit adultery; Thou shalt not steal." On this account then He adds
no reason in this case, nor enters into any instruction on the matter,
but is content with the bare prohibition.
10. And not only from thence, but from another consideration
also, I will endeavour to shew you how man was self-taught with respect
to the knowledge of virtue. Adam sinned the first sin; and after the sin
straightway hid himself; but if he had not known he had been doing something
wrong, why did he hide himself? For then there were neither letters, nor
law, nor Moses. Whence then doth he recognise the sin, and hide himself?
Yet not only does he so hide himself, but when called to account, he endeavours
to lay the blame on another, saying, "The woman, whom Thou gavest me, she
gave me of the tree, and I did eat." And that woman again transfers the
accusation to another, viz. the serpent. Observe also the wisdom of God;
for when Adam said, "I heard Thy voice, and I was afraid, for I was naked,
and I hid myself,"(4) God does not at once convict him of what he had done,
nor say, "Why hast thou eaten of the tree?" But how? "Who told thee," He
asks, "that thou wast naked, unless thou hast eaten of that Tree of which
alone I commanded thee not to eat?" He did not keep silence, nor did He
openly convict him. He did not keep silence, that He might call him forth
to the confession of his crime. He did not convict him openly, lest the
whole might come from Himself, and the man should so be deprived of that
pardon which is granted us from confession.(5) Therefore he did not declare
openly the cause from whence this knowledge sprung, but he carried on the
discourse in the form of interrogation, leaving the man himself to come
to the confession.
11. Again, in the case of Cain and Abel, the same
proceeding is observable. For, in the first place, they set apart the fruits
of their own labours to God. For we would shew not from his sin only, but
also from his virtue, that man was capable of knowing both these things.
Wherefore that man knew sin to be an evil thing, Adam manifested; and that
he knew that virtue was a good thing, Abel again made evident. For without
having learnt it from any one, without having heard any law promulgated
respecting the first fruits, but having been taught from within, and from
his conscience, he presented that sacrifice. On this account I do not carry
the argument down to a later period; but I bring it to bear upon the time
of these earlier men, when there were as yet no letters, as yet no(6) law,
nor as yet prophets and judges; but Adam only existed with his children;
in order that thou mayest learn, that the knowledge of good and evil had
been previously implanted in their natures. For from whence did Abel learn
that to offer sacrifice was a good thing;(7) that it was good to honour
God, and in all things to give thanks? "Why then?" replies some one, "did
not Cain bring his offering?" This man also did offer sacrifice, but not
in like manner. And from
423
thence again the knowledge of conscience is apparent. For when, envying
him who had been honoured, he deliberated upon murder, he conceals his
crafty determination. And what says he; "Come, let us go forth into the
field."(1) The outward guise was one thing, the pretence of love; the thought
another, the purpose of fratricide. But if he had not known the design
to be a wicked one, why did he conceal it? And again, after the murder
had been perpetrated, being asked of God, "Where is Abel thy brother?"
he answers, "I know not; Am I my brother's keeper?" Wherefore does he deny
the crime? Is it not evidently because he exceedingly condemns himself.
For as his father had hid himself, so also this man denies his guilt, and
after his conviction, again says, "My crime is too great to obtain pardon."(2)
12. But it may be objected, that the Gentile allows
nothing of this sort. Come then, let us discuss this point, and as we have
done with respect to the creation, having carried on the warfare against
these objectors not only by the help of the Scriptures, but of reason,
so also let us now do with respect to conscience. For Paul too, when he
was engaged in controversy with such persons, entered upon this head. What
then is it that they urge? They say, that there is no self-evident law
seated in our consciences; and that God hath not implanted this in our
nature. But if so, whence is it, I ask, that legislators have written those
laws which are among them concerning marriages, concerning murders, concerning
wills, concerning trusts, concerning abstinence from encroachments on one
another, and a thousand other things. For the men now living may perchance
have learned them from their elders;(3) and they from those who were before
them, and these again from those beyond? But from whom did those learn
who were the originators and first enactors of laws among them? Is it not
evident that it was from conscience? For they cannot say, that they held
communication with Moses; or that they heard the prophets. How could it
be so when they were Gentiles? But it is evident that from the very law
which God placed in man when He formed him from the beginning, laws were
laid down, and arts discovered, and all other things. For the arts too
were thus established, their originators having come to the knowledge of
them in a self-taught manner.
13. So also came there to be courts of justice,
and so were penalties defined, as Paul accordingly observes. For since
many of the Gentiles were ready to controvert this, and to say, "How will
God judge mankind who lived before Moses? He did not send a lawgiver; He
did not introduce a law; He commissioned no prophet, nor apostle, nor evangelist;
how then can He call these to account?" Since Paul therefore wished to
prove that they possessed a self taught law; and that they knew clearly
what they ought to do; hear how he speaks; "For when the Gentiles who have
not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these having
not the law, are a law unto themselves; which shew the work of the law
written in their hearts."(4) But how without letters? "Their conscience
also bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accusing, or else
excusing one another. In the day when God shall judge the secrets of men
by Jesus Christ according to my gospel."(5) And again; "As many as have
sinned without law, shall perish without law; and as many as have sinned
in the law, shall be judged by the law."(6) What means, "They shall perish
without law?" The law not accusing them, but their thoughts, and their
conscience; for if they had not a law of conscience, it were not necessary
that they should perish through having done amiss. For how should it be
so if they sinned without a law? but when he says, "without a law," he
does not assert that they had no law, but that they had no written law,
though they had the law of nature. And again; "But glory, honour, and peace,
to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile."(7)
14. But these things he spake in reference to the
early times, before the coming of Christ; and the Gentile he names here
is not an idolater, but one who worshipped God only; unfettered by the
necessity of Judaical observances, (I mean Sabbaths, and circumcision,
and divers purifications,) yet exhibiting all manner of wisdom and piety.(8)
And
424
again, discoursing of such a worshipper, he observes, "Wrath and indignation,
tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the
Jew first, and also of the Gentile."(1) Again he here calls by the name
of Greek one who was free from the observance of Judaic customs. If, then,
he had not heard the law, nor conversed with the Jews, how could there
be wrath, indignation and tribulation against him for working evil? The
reason is, that he possessed a conscience inwardly admonishing him, and
teaching him, and instructing him in all things. Whence is this manifest?
From the way in which he(2) punished others when they did amiss; from the
way in which he laid down laws; from the way in which he set up the tribunals
of justice. With the view of making this more plain, Paul spoke of those
who were living in wickedness. "Who, knowing the ordinance of God, that
they which commit such things are worthy of death, not only do the same,
but also consent with them that practise them."(3) "But from whence," says
some one, "did they know, that it is the will of God, that those who live
in iniquity should be punished with death?" From whence? Why, from the
way in which they judged others who sinned. For if thou deemest not murder
to be a wicked thing, when thou hast gotten a murderer at thy bar, thou
shouldest not punish him. So if thou deemest it not an evil thing to commit
adultery, when the adulterer has fallen into thy hands, release him from
punishment! But if thou recordest laws, and prescribest punishments, and
art a severe judge of the sins of others; what defence canst thou make,
in matters wherein thou thyself doest amiss, by saying that thou art ignorant
what things ought to be done? For suppose that thou and another person
have alike been guilty of adultery. On what account dost thou punish him,
and deem thyself worthy of forgiveness? Since if thou didst not know adultery
to be wickedness, it were not right to punish it in another. But if thou
punishest, and thinkest to escape the punishment thyself, how is it agreeable
to reason that the same offences should not pay the same penalty?
15. This indeed is the very thing which Paul rebukes,
when he says, "And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them which do
such things, and doest the same, that thou shall escape the judgment of
God?"(4) It is not, it cannot be possible; for from the very sentence,
he means, which thou pronouncest upon another, from this sentence God will
then judge thee. For surely thou art not just, and God unjust! But if thou
overlookest not another suffering wrong, how shall God overlook? And if
thou correctest the sins of others, how will not God correct thee? And
though He may not bring the punishment upon thee instantly, be not confident
on that account, but fear the more. So also Paul bade thee, saying, "Despisest
thou the riches of His goodness, and forbearance, and longsuffering, not
knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?"(5) For therefore,
saith he, doth he bear with thee, not that thou mayest become worse, but
that thou mayest repent. But if thou wilt not, this longsuffering becomes
a cause of thy greater punishment; continuing, as thou dost, impenitent.
This, however, is the very thing he means, when he says, "But after thy
hardness and impenitent heart treasurest up to thyself wrath against the
day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. Who will
render to every man according to his deeds."(6) Since, therefore, He rendereth
to every man according to his works; for this reason He both implanted
within us a natural law, and afterwards gave us a written one, in order
that He might demand an account of sins, and that He might crown those
who act rightly. Let us then order our conduct with the utmost care, and
as those who have soon to encounter a fearful tribunal; knowing that we
shall enjoy no pardon, if after a natural as well as written law, and so
much teaching and continual admonition, we neglect our own salvation.
16. I desire then to address you again on the subject
of oaths; but I feel ashamed. For to me, indeed, it is not wearisome both
by day and by night to repeat the same things to you. But I am afraid,
lest, having followed you up so many days, I should seem to condemn you
of great listlessness, that you should require continual admonition respecting
so easy a matter. And I am not only ashamed, but also in fear for you!
for frequent instruction. to those who give heed, is salutary and profitable;
but to those who are listless, it is injurious, and exceedingly perilous;
for the oftener any one hears, the greater punishment does he draw upon
him. self, if he does not practise what is told him. With this accordingly
God reproached the Jews, speaking thus: "I have sent my prophets, rising
up early, and sending them; and even then ye did not hearken."(7) We therefore
do this of our great care for you. But we fear, lest, on that tremendous
Day, this ad-
425
monition and counsel should rise up against you all. For when the point
to be attained is easy, and he whose office it is continually to admonish,
desists not from his task, what defence shall we have to offer? or what
argument will save us from punishment? Tell me, if a sum of money chance
to be due to you, do you not always, when you meet the debtor, remind him
of the loan? Do thou too(1) act thus; and let every one suppose that his
neighbour owes him money, viz., the fulfilling of this precept; and upon
meeting him, let him put him in mind of the payment, knowing that no small
danger lies at our door, whilst we are unmindful of our brethren. For this
cause I too cease not to make mention of these things. For I fear, lest
by any means I should hear it said on that day, "O wicked and slothful
servant, thou oughtest to have put my money to the exchangers."(2) Behold,
however, I have laid it down,(3) not once, or twice, but oftentimes. It
is left then for you to discharge the usury of it. Now the usury of hearing
is the manifestation of it by deeds, for the deposit is the Lord's. Therefore
let us not negligently receive that with which we are entrusted; but let
us keep it with diligence, that we may restore it with much interest on
That Day. For unless thou bring others to the performance of the same good
works, thou shalt hear that voice, which he who buried the talent heard.
But God forbid it should be this! but may you hear that different voice
which Christ uttered, saying to him who had made profit, "Well done, good
and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will
make thee ruler over many things."(4)
17. And this voice we shall hear, if we shew the
same earnestness as he did. And we shall shew this earnestness, if we do
this which I say. When you depart, whilst what you have heard is yet warm
within you, exhort one another! And just as ye each salute at parting,
so let every one go from hence with an admonition, and say to his neighbour,
"Observe and remember that thou keep the commandment;" and thus shall we
assuredly get the mastery. For when friends also dismiss one with such
counsel; and on one's return home, one's wife again admonishes one to the
same effect; and our word keeps its hold on you when alone; we shall soon
shake off this evil habit. I know, indeed, that ye marvel why I am so earnest
respecting this precept. But discharge the duty enjoined, and then I will
tell you. Meanwhile, this I say; that this precept is a divine law; and
it is not safe to transgress it. But if I shall see it rightly performed,
I will speak of another reason? which is not less than this, that ye may
learn that it is with justice I make so much ado about this law. But it
is now time to conclude this address in a prayer. Wherefore, let us all
say in common, "O God, Who willest not the death of a sinner, but that
he should be converted and live; grant that we, having discharged this
and every other precept, may be found worthy so to stand at the tribunal
of Thy Christ, that having enjoyed great boldness, we may attain the kingdom
to Thy glory. For to Thee belongeth glory, together with Thine only begotten
Son, and the Holy Ghost, now and ever, and world without end." Amen.
HOMILY XIII.
A further thanksgiving to God for the change in the late melancholy
aspect of affairs. Reminiscence of those who were dragged away, and punished
because of the sedition. Exposition on the subject of the creation of man,
and of his having received a natural law. Of the complete accomplishment
of abstinence from oaths.
1. WITH the same introduction and prelude that I
began yesterday and the day before, I shall begin to-day. Now again I will
say, "Blessed be God!" What a day did we see last Wednesday!(1) and what
in the present! On that day how heavy was the gloom! How bright the calm
of the present! That was the day when that fearful tribunal was
426
set in the city, and shook the hearts of all, and made the day to seem
no better than night; not because the beams of the sun were extinguished.
but because that despondency and fear darkened your eyes. Wherefore, that
we may reap the more pleasure, I wish to relate a few of the circumstances
which then occurred; for I perceive that a narrative of these things will
be serviceable to you, and to all who shall come afterwards. Besides, to
those who have been delivered from shipwreck, it is sweet to remember the
waves, and the tempest, and the winds, when they are come into port. And
to those who have fallen into sickness, it is an agreeable thing, when
the sickness is over, to talk over with others the fevers by which they
were nearly brought to the grave. When terrors have passed away, there
is a pleasure in relating those terrors; the soul no longer fearing them,
but deriving therefrom more cheerfulness. The remembrance of past evils
always makes the present prosperity to appear more strikingly.
2. When the greater portion of the city had taken
refuge from the fear and danger of that occasion, in secret places, in
deserts, and in hollows;(1) terror besetting them in all directions; and
the houses were empty of women, and the forum of men, and scarce two or
three appeared walking together across it, and even these going about as
if they had been animated corpses: at this period, I proceeded to the tribunal
of justice, for the purpose of seeing the end of these transactions; and
there, beholding the fragments of the city collected together, I marvelled
most of all at this, that although a multitude was around the doors, there
was the profoundest silence, as though there had been no man there, all
looking upon one another; not one daring to enquire of his neighbour, nor
to hear anything from him; for each regarded his neighbour with suspicion;
since many already, having been dragged away, beyond all expectation, from
the midst of the forum, were now confined within. Thus we all alike looked
up to heaven, and stretched out our hands in silence, expecting help from
above, and beseeching God to stand by those who were brought to judgment,
to soften the hearts of the judges, and to make their sentence a merciful
one. And just as when some persons on land, beholding others suffering
shipwreck, cannot indeed go near to them, and reach out the hand, and relieve
their distress, being kept back from them by the waves; yet away on the
shore, with outstretched hands and tears, they supplicate God that He may
help the drowning; so there in like manner, did all silently and mentally
call upon God, pleading for those at the tribunal, as for men surrounded
by the waves, that He would stretch out His hand, and not suffer the vessel
to be overwhelmed, nor the judgment of those under trial to end in an utter
wreck. Such was the state of things in front of the doors; but when I entered
within the court, other sights I saw which were still more awful; soldiers
armed with swords and clubs, and strictly keeping the peace for the judges
within. For since all the relatives of those under trial, whether wives,
or mothers, or daughters, or fathers, stood before the doors of the seat
of justice; in order that if any one happened to be led away to execution,
yet no one inflamed at the sight of the calamity might raise any tumult
or disturbance; the soldiers drove them all afar off; thus preoccupying
their mind with fear.
3. One sight there was, more pitiable than all;
a mother, and a sister of a certain person, who was among those under trial
within, sat at the very vestibule of the court of justice, rolling themselves
on the pavement, and becoming a common spectacle to all the bystanders;
veiling their faces, and shewing no sense of shame, but that which the
urgency of the calamity permitted. No maid servant, nor neighbour, nor
female friend, nor any other relative accompanied them. But hemmed in by
a crowd of soldiers, alone, and meanly clad, and grovelling on the ground,
about the very doors, they were in more pitiable case than those who were
undergoing judgment within, and hearing as they did the voice of the executioners,
the strokes of the scourge, the wailing of those who were being scourged,
the fearful threats of the judges, they themselves endured, at every scourging,
sharper pains than those who were beaten. For since, in the confessions
of others, there was a danger of accusations being proved, if they heard
any one scourged that he might mention those who were guilty, and uttering
cries, they, looking up to heaven, besought God to give the sufferer some
strength of endurance, test the safety of their own relations should be
betrayed by the weakness of others, while incapable of sustaining the sharp
anguish of the strokes. And again, the same thing occurred as in the case
of men who are struggling with a tempest. For just as when they perceive
the violence of a wave lifting up its head from afar, and gradually increasing,
and ready to overwhelm the vessel, they are
427
almost dead with terror, before it comes near the ship; so also was
it with these. If at any time they heard voices, and cries that reached
them, they saw a thousand deaths before their eyes, being in terror, lest
those who were urged to bear witness, giving way to their torments, should
name some one of those who were their own relatives. And thus, one saw
tortures both within and without. Those within the executioners were tormenting;
these women, the despotic force of nature, and the sympathy of the affections.
There was lamentation within, and without! inside, on the part of those
who were found guilty, and outside on the part of their relatives. Yea,
rather not these only, but their very judges inwardly lamented, and suffered
more severely than all the rest; being compelled to take part in so bitter
a tragedy.
4. As for me, while I sat and beheld all this, how
matrons and virgins, wont to live in seclusion, were now made a common
spectacle to all; and how those who were accustomed to lie on a soft couch,
had now the pavement for their bed; and how they who had enjoyed so constant
an attendance of female servants and eunuchs, and every sort of outward
distinction, were now bereft of all these things; and grovelling at the
feet of every one, beseeching him to lend help by any means in his power
to those who were undergoing examination, and that there might be a kind
of general contribution of mercy from all; I exclaimed, in those words
of Solomon, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."(1) For I saw both this
and another oracle fulfilled in every deed, which saith, "All the glory
of man is as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower falleth
away."(2) For then indeed, wealth, and nobility, and notoriety, and the
patronage of friends, and kinship and all worldly things, were found worthless;
the sin, and transgression of the law which had taken place, having put
all these succours to flight. And just as the mother of young birds, when
the nestlings have been carried away, coming and finding her nest empty,
is unable to rescue her captive brood; but by hovering around the hands
of the fowler, in this way displays her grief; even so did these women
then do, when their children were snatched away from their dwellings, and
shut up within, as it were in a net, or a trap. They could not indeed come
in and deliver the prisoners, but they manifested their anguish by wallowing
on the ground near the very doors; by lamentation and groans; and by endeavouring
to approach as near as possible to those who had captured them. These things
then beholding, I cast in my mind That Dread Tribunal; and I said within
myself, "If now, when men are the judges, neither mother, nor sister, nor
father, nor any other person, though guiltless of the deeds which have
been perpetrated, can avail to rescue the criminals; who will stand by
us when we are judged at the dread Tribunal of Christ? Who will dare to
raise his voice? Who will be able to rescue those who shall be led away
to those unbearable punishments. Notwithstanding they were the first men
of the city who were then brought to trial, and the very chief of the nobility,
yet they would have been glad if it could be granted them to lose all their
possessions, yea, if need were, their liberty itself, so that they might
continue to enjoy this present life.
5. But to proceed. The day now hastening to its
close, and late(3) evening arriving, and the final sentence of the court
being expected, all were in still greater agony, and besought God that
He would grant some delay and respite; and incline the soul of the judges
to refer the facts that had been investigated to the decision of the Emperor;
since perchance some advantage might arise from this reference? Moreover,
by the people general supplications(5) were sent up to the Merciful God;
imploring that He would save the remnants of the city; and not suffer it
entirely to be razed from its foundations. Nor could one see any one joining
in this cry but with tears. Nevertheless, none of these things then moved
the judges within, although they heard. One thing only they considered,
that there might be a rigid enquiry into the deeds that had been perpetrated.
6. At last having loaded the culprits with chains,
and bound them with iron, they sent them away to the prison through the
midst of the forum. Men that had kept their studs of horses, who had been
presidents of the games,(6) who could reckon up a thousand different offices
of distinction which they had held, had their goods confiscated, and seals
might be seen placed upon all their doors.
428
Their wives also being ejected from their parents' home, each had literally
to play the part of Job's wife. For they went "wandering(1) from house
to house and from place to place, seeking a lodging."(2) And this it was
not easy for them to find, every one fearing and trembling to receive,
or to render assistance in any way to the relatives of those who were under
impeachment. Nevertheless, though such events had happened, the sufferers
were patient under all; since they were not deprived of the present life.
And neither the loss of wealth, nor dishonour, nor so much public exposure,
nor any other matter of that nature, caused them vexation. For the greatness
of the calamity, and the circumstance of their having expected still worse
things, when they suffered these, had prepared the soul for the exercise
of a wise fortitude. And now they learnt, how simple a thing is virtue
for us, how easy and expeditious of performance, and that from our neglect
only it seems to be laborious. They who before this time could not bear
the loss of a little money with meekness, now they were subject to a greater
fear, although they had lost all their substance, felt as if they had found
a treasure, because they had not lost their lives. So that if the sense
of a future hell took possession of us, and we thought of those intolerable
punishments, we should not grieve, even though for the sake of the law
of God we were to give both our substance, and our bodies and lives too,
knowing that we should gain greater things; deliverance from the terrors
that are hereafter.
7. Perchance the tragedy of all I have told you,
has greatly softened your hearts. Do not however take it amiss. For since
I am about to venture upon some more subtle thoughts and require a more
sensitive state of mind on your part, I have done this intentionally, in
order that by the terror of the description your minds might have shaken
off all listlessness, and withdrawn themselves from all worldly cares,
and might with the more readiness convey the force of the things about
to be spoken into the depths of your soul.
Sufficiently indeed, then, our discourse of late(3)
evinced to you, that a natural law of good and evil is seated within us.
But that our proof of it may be more abundantly evident, we will again
to-day apply ourselves strenuously to the same subject of discourse. For
that God from the beginning, when He formed man, made him capable of discriminating
both these, all men make evident. Hence when we sin, we are all ashamed
at the presence of our inferiors; and oftentimes a master, on his way to
the house of a harlot, if he then perceives any one of his more respectable
servants, turns back, reddening with shame, from this untoward path. Again,
when others reproach us, fixing on us the names of particular vices, we
call it an insult; and if we are aggrieved, we drag those who have done
the wrong to the public tribunal. Thus we can understand what vice is and
what virtue is. Wherefore Christ, for the purpose of declaring this, and
shewing that He was not introducing a strange law, or one which surpassed
our nature, but that which He had of old deposited beforehand in our conscience,
after pronouncing those numerous Beatitudes, thus speaks; "All things whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them."(4) "Many words,"
saith He, "are not necessary, nor laws of great length, nor a diversity
of instruction. Let thine own will be the law. Dost thou wish to receive
kindness? Be kind to another. Dost thou wish to receive mercy? Show mercy
to thy neighbour. Dost thou wish to be applauded? Applaud another. Dost
thou wish to be beloved? Exercise love. Dost thou wish to enjoy the first
rank? First concede that place to another. Become thyself the judge, thyself
the lawgiver of thine own life. And again; "Do not to another what thou
hatest."(5) By the latter precept, he would induce to a departure from
iniquity; by the former, to the exercise of virtue. "Do not thou to another,"
he saith,(6) "what thou hatest." Dost thou hate to be insulted? Do not
insult another. Dost thou hate to be envied? Envy not another. Dost thou
hate to be deceived? Do not deceive another. And, in a word, in all things,
if we hold fast these two precepts, we shall not need any other instruction.
For the knowledge of virtue He hath implanted in our nature; but the practice
of it and the correction He hath entrusted to our moral choice.(7)
8. Perhaps what is thus said, is obscure; wherefore
I will again endeavour to make it more plain. In order to know that it
is a good thing to exercise temperance, we need
429
no words, nor instruction; for we ourselves have the knowledge of it
in our nature, and there is no necessity for labour or fatigue in going
about and enquiring whether temperance is good and profitable; but we all
acknowledge this with one consent, and no man is in doubt as to this virtue.
So also we account adultery to be an evil thing, and neither is there here
any need of trouble or learning, that the wickedness of this sin may be
known; but we are all self-taught in such judgments; and we applaud virtue,
though we do not follow it; as, on the other hand, we hate vice, though
we practise it. And this hath been an exceeding good work of God; that
He hath made our conscience, and our power of choice already, and before
the action, claim kindred with virtue, and be at enmity with wickedness.
9. As I said then, the knowledge of each of these
things resides within the conscience of all men, and we require no teacher
to instruct us in these things; but the regulation of our conduct is left
to our choice, and earnestness, and efforts. And why was this? but because
if He had made everything to be of nature, we should have departed uncrowned
and destitute of reward; and even as the brutes, who receive no reward
nor praise for those advantages which they have naturally, so neither should
we enjoy any of these things; for natural advantages are not the praise
and commendation of those who have them, but of the Giver. For this reason,
then, He did not commit all to nature; and again, He did not suffer our
will to undertake the whole burden of knowledge, and of right regulation;
test it should despair at the labour of virtue. But conscience suggests
to it what ought to be done; and it contributes its own exertions for the
accomplishment. That it is a good thing to be temperate, we all understand
without difficulty; for the knowledge is of nature: but we should not be
able without difficulty, without bridling lust, and employing much exertion,
to practise the rule of temperance; for this does not come to us by nature
as the knowledge does, but requires also a willing mind and earnestness.
And not only in this respect has He made the burden lighter for us, but
also in another way again, by letting even some good dispositions exist
naturally within us. For we are all naturally disposed to feel indignation
along with those who are contemptuously treated, (whence it arises that
we become the enemies of those who are insolent, though we ourselves may
have suffered no part of the grievance,) and to sympathize in the pleasure
of those who enjoy assistance and protection; and we are overcome by the
calamities of others, as well as by mutual tenderness.(1) For although
calamitous events may seem to induce a certain pusillanimity,(2) we entertain
nevertheless a common fondness for each other. And to this effect a certain
wise man speaks significantly; "Every animal loveth his like, and man his
neighbour."(3)
10. But God hath provided many other instructors
for us besides conscience; viz., fathers for children, masters for servants,
husbands for wives, teachers for pupils, law-givers and judges for those
who are to be governed, and friends for friends. And frequently too we
gain no less from enemies than friends; for when the former reproach us
with our offences, they stir us up, even against our will, to the amendment
of them. So many teachers hath He set over us, in order that the discovery
of what is profitable, and the regulation of our conduct, might be easy
to us, the multitude of those things which urge us on toward it not permitting
us to fall away from what is expedient for us. For although we should despise
parents, yet while we fear magistrates, we shall in any case be more submissive
than otherwise. And though we may set them at nought(4) when we sin, we
can never escape the rebuke of conscience: and if we dishonour and repel
this, yet whilst fearing the opinion of the many, we shall be the better
for it. And though we are destitute of shame with regard to this, the fear
of the laws will press on us so as to restrain us, however reluctantly.
11. Thus fathers and teachers take the young in
hand, and bring them into order;(5) and lawgivers and magistrates, those
who are grown up. And servants, as being more inclined to listlessness,
in addition to what has been previously mentioned, have their masters to
constrain them to temperance; and wives have their husbands. And many are
the walls which environ our race on all sides, lest it should too easily
slide away, and fall into wickedness. Beside all these too; sicknesses
and calamities instruct us. For poverty restrains, and losses sober us,
and danger subdues us, and there are many other things of this sort. Doth
neither father, nor teacher, nor prince, nor lawgiver, nor judge
430
make thee fear? Doth no friend move thee to shame, nor enemy sting thee?
Doth no master chastise? Doth no husband instruct? Doth no conscience correct
thee? Still, when bodily sickness comes, it often sets all right; and a
loss has made the audacious man to become gentle. And what is more than
this, heavy misfortunes, which befal not only ourselves but others too,
are often of great advantage to us; and we who ourselves suffered nothing,
yet beholding others enduring punishment, have been no less sobered by
it than they.
12. And with respect to right deeds, any one may
see that this happens; for as when the bad are punished others become better,
so whenever the good achieve any thing right, many are urged onward to
a similar zeal: a thing which hath also taken place with respect to the
avoiding of oaths. For many persons, observing that others had laid aside
the evil practice of oaths, took a pattern from their diligence, and got
the better of the sin; wherefore we are the more disposed to touch again
on the subject of this admonition. For let no one tell me that "many" have
accomplished this; this is not what is desired, but that "all" should do
so; and until I see this I cannot take breath.(1) That Shepherd had a hundred
sheep, and vet when one of them had wandered away, he took no account of
the safety of the ninety and nine, until he found the one that was lost,
and restored it again to the flock.(2) Seest thou not that this also happens
with respect to the body; for if by striking against any obstacle, we have
only turned back a nail, the whole body sympathizes with the member. Say
not this; that only a certain few have failed; but consider this point,
that these few being unreformed, will corrupt many others. Although there
was but one who had committed fornication among the Corinthians, yet Paul
so groaned as if the whole city were lost. And very reasonably, for he
knew that if that member were not chastened, the disease progressing onward
would at length attack all the rest. I saw, but lately, in the court of
justice, those distinguished men bound and conducted through the forum;
and while some were wondering at this extraordinary degradation, others
said there was nothing to wonder at; for that, where there is matter of
treason,(3) rank must go for nothing. Is it not then much more true that
rank must be of no avail where is impiety?
13. Thinking therefore of these things, let us arouse
ourselves; for if ye bring not your own endeavours to the task, every thing
on our part is to no purpose. And why so? Because it is not with the office
of teaching, as it is with other arts. For the silversmith, when he has
fabricated a vessel of any kind, and laid it aside, will find it on the
morrow just as he left it. And the worker in brass, and the stone-cutter,
and every other artificer, will each again take his own work in hand, whatever
it is, just in the state he quitted it. But it is not so with us, but altogether
the reverse; for we have not lifeless vessels to forge, but reasonable
souls. Therefore we do not find you such as we leave you, but when we have
taken you, and with manifold labour moulded, reformed you and increased
your ardour on your departing from this place, the urgency of business,
besetting you on every side, again perverts you, and causes us increased
difficulty. Therefore, I supplicate and beseech you to put your own hand
to the work; and when ye depart hence, to shew the same earnest regard
for your own safety, that I have here shewn for your amendment.
14. Oh! that it were possible that I could perform
good works as your substitute, and that you could receive the rewards of
those works! Then I would not give you so much trouble. But how can I do
this? The thing is impossible; for to every man will He render according
to his own works. Wherefore as a mother, when she beholds her son in a
fever, while she witnesses his sufferings(4) from choking and inflammation,
frequently bewails him, and says to him, "O my son, would that I could
sustain thy fever, and draw off its flame upon myself!" so now I say, Oh!
that by labouring as your substitute, I could do good works for you all!
But no, this is not to be done. But of his own doings must each man give
the account, and one cannot see one person suffer punishment in the room
of another. For this reason I am pained and mourn, that on That Day, when
ye are called to judgment, I shall not be able to assist you, since, to
say the truth, no such confidence of speech with God belongs to me. But
even if I had much confidence, I am not holier than Moses, or more righteous
than Samuel; of whom it is said, that though they had attained to so great
virtue, they could not in any way avail to assist the Jews; inasmuch as
that people had given themselves over to excessive negligence.(5) Since,
then, from our own works we shall be
431
punished or saved; let us endeavour, I beseech you, in conjunction with all the other precepts, to fulfill this one; that, finally departing this life with a favourable hope, we may obtain those good things which are promised, through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom and with Whom, to the Father, with the Holy Ghost, be glory both now and ever, world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XIV.
After the whole people had been freed from all distress, and had become
assured of safety, certain persons again disturbed the city by fabricating
false reports, and were convicted. Wherefore this Homily refers to that
subject; and also to the admonition concerning oaths; for which reason
also, the history of Jonathan, and Saul, and that of Jephthah, is brought
forward; and it is shewn how many perjuries result from one oath.
1. NOT a little did the devil yesterday disturb
our city; but God also hath not a little comforted us again; so that each
one of us may seasonably take up that prophetic saying, "In the multitude
of the sorrows that I had in my heart, thy comforts have refreshed my soul."(1)
And not only in consoling, but Even in permitting us to be troubled, God
hath manifested His tender care towards us. For to-day I shall repeat what
I have never ceased to say, that not only our deliverance from evils, but
also the permission of them arises from the benevolence of God. For when
He sees us falling away into listlessness, and starting off from communion
with Him, and making no account of spiritual things, He leaves us for a
while; that thus brought to soberness, we may return to Him the more earnestly.
And what marvel is it, if He does this towards us, listless as we are;
since even Paul declares that with regard to himself and his disciples,
this was the cause of their trials? For inditing his second Epistle to
the Corinthians, he speaks thus: "We would not, brethren, have you ignorant
of our trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed out of measure,
above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life; but we had the
sentence of death in ourselves."(2) As though he would say, "Dangers so
great hung over us, that we gave up ourselves for lost; and no longer hoped
that any favourable change would take place, but were altogether in expectation
of death." For such is the sense of that clause, "We had the sentence of
death in ourselves." But nevertheless, after such a state of desperation,
God dispelled the tempest, and removed the cloud, and snatched us from
the very gates of death. And afterwards, for the purpose of shewing that
his being permitted to fall into this danger also was the result of much
tender care for him, he mentions the advantage which resulted from the
temptations. which was, that he might continually look to Him, and be neither
high-minded, nor confident. Therefore having said this, "We had the sentence
of death in ourselves;"(3) he adds also the reason; "That we should not
trust in ourselves, but in God which quickeneth the dead." For it is in
the nature of trials to arouse us when we are dozing, or falling down,
and to stir us up, and make us more religious. When, therefore, O beloved!
thou seest a trial at one time extinguished, and at another time kindled
again, be not cast down! Do not despond, but retain a favourable hope,
reasoning thus with thyself, that God does not deliver us into the hands
of our enemies either because He hates or abandons us, but because He is
desirous to make us more in earnest, and more intimate with Himself.
2. Let us not then be desponding; nor let us despair
of a change for the better; but let us hope that speedily there will be
a calm; and, in short, casting the issue of all the tumults which beset
us upon God, let us again handle the customary points; and again bring
forward our usual topic of instruction. For I am desirous to discourse
to you further concerning the same subject, to the end that we may radically
extirpate from your souls the wicked practice of oaths. Wherefore it is
necessary for me again to have recourse to the same entreaty that I made
before. For
432
lately I besought you, that each one taking the head of John, just cut
off, and the warm blood yet dripping from it, you would thus go home, and
think that you saw it before your eyes, while it emitted a voice, and said,
"Abhor my murderer, the oath!" What a rebuke did not effect, this an oath
effected what a tyrant's wrath was insufficient for, this the necessity
of keeping an oath brought about! And when the tyrant was publicly rebuked
in the hearing of all, he bore the censure nobly; but when he had thrown
himself into the fatal necessity caused by oaths, then he cut off that
blessed head. This same thing, therefore, I entreat; and cease not entreating,
that wherever we go, we go bearing this head; and that we shew it to all,
crying aloud, as it does, and denouncing oaths. For although we were never
so listless and remiss, yet beholding the eyes of that head fearfully glaring
upon us, and threatening us if we swear, we should be more powerfully kept
in check by this terror, than by any curb; and be easily able to restrain
and avert the tongue from its inclination toward oaths.
3. There is not only this great evil in an oath,
that it punishes those who are guilty of it, both when violated, and when
kept; a thing we do not see take place with any other sin; but there is
another equally great evil attending it. And what is that? Why that ofttimes
it is utterly impossible even for those who are desirous, and even make
a point of it, to keep their oath. For, in the first place, he who is continually
swearing, whether willingly or unwillingly; knowingly or unknowingly; in
jest or in earnest; being frequently carried away by anger and by many
other things, will most surely become perjured. And no one can gainsay
this; so evident and generally allowed is the fact, that the man who swears
frequently, must also be a perjurer. Secondly, I affirm, that although
he were not carried away by passion, and did not become the victim of perjury(1)
unwillingly and unwittingly, yet by the very nature of the case he will
assuredly be necessitated both consciously and voluntarily to perjure himself.
Thus, oftentimes when we are dining at home, and one of the servants happens
to do amiss, the wife swears that he shall be flogged, and then the husband
swears the contrary, resisting, and not permitting it. In this case, whatever
they may do, perjury must in any case be the result; for however much they
may wish and endeavour to keep their oaths, it is no longer possible; but
whatever happens, one or other of these will be ensnared in perjury; or
rather both in any case.
4. And how, I will explain; for this is the paradox.
He who hath sworn that he would flog the man-servant or maid-servant, yet
hath afterwards been prohibited from this, hath perjured himself, not having
done what he hath sworn to do: and also, he hath involved in the crime
of perjury the party forbidding and hindering the oath from being kept.
For not only they who take a false oath, but they who impose that necessity
on others, are liable to the same accusation. And not merely in houses,
but also in the forum we may see that this takes place; and especially
in fights, when those who box with one another swear things that are contrary.
One swears that he will beat, the other that he will not be beaten. One
swears that he will carry off the cloak, the other that he will not suffer
this. One that he will exact the money, the other that he will not pay
it. And many other such contradictory things, those who are contentious
take an oath to do. So also in shops, and in schools, it may generally
be observed that the same thing occurs. Thus the workman hath often sworn
that he will not suffer his apprentice(2) to eat or drink, before he has
finished all his assigned task. And so also the pedagogue has often acted
towards a youth; and a mistress towards her maid-servant; and when the
evening hath overtaken them, and the work hath remained unfinished, it
is necessary either that those who have not executed their task should
perish with hunger, or that those who have sworn should altogether forswear
themselves. For that malignant demon, who is always lying in wait against
our blessings, being present and hearing the obligation of the oaths, impels
those who are answerable to indifference; or works some other difficulty;
so that the task being unperformed, blows, insults, and perjuries, and
a thousand other evils, may take place. And just as when children drag
with all their might a long and rotten cord in directions opposite to each
other; if the cord snaps in the middle, they all fall flat upon their backs,
and some strike their heads, and some another part of the body; so also
they who each engage with an oath to perform things that are contrary,
when the oath is broken by the necessity of the case, both parties fall
into the same gulf of perjury: these by actually perjuring themselves,
and those by affording the occasion of perjury to. the others.
5. That this also may be rendered evident,
433
not only from what happens every day in private houses, and the places
of public concourse, but from the Scriptures themselves, I will relate
to you a piece of ancient history, which bears upon what has been said.
Once, when the Jews had been invaded by their enemies, and Jonathan (now
he was the son of Saul) had slaughtered some, and put the rest to flight;
Saul, his lather, being desirous to rouse the army more effectually against
the remainder; and in order that they might not desist until he had subjugated
them all, did that which was altogether opposite to what he desired, by
swearing that no one should eat any food until evening, and until vengeance
was taken of his enemies. What, I ask, could have been more senseless than
this? For when it was needful that he should have refreshed those who were
fatigued and exhausted, and have sent them forth with renewed vigour against
their enemies, he treated them far worse than he had done their enemies,
by the constraint of an oath, which delivered them over to excessive hunger.
Dangerous, indeed, it is for any one to swear in a matter pertaining to
himself; for we are forcibly impelled to do many things by the urgency
of circumstances. But much more dangerous is it by the obligation of one's
own oath, to bind the determination of others; and especially where any
one swears, not concerning one, or two, or three, but an unlimited multitude,
which Saul then inconsiderately did, without thinking that it was probable
that, in so vast a number, one at least might transgress the oath; or that
soldiers, and soldiers too on campaign, are very far removed from moral
wisdom, and know nothing of ruling the belly; more especially when their
fatigue is great. He, however, overlooking all these points, as if he were
merely taking an oath about a single servant, whom he was easily able to
restrain, counted equally on his whole army. In consequence of this he
opened such a door for the devil, that in a short time he framed, not two,
three, or four, but many more perjuries out of this oath. For as when we
do not swear at all, we close the whole entrance against him, so if we
utter but a single oath, we afford him great liberty for constructing endless
perjuries. And just as those who twist skeins, if they have one to hold
the end, work the whole string with nicety, but if there is no one to do
this, cannot even undertake the commencement of it; in the same manner
too the devil, when about to twist the skein of our sins, if he could not
get the beginning from our tongues, would not be able to undertake the
work; but should we only make a commencement, while we hold the oath on
our tongue, as it were a hand, then with full liberty he manifests his
malignant art in the rest of the work, constructing and weaving from a
single oath a thousand perjuries.
6. And this was just what he did now in the case
of Saul. Observe, however, what a snare is immediately framed for this
oath: "The army passed through a wood, that contained a nest of bees, and
the nest was in front of the people,(1) and the people came upon the nest,
and went along talking."(2) Seest thou what a pit-fall was here? A table
ready spread, that the easiness of access, the sweetness of the food, and
the hope of concealment, might entice them to a transgression of the oath.
For hunger at once, and fatigue, and the hour, (for "all the lands" it
is said, "was dining),"(3) then urged them to the transgression. Moreover,
the sight of the combs invited them from without to relax the strain on
their resolution. For the sweetness, as well as the present readiness of
the table, and the difficulty of detecting the stealth, were sufficient
to ensnare their utmost wisdom. If it had been flesh, which needed boiling
or roasting, their minds would not have been so much bewitched; since while
they were delaying in the cookery of these, and engaged in preparing them
for food, they might expect to be discovered. But now there was nothing
of this kind; there was honey only, for which no such labour was required,
and for which the dipping of the tip of the finger sufficed to partake
of the table, and that with secresy. Nevertheless, these persons restrained
their appetite, and did not say within themselves, "What does it concern
us? Hath any one of us sworn this? He may pay the penalty of his inconsiderate
oath, for why did he swear?" Nothing of this sort did they think; but religiously
passed on; and though there were so many enticements, they behaved themselves
wisely. "The people went on talking."(4) "What is the meaning of this word
"talking?" Why, that for the purpose of soothing their pain with words,
they held discourse with one another.
7. What then, did nothing more come of
434
this, when all the people had acted so wisely? Was the oath, forsooth,
observed? Not even so was it observed. On the contrary, it was violated!
How, and in what way? Ye shall hear forthwith, in order that ye may also
thoroughly discern the whole art of the devil. For Jonathan, not having
heard his father take the oath, "put forth the end of the rod that was
in his hand, and dipped it in the honeycomb, and his eyes saw clearly."(1)
Observe, who it was whom he impelled to break the oath; not one of the
soldiers, but the very son of him who had sworn it. For he did not only
desire to effect perjury, but was also plotting the slaughter of a son,
and making provision for it beforehand; and was in haste to divide nature
against her own self. and what he had done aforetime in the case of Jephthah,
that he hoped now again to accomplish. For he likewise, when he had promised
that the first thing that met him, after a victorious battle. he would
sacrifice,(2) fell into the snare of child-murder; for his daughter first
meeting him, he sacrificed her and God did not forbid it. And I know, indeed,
that many of the unbelievers impugn us of cruelty and inhumanity on account
of this sacrifice; but I should say, that the concession(3) in the case
of this sacrifice was a striking example of providence and clemency; and
that it was in care for our race that He did not prevent that sacrifice.
For if after that vow and promise He had forbidden the sacrifice, many
also who were subsequent to Jephthah, in the expectation that God would
not receive their vows, would have increased the number of such vows,
and proceeding on their way would have fallen into child-murder. But now,
by suffering this vow to be actually fulfilled,(4) He put a stop to all
such cases in future. And to shew that this is true, after Jephthah's daughter
had been slain, in order that the calamity might be always remembered,
and that her fate might not be consigned to oblivion, it became a law among
the Jews, that the virgins assembling at the same season should bewail
during fortys days the sacrifice which had taken place; in order that renewing
the memory of it by lamentation, they should make all men wiser for the
future; and that they might learn that it was not after the mind of God
that this should be done, for in that case He would not have permitted
the virgins to bewail and lament her. And that what I have said is not
conjectural, the event demonstrated; for after this sacrifice, no one vowed
such a vow unto God. Therefore also He did not indeed forbid this; but
what He had expressly enjoined in the case of Isaac, that He directly prohibited;(6)
plainly shewing through both cases, that He doth not delight in such sacrifices.
8. But the malignant demon was labouring hard now
again to produce such a tragedy. Therefore he impelled Jonathan to the
trespass. For if any one of the soldiers had transgressed the law, it seemed
to him no great evil that would have been done; but now being insatiate
of human ills, and never able to get his fill of our calamities, he thought
it would be no grand exploit if he effected only a simple murder. And if
he could not also pollute the king's right hand with the murder of his
child, he considered that he had achieved no great matter. And why do I
speak of child-murder? For he, the wicked one, thought that by this means
he should compass a slaughter even more accursed than that. For if he had
sinned wittingly, and been sacrificed, this would only have been child-murder;
but now sinning ignorantly, (for he had not heard of the oath), if he had
been slain, he would have made the anguish of his father double; for he
would have had both to sacrifice a son, and a son who had done no wrong.
But now to proceed with the rest of the history; "When he had eaten," it
is said, "His eyes saw clearly."(7) And here it condemns the king of great
folly; shewing that hunger had almost blinded the whole army, and diffused
much darkness over their eyes. Afterwards some one of the soldiers, perceiving
the action, saith, "Thy father sware an oath upon all the people, saying,
cursed be the man who eateth any food to-day. And the people were faint.
And Jonathan said, My father hath made away(8) with the land."(9) What
does he mean by the word, "made away with?" Why, that he had ruined, or
destroyed them all. Hence, when the oath was transgressed, all kept silence,
and no one dared to bring forth the criminal; and this became afterwards
no small matter of blame, for not only are those who break an oath, but
those also who are privy to it and conceal it, partakers of the crime.
9. But let us see what follows; "And Saul said,
Let us go down after the strangers,(10) and spoil them. And the priest
said, Let us
435
draw near hither unto God."(1) For in old times God led forth the people
to battle; and without His consent no one dared to engage in the fight,
and war was with them a matter of religion. For not from weakness of body,
but from their sins they were conquered, whenever they were conquered;
and not by might and courage, but by favour from above they prevailed,
whenever they did prevail. Victory and defeat were also to them a means
of training, and a school of virtue. And not to them only, but to their
adversaries; for this was made evident to them too, that the fate of battle
with the Jews was decided not by the nature of their arms, but by the life
and good works of the warriors. The Midianites at least perceiving this,
and knowing that people to be invincible, and that to have attacked them
with arms and engines of war would have been fruitless, and that it was
only possible to conquer them by sin, having decked out handsome virgins,
and set them in the array,(2) excited the soldiers to lasciviousness, endeavouring
by means of fornication to deprive them of God's assistance; which accordingly
happened. For when they had fallen into sin, they became an easy prey to
all; and those whom weapons, and horses, and soldiers, and so many engines
availed not to capture,(3) sin by its nature delivered over bound to their
enemies. Shields, and spears, and darts were all alike found useless; but
beauty of visage and wantonness of soul overpowered these brave men.
10. Therefore one gives this admonition; "Observe
not the beauty of a strange woman, and meet not a woman addicted to fornication.(4)
For honey distils from the lips of an harlot, which at the time may seem
smooth to thy throat, but afterward thou wilt find it more bitter than
gall, and sharper than a two-edged sword."(5) For the harlot knows not
how to love, but only to ensnare; her kiss hath poison, and her mouth a
pernicious drug. And if this does not immediately appear, it is the more
necessary to avoid her on that account, because she veils that destruction,
and keeps that death concealed, and suffers it not to become manifest at
the first. So that if any one pursues pleasure, and a life full of gladness,
let him avoid the society of fornicating women, for they fill the minds
of their lovers with a thousand conflicts and tumults, setting in motion
against them continual strifes and contentions, by means of their words,
and all their actions. And just as it is with those who are the most virulent
enemies, so the object of their actions and schemes is to plunge their
lovers into shame and poverty, and the worst extremities. And in the same
manner as hunters, when they have spread out their nets, endeavour to drive
thither the wild animals, in order that they may put them to death, so
also is it with these women. When they have spread out on every side the
wings(6) of lasciviousness by means of the eyes, and dress, and language,
they afterwards drive in their lovers, and bind them; nor do they give
over until they have drunk up their blood, insulting them at last, and
mocking their folly, and pouring over them a flood of ridicule. And indeed
such a man is no longer worthy of compassion but deserves to be derided
and jeered, since he is found more irrational than a woman, and a harlot
besides. Therefore the Wise Man gives this word of exhortation again, "Drink
waters from thine own cistern, and from the fountain of thine own well."(7)
And again; "Let the hind of thy friendship, and the foal of thy favours,
consort with thee."(8) These things he speaks of a wife associated with
her husband by the law of marriage. Why leavest thou her who is a helpmate,
to run to one who is a plotter against thee? Why dost thou turn away from
her who is the partner of thy living, and court her who would subvert thy
life? The one is thy member and body, the other is a sharp sword. Therefore,
beloved, flee fornication; both for its present evils, and for its future
punishment.
11. Perchance we may seem to have fallen aside from
the subject; but to say thus much, is no departure from it. For we do not
wish to read you histories merely for their own sake, but that you may
correct each of the passions which trouble you: therefore also we make
these frequent appeals,(9) preparing our discourse for you in all varieties
of style; since it is probable that in so large an assembly, there is a
great variety of distempers; and our task is to cure not one only, but
many different wounds; and therefore it is necessary that the medicine
of instruction should be various. Let us however return thither from whence
we made this digression: "And the Priest said, Let us draw near unto God.
And Saul asked counsel of God.
436
Shall I go down after the strangers? Wilt Thou deliver them into my
hands? But on that day the Lord answered him not."(1) Observe the benignity
and mildness of God who loveth man. For He did not launch a thunderbolt,
nor shake the earth; but what friends do to friends, when treated contemptuously,
this the Lord did towards the servant. He only received him silently, speaking
by His silence, and by it giving utterance to all His wrath. This Saul
understood, and said, as it is recorded, "Bring near hither all the tribes
of the people, and know and see in whom this sin hath been this day. For
as the Lord liveth, Who hath saved lsrael, though the answer be against
Jonathan my son, he shall surely die."(2) Seest thou his rashness? Perceiving
that his first oath had been transgressed, he does not even then learn
self-control, but adds again a second. Consider also the malignity of the
devil. For since he was aware that frequently the son when discovered,
and publicly arraigned, is able by the very sight at once to make the father
relent, and might soften the king's wrath, he anticipated his sentence
by the obligation of a second oath; holding him by a kind of double bond,
and not permitting him to be the master of his own determination, but forcing
him on every side to that iniquitous murder. And even whilst the offender
was not yet produced, he hath passed judgment, and whilst ignorant of the
criminal, he gave sentence. The father became the executioner; and before
the enquiry declared his verdict of condemnation! What could be more irrational
than this proceeding?
12. Saul then having made this declaration, the
people were more afraid than before. and all were in a state of great trembling
and terror. But the devil rejoiced, at having rendered them all thus anxious.
There was no one, we are told, of all the people, who answered. "And Saul
said, Ye will be in bondage, and I, and Jonathan my son, will be in bondage."(3)
But what he means is to this effect; "You are aiming at nothing else, than
to deliver yourselves to your enemies, and to become slaves instead of
free men; whilst you provoke God against you, in not delivering up the
guilty person." Observe also another contradiction produced by the oath.
It had been fitting, if he wished to find the author of this guilt, to
have made no such threat, nor to have bound himself to vengeance by an
oath; that becoming less afraid, they might more readily bring the offender
to light? But under the influence of anger, and great madness, and his
former unreasonableness, he again does that which is directly contrary
to what he desires. What need is there to enlarge? He commits the matter
to a decision by lot; and the lot falleth upon Saul, and Jonathan; "And
Saul said, Cast ye the lot between me and Jonathan; and they cast the lot,
and Jonathan was taken. And Saul said to Jonathan, Tell me, what hast thou
done? And Jonathan told him, saying, I only tasted a little honey on the
top of the rod which is in my hand, and, lo! I must die." Who is
there that these words would not have moved and turned to pity? Consider
what a tempest Saul then sustained, his bowels being torn with anguish,
and the most profound precipice appearing on either hand! But nevertheless
he did not learn self-control, for what does he say? "God do so to me,
and more also; for thou shall surely die this day."(6) Behold again
the third oath, and not simply the third, but one with a very narrow limit
as to time; for he does not merely say, "Thou shall die;" but, "this day."(7)
For the devil was hurrying, hurrying him on, constraining him and driving
him to this impious murder. Wherefore he did not suffer him to assign any
future day for the sentence, lest there should be any correction of the
evil by delay. And the people said to Saul, "God do so to us, and more
also, if he shall be put to death, who hath wrought this great salvation
in Israel. As the Lord liveth, there shall not an hair of his head fall
to the ground; because he hath wrought a merciful thing from God to-day."(8)
Behold how, in the second place, the people also swore, and swore contrary
to the king.
13. Now recollect, I pray, the cord pulled by the
children, and breaking, and throwing on their backs those who pull it.
Saul swore not once or twice, but several times. The people swore what
was contrary, and strained in the opposite direction. Of necessity then
it followed, that the oath must in any wise be broken through. For it were
impossible that all these should keep their oaths. And now tell me not
of the event of this transaction; but consider how many evils were springing
from it; and how the devil from thence was preparing the tragedy and usurpation
of Absalom. For if the king had chosen to resist, and to proceed to the
execution of his oath, the people would have been
437
in array against him; and a grievous rebellion(1) would have been set
on foot. And again, if the son consulting his own safety had chosen to
throw himself into the hands of the army, he would straightway have become
a parricide. Seest thou not, that rebellion, as well as child-murder, and
parricide, and battle, and civil war, and slaughter, and blood, and dead
bodies without number, are the consequences of one oath. For if war had
perchance broken out, Saul might have been slain, and Jonathan perchance
too, and many of the soldiers would have been cut to pieces; and after
all the keeping of the oath would not have been forwarded. So that it is
not for thee to consider that these events did not occur, but to mark this
point, that it was the nature of the case to necessitate the occurrence
of such things. However, the people prevailed. Come then, let us reckon
up the perjuries that were the consequence. The oath of Saul was first
broken by his son; and again a second and a third, concerning the slaying
of his son, by Saul himself. And the people seemed to have kept their oath.
Yet if any one closely examines the matter, they too all became liable
to the charge of perjury. For they compelled the father of Jonathan to
perjure himself, by not surrendering the son to the father. Seest thou
how many persons one oath made obnoxious to perjury,(2) willingly and unwillingly;
how many evils it wrought, how many deaths it caused?
14. Now in the commencement of this discourse I
promised to shew that perjury would in any case result from opposite oaths;
but truly the course of the history has proved more than I was establishing.
It has exhibited not one, two, or three individuals, but a whole people,
and not one, two, or three oaths, but many more transgressed. I might also
make mention of another instance, and shew from that, how one oath caused
a still greater and more grievous calamity. For one oath(3) entailed upon
all the Jews the capture of their cities, as well as of their wives and
children; the ravages of fire, the invasion of barbarians, the pollution
of sacred things, and ten thousand other evils yet more distressing. But
I perceive that the discourse is running to a great length. Therefore,
dismissing here the narration of this history, I beseech you, together
with the beheading of John, to tell one another also of the murder of Jonathan,
and the general destruction of a whole people (which did not indeed take
place, but which was involved in the obligation of the oaths); and both
at home, and in public, and with your wives, and friends, and with neighbours,
and with all men in general, to make an earnest business of this matter,
and not to think it a sufficient apology that we can plead custom.
15. For that this excuse is a mere pretext, and that the fault
arises not from custom but from listlessness, I will endeavour to convince
you from what has already occurred. The Emperor has shut up the baths of
the city, and has given orders that no one shall bathe; and no one has
dared to transgress the law, nor to find fault with what has taken place,
nor to allege custom. But even though in weak health perchance, men and
women, and children and old men; and many women but recently eased from
the pangs of childbirth; though all requiring this as a necessary medicine;
bear with the injunction, willingly or unwillingly; and neither plead infirmity
of body, nor the tyranny of custom, nor that they are punished, whereas
others were the offenders, nor any other thing of this kind, but contentedly
put up with this punishment, because they were in expectation of greater
evils; and pray daily that the wrath of the Emperor may go no further.
Seest thou that where there is fear, the bond of custom is easily relaxed,
although it be of exceedingly long standing, and great necessity? To be
denied the use of the bath is certainly a grievous matter. For although
we be never so philosophic, the nature of the body proves incapable of
deriving any benefit for its own health, from the philosophy of the soul.
But as to abstinence from swearing, this is exceedingly easy, and brings
no injury at all; none to the body, none to the mind; but, on the contrary,
great gain, much safety, and abundant wealth. How then is it any thing
but absurd, to submit to the greatest hardships, when an Emperor enjoins
it; but when God commands nothing grievous nor difficult, but what is very
tolerable and easy, to despise or to deride it, and to advance custom as
an excuse? Let us not, I entreat, so far despise our own safety, but let
us fear God as we fear man. I know that ye shudder at hearing this, but
what deserves to be shuddered at is that ye do not pay even so much respect
to God; and that whilst ye diligently observe the Emperor's decrees, ye
trample under foot those which are divine, and which have come down from
heaven; and consider diligence concerning these a secondary object. For
what apology will
438
there be left for us, and what pardon, if after so much admonition we
persist in the same practices. For I began this admonition at the very
commencement of the calamity which has taken hold of the city, and that
is now on the point of coming to an end; but we have not as yet thoroughly
put in practice even one precept. How then can we ask a removal of the
evils which still beset us, when we have not been able to perform a single
precept? How can we expect a change for the better? How shall we pray?
With what tongue shall we call upon God? For if we perform the law, we
shall enjoy much pleasure, when the Emperor is reconciled to the city.
But if we remain in the transgression, shame and reproach will be ours
on every hand, inasmuch as when God hath freed us from the danger we have
continued in the same listlessness.
16. Oh! that it were possible for me to undress
the souls of those who swear frequently, and to expose to view the wounds
and the bruises which they receive daily from oaths! We should then need
neither ad. monition nor counsel; for the sight of these wounds would avail
more powerfully than all that could be said, to withdraw from their wickedness
even those who are most addicted o this wicked practice. Nevertheless,
if it be not possible to spread before the eyes the shameful state of their
soul, it may be possible to expose it to the thoughts, and to display it
in its rottenness and corruption. For as it saith, "As a servant that is
continually beaten will not be clear of a bruise, so he that sweareth and
nameth God continually will not be purified of his sin."(1) It is impossible,
utterly impossible, that the mouth which is practised in swearing, should
not frequently commit perjury. Therefore, I beseech you all, by laying
aside this dreadful and wicked habit, to win another crown. And since it
is every where sung of our city, that first of all the cities of the world,
she bound on her brow(2) the name of Christians, so let all have to say,
that Antioch alone, of all the cities throughout the wold, hath expelled
all oaths from her own borders. Yea, rather, should this be done, she will
not be herself crowned alone, but will also carry others along with her
to the same pitch of zeal. And as the name of Christians having had its
origin here, hath as it were from a kind of fountain overflown all the
world, even so this good work, having taken its root and starting-point
from hence, will make all men that inhabit the earth your disciples; so
that a double and treble reward may arise to you, at once on account of
your own good works, and of the instruction afforded to others. This will
be to you the brightest of diadems! This will make your city a mother city,
not on earth, but in the heavens! This will stand by us at That Day, and
bring us the crown of righteousness; which God grant that we may all obtain,
through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom
to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, now and ever, and
world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XV.
Again on the calamity of the city of Antioch. That fear is every way
profitable. That sorrow is more useful than laughter. And upon the saying,
"Remember that thou walkest in the midst of snares."(1) And that it is
worse to exact an oath, than to commit murder
1. TO-DAY, and on the former Sabbath,(2) it had
behoved us to enter on the subject of fasting; nor let any one suppose
that what I said was unseasonable.(3) For on the days of the fast, counsel
and admonition on that subject are indeed not at all necessary; the very
presence of these days exciting even those who are the most remiss to the
effort of fasting. But since many men, both when about to enter upon the
fast, as if the belly were on the point of being delivered over to a sort
of lengthened seige, lay in beforehand a stock of gluttony and drunkenness;
and again, on being set at liberty, going forth as from a long famine and
a grievous prison, run to the
439
table with unseemly greediness, just as if they were striving to undo
again the advantage gained through the fast, by an excess of gluttony;
it might have been needful, that then as well as now, we should agitate
the subject of temperance. Nevertheless, we have neither lately said any
thing of that kind, neither shall we now speak upon it. For the fear of
the impending calamity suffices, instead of the strongest admonition and
counsel, to sober the soul of every one. For who is there so miserable
and degraded, as to be drunken in such a tempest? Who is there so insensible,
when the city is thus agitated, and such a shipwreck is threatened, as
not to become abstemious and watchful, and more thoroughly reformed by
this distress than by any other sort of admonition and counsel? For discourse
will not be able to effect as much as fear does. And this very thing it
is now possible to shew from the events which have taken place. How many
words then did we spend before this in exhorting many that were listless,
and counselling them to abstain from the theatres, and the impurities of
these places! And still they did not abstain; but always on this day they
flocked together to the unlawful spectacles of the dancers; and they held
their diabolical assembly in opposition(1) to the full congregation of
God's Church; so that their vehement shouts, borne in the air from that
place, resounded against the psalms which we were singing here. But behold,
now whilst we were keeping silence, and saying nothing on the subject,
they of themselves have shut up their orchestra; and the Hippodrome has
been left deserted! Before this, many of our own people used to hasten
to them; but now they are all fled hither from thence to the church, and
all alike join in praising our God!
2. Seest thou what advantage is come of fear? If
fear were not a good thing, fathers would not have set tutors(2) over their
children; nor lawgivers magistrates for cities. What can be more grievous
than hell? Yet nothing is more profitable than the fear of it; for the
fear of hell will bring us the crown of the kingdom. Where fear is, there
is no envy; where fear is, the love of money does not disturb; where fear
is, wrath is quenched, evil concupiscence is repressed, and every unreasonable
passion is exterminated. And even as in a house, where there is always
a soldier under arms, no robber, nor house-breaker, nor any such evil doer
will dare to make his appearance; so also while fear holds possession of
our minds, none of the base passions will readily attack us, but all fly
off and are banished, being driven away in every direction by the despotic
power of fear. And not only this advantage do we gain from fear, but also
another which is far greater. For not only, indeed, does it expel our evil
passions, but it also introduces every kind of virtue with great facility.
Where fear exists, there is zeal in alms-giving, and intensity of prayer,
and tears warm and frequent, and groans fraught with compunction. For nothing
so swallows up sin, and makes virtue to increase and flourish, as a perpetual
state of dread. Therefore it is impossible for him who does not live in
fear to act aright; as, on the other hand, it is impossible that the man
who lives in fear can go wrong.
3. Let us not then grieve, beloved, let us not despond
on account of the present tribulation, but let us admire the well-devised
plan of God's wisdom. For by these very means through which the devil hoped
to overturn our city, hath God restored and corrected it. The devil animated
certain lawless men to treat the very statues of the Emperor contemptuously,
in order that the very foundations of the city might be razed. But God
employed this same circumstance for our greater correction; driving out
all sloth by the dread of the expected wrath: and the thing has turned
out directly opposite to what the devil wished, by the means which he had
himself prepared. For our city is being purified every day; and the lanes
and crossings, and places of public concourse, are freed from lascivious
and voluptuous songs; and turn where we will there are supplications, and
thanksgivings, and tears, instead of rude laughter; there are words of
sound wisdom instead of obscene language, and our whole city has become
a Church, the workshops being closed, and all being engaged throughout
the day in these general prayers; and calling upon God in one united voice
with much earnestness. What preaching, what admonition, what counsel, what
length of time had ever availed to accomplish these things?
4. For this then let us be thankful, and let us
not be petulant or discontented; for that fear is a good thing, what we
have said hath made manifest. But hear Solomon thus uttering a lesson of
wisdom concerning it; Solomon, who was nourished in every luxury,
440
and enjoyed much security. What then does he say? "It is better to go
to the house of mourning than to the house of laughter."(1) What sayest
thou, I ask? Is it better to go where there is weeping, lamentation, and
groans, and anguish, and so much sadness, than where there is the dance,
the cymbals, and laughter, and luxury, and full eating and drinking? Yes,
verily, he replies. And tell me why is it so, and for what reason? Because,
at the former place, insolence is bred, at the latter, sobriety. And when
a person goes to the banquet of one more opulent, he will no longer behold
his own house with the same pleasure, but he comes back to his wife in
a discontented mood; and in discontent he partakes of his own table; and
is peevish towards his own servants, and his own children, and every body
in his house; perceiving his own poverty the more forcibly by the wealth
of others. And this is not the only evil; but that he also often envies
him who hath invited him to the feast, and returns home having received
no benefit at all. But with regard to the house of mourning, nothing of
this sort can be said. On the contrary, much spiritual wisdom is to be
gained there, as well as sobriety. For when once a person hath passed the
threshold of a house which contains a corpse, and hath seen the departed
one lying speechless, and the wife tearing her hair, mangling her cheeks,
and wounding her arms, he is subdued; his countenance becomes sad; and
every one of those who sit down together can say to his neighhour
but this, "We are nothing, and our wickedness is inexpressible!"(2)
What can be more full of wisdom than these words, when we both acknowledge
the insignificance of our nature, and accuse our own wickedness, and account
present things as nothing? Giving utterance, though in different words,
to that very sentiment of Solomon--that sentiment which is so marvellous
and pregnant with Divine wisdom--"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."(3)
He who enters the house of mourning, weeps forthwith for the departed,
even though he be an enemy. Seest thou how much better that house is than
the other? for there, though he be a friend, he envies; but here, though
he be an enemy, he weeps. This is a thing which God requires of us above
all, that we should not insult over those who have occasioned us grief.
And not only may we gather these advantages, but others also which are
not less than these. For each one is also put in mind of his own sins,
and of the fearful Tribunal; of the great Account, and of the Judgment;
and although he may have been suffering a thousand evils from others, and
have a cause for sadness at home, he will receive and take back with him
the medicine for all these things. For reflecting that he himself, and
all those who swell with pride, will in a little while suffer the same
thing; and that all present things, whether pleasant or painful, are transitory;
he thus returns to his house, disburdened of all sadness and envy, with
a light and buoyant heart; and hence he will hereafter be more meek, and
gentle, and benignant to all; as well as more wise; the fear of things
to come having made its way into his soul, and consumed all the thorns.
6. All this Solomon perceived when he said, "It
is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of drinking."(4)
From the one grows listlessness, from the other an earnest anxiety. From
the one, contempt; from the other, fear; a fear which conducts us to the
practice of every virtue. If fear were not a good thing, Christ would not
have expended such long and frequent discourses on the subject of punishment,
and vengeance to come. Fear is nothing less than a wall, and a defence,
and an impregnable tower. For indeed we stand in need of much defence,
seeing that there are many ambushments on every side. Even as this same
Solomon again says admonishingly, "Perceive that thou goest in the midst
of snares, and that thou walkest on the battlements of cities.'"(5) Oh
with how many good things is this saying pregnant! Yea, not less than the
former! Let us then, write it, each of us, upon our minds, and carry it
about ever in our memories, and we shall not easily commit sin. Let us
write it there, having first learnt it with the utmost exactness. For he
does not say, "Observe"(6) that thou goest in the midst of snares; but,
"Perceive!" And for what reason did he say, "Discern?"(7) He tells us that
the snare is concealed; for this is indeed a snare, when the destruction
does not appear openly, and the injury is not manifest, which lies hidden
on all sides. Therefore he says, "Perceive!" Thou needest much reflection
and diligent scrutiny. For even as boys conceal traps with earth, so the
devil covers up our sins with the pleasures of this life.
7. But" perceive;" scrutinizing diligently;
441
and if any kind of gain falls in thy way, look not only at the gain,
but inspect it carefully, lest somewhere death and sin lurk within the
gain; and shouldest thou perceive this, fly from it. Again, when some delight
or pleasure may chance to present itself, look not only at the pleasure;
but lest somewhere in the depth of the pleasure some iniquity should
lie enveloped, search closely, and if thou discoverest it, hasten away!
And should any one counsel, or flatter, or cajole, or promise honours,
or any other such thing whatever, let us make the closest investigation;
and look at the matter on all sides, lest something pernicious, something
perilous, should perchance befall us through this advice, or honour, or
attention, and we run upon it hastily and unwittingly. For if there were
only one or two snares, the precaution would be easy. But now, hear how
Solomon speaks when he wishes to set forth the multitude of these; "Perceive
that thou goest in the midst of snares;" he does not say, that thou "goest
by" snares, but "in the midst" of snares. On either side are the pit-falls;
on either side the deceits. One goes into the forum; one sees an enemy;
one is inflamed by the bare sight of him! one sees a friend honoured; one
is envious! One sees a poor man; one despises and takes no notice of him!
One sees a rich man; one envies him! One sees some one injuriously treated;
one recoils in disgust! One sees some one acting injuriously; one is indignant!
One sees a handsome woman, and is caught! Seest thou, beloved, how many
snares there are? Therefore it is said, "Remember that thou goest in the
midst of snares." There are snares in the house, snares at the table, and
snares in social intercourse. Very often a person unwittingly, in the confidence
of friendship, gives utterance to some particular of those matters which
ought not to be repeated again, and so great a peril is brought about,
that the whole family is thereby ruined!
8. On every side then let us search closely into
these matters. Often has a wife, often have children, often have friends,
often have neighbours, proved a snare to the unheeding! And why, it is
asked, are there so many snares? That we may not fly low, but seek the
things that are above. For just as birds, as long as they cleave the upper
air, are not easily caught; so also thou, as long as thou lookest to things
above, wilt not be easily captured, whether by a snare, or by any other
device. The devil is a fowler. Soar, then, too high for his arrows.(1)
The man who hath mounted aloft will no longer admire any thing in the affairs
of this life. But as when we have ascended to the top of the mountains,
the city and its walls seem to us to be but small, and the men appear to
us to be going along upon the earth like ants; so when thou hast ascended
to the heights of spiritual wisdom, nothing upon the earth will be able
to fascinate thee; but every thing, yea even riches, and glory, and honour,
and whatever else there be of that kind, will appear insignificant when
thou regardest heavenly things. According to Paul all the glories of the
present life appeared trifling, and more unprofitable than dead things.
Hence his exclamation, "The world is crucified unto me."(2) Hence also
his admonition, "Set your affections on things above."(3) Above? What kinds
of things do you speak of pray? Where the sun is, where the moon is? Nay,
saith he. But where then? Where angels are? where archangels? where
the cherubim? where the seraphim are? Nay, saith he But where then? "Where
Christ sitteth at the right hand of God."
9. Let us obey then, and let us think of this continually,
that even as to the bird caught in the snare, wings are of no service,
but he beats them about vainly, and to no purpose; so also to thee there
is no utility in thy reasonings,(4) when once thou art powerfully captivated
by wicked lust, but struggle as much as thou mayest, thou art captured!
For this reason wings are given to birds; that they may avoid snares. For
this reason men have the power of thinking; that they may avoid sin. What
pardon then, or what excuse will be ours, when we become more senseless
than the brutes? For the bird which has once been captured by the snare,
yet afterwards escaped, and the deer which has fallen into the net, but
has broken through it, are hard to be captured again with the like; since
experience becomes a teacher of caution to every one. But we, though often
snared in the same nets, fall into the same again; and though honoured
with reason, we do not imitate the forethought and care of the irrational
animals! Hence how often do we, from beholding a woman, suffer a thousand
evils; returning home, and entertaining an inordinate desire, and experiencing
anguish for many days; yet, nevertheless, we are not made discreet; but
when we have scarcely cured one wound, we again fall into the same mischief,
and are caught by the same means; and for the sake of the brief pleasure
of a glance, we sustain a kind of lengthened and continual torment. But
if we learn con-
442
stantly to repeat to ourselves this saying,(1) we shall be kept from
all these grievous evils.
10. The beauty of woman is the greatest snare. Or
rather, not the beauty of woman, but unchastened gazing! For we should
not accuse the objects, but ourselves, and our own carelessness. Nor should
we say, Let there be no women, but Let there be no adulteries. We should
not say, Let there be no beauty, but Let there be no fornication. We should
not say, Let there be no belly, but let there be no gluttony; for the belly
makes not the gluttony, but our negligence. We should not say, that it
is because of eating and drinking that all these evils exist; for it is
not because of this, but because of our carelessness and insatiableness.
Thus the devil neither ate nor drank, and yet he fell! Paul ate and drank,
and ascended up to heaven! How many do I hear say, Let there be no poverty!
Therefore let us stop the mouths of those who murmur at such things. For
it is blasphemy to utter such complaints. To such then, let us say, Let
there be no meanness of spirit. For poverty brings innumerable good things
into our state of life, and without poverty riches would be unprofitable.
Hence we should accuse neither the one nor the other of these; for poverty
and riches are both alike weapons which will tend to virtue, if we are
willing. As then the courageous soldier, whichever weapon he takes, displays
his own virtue, so the unmanly and cowardly one is encumbered by either.
And that thou mayest learn that this is true, remember, I pray, the case
of Job; who became both rich, and likewise poor, and handled both these
weapons alike, and conquered in both. When he was rich, he said, "My door
was open to every comer."(2) But when he had become poor, "The Lord gave,
and the Lord hath taken away. As it seemed good unto the Lord, so hath
it come to pass."(3) When he was rich, he shewed much hospitality; when
he was poor, much patience. And thou, then,--art thou rich? Display much
bountifulness! Hast thou become poor? Shew much endurance and patience!
For neither is wealth an evil, nor poverty in itself; but these things,
either of them, become so according to the free choice of those who make
use of them. Let us school ourselves then to entertain no such opinions
on these subjects; nor let us accuse the works of God, but the wicked choice
of men. Riches are not able to profit the little-minded: nor is poverty
able ever to injure the magnanimous. 11. Let us then discern the snares,
and walk far off from them! Let us discern the precipices, and not even
approach them! This will be the foundation of our greatest safety not only
to avoid things sinful, but those things which seem indeed to be indifferent,
and yet are apt to make us stumble towards sin. For example; to laugh,
to speak jocosely, does not seem an acknowledged sin, but it leads to acknowledged
sin. Thus laughter often gives birth to foul discourse, and foul discourse
to actions still more foul. Often from words and laughter proceed railing
and insult; and from railing and insult, blows and wounds; and from blows
and wounds, slaughter and murder. If, then, thou wouldest take good counsel
for thyself, avoid not merely foul words, and foul deeds, or blows, and
wounds, and murders, but unseasonable laughter, itself, and the very language
of banter; since these things have proved the root of subsequent evils.
Therefore Paul saith, "Let no foolish talking nor jesting proceed out of
thy mouth."(4) For although this seems to be a small thing in itself, it
becomes, however, the cause of much mischief to us. Again, to live in luxury
does not seem to be a manifest and admitted crime; but then it brings forth
in us great evils,--drunkenness, violence, extortion, and rapine. For the
prodigal and sumptuous liver, bestowing extravagant service upon the belly,
is often compelled to steal, and to seize the property of others, and to
use extortion and violence. If, then, thou avoidest luxurious living, thou
removest the foundation of extortion, and rapine, and drunkenness, and
a thousand other evils; cutting away the root of iniquity from its extremity.
Hence Paul saith, that "she who liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth."(5)
Again, to go to the theatres, or to survey the horse-race, or to play at
dice, does not seem, to most men, to be an admitted crime; but it introduces
into our life an infinite host of miseries. For spending time in the theatres
produces fornication, intemperance, and every kind of impurity. The spectacle
of the horse-race also brings about fightings, railings, blows, insults,
and lasting enmities. And a passion for dice-playing hath often caused
blasphemies, injuries, anger, reproaches, and a thousand other things more
fearful still.
12. Therefore, let us not only avoid sins, but those
things too which seem to be indifterent, yet by degrees lead us into these
misdeeds. He, indeed, who walks by the side of a precipice, even though
he may not fall
443
over, trembles; and very often he is overset by this same trembling,
and falls to the bottom. So also he who does not avoid sins from afar,
but walks near them, will live in fear, and will often fall into them.
Besides, he who eagerly looks at strange beauties, although he may not
commit adultery, hath in so doing entertained lust; and hath become already
an adulterer according to the declaration of Christ;(1) and often by this
very lust he is carried on to the actual sin. Let us then withdraw ourselves
far from sins. Dost thou wish to live soberly? Avoid not only adultery,
but also the licentious glance! Dost thou wish to be far removed from foul
words? Avoid not only foul words, but also inordinate laughter, and every
kind of lust. Dost thou wish to keep far from committing murders? Avoid
railing too. Dost thou wish to keep aloof from drunkenness? Avoid luxury
and sumptuous tables, and pluck up the vice by the roots.
13. The licentiousness of the tongue is a great
snare, and needs a strong bridle. Therefore also some one saith. "His own
lips are a powerful snare to a man, and he is snared by the words of his
own mouth."(2) Above all the other members, then, let us control this;
let us bridle it; and let us expel from the mouth railings, and contumelies,
and foul and slanderous language, and the evil habit of oaths. For again
our discourse hath brought us to the same exhortation. But I had arranged
with your charity, yesterday, that I would say no more concerning this
precept, forasmuch as enough has been said upon it on all the foregoing
days. But what is to become of me? I cannot bear to desist from this counsel,
until I see that ye have put it in practice; since Paul also, when he saith
to the Galatians, "Henceforth let no man trouble me,"(3) appears again
to have met and addressed them.(4) Such are the paternal bowels;
although they say they will depart, yet they depart not, until they see
that their sons are chastened. Have ye heard to-day what the prophet speaks
to us concerning oaths; "I lifted up mine eyes, and I saw," saith he, "and,
behold, a flying sickle, the length thereof twenty cubits, and the breadth
thereof ten cubits; and he said to me, What seest thou? and I said, I see
a flying sickle, twenty cubits in length, and ten cubits in breadth. It
shall also enter into the house," saith he, 'of every one that sweareth
in my name, and shall remain(5) in the midst, and shall pull down the stones
and the wood."(6) What, forsooth, is this which is here spoken? and for
what reason is it in the form of a "sickle," and that a "flying sickle,"
that vengeance is seen to pursue the swearers? In order that thou mayest
see that the judgment is inevitable, and the punishment not to be eluded.
For from a flying sword some one might perchance be able to escape, but
from a sickle, falling upon the neck, and acting in the place of a cord,(7)
no one can escape. And when wings too are added, what further hope is there
of safety? But on what account doth it pull down the stones and the wood
of the swearer's house? In order that the ruin may be a correction to all.
For since it is necessary that the earth must hide the swearer when dead;
the very sight of his ruined house, now become a heap, will be an admonition
to all who pass by and observe it, not to venture on the like, lest they
suffer the like; and it will be a lasting witness against the sin of the
departed. The sword is not so piercing as the nature of an oath! The sabre
is not so destructive as the stroke of an oath! The swearer, although he
seems to live, is already dead, and hath received the fatal blow. And as
the man who hath received the halter,(8) before he hath gone out of the
city and come to the pit,(9) and seen the executioner standing over him,
is dead from the time he passed the doors of the hall of justice: so also
the swearer.
14. All this let us consider, and let us not put
our brethren on oath. What dost thou, O man? At the sacred table thou exactest
an oath, and where Christ lies slain, there thou slayest thine own brother.
Robbers, indeed, murder on the highways; but thou slayest the son in the
presence of the mother: committing a murder more accursed than Cain himself;
for he slew his brother in solitude and only with present death; but thou
slayest thy brother in the midst of the church, and that with the deathless
death that is to come! For think you that the church was made for this
purpose, that we might swear? Yea, for this it was made, that we might
pray! Is the Table placed there, that we may make adjurations? It is placed
there to this end, that we may loose sins, not that we may bind them. But
thou, if thou heedest nothing else, reverence at least that book, which
thou reachest forth in putting the oath; and open the Gospel. which thou
takest in hand when thou biddest swear; and when thou
444
hearest what Christ there declares concerning oaths, shudder and desist!
What then does He there say concerning oaths? "But I say unto you, Swear
not at all."(1) And dost thou convert the Law(2) which forbids swearing
into an oath. Oh, what contempt! Oh, what outrage! For thou doest just
the same thing as if any one should bid the lawgiver, who prohibits murder,
become himself a party to the murder. Not so much do I lament and weep,
when I hear that some persons are slain(3) upon the highway, as I groan,
and shed tears, and am horrified, when I see any one coming near this Table,
placing his hands upon it, and touching the Gospels, and swearing! Art
thou in doubt, I ask, concerning money, and wouldest thou slay a soul?
What gainest thou to match the injury thou doest to thine own soul, and
to thy neighbour? If thou believest that the man is true, do not impose
the obligation of the oath; but if thou knowest him to be a liar, do not
force him to commit perjury. "But that I may have a full assurance:" saith
one. Verily, when thou hast not sworn him, then thou wilt receive a good
and full assurance.(4)
15. For now, when thou hast returned home, thou
wilt be continually the prey of conscience, whilst reasoning thus with
thyself; "Was it to no purpose, then, that I put him upon his oath? Was
he not really perjured? Have I not become the cause of the sin?" But if
thou dost not put him upon his oath, thou wilt receive much consolation
on returning home, rendering thanks to God, and saying, "Blessed be God,
that I restrained myself, and did not compel him to swear vainly, and to
no purpose. Away with gold! Perish the money!" for that which specially
gives us assurance is, that we did not transgress the law, nor compel another
to do it. Consider, for Whose sake thou didst not put any one on his oath;
and this will suffice thee for refreshment and consolation. Often, indeed,
when a fight takes place, we bear being insulted with fortitude, and we
say to the insulter, "What shall I do with thee? Such an one hinders me,
who is thy patron; he keeps back my hands." And this is sufficient to console
us. So when thou art about to put any one on his oath, restrain thyself;
and stop; and say to him who is about to swear, "What shall I do with thee?
God hath forbidden me to put any one on oath. He now holds me back." This
suffices both for the honour of the Lawgiver, and for thy safety, and for
keeping him in fear who is ready to swear. For when he seeth that we are
thus afraid to put others on oath, much more will he himself be afraid
to swear rashly. Wouldest thou say thus, thy return to thine own home would
be with much fulness of assurance. Hear God, therefore, in His Commandments,
that He may Himself hear thee in thy prayers! This word shall be written
in heaven, and shall stand by thee on the Day of Judgment, and shall discharge
many sins.
16. This also let us consider not only with respect
to an oath, but to every thing. And when we are about to do any good action
for God's sake, and it is found to bring loss with it, let us look not
merely at the loss connected with the matter, but at the gain which we
shall reap by doing it for God. That is to say, Hath any one insulted thee?
Bear it nobly! And thou wilt do so, if thou thinkest not of the insult
merely, but of the dignity of Him who commands thee to bear it, and thou
bearest it meekly. Hast thou given an alms? Think not of the outlay, but
of the produce which arises from the outlay. Hast thou been mulcted of
money? Give thanks, and regard not only the pain which is the result of
the loss, but the gain which comes of thanksgiving. If we thus regulate
ourselves, none of those heavy events which may befal us will give us pain;
but from those things which may seem to be grievous, we shall be even gainers,
and loss will be sweeter and more desired than wealth, pain than pleasure,
and mirth and insult than honour. Thus all things adverse will turn to
our gain. And here we shall enjoy much tranquillity, and there we shall
attain the kingdom of heaven; which God grant that we may all be deemed
worthy to obtain? by the grace and
445
lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through Whom and with Whom, to the Father with the Holy Spirit, be glory, dominion, and honour, now and ever, and world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XVI.
This Homily was delivered on the occasion of the Prefect(1) entering
the Church, for the purpose of pacifying the minds of the people, in consequence
of a rumour of an intended sack(2) having been announced to him, when all
were meditating flight. It treats also on the subject of avoiding oaths,
and on the words of the Apostle, "Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ."(3)
1. I COMMEND the Prefect's consideration, that seeing
the city agitated, and every one purposing a flight, he hath come here
and afforded you consolation, and hath led you to entertain favourable
hopes. But for you I blushed, and was ashamed, that after these long and
frequent discourses ye should have needed consolation from without.(4)
I longed that the earth would open and swallow me up, when I heard him
discoursing with you, alternately administering comfort, or blaming such
ill-timed(5) and senseless cowardice. For it was not becoming, that you
should be instructed by him; but you ought yourselves to be teachers to
all the unbelievers.(6) Paul did not permit even going to law before the
unbelievers;(7) but thou, after so much admonition of our Fathers,(8) hast
needed teachers from without; and certain vagabonds and miscreants have
again unsettled this great city, and set it upon flight. With what eyes
shall we hereafter look upon the unbelievers, we who were so timid and
cowardly? With what tongue shall we speak to them, and persuade them to
exercise courage as to approaching evils, when we became through this alarm
more timid than any hare? "But what could we do," says some one, "we are
but men!" This is indeed the very reason why we ought not to be terrified,
because we are men, and not brutes. For these are scared by all manner
of sounds and noises; because they have not reasoning power, which is adequate
to dispel fear. But thou who hast been honoured with the gift of speech
and reason, how is it that thou sinkest to their ignoble condition? Hath
some one entered the city, and announced the march of soldiers against
it? Be not terrified, but leaving him, bend the knee: call upon thy Lord:
groan bitterly, and He will keep off the dreaded event.
2. Thou hadst heard indeed a false report of the
march, and wert in danger of being severed from the present life.(9) But
that blessed Job, when the messengers came one after another, and he had
heard them announcing their dreadful news. and adding thereto the insupportable
destruction of his children, neither cried nor groaned, but turned to prayer,
and gave thanks to the Lord. Him do thou too imitate; and when any comer
announces that soldiers have encircled the city, and are about to plunder
its wealth, flee to thy Lord and say, "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken
away; as it seemeth good to the Lord, so is it done. Blessed be the name
of the Lord for ever." The experience of the actual events did not terrify
him; yet the mere report frightens thee. And how are we to be accounted
of, who when we are commanded(10) boldly to encounter death itself, are
thus affrighted by a false rumour! The man who is bewildered con-
446
structs fear which is unreal; and trouble which is not visible; but
he who abides in a settled and tranquil condition of soul, breaks in pieces
even that which is real. Seest thou not pilots; when the sea is raging,
and the clouds are rushing together, and the thunders are bursting forth,
and all on board are in confusion, they seat themselves at the helm without
tumult or disturbance; giving earnest heed to their own art, and considering
how they may ward off the effects of the approaching storm. Be these thy
example; and laying hold of the sacred anchor, the hope that is in God,
remain unshaken and immoveable. "Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine,
and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his
house upon the sand; and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the
winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell, and great was the fall
of it."(1) Seest thou that it is the character of folly to fall down headlong,
and to be overthrown? Or rather, we were not only reduced to the condition
of that foolish man, but our fall was still more wretched. For the house
of that man fell down after the rivers and rains had descended, and the
winds had beaten upon it; but we, when there were no winds striking, nor
floods invading, nor blasts assaulting, before the experience of disaster,
were overturned by a mere rumour, and dropped at once all the philosophy
we were meditating.
3. What think ye are now my thoughts? How should
I conceal,--yea, bury myself? How must I blush with shame? If I had not
been forcibly urged by our Fathers, I would not have arisen, I would not
have spoken, whilst my mind was darkened with sadness because of your pusillanimity.
But neither now have I been able to recover myself; since anger and sorrow
have laid such seige to my soul. For who would not feel provoked and indignant,
that after so much teaching ye should need the instructions of Gentiles,
that ye might be comforted and persuaded to bear in a manly way the present
alarm. Pray ye therefore that free utterance may be given us in opening
our mouth; and that we may be able to shake off this sadness, and to hold
up again a little; for indeed this shame on account of your pusillanimity
hath greatly depressed our spirits.
4. Lately, I addressed to your Charity many things
concerning the snares lying on all sides of us; and concerning fear and
sadness, sorrow and pleasure; and also concerning the sickle that flieth
down upon the houses of swearers. Now, out of all these many matters, I
would have you especially to remember what I said respecting the "winged
sickle," and its settling in the swearer's house; and pulling down the
stones and the wood, and consuming the whole mass. And withal, take heed
to this; that it is the extreme of folly to swear by taking the Gospels,
and to turn the very Law which forbids swearing into an oath; and that
it is better to suffer loss of property than to impose an oath on our neighbours;
since this is a great honour to be done to God. For when thou sayest to
God, "For thy sake I have not put such a one, who hath robbed and injured
me, on his oath," God will pay thee back a great recompense on account
of this honour, both here and hereafter. Say these things to others, and
observe them also yourselves. I know that in this place we become more
reverent, and lay aside every evil habit. But what is to be aimed at is,
not that we be lovers of wisdom here only, but that when we depart, we
may take this reverence out with us, where we especially need it. For those
who carry water do not merely have their vessels full when near the fountain,
and empty them when they reach home, but there they put them away with
especial caution, that they may not be overturned, and their labours rendered
useless. Let us all imitate these persons; and when we come home, let us
strictly retain what has been spoken; since if ye here have gotten full,
but return home empty, having the vessels of your understandings destitute
of what ye have heard, there will be no advantage from your replenishment
here. Shew me not the wrestler in the place of exercise, but of actual
contest; and religion not at the season of hearing, but at the season of
practice.
5.Thou applaudest what is said now. When thou art
required to swear, then remember all these things. If ye quickly accomplish
this law, we will advance our teaching to other and greater things. Lo!
this is the second year that I am discoursing to your Charity; and I have
not yet been able to explain a hundred lines(2) of the Scriptures, And
the reason is, that ye need to learn of us what ye might reduce to practice
at home, and of yourselves; and thus the greater part of our exhortation
is consumed on ethical discourse. But this ought not to have been so; the
regulation of manners you ought to
447
have learnt at home, and of yourselves; but the sense of the Scriptures,
and the speculations upon them, you might commit to us. If, however, it
were necessary that you should hear such things of us, there was no need
of more than one day: for what there is to be said is of no diversified
or difficult character, or such as requires any elaboration. For when God
declares His sentence, subtle arguments are unseasonable. God hath said,
"Thou shall not swear." Do not then demand of me the reasons of this. It
is a royal law. He who established it, knows the reason of the law. If
it had not been profitable, He would not have forbidden it. Kings bring
in laws, and not all perchance profitable; for they are men, and cannot
be competent to discover what is useful, like God. Nevertheless, we obey
them. Whether we marry, or make wills, or are about to purchase servants,
or houses, or fields, or to do any other act, we do these things not according
to our own mind, but according to the laws which they ordain; and we are
not entirely at liberty to dispose of the things which concern ourselves
according to our own minds; but in many cases we are subject to their will;
and should we do any thing that is contrary to their judgment, it becomes
invalid and useless. So then tell me, are we to pay so much respect to
the laws of men, and trample under foot the law of God? What defence, or
what pardon can such conduct be worthy of? He hath said, "Thou shalt not
swear." In order that thou mayest do and speak all things with safety,
do not in practice lay down a law contrary to His.
6. But enough of these matters. Let us now proceed
to lay before you one sentence of those which have been read to-day, and
thus end this discourse. "Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ," saith he,
"and Timothy the brother."(1) Great is the designation of Paul: no title
of principality and power, but he speaks of bonds and chains! Truly great
indeed! Although many other things made him illustrious; his being caught
up into the third heaven, his being transported to Paradise, his hearing
unutterable words; yet he sets down none of these, but mentions the chain
instead of all, for this made him more conspicuous and illustrious than
these. And why so? Because the one were the free gifts of the Lord's lovingkindness;
and the other the marks of the constancy and patience of the servant. But
it is customary with those who love, to glory more in the things which
they suffer for those who are beloved, than in the benefits they receive
from them. A king is not so proud of his diadem, as Paul gloried in his
chains. And very justly. For a diadem affords but an ornament to the crowned
head; but the chain is a much greater ornament as well as a security. The
kingly crown often betrays the head it encircles, and allures innumerable
traitors, and invites them to the lust of empire. And in battles this ornament
is so dangerous, that it must be hidden and laid aside. Hence kings in
battle, change the outward dress, and so mingle in the crowd of combatants;
so much betrayal does there result from the crown; but the chain will bring
nothing of this kind upon those who have it, but altogether the contrary;
since if there be a war, and an engagement with demons, and the hostile
powers; the man who is thus encompassed, by holding forth his chain, repels
their assaults. And many of the secular magistrates not only bear the name
of office while they are in authority, but when they have given up their
authority. Such a one is called an ex-consul, such a one an ex-praetor.
But he, instead of all such titles, says, "Paul the prisoner." And very
rightly. For those magisterial offices are no complete evidences of virtue
in respect to the soul; for they are to be purchased by money, and obtained
by the solicitations of friends; but this distinction that is obtained
by bonds is a proof of the soul's love of wisdom, and the strongest sign
of a longing for Christ. And the former are soon gone, but this distinction
has none to succeed to it. Behold at least from that time to the present
day how long a time has passed, and yet the name of this Prisoner has become
increasingly illustrious. As to all the consuls, whoever they were, of
former times, they are passed into silence; and not even their names are
known to the generality of mankind. But the name of this Prisoner, the
blessed Paul, is still great here, great in the land of the barbarians,
great also among the Scythians and Indians; and were you to go even to
the very bounds of the habitable world, you would hear of this appellation,
and whithersoever any one could come, he would perceive that the name of
Paul was borne in the mouths of all men. And what marvel is it, if it be
so by land and sea, when even in the heavens the name of Paul is great;
with angels and archangels and the powers above, and with the King of these,
even God! "But what were the chains," says some one, "that brought glory
to him who was thus fettered? Were they not formed of iron?" Of iron, indeed,
they were formed; but they contained the grace of the Spirit, abundantly
flourish-
448
ing in them; since he wore them for Christ's sake. Oh, wonder! the servants
were bound, the Master was crucified, and yet the preaching of the Gospel
every day increases! And through the means by which it was supposed that
it would be extinguished, by these very means it was kindled; and the Cross
and bonds, which were thought to be an abomination, these are now become
the symbols of salvation; and that iron was to us more precious than all
gold, not by its intrinsic nature, but for this cause and ground!
7. But here I see an enquiry arising out of this
point; and if you give me your attention, i will both state the question
exactly, and will add the solution. What then is the subject of enquiry?
This same Paul once having come before Festus, whilst discoursing to him,
and defending himself concerning the charges which the Jews had alleged
against him, and telling how he had seen Jesus, how he had heard that blessed
voice; how he had been struck with blindness and recovered sight, and had
fallen down and risen up again; how he had come a captive into Damascus,
bound without chains; after speaking likewise of the Law and of the Prophets,
and shewing that they had foretold all these things, he captured the judge,
and almost persuaded him to come over to himself. For such are the souls
of holy men: when they have fallen into dangers, they do not consider how
they may be delivered from dangers, but strive every way how they may capture
their persecutors. Just so did it then happen. He came in to defend himself,
and he departed taking the judge with him!(1) And to this the judge bore
witness, saying, "Almost(2) thou persuadest me to be a Christian."(3) And
this ought to have happened to-day; and this Prefect, on coming among you,
ought to have admired your magnanimity, your fortitude, your perfect tranquillity;
and to have gone away, taking with him a lesson from your good order, admiring
your assembly, praising your congress, and learning from the actual fact,
how great a difference there is between Gentiles and Christians!
8. But as I was saying:--When Paul had caught him,
and he said, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian," Paul answered
thus, "I would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me this
day, were both almost and altogether such as I am, except these bonds."(4)
What sayest thou, O Paul? When thou writest to the Ephesians, thou sayest,
"I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you, that ye walk worthy
of the vocation wherewith ye are called."(5) And when thou speakest to
Timothy, "Wherein I suffer trouble as an evil-doer, even unto bonds."(6)
And again, when to Philemon, thus; "Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ."(7)
And again, when debating with the Jews, thou sayest, "For the hope of Israel
I am bound with this chain."(8) And writing to the Philippians, thou sayest,
"Many of the brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by my bonds, are much
more bold to speak the word without fear."(9) Every where thou bearest
about the chain, everywhere thou puttest forward thy bonds, and boastest
in the thing. But when thou comest to the tribunal, thou betrayest thy
philosophy, where it were right to have spoken the most boldly, and sayest
to the judge, "I would to God that thou mightest become a Christian 'without'
these bonds!" Yet surely if the bonds were good, and so good, that they
could be the means of making others to grow bold in the cause of true religion;
(for this very thing thou didst declare before, when thou saidst, "Many
of the brethren, waxing confident by my bonds, did speak the word without
fear"); for what reason dost thou not glory in this thing in the presence
of the judge, but doest even the reverse?
9. Does not what I say appear a question? The solution
of it, however, I will bring forward at once. For Paul acted thus, not
from distress or fear, but from an abundance of wisdom and spiritual understanding.
And how this was, I proceed to explain. He was addressing a Gentile, and
an unbeliever, who knew nothing of our matters. Hence he was unwilling
to introduce him by way of disagreeable things, but as he said, "I became
to them that are without law, as without law;"(10) so he acted in the present
instance. His meaning is, "If the Gentile hear of bonds and tribulations,
he will straightway be taking flight; since he knows not the power of bonds.
First, let him become a believer; let him taste of the word preached, and
then he will even of himself hasten towards these bonds. I have heard the
Lord saying, "No man putteth a piece of new cloth into an old garment,
for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the garment, and the
rent is made worse. Neither do men put new wine into old wine-skins; else
the wine-skins
449
burst."(1) The soul of this man is an old garment: an old wine-skin.
It is not renewed by the faith, nor renovated by the grace of the Spirit.
It is yet weak and earthly. It affects the things of this life. It flutters
eagerly after worldly show. It loves a glory that is present. Should he
hear at once, even from the first, that if he becomes a Christian he will
become immediately a prisoner, and will be encompassed with a chain; feeling
ashamed and indignant, he will recoil from the word preached. Therefore,
saith he, "Except these bonds."(2) Not as deprecating the bonds themselves,
God forbid! But condescending to the other's infirmity; for he himself
loved and welcomed his bonds, even as a woman fond of ornament doth her
jewels of gold. Whence is this apparent? "I rejoice," saith he, "in my
sufferings for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions
of Christ in my flesh."(3) And again; "Unto you it is given in the behalf
of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but to suffer for His sake."(4)
And again; "And not only so, but we also glory in tribulations."(5) Wherefore,
if he rejoices and glories in this, and calls it a gift of grace, it is
manifest that when he was addressing the judge, he spoke to him as he did,
for the reason assigned. Moreover, also in a different passage, when he
happened to find a necessity for glorying, he shews the very same by saying,
"Most gladly, therefore, will I glory in my infirmities ...... in reproaches,
in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, that the power of Christ
may rest upon me."(6) And again; "If I must needs glory, I will glory of
the things which concern mine infirmities."(7) And elsewhere, comparing
himself with others, and exhibiting to us his superiority in the comparison,
he thus speaks; "Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool), I am
more."(8) And wishing to shew this superiority, he did not say that he
had raised the dead, nor that he had expelled demons, nor that he had cleansed
lepers, nor that he had done any other thing of the sort, but that he had
suffered those innumerable hardships. Hence when he said," I am more,"
he presently cites the multitude of his trials; "In stripes, above measure,
in deaths oft, in prisons more frequent ..... of the Jews five times received
I forty stripes save one, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck,
a night and a day I have been in the deep;"(9) and all the rest. Thus Paul
everywhere glories in tribulations; and prides himself upon this circumstance
exceedingly. And very justly. For this it is which especially shews the
power of Christ, viz. that the Apostles conquered by such means; by bonds,
by tribulations, by scourgings, and the worst of ills.
10. For these two things Christ had announced, tribulation
and remission, labours and crowns, toils and rewards, things pleasant and
sad. Nevertheless, to the present life he assigns the sorrowful things;
but for the life to come, he has stored up those which are pleasant; at
once shewing that He did not mean to deceive men, and wishing by this arrangement
to diminish the burden of human woes. For the imposter first holds out
the things which are pleasant, and afterwards brings forward those which
are disagreeable. Thus for example:--Kidnappers, when they intend to steal
and carry off little children, do not promise them blows and stripes, or
any other thing of that kind, but offer them cakes, and sweetmeats, and
such like, by which the age of childhood is usually gratified; in order
that, enticed by these things, they may sell their liberty, and may fall
into the utmost peril. Moreover, bird-catchers, and fishermen, thus entice
the prey which they pursue, offering first their usual food, and such as
is agreeable to them, and by this means concealing the snare. So that this
is especially the work of imposters, first to hold out things which are
agreeable, but afterwards to introduce the things which are disagreeable.
But the case is altogether the reverse with those who are really careful
and provident for others. Fathers at least act quite in a contrary manner
to kidnappers. When they send their children to school, they set masters
over them, threaten them with stripes, and encompass them with fear on
all sides. But when they have thus spent the first portion of their lives,
and their habits are formed, they then put them in possession of honour,
and power, and luxury, and all the wealth that is theirs.
11. And thus God has acted. After the manner of
provident fathers, and not after that of kidnappers, He has first involved
us in things that are grievous; handing us over to present tribulation,
as it were to schoolmasters and teachers; in order that being chastened
and sobered by these things, after shewing forth all patience, and learning
all right discipline, we may afterwards, when formed into due habits, inherit
the kingdom of heaven. He first prepares and fits us for the management
of the wealth He is to give, and then puts us into the actual possession
of riches. For if He had not acted thus, the giving of riches would have
been no boon,
450
but a punishment and a vengeance. For even as a son that is senseless
and prodigal, when he has succeeded to a paternal inheritance, is precipitated
headlong by this very thing, having none of the practical wisdom requisite
for the economy of wealth; but if he be intelligent, and gentle, and sober,
and moderate, managing his paternal estate as is befitting, he becomes
by this means more illustrious and distinguished: so must it also necessarily
happen in our case. When we have acquired spiritual understanding, when
we have all attained to "perfect manhood," and the measure of full stature;"
then He puts us in possession of all that He has promised: but now as little
children He chastens us, together with consolation and soothing. And this
is not the only advantage of receiving the tribulation beforehand, but
there is also another, not less than this. For the man who first of all
lives luxuriously, and then has to expect punishment after his luxurious
living, has not even a sense of his present luxury, merely by reason of
the expectation of impending woes; but he who is first in a sorrowful state,
if he is anticipating the enjoyment of good things afterwards, overlooks
present difficulties, in the hope of the good things which are to come.
Not only, then, on account of our security, but also for our pleasure and
consolation hath He ordained that the things which are grievous should
be first; in order that being lightened with the hope of futurity, we should
be rendered insensible to what is present. And this Paul would shew and
make plain, when he said, "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. While
we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not
seen."(1) He calls tribulation light, not because of the intrinsic nature
of things that are grievous, but because of the expectation of good things
to come. For even as the merchant is indifferent to the labour that attends
navigation, being buoyed up with the hope of a cargo; and as the boxer
bravely sustains the blows on his head, looking to the crown beyond; so
also indeed do we, earnestly gazing towards heaven, and the good things
that are in the heavens, whatever evils come on us, sustain them all with
fortitude, being nerved with the good hope of the things to come.
12. Therefore let us go home, taking with us this
saying;(2) for though it be simple and short, it nevertheless contains
much of the doctrine of spiritual wisdom. He who is in a state of grief
and tribulation, hath a sufficient consolation; he who lives in luxury
and abundance, hath that which may greatly sober him. For when as thou
sittest at the table thou art reminded of this saying, thou wilt speedily
shrink from drunkenness and gluttony; learning through this sentence, how
needful it is for us to be striving; and thou wilt say with thyself, "Paul
lived in bonds and in dungeons, but I in drunkenness and at a luxurious
table! What pardon then shall I obtain?" This also is a fit saying for
women; since those who are fond of ornament, and expensive dresses, and
bind themselves about with gold on every side, when they remember this
chain, will hate, I feel assured, and abominate that adorning of themselves;
and will hasten to such bonds as these. For those ornaments have often
been the cause of manifold evils, and introduced a thousand quarrels into
a family, and have bred envy, and jealousy, and hatred. But these loosed
the sins of the wide world, affrighted demons, and drove away the devil.
With these, while tarrying in prison, he persuaded the jailor; with these
he attracted Agrippa himself; with these he procured many disciples. Therefore
he said, "Wherein I suffer trouble as an evil-doer unto bonds, but the
word of God is not bound."(3) For just as it is not possible to bind a
sunbeam, or to shut it up within the house, so neither the preaching of
the word; and what was much more, the teacher was bound, and yet the word
flew abroad; he inhabited the prison, and yet his doctrine rapidly winged
its way every where throughout the world!
Knowing these things then, let us not be depressed,
when adverse affairs meet us, but then let us be more strong, then more
powerful; "for tribulation worketh patience."(4) Let us not grieve for
the calamities which befall us, but let us in all things give thanks unto
God!
13. We have completed the second week of the fast,
but this we should not consider; for going through the fast does not consist
in merely going through the time, but in going through it with amendment
of manners. Let us consider this; whether we have become more diligent;
whether we have corrected any of our defects; whether we have washed away
our sins? It is common for every one to ask in Lent, how many weeks each
has fasted; and some may be heard saying that they have fasted two, others
three, and others that they have fasted the whole of the weeks. But what
advantage is it, if we have gone through
451
the fast devoid of good works? If another says, "I have fasted the whole
of Lent," do thou say, "I had an enemy, but I was reconciled; I had a custom
of evil-speaking, but I put a stop to it; I had a custom of swearing, but
I have broken through this evil practice." It is of no advantage to merchants,
to have gone over a great extent of ocean, but to have sailed with a freight
and much merchandise. The fast will profit us nothing, if we pass through
it as a mere matter of course, without any result. If we practise a mere
abstinence from meats, when the forty days are past, the fast is over too.
But if we abstain from sins, this still remains, even when the fast has
gone by, and will be from this time a continual advantage to us; and will
here render us no small recompense, before we attain unto the kingdom of
heaven. For as he who is living in iniquity, even before hell, hath punishment,
being stung by his conscience; so the man who is rich in good works, even
before the kingdom, will have the benefit of exceeding joy, in that he
is nourished with blessed hopes.
14. Therefore Christ says, "I will see you again,
and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you."(1)
A brief saying, but one that hath in it much consolation. What then is
this, "your joy no man taketh?" if thou hast money, many are able to take
away the joy that comes of thy wealth; as, for instance, a thief, by digging
through the wall; a servant by carrying off what was entrusted to him;
an emperor by confiscation; and the envious man by contumely. Should you
possess power, there are many who are able to deprive you of the joy of
it. For when the conditions of office are at an end, the conditions of
pleasure will also be ended. And in the exercise of office itself too,
there are many accidents occurring, which by bringing difficulty and care,
strike at the root of thy satisfaction. If thou hast bodily strength, the
assaults of disease put a stop to joy from that source. If thou hast beauty
and bloom, the approach of old age withers it, and takes away that joy.
Or if thou enjoyest a sumptuous table, when evening comes on the joy of
the banquet is at an end; for every thing belonging to this life is liable
to damage, and is unable to afford us a lasting pleasure; but piety and
the virtue of the soul is altogether the reverse of this. If thou hast
done an aims, no one is able to take away this good work. Though an army,
or kings, or myriads of calumniators and conspirators, were to beset thee
on all sides, they could not take away the possession, once deposited in
heaven; but the joy thereof continually abideth; for it is said, "He hath
dispersed, he hath given to the poor, his righteousness endureth for ever."(2)
And very justly; for in the storehouses of heaven it is laid up, where
no thief breaks in, nor robber seizes, nor moth devours.(3) If thou pourest
out continued and fervent prayers, no man will be able to spoil thee of
the fruit of them; for this fruit too is rooted in the heavens; it is out
of the way of all injury, and remains beyond mortal reach. If when evil-treated
thou has done a kind action; if thou hast borne with patience to hear thyself
evil spoken of; if thou hast returned blessings for reproaches; these are
good works that abide continually, and the joy of them no man taketh away;
but as often as thou rememberest these, thou art glad and rejoicest, and
reapest large fruits of pleasure. So also, indeed, if we succeed in avoiding
oaths; and persuade our tongue to abstain from this pernicious practice,
the good work will be finished in a short time, but the delight arising
from it will be continuous and unfailing.
17. And now, it is time that you should be teachers
and guides of others; that friends should undertake to instruct and lead
on their neighbours; servants their fellow-servants; and youths those of
their own age. What if any one had promised thee a single piece of gold
for every man who was reformed, wouldest thou not then have used every
exertion, and been all day long sitting by them, persuading and exhorting.
Yet now God promises thee not one piece of gold, nor ten, or twenty, or
a hundred, or a thousand; no, nor the whole earth, for thy labours, but
He gives thee that which is greater than all the world, the kingdom of
heaven; and not only this, but also another thing besides it. And what
kind of thing is that? "He who taketh forth the precious from the vile,"(4)
saith He, "shall be as my mouth."(5) What can be equal to this in point
of honour or security? What kind of excuse or pardon can be left to those,
who after so great a promise neglect their neighbour's safety? Now if you
see a blind man falling into a pit, you stretch forth a hand, and think
it a disgraceful thing to overlook one who is about to perish? But daily
beholding all thy brethren precipitated into the wicked custom of oaths,
dost thou not dare even to utter a word? Thou hast spoken once, perhaps,
and he hath not heard. Speak there-
452
fore twice, and thrice, and as often as it may be, till thou hast persuaded him. Every day God is addressing us, and we do not hear; and yet He does not leave off speaking. Do thou, therefore, imitate this tender care towards thy neighbour. For this reason it is that we are placed with one another; that we inhabit cities, and that we meet together in churches, in order that we may bear one another's burdens, that we may correct one another's sins. And in the same manner as persons inhabiting the same shop, carry on a separate traffic, yet put all afterwards into the common fund, so also let us act. Whatever advantages each man is able to confer upon his neighbour, let him not grudge, nor shrink from doing it, but let there be some such kind of spiritual commerce, and reciprocity; in order that having deposited every thing in the common store, and obtained great riches, and procured a large treasure, we may be all together partakers of the kingdom of heaven; through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom and with Whom, to the Father, with the Holy Ghost, be glory, both now and ever, and world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XVII.
Of the Commissioners(Hellebichus Commander of the Troops,(1) and Caesarius
Master of the Offices(2)) sent by the Emperor Theodosius for the inquisition
of the offenders, on account of the overturning of the Statues.
1. Most opportunely have we all this day sung together,
"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things. For
marvellous, and beyond all expectation, are the things which have happened?
A whole city, and so great a population, when just about to be overwhelmed--to
sink under the waves, and to be utterly and instantly destroyed--He hath
entirely rescued from shipwreck in a single moment of time! Let us give
thanks then, not only that God hath calmed the tempest, but that He suffered
it to take place; not only that He rescued us from shipwreck, but that
He allowed us to fall into such distress; and such an extreme peril to
hang over us. Thus also Paul bids us "in every thing give thanks."(4) But
when he says, "In every thing give thanks," he means not only in our deliverance
from evils, but also at the time when we suffer those evils. "For all things
work together for good to them that love God."(5) Let us be thankful to
Him for this deliverance from trials; and let us never forget them. Let
us devote ourselves to prayer, to continual supplications, and to much
piety.
2. When the sad conflagration of these calamities
was first kindled, I said, that it was a season not for doctrine, but for
prayer.(6) The very same thing I now repeat, when the fire has been extinguished--that
it is now especially, and more than before, a time for prayer; that now
is the season especially for tears and compunction, for an anxious soul,
for much diligence, and for much caution. For at that time the very nature
of our tribulation restrained us, however unwillingly, and disposed us
to sobriety; and led us to become more religious; but now when the bridle
is removed, and the cloud has passed away, there is fear lest we should
fall back again into sloth, or become relaxed by this respite; and lest
one should have reason to say of us too, "When He slew them, then they
sought Him, and returned, and enquired early after God."(7) Wherefore also
Moses admonished the Jews, saying, "When thou shalt have eaten, and
drunk, and art full, remember the Lord thy God."(8) The goodness of your
disposition will now be rendered manifest, if you continue in the practice
of the same piety. For at that time, many imputed your earnestness to fear,
and the approach of calamity; but now, it will be purely your own achievement,
if you still persevere in maintaining this earnestness. Since with a boy
too, as long as he is guided
453
by some tutor whom he fears, if he lives with sobriety and meekness,
there is nothing to admire, for all persons ascribe the sobriety of the
stripling to his fear of the tutor. But when he remains in the same seemly
behaviour, after the restraint from that quarter is done away with, all
persons give him credit too for the sobriety that was seen in his earlier
age. Thus also let us act; let us continue in the same state of godly fear,
in order that for our former diligence too we may gain much praise from
God.
3. We had expected innumerable woes; that our property
would be plundered, that the houses would have been burnt together with
their inmates, that the city would have been plucked up from the midst
of the world, that its very fragments would have been utterly destroyed,
and that its soil would have been placed under the plough! But, lo! all
these things existed only in expectation, and did not come into operation.
And this is not the only wonder, that God hath removed so great a danger,
but that He hath also greatly blessed us, and adorned our city; and by
this trial and calamity hath made us more approved! But how, I will state.
When those who were sent by the Emperor erected that fearful tribunal for
making inquisition into the events which had taken place, and summoned
every one to give account of the deeds which they had perpetrated, and
various anticipations of death pervaded the minds of all, then the monks
who dwelt on the mountain-tops shewed their own true philosophy. For although
they had been shut up so many years in their cells, yet at no one's entreaty,
by no one's counsel, when they beheld such a cloud overhanging the
city, they left their caves and huts, and flocked together in every direction,
as if they had been so many angels arriving from heaven. Then might one
see the city likened to heaven, while these saints appeared everywhere;
by their mere aspect consoling the mourners, and leading them to an utter
disregard of the calamity. For who on beholding these would not deride
death, would not despise life. And not only was this wonderful, but that
when they drew nigh to the magistrates themselves, they spoke to them with
boldness on behalf of the accused, and were all ready to shed their blood,
and to lay down their heads, so that they might snatch the captured from
the terrible events which they expected. They also declared that they would
not depart until the judges should spare the population of the city, or
send them themselves together with the accused to the Emperor. "He," said
they, "who rules over our portion of the world is a godly man, a believer,
one who lives in the practice of piety. We therefore shall assuredly reconcile
him. We will not give you leave, nor permit you to embrue the sword, or
take off a head. But if ye do not desist, we also are quite resolved to
die with them. We confess that the crimes committed are very heinous; but
the iniquity of those deeds does not surpass the humanity of the Emperor."
One of them is also reported to have uttered another saying, full of wisdom,
to this effect:(1) "The Statues which have been thrown down are again set
up, and have resumed their proper appearance; and the mischief was speedily
rectified; but if ye put to death the image of God, how will ye be again
able to revoke the deed! or how to reanimate those who are deprived of
life, and to restore their souls to their bodies?" Many things too they
said to them of the Judgment.
4. Who could but be astonished? Who could but admire
the moral wisdom of these men? When the mother of one of the accused, uncovering
her head, and exposing her grey hairs, laid hold of the horse of the judge
by the bridle, and running beside him through the forum, thus entered with
him the place of justice, we were all struck with astonishment, we all
admired that exceeding tenderness and magnanimity.(2) Ought we not, then,
to have been much more impressed with wonder at the conduct of these men?
For if she had even died for her son, it would have been nothing strange,
since great is the tyranny of nature, and irresistible is the obligation
arising from the maternal pangs! But these men so loved those whom they
had not begotten, whom they had not brought up, yea rather, whom they had
never seen, whom they had not heard of, whom they had never met, whom they
knew only from their calamity, that if they had possessed a thousand lives,
they would have chosen to deliver them all up for their safety. Tell me
not that they were not slaughtered, that they did not pour forth their
blood, but that they used as much boldness with their judges as it was
likely that no other men would do, but such as had already renounced their
own lives; and that with this sentiment they ran from the mountains to
the tribunal. For, indeed, if they had not before prepared themselves against
every sort of slaughter, they would not have been able to speak thus freely
to the judges, or to have manifested such magnanimity. For they remained
all day long sitting before
454
the doors of the place of justice, being prepared to snatch from the
hands of the executioners those who were about to be led off to punishment!
5. Where now are those who are clad in threadbare
cloaks, and display a long beard, and carry staves in the right hand; the
philosophers of the world,(1) who are more abject in disposition than the
dogs under the table; and do every thing for the sake of the belly? All
these men then forsook the city, they all hasted away, and hid themselves
in caves! But they only, who truly by works manifest the love of wisdom,
appeared as fearlessly in the forum, as if no evil had overtaken the city.
And the inhabitants of the city fled away to the mountains and to the deserts,
but the citizens of the desert hastened into the city; demonstrating by
deeds what, on the preceding days, I have not desisted from saying, that
the very furnace will not be able to harm the man who leads a virtuous
life. Such a thing is philosophy of soul, rising superior to all things,
and to all prosperous or adverse events; for neither is it enfeebled by
the former, nor beaten down and debased by the latter, but abides on the
same level through the whole course of things, shewing its own native force
and power! Who, indeed, was not convicted of weakness by the difficulty
of the present crisis? Those who had held the first offices in our city,
who were in places of power, who were surrounded with immense wealth, and
who were in high favour with the Emperor, leaving their houses utterly
deserted, all consulted their own safety, and all friendship and kindred
were found worthless, and those whom they formerly knew, at this
season of calamity, they desired not to know, and prayed to be unknown
of them! But the monks, poor as they were, having nothing more
than a mean garment, who had lived in the coarsest manner, who seemed formerly
to be nobodies, men habituated to mountains and forests; as if they had
been so many lions, with a great and lofty soul, whilst all were fearing
and quaking, stood forth and relieved the danger, and that, not in the
course of many days, but in a brief moment of time! And as distinguished
warriors without coming into close conflict with their adversaries, but
merely by making their appearance in the ranks, and shouting, put the foe
to rout, so also these in one day descended, and said their say, and removed
the calamity, and returned to their own tabernacles. So great is the moral
wisdom that was brought among men by Christ.
6. And why do I speak of the rich, and of those
in authority? When those very persons who had been invested with power
to judge the criminals; who acted with the highest authority, were entreated
by these selfsame monks to grant a sentence of pardon, they said, they
had no power over the result; for that it was unsafe and dangerous, not
only to insult the Emperor, but even to dismiss those who had insulted
him, when taken, without punishment. But these men were too powerful for
any one to resist; and besieging them by magnanimity and perseverance,
they induced these officers by their importunity to exercise a power which
they had not received from the Emperor; and even succeeded in persuading
the judges, when men had been manifestly convicted of the guilt, not to
declare the sentence of condemnation, but to defer the final result to
the decision of the Emperor; and they promised certainly to persuade him
to grant a pardon to those who had transgressed against him; and they were
about to set out on a journey to him. But the judges, reverencing the moral
wisdom of these men, and being struck with their loftiness of spirit, did
not permit them to undertake this long journey, but promised that if they
should only receive their words in writing, they would themselves depart
and successfully importune(2) the Emperor to dismiss all anger (which,
indeed, we are now expecting that he will). For when sentence should have
been given, they, on being admitted into court, uttered words of the highest
wisdom, and besought the Emperor by letters to shew mercy; and they reminded
him of the Judgment, and said that they would lay down their own heads,
if his mercy was not granted. And the judges took down these words in writing,
and departed. This, more than the brightest crown, will adorn our city.
And what has here taken place, the Emperor will now hear; yea, the great
City will hear, and the whole world will hear, that the monks who dwell
at the city of Antioch, are men who have displayed an apostolic boldness;
and now when their letters are read at court, all men will admire their
magnanimity; all men will call our city blessed; and we shall shake off
our evil reputation; and it will be known every where, that what has happened
was not the work of the inhabitants of the city, but of strangers and corrupt-minded
men; and that this testimony of the monks will be a sufficient evidence
of the character of the city.
455
7. Therefore, beloved, let us not be distressed,
but let us entertain favourable hopes; for if their boldness toward men
has been able to prevent such a danger, then what will not their boldness
toward God effect? These things also let us tell the Greeks, when they
dare to dispute with us respecting their philosophers! From hence it is
manifest that their stories of former days are false, but that the things
of old reported among us are true; that is, the things concerning John,
and Paul, and Peter, and all the rest. For inasmuch as these monks have
succeeded to the piety of those men, they have consequently exhibited their
boldness. Inasmuch as they were brought up in the same laws, they have
consequently imitated their virtues. So that we stand in no need of writings
for the purpose of shewing the apostolical virtues, whilst the very facts
cry aloud, and the masters are shewn forth by the scholars. We have no
need of disputation to display the trifling of the Greeks, and the little-mindedness
of their philosophers, whilst their deeds now loudly proclaim, as they
did aforetime, that all with them is a fable, a stage-play, a piece of
acting.
8. And the same magnanimity was displayed by the
priests too, as well as the monks, and they shared among them the charge
of our safety. One(1) of them, indeed, proceeded to court, esteeming all
things as secondary to the love of you; and being himself ready, if he
could not persuade the Emperor, to lay down his own life. And these, who
remained here, have displayed the same virtues as the monks themselves;
and holding fast the judges with their own hands, they would not let them
enter into the court, before they gave a promise respecting the result
of the trial. And when they saw them making signs of refusal, they again
exerted themselves with much boldness; and as soon as they saw that they
did consent, embracing their feet and knees, and kissing their hands, they
gave an exceeding proof of either virtue, of liberty and meekness. For
that theirs was not the boldness of presumption, they plainly signified
by their kissing the knees, and embracing the feet of the judges. Again,
in proof that this was not flattery, nor a kind of fawning servility, nor
the fruit of a slavish spirit, their former acts attested their boldness.
And these are not the only good results we have reaped from the trial,
but also an abundance of sobriety and meekness; and our city has become
all at once a monastery.(2) Not thus would any one have adorned it, had
he erected golden statues in the forum, as it has now been adorned and
distinguished, in producing those beautiful images of virtue, and displaying
its true riches!
9. But it may be that the things which the Emperor
hath decreed are painful. No! not even these are really burdensome, but
have brought much advantage with them. For what is there, I ask, which
is oppressive in any of them? that the Emperor hath shut up the Orchestra,
that he hath forbidden the Hippodrome, that he hath closed and stopped
up these fountains of iniquity. May they never again be opened! From thence
did the roots of wickedness shoot forth to the injury of the city!(3) From
thence sprung those who blast its character; men who sell their voices(4)
to the dancers, and who for the sake of three obols prostitute their salvation
to them, turning all things upside down! Art thou distressed, O beloved!
for these things? Truly it were fitting that for these thou shouldest be
glad, and rejoice, and express thy thanks to the Emperor, since his castigation
hath proved a correction, his punishment a discipline, his wrath a means
of instruction! But that the Baths are shut up? Neither is this an intolerable
hardship, that those who lead a soft, effeminate, and dissolute life, should
be brought back, though unwillingly, to the love of true wisdom.
10. But is it complained of, that the Emperor hath
taken away the dignity of the city, and hath no more permitted it to be
called a metropolis?(5) But what was he to do? Could he praise what had
been done, and acknowledge it as a favour? Then who would not have blamed
him, for not shewing even the outward form of indignation? Seest thou not
that fathers do many things of a similar nature towards their children?
They turn away from them, and forbid them the table. This also hath the
Emperor done by imposing such punishments as have nothing in them hurtful,
but carry with them much correction. Think what we expected, and what has
taken place, and then we shall especially discern the favour of God! Dost
thou grieve that the dignity of the city is taken away? Learn what the
dignity of a city is; and then thou wilt know clearly, that if the inhabitants
do not betray it, no one else will be able to take away the dignity of
a city! Not the fact that it is a metropolis; nor that it contains large
and beautiful buildings;(6) nor that
456
it has many columns, and spacious porticoes and walks, nor that it is
named in proclamations before other cities, but the virtue and piety of
its inhabitants; this is a city's dignity, and ornament, and defence; since
if these things are not found in it, it is the most insignificant in the
world, though it may enjoy unlimited honour from Emperors! Dost thou wish
to learn the dignity of thy city? Dost thou wish to know its ancestry?
I will tell it exactly; not only that thou mayest know, but that thou mayest
also emulate. What then is after all the dignity of this city of ours?
"It came to pass, that the disciples were first called Christians at Antioch."
This dignity, none of the cities throughout the world possesses, not even
the city of Romulus herself! For this it can look the whole world in the
face; on account of that love toward Christ, that boldness and virtue.(2)
Dost thou wish farther to hear of a different dignity and commendation
belonging to this city? A grievous famine was once approaching, and the
inhabitants of Antioch determined, as far as each person had the means,
to send relief to the Saints dwelling at Jerusalem.(3) Behold a second
dignity, charity in a time of famine! The season did not make them niggardly,
nor the expectation of the calamity backward in helping; but when all are
apt to be scraping up what is not their own, then they distributed their
own, not merely to those who were near, but also to those who were living
afar off! Seest thou here the faith towards God, and the love towards their
neighbour? Wouldest thou learn another dignity of this city? Certain men
came down from Judaea to Antioch, defiling(4) the doctrine preached, and
introducing Jewish observances.(5) The men of Antioch did not bear this
novelty in silence. They did not hold their peace, but having come together,
and made an assembly, they sent Paul and Barnabas to Jerusalem, and caused
the Apostles to provide that pure doctrines, cleared from all Jewish imperfection,
might be distributed throughout all parts of the world! This is the dignity
of the city! this is its precedence! this makes it a metropolis, not in
the earth, but in heaven; forasmuch as that all other honours are corruptible,
and fleeting, and perish with the present life, and often come to their
end before the close of it, as they have done in the present instance!
To me, a city that hath not pious citizens is meaner than any village,
and more ignoble than any cave.
11. And why do I speak of a city? For that thou
mayest exactly understand that virtue alone is the ornament of the inhabitants,
I will not speak to thee of a city, but I will endeavour to demonstrate
this by bringing forward what is more venerable than any city--the Temple
of God which was in Jerusalem. For this was the Temple in which were sacrifices
and prayers and services; where was the Holy of Holies, and the Cherubim,
the Covenant,(6) and the golden pot;(7) the great symbols of God's providence
towards that people; where oracles from heaven were constantly being received,
where prophets became inspired, where the fashioning was not the work of
human art, but proceeded from the wisdom of God, where the walls were on
every side resplendent with much gold, and where, in surpassing excellence,
costliness of material and perfection of art met together, and demonstrated
that there was no other temple like this upon earth! Yea rather, not only
the perfection of art, but also the wisdom of God assisted in that building.
For Solomon had learned all, not intuitively and from himself, but from
God;(8) and having received the design of it from the heavens, he then
marked it out and erected it. Nevertheless, this Temple, thus beautiful
and marvellous and sacred, when those who used it were corrupted, was so
dishonoured, despised, and profaned, that even before the captivity it
was called "a den of robbers, a cave of hyaenas;"(9) and afterwards it
was delivered over to hands that were barbarous, polluted, and profane!
12. Wouldest thou learn the same truth respecting
cities? What could be more illustrious than the cities of Sodom? For the
houses and the buildings were splendid, and so were their walls; and the
country was fat and fertile, and" like the Paradise of God."(10) But the
tent of Abraham was mean and small, and had no fortification. Yet when
a foreign war took place, the strangers broke down and took the walled
cities, and departed, carrying away their inhabitants captives. Abraham,
however, the citizen of the desert, they could not resist when he attacked
them! And so it was likely to be. For he had true piety: a power much greater
than numbers and the defence of walls. If thou art a Christian, no earthly
city is thine. Of our City "the Builder and Maker is God."(11) Though we
may gain possession of the whole world, we are withal but strangers
and sojourners in it all! We are enrolled in heaven: our citizenship is
there! Let us not, after the manner of little children, despise things
that are great, and admire those which are little! Not our city's greatness,
but virtue of soul is our ornament and defence. If you suppose dignity
to belong to a city, think how many persons must partake in this dignity,
who are whoremongers, effeminate, depraved and full of ten thousand evil
things, and at last despise such honour! But that City above is not of
this kind; for it is impossible that he can be a partaker of it, who has
not exhibited every virtue.
13. Let us not therefore be senseless; but then
let us grieve when any one deprives us of our dignity of soul, when we
commit sin, when we have offended the common Lord of all; since as regards
the things that have now befallen us, so far are they from injuring the
city, that if we are watchful, they will greatly benefit us. For even already
our city seems to be like a decorous, noble, sober-minded matron. Fear
hath made her gentler and more dignified, and hath delivered her from those
miscreants who were concerned in the late audacious deeds. Let us therefore
not give way to womanish lamentations. For I have heard many about the
forum saying, "Alas! for thee, Antioch! What hath befallen thee! How art
thou dishonoured!" Truly when I heard, I smiled at the puerile mind which
could give vent to these words! Such words were not becoming now; but when
thou seest men dancing, drunken, singing, blaspheming, swearing, perjuring
themselves, and lying, then apply such a saying as this: "Alas! for thee,
O city, what hath befallen thee!" But if thou seest the forum containing
a few meek, modest, and temperate persons, then pronounce the city, "Blessed!"
For the fewness will never be able to injure it in any respect, if there
be virtue withal; as on the other hand, numbers will never profit it at
all, whilst iniquity is there. "If," saith the prophet, "the number of
the sons of Israel be as the sand of the sea, the remnant shall be saved;"(1)
that is to say, "Multitude will never prevail with Me." So also Christ
spoke. He called cities wretched; not because of their littleness, nor
because they were not of metropolitan rank.(2) And Jerusalem itself again,
He calls wretched for the very same reason, speaking thus; "O Jerusalem,
Jerusalem; thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent
unto thee!"(3) For what advantage, I ask, does a multitude bring, if their
system of living be vicious? Nay, on the contrary, even injury results
from it. What else, indeed, hath wrought the evils which have lately sprung
up? Was it not the sloth, the recklessness, and the depravity of the inhabitants?
Did the dignity of the city, did the magnificence of its architecture,
or the circumstance that it was a metropolis, do it any service? If with
the king who is on earth, nothing could protect it when it had done thus
amiss, but all these privileges are taken away; much more with the Lord
of angels will its dignity fail to protect it? For at that Day, it will
nought avail us, that we have dwelt in a metropolis, that has many spacious
porticoes, and other dignities of this kind! And why do I say, at That
Day? For as regards the present life, what can it benefit thee that
this thy city is a metropolis? Pray, has any one restored a distressed
family by means of this? or received any revenue from this dignity? or
dispelled sadness? or got rid of any bodily infirmity? or put away a vice
of the soul? Beloved! let us not trifle, nor regard the opinions of the
multitude, but understand what is indeed the dignity of a city; what it
is that makes a city truly a metropolis?
14. I say all this, though I expect that the city
will again regain even this outward distinction, and appear in its own
proper place of precedence. For the Emperor is both philanthropic and godly.
But I am desirous that if it should be restored, ye may not think too much
of this; nor be boastful of it; nor place the honour of our city to that
account. When you wish to pronounce an encomium on the city, tell me not
of the suburb of Daphne,(4) nor of the height and multitude of its cypresses,
nor of its fountains of waters, nor of the great population who inhabit
the city, nor of the great freedom with which its market-place is frequented
even to midnight, nor of the abundance of its wares! All these are things
of the outward sense, and remain only as long as the present life. But
if you are able to mention virtue, meekness, alms-giving, nocturnal vigils,
prayers, sobriety, true wisdom of soul; commend the city for these things!
To those who inhabit the desert, the presence of these things makes it
458
more illustrious than any city; and again the vilest of all places,(1)
should these things not be found with its citizens. Let us make this estimate
not in the case of cities only, but also of men. And if you see a big man,
who has been brought into good condition, tall, and surpassing others in
length of limb, do not admire him, until you have ascertained what the
man's soul is. Not from the outward comeliness, but from the beauty that.
appertains to the soul, should we pronounce any persons blessed! David
was little, and short of stature; nevertheless, one so short and little,
and bare of all arms, brought down at one blow so large an army, and treat
tower of flesh; and this without hurling spear, or letting fly arrow, or
unsheathing sword, but doing all with a small pebble! For this reason a
certain one exhorts, saying," Commend not a man for his beauty, neither
abhor a man for his outward appearance. The bee is little among such as
fly, but her fruit is the chief of sweet things."(2)
15. Thus also let us speak both of a city, and of
men, and utter such wisdom one to an other, and be continually thankful
to God, as well for present as for past mercies; and call upon Him in common
with all our might, that those who now dwell in prison(3) may be discharged,
and that those who are about to be sent into exile may return back again.
They too are our members. With us they have buffetted the waves, with us
they have withstood the storm! Let us, then, beseech the merciful God,
that with us they may enjoy the calm! Let no one say, "What farther concerns
me? I am freed from danger; such an one may perish; such another may be
destroyed!" Let us not provoke God by this indifference; but lament, as
if we ourselves were in the same peril. So let us supplicate God with intense
earnestness, fulfilling that saying of Paul, "Remember them that are in
bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves
also in the body.(4) Weeping also with them that weep; condescending to
men of low estate."(5) This will also be of the greatest advantage to ourselves;
for nothing useth so much to delight God, as that we should be very ready
to mourn for our own members. Him therefore let us supplicate in common,
both for things present, and for things to come; in order that He may deliver
us from punishment hereafter. For the things present, whatever they are,
are endurable, and have an end; but the torments there are immortal, and
interminable! And while we are consoled, let us also ourselves endeavour
to fall no more into such sins, knowing that hereafter(6) we shall enjoy
no pardon! Let us, then, all in common prostrate ourselves before God;
and both while we are here, and when we are at home, let us say, "Thou,
O Lord, art righteous in all things which Thou hast done towards us; for
Thou hast brought upon us by a just judgment whatever Thou hast brought."(7)
If "our sins rise up against us, undertake for us, for thy Name's sake;"(8)
and do not permit us any more to experience such grievous troubles. "Lead
us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the kingdom,
the Power, and the Glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY XVIII.
The former subject of the Sedition continued; also of fasting; and upon
the Apostolic
saying, "Rejoice in the Lord always."(1)
1. I HAVE observed many persons rejoicing, and saying one to another, "We have conquered; we have prevailed; the half of the fast is spent." But I exhort such persons not to rejoice on this account, that the half of the fast is gone, but to consider whether the half of their sins be gone; and if so, then to exult. For this is a fit subject of gratification. This is what is to be sought after, and for which all things are done, that we may correct our defects; and that we may not quit the fast the same persons as we entered upon it, but in a cleansed state; and
459
that having laid aside all that belongs to evil habits, we may thus
keep the sacred feast, since if the case be otherwise, we shall be so far
from obtaining any advantage, that the completion of the fast will be the
greatest injury to us. Let us, therefore, not rejoice that we have gone
through the length of the fast, for this is nothing great; but let us rejoice,
if we have got through it with fresh attainments, so that when this is
over, the fruit of it may shine forth. For the gain of winter is more especially
manifested after the season is gone by. Then, the flourishing corn, and
the trees teeming with leaves and fruit, proclaim, by their appearance,
the benefit that has accrued to them from the winter Let the same thing
also take place with us. For during the winter, we have enjoyed divers
and frequent showers, having been during the fast partakers of a continued
course of instruction, and have received spiritual seeds, and cut away
the thorns of luxury.
2. Wherefore let us persevere, retaining with all
diligence what we have heard; that when the fast is over, the fruit of
the fast may abound, and that by the good things we gathered from the fast,
we may remember the fast itself.(1) If thus we fashion ourselves, we shall,
when the fast returns, welcome it again with pleasure. For I see many who
are so feeble-minded, that at the present season they are anxious about
the following Lent; and I have heard many saying, that after their liberation
from the fast, they are insensible to any pleasure from this remission,
on account of their anxiety about the coming year. What can be more feeble-minded
than this? I ask; and what is the cause of this? It is, that when the fast
is arrived, we do not take pains that the concerns of the soul may be well
ordered, but we limit the fast solely to an abstinence from food. Since,
were we to reap the full benefit of it in a reformation of conduct, we
should wish the fast to come round every day, receiving in very deed an
experience of its good effects; and we should never cast away the desire
of it, or be dejected and anxious whilst expecting it.
3. For there is nothing whatever that will be able
to afflict one who is well ordered in mind, and careful about his own soul;
but he will enjoy a pure and continued pleasure. And that this is true
ye have to-day heard from Paul, who exhorts us, saying, "Rejoice in the
Lord always, and again I say, rejoice."(2) I know indeed that to many this
saying seems impossible. "For how is it possible," says some one, "that
he who is but a man, can continually rejoice? To rejoice is no hard matter,
but to rejoice continually, this seems to me to be impossible." For many
are the causes of sadness, which surround us on all sides. A man has lost
either a son, or a wife, or a beloved friend, more necessary to him than
all kindred; or he has to sustain the loss of wealth; or he has fallen
into sickness; or he has to bear some other change of fortune; or to grieve
for contemptuous treatment which he did not deserve; or famine, or pestilence,
or some intolerable exaction, or circumstances in his family trouble him;--nay,
there is no saying how many circumstances of a public or private nature
are accustomed to occasion us grief. How then, he may say, is it possible
to "rejoice always?" Yea, Oman! it is possible; and if it were not so,
Paul would not have given the exhortation; nor would a man endowed with
spiritual wisdom have offered such counsel; and for this reason I have
constantly said to you, and will not cease to say, that what ye could no
where have learnt from any other, that wisdom ye may here meditate. For
mankind are universally desirous of pleasure,(3) and of rejoicing; and
for this, they do all, say all, and undertake all things. Therefore it
is, that the merchant goes on a voyage, in order that he may amass wealth;
and he amasses wealth, to the end that he may rejoice over what he has
treasured up. The soldier also for this reason exercises his warfare, and
the husbandman his husbandry; for this each man plies his art. Those also
who love dominion, love it for this end, that they may obtain glory; and
they desire to obtain glory, that they may rejoice; and any one may perceive
that each of our undertakings is directed to this point, and that every
man looking to this makes haste to go towards it through a variety of means.
4. For as I said, all love gladness, but all are
not able to attain it, since they know not the way which leads to it; but
many suppose that the source of it is in being rich. But if this were its
source, no one possessed of wealth would ever be sad. But in fact many
of the rich think life not worth living, and would infinitely prefer death
when they experience any hardship; and of all men these are the most liable
to excessive sadness. For you should not look to their tables, or their
flatterers, and parasites, but to the trou-
460
ble that comes of such things, the insults, the calumnies, the dangers,
and the distresses, and what is far worse, that they meet these reverses
unpractised, and know not how to take them philosophically, or to bear
with fortitude what befalls them; whence it happens that calamities do
not appear to them such as they are in their own nature, but even things
which are really light come to seem intolerable; whereas, with regard to
the poor, the contrary takes place; things that are irremediable seem easy
to be borne, since they are familiar with many such. For it is not so much
the nature of the events as the disposition of the sufferers, that makes
the evils which come upon us seem great or small. And that I may not go
a long way off for examples of both these facts, I will speak to you of
what has lately befallen ourselves. Behold then how all the poor escaped,
and the populace are delivered from the danger, and enjoy an entire freedom!
but those who manage the affairs of the city, the men who keep their studs
of horses, and preside over the public games, and such as have borne other
public charges,(1) they are now the inmates of the prison, and fear the
worst; and they alone pay the penalty of the deeds that have been perpetrated
by all, and are in a state of constant terror; and they are now the most
wretched of men, not because of the greatness of the danger, but on account
of the luxury in which hitherto they have lived! Many, at least when exhorted
by us, and counselled to sustain these adverse affairs with fortitude,
said this, "We never practised any thing of the kind, and do not know how
to exercise such philosophy; this is why we need so much consolation."
5. Others again suppose, that to enjoy good health
is the source of pleasure. But it is not so. For many of those who
enjoy good health have a thousand times wished themselves dead, not being
able to bear the insults inflicted on them. Others again affirm, that to
enjoy glory, and to have attained to power, and to administer the highest
offices, and to be flattered by multitudes, is productive of continual
gladness. But neither is this the case. And why do I speak of other
offices of power? For although we were to mount up in thought to royalty
itself, and to him who lives in that station, we should find it encompassed
with a diversity of troubles, and having so many necessary causes the more
of sadness, in proportion as it is surrounded with a greater weight of
affairs. And what need is there to speak of wars, and battles, and the
insurrections of barbarians? Oftentimes he has reason to fear those by
whom he is surrounded at home. For many of those monarchs who have escaped
from the hands of their enemies, have not escaped the conspiracies of their
own body-guards. And kings have of necessity as many causes of sadness
as there are waves on the ocean. But if monarchy is unable to render life
devoid of grief, then what else can possibly achieve this? Nothing, indeed,
of this life; but this saying of Paul alone, brief and simple as it is,
will of itself open to us this treasure.
6. For many words are not needed, nor a long round
of argument, but if we only consider his expression, we shall find the
way that leads to it. He does not simply say, "Rejoice always;" but he
adds the cause of the continual pleasure, saying, "Rejoice in the Lord
always." He who rejoices "in the Lord," can not be deprived of the pleasure
by any thing that may happen. For all other things in which we rejoice
are mutable and changeable, and subject to variation. And not only does
this grievous circumstance attend them, but moreover while they remain
they do not afford us a pleasure sufficient to repel and veil the sadness
that comes upon us from other quarters. But the fear of God contains both
these requisites. It is steadfast and immoveable, and sheds so much gladness
that we can admit no sense of other evils. For the man who fears God as
he ought, and trusts in Him, gathers from the very root of pleasure, and
has possession of the whole fountain of cheerfulness. And as a spark falling
upon a wide ocean quickly disappears, so whatever events happen to the
man who fears God, these, falling as it were upon an immense ocean of joy,
are quenched and destroyed! This indeed is most to be wondered at, that
whilst things which minister sadness are present, the man should remain
joyful. For if there was nothing to produce grief, it would be no great
matter to him that he was able continually to rejoice. But that at a time
when he is urged to sadness by the pressure of many things, he is superior
to all these, and is blithe in the midst of sorrow. this is truly a matter
for astonishment! And as no one would have wondered that the three Children
were not burnt, if they had remained far off from the furnace of Babylon!
(for the circumstance that astonished all was, that having been so long
in such close contact with the fire, they left it more free from hurt than
those who had not been in contact with it); so also we are able to say
of the saints, that if no temptation had fastened itself upon
461
them, we should not have wondered at their continual rejoicing. But
the point worthy of admiration, and that which surpasses human nature,
is this, that being encircled on all sides with innumerable waves, their
condition is easier than that of those who enjoy an entire calm!
7. From what has been said, it is evident that amongst
those who are outside the church it is impossible to find any situation
in life, encircled with continual gladness from the things without. But
that the believer cannot possibly be deprived of the enjoyment of a continued
pleasure is what I will now proceed to prove, to the end that ye may not
only learn, but also emulate this painless condition of life. For suppose
a man having nothing for which to condemn himself, but cherishing a good
conscience, and yearning after the future state, and the fulfilment of
those good hopes; what, I ask, will be able to throw such a person into
sadness? Does not death seem the most insupportable of all things? Yet
the expectation of this is so far from grieving him, that it makes him
the more joyful; for he knows that the arrival of death is a release from
labour, and a speeding toward the crowns and rewards laid up for those
who have contended in the race of piety and virtue. But is it the untimely
end of his children? Nay, he will also bear this nobly, and will take up
the words of Job, "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; as it seemed
good unto the Lord, so is it come to pass. Blessed be the name of the Lord
for ever."(1) But if death and loss of children cannot grieve, much less
can the loss of money, or dishonour, or reproaches, or false accusations,
at any time affect a soul so great and noble; no, nor anguish of body,
since the Apostles were scourged, yet they were not made sad. This, indeed,
was a great thing; but what is much more, instead of being made sad, they
considered their very scourgings, as a ground of additional pleasure. "And
they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were
counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of Christ."(2) Did any person
insult and revile such a one? Well, he was taught by Christ to rejoice
in these revilings. "Rejoice,"(3) saith He, "and be exceeding glad, when
they shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake; for
great is your reward in heaven."(4) But suppose a man hath fallen into
disease? Well, he hath heard another admonishing, and saying, "In disease
and poverty trust thou in Him; for as gold is tried in the fire, so are
acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation."(5) Since, therefore, neither
death, nor loss of money, nor bodily disease, nor dishonour,
nor reproach, nor any other thing of that nature, will be able to grieve
him, but makes him even the more joyful, what foundation for sadness will
he have at any time?
8. "What then," says some one, "used not the Saint
to be in sadness? Do you not hear Paul saying, "I have great heaviness,
and continual sorrow in my heart?"(6) This, indeed, is the thing to wonder
at, that sorrow brought a gain, and a pleasure that resulted from the gain;
for as the scourge did not procure them anguish, but gladness; so also
again the sorrow procured them those great crowns. And this is the paradox;
that not only the sadness of the world, but also its joy, contains extreme
loss; but in the case of spiritual things, it is exactly the reverse; and
not the joy only, but the sadness too contains a rich treasure of good
things! But how, I proceed to explain. In the world, a person often rejoices,
on beholding an enemy in trouble; and by this joy he draws on himself a
great punishment. Again, another person mourns, on seeing a brother fall;
and because of this sadness he will procure for himself much favour with
God. Seest thou how godly sorrow is better and more profitable than the
joy of the world? Thus also Paul sorrowed for sinners, and for those who
disbelieved in God; and this sorrow was the means of laying up a great
reward for him. But that I may make what I say more clear, and that ye
may know that although what I assert is very strange, it is nevertheless
true, viz. that grief is often capable of refreshing distressed souls,
and of rendering a burdened conscience light: consider how often women,
when they have lost their most beloved children, break their hearts, and
perish, if they are forbidden to mourn, and to shed tears. But if they
do all which those who are sad, are wont to do, they are relieved, and
receive consolation. And what wonder that this should be the case with
women, when you may even see a prophet affected in a similar manner?
Therefore he was continually saying, "Suffer me--I will weep bitterly--labour
not to comfort me, because of the spoiling of the daughter of my people."(7)
So that, oftentimes, sadness is the bearer of consolation; and if it is
so with regard to this world. much more with regard to spiritual things.
462
Therefore he says, "Godly sorrow worketh repentance unto salvation,
not to be repented of."(1) This indeed seems to be obscure; but what he
says is to this effect: "If thou grievest over wealth, thou art nothing
profited. If for sickness, thou hast gained nothing, but hast increased
thy affliction."
9. And I have heard many, after such experience,
blame themselves, and say, What advantage is it that I have grieved? I
have not recovered my money, and I have injured myself. But if thou hast
grieved on account of sin, thou hast blotted it out, and hast reaped the
greatest pleasure. If thou hast grieved for thy brethren who have fallen,
thou hast both encouraged and comforted thyself, and hast also restored
them; and even if thou wert not to profit them, thou hast an abundant recompense.
And that thou mayest learn that this grieving for those who have fallen,
though we should not at all benefit them, still brings us a large reward,
hear what Ezekiel says; or rather, what God Himself speaks through him.
For when He had sent certain messengers to overturn the city, and to consume
all the dwellings with sword and fire, along with their inhabitants, He
thus charges one of them: "Set a mark upon the forehead of the men that
groan, and are in anguish." And after charging the others, and saying,
"Begin ye from mine holy ones," He goes on to add, "But upon whomsoever
the sign is, touch them not."(2) For what reason, tell me? Because although
they avail nothing, they nevertheless lament the things which are done,
and deplore them. And again, He accuses others, saying, That in their luxury,
and gluttony, and enjoyment of great security, when they beheld the Jews
carried away into captivity, they did not grieve, nor partake of their
sadness. And hear what He says, reproaching them: "They suffered nothing
in the affliction of Joseph:"(3) meaning by Joseph the whole people. And
again: "The inhabitants of AEnan went not forth to bewail the house next
unto them."(4) For although they are justly punished, God willeth that
we should condole with them, and not rejoice or insult. "For if I that
punish," saith He, "do not this rejoicingly; nor take pleasure in their
punishment; for "I do not at all will the death of the sinner;"(5) it is
right that thou shouldest imitate thy Lord; and shouldest mourn for this
very thing, that the sinner hath provided matter and occasion for a just
punishment." So that if any one entertains a godly sorrow,
he will thence reap a great advantage.
10. Since therefore those who are scourged are more
blessed than the scourgers, and those in tribulation among us than those
who are free from it outside the Christian pale; and those who are sad
are more blessed than those in pleasure; what further source of tribulation
shall we have? On this account we should call no man happy, save him only
who lives according to God. These only the Scripture terms blessed. For
"blessed," it is said, "is the man who hath not walked in the counsel of
the ungodly. Blessed is he whom Thou chastenest, and teachest him out of
Thy law. Blessed are the undefiled in the way. Blessed are all they who
trust in Him. Blessed is the people whose God is the Lord. Blessed is he
whom his soul condemneth not. Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord."(6)
And again, Christ speaks thus: "Blessed are they that mourn; blessed are
the humble; blessed are the meek; blessed are the peacemakers; blessed
are they who are persecuted for righteousness' sake."(7) Seest thou how
the divine laws everywhere pronounce blessed none of the rich, or of the
well-born, or of the possessors of glory, but the man who has gotten hold
of virtue. For what is required of us is, that in every thing we do or
suffer, the fear of God should be the foundation; and if you implant this
as the root, not merely will ease, and honour, and glory, and attention,
produce fruits that shall be pleasurable to thee; but hostilities also,
and calumnies, and contempt, and disgrace, and torments, and all things
without exception. And just as the roots of trees are bitter in themselves,
and yet produce our sweetest fruits, so, verily, godly sorrow will bring
us an abundant pleasure. They know, who have often prayed with anguish,
and shed tears, what gladness they have reaped; how they purged the conscience;
how they rose up with favourable hopes! For as I am always saying, it is
not the nature of the things, but our disposition, which is wont to make
us sad or joyful. If then we can render the latter such as it ought to
be, we shall have a pledge for all gladness. And just as, with the body,
it is not so much the nature of the air, or the things it meets from without,
as its own internal condition, that either injures or assists it, so also
it is in the case of the soul; and much more so; for in the one case, there
is the necessity of nature; in the other, the whole is seated in the power
of choice. Therefore Paul, when he had endured innumerable evils--ship-wrecks,
wars, persecutions, plots, the assaults of robbers, and things too numerous
to be
463
recounted, dying also daily deaths--was so far from grieving or being
discontented, that he gloried, and rejoiced, and said, "I now rejoice in
my sufferings, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ
in my flesh."(1) And again: "And not only so, but we glory in tribulations."(2)
Now, glorying signifies an extension of pleasure.
11. If then thou desirest joy, seek not after riches,
nor bodily health, nor glory, nor power, nor luxury, nor sumptuous tables,
nor vestures of silk, nor costly lands, nor houses splendid and conspicuous,
nor any thing else of that kind; but pursue that spiritual wisdom which
is according to God, and take hold of virtue; and then nought of the things
which are present, or which are expected, will be able to sadden thee.
Why do I say to sadden? Verily, the things that make others sad, will prove
to thee an accession of pleasure. For scourges, and death, and losses,
and slanders, and the being evil entreated, and all such things, when they
are brought upon us for God's sake, and spring from this root, will bring
into our souls much pleasure. For no one will be able to make us miserable,
if we do not make ourselves such; nor, on the other hand, blessed, if we
do not make our. selves such, following up the grace of God.
12. And that ye may learn that he only is blessed,
who feareth the Lord, I will now demonstrate this to you, not by what has
happened in past times, but by what has befallen ourselves. Our city was
in danger of being utterly effaced; and no man among the rich, or eminent,
or illustrious, dared to appear in public, but all fled, and hurried out
of the way. But they who feared God, the men who passed their time in monasteries,
hastened down with much boldness, and set all free from this terror; and
the terrible events that had taken place, and the threats which had been
expected to be put into execution, were so far from causing them to fear,
or from throwing them into anxiety, that although they were placed far
off from the calamity, and had no share in it, they cast themselves willingly
into the midst of the fire, and rescued all; and as for death, which seems
universally terrible and awful, they awaited it with the utmost readiness,
and ran to meet it with more pleasure than others do towards principalities
and honours. And why, but because they knew, that this is the greatest
principality and honour? And they shewed in very deed that he only is blessed
who lays hold of the wisdom which is from above, that he undergoes no change
and sustains no adversity, but enjoys a continued tranquillity, and laughs
to scorn all things which seem to be sorrowful. At the present time at
least, those who were once in power are oppressed by ranch sadness, inhabiting
the prison, and loaded with chains, and daily expecting to be put to death.
But these men on the contrary enjoy the purest pleasure; and if it be their
lot to suffer anything terrible, this, and the very things which seem formidable
to others, are welcome to them, for they know well towards what point they
are running, and what lot will await them when they depart hence. But whilst
they live with so much exactness, and smile at death, they nevertheless
grieve for others, and reap therefrom, in turn, the greatest advantage.
Let us then be in earnest to take care of our souls, and nothing which
may come unlooked for can make us sad. And on behalf of those Who are in
prison, let us beseech God that He will deliver them from their present
calamity. For it was in God's power at once to release us from this dire
evil, and not to suffer even the smallest part of it to remain; but in
order that we may not again go back to our former negligence, He hath provided
that the torrent of these evils should subside gently and by little and
little, holding us fast to the same pious resolutions.
13. And that this is true, and that many would have
gone back to their former supineness, if we had been released from the
whole difficulty at once, is manifest from this circumstance; that whilst
yet the remnants of the calamity are left, whilst the sentence of the Emperor
is yet doubtful, and those who conducted the affairs of the city are all
in prison,(3) many of our fellow inhabitants, through their inordinate
desire of bathing, run to the river, there making endless merriment, behaving
wantonly, leaping, dancing, and dragging women after them. What pardon
can such be worthy of? What kind of excuse can they offer? Or rather, what
kind of punishment and vengeance do they not deserve? The head of the city
is in the public prison; our members are in exile; the sentence concerning
them is doubtful; and dost thou, I ask, dance, sport, and laugh? "Why,
we could not endure," says some one, "to remain without the bath?" O shameless
disposition, sordid and perverted! How many months, I ask, how many years,
have past? Thou hast not been as yet shut out from the bath for twenty
days; and thou art as much distressed and discontented, as if thou hadst
continued without washing for a
464
whole year! Tell me, was this thy state, when thou wert expecting an attack from the military, when thou wert daily anticipating bring put to death, when thou fleddest to the deserts, and wast hurrying to the mountain tops? If any one had then proposed to thee to remain "a year" without the bath, so that thou mightest be rescued from the impending distress, wouldest thou not readily have accepted the proposal, and submitted to it? When, therefore, it were becoming that thou shouldest give thanks to God, Who hath freed thee from all these things without any loss, dost thou again grow wanton and contemptuous; and when the fear has passed away, turn back afresh to a worse state of negligence? Have these dire events really touched thee, and yet art thou so desirous of the baths? Why, if the bath had been permitted, would not the calamity of those who are yet in confinement have been sufficient to persuade those who are not in the same grievous condition to be forgetful of every luxury? Life itself is at stake, and dost thou remember the baths, and desire to be luxurious? Dost thou despise the danger because thou hast now escaped it? Take heed lest thou entangle thyself in the necessity of a greater punishment, and call back in larger measure the wrath which is removed, and experience the very thing which Christ declared concerning the devils. For He says, that "when the unclean spirit is gone out, and afterwards findeth the house void and swept, he taketh seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and entereth into the soul, and the last state of that man is worse than the first."(1) Therefore let us also fear, lest now we are liberated from our former evils, we afterwards by our listlessness draw upon us those which are greater! I know that ye yourselves(2) are free from this folly; but ye should restrain, punish, and sober those who walk disorderly, that ye may always rejoice even as Paul commanded, that both for our own good works, and for our forethought for others, we may enjoy both here and in the life to come an abundant recompense; through the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, by Whom, and with Whom, to the Father, with the Holy Ghost, be glory, honour, and adoration, now and ever, and world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XIX.
On the SUnday called "Episozomenes,"(1) to those who had come to Antioch
from the
country--also on the subject of avoiding oaths.
1. YE have revelled during the last few days in the
Holy Martyrs! Ye have taken your fill of the spiritual feast! Ye have all
exulted with honest exultation! Ye have beheld their ribs laid bare, and
their loins lacerated; the blood flowing forth all around; ten thousand
forms of torture! Ye have seen human nature exhibiting that which is above
nature, and crowns woven with blood! Ye have danced a goodly dance throughout
the whole city; this, your noble captain(2) leading you on; but sickness
compelled me to remain at home, although against my will. But if I did
not take a part in the festival, I partook of the pleasure of it. If I
could not have the enjoyment of your public assembly, yet did I share in
your gladness. For such is the power of love, that it makes those who are
not actually in the enjoyment to rejoice equally with those who are; persuading
them to think the good things of their neighbour common to themselves.
Therefore even whilst I sat at home, I was rejoicing with you; and now
whilst I am not yet entirely freed from my sickness, I have risen up, and
run to meet you, that I may see your much desired faces, and take a part
in the present festival.
2. For I think the present day to be a very great
festival indeed on account of our brethren, who by their presence beautify
our city, and adorn the Church; a people foreign to us in language,(3)
but in harmony with us concerning the faith, a people passing their
465
time in tranquillity, and leading an honest and sober life. For among
these men there are no spectacles of iniquity--no horse racings, nor harlots,
nor any of that riot which pertains to a city, but every kind of licentiousness
is banished, and great sobriety flourishes every where. And the reason
is, that their life is a laborious one; and they have, in the culture of
the soil, a school of virtue and sobriety, and follow that art which God
introduced before all others into our life. For before the sin of Adam,
when he enjoyed much freedom, a certain tillage of the ground was enjoined
upon him; not indeed a laborious or a troublesome one, but one which afforded
him much good discipline, for he was appointed, it is said, "to till the
garden, and to keep it." Each of these men you may see at one time employed
in yoking the labouring oxen, and guiding the plough, and cutting the deep
furrow; and at another acsending the sacred pulpit,(1) and cultivating
the souls of those under their authority; at one time cutting away the
thorns from the soil with a bill-hook, at another purging out the sins
of the soul by the Word. For they are not ashamed of work like the inhabitants
of our city, but they are ashamed of idleness, knowing that this has taught
every kind of wickedness; and that to those who love it, it has proved
a teacher of iniquity from the beginning.
3. These are our philosophers, and theirs the best
philosophy, exhibiting their virtue not by their outward appearance, but
by their mind. The pagan philosophers are in character no wise better than
those who are engaged on the stage, and in the sports of actors; and they
have nothing to shew beyond the threadbare cloak, the beard, and the long
robe! But these, quite on the contrary, bidding farewell to staff and beard,
and the other accoutrements, have their souls adorned with the doctrines
of the true philosophy, and not only with the doctrines, but also with
the real practice. And were you to question any one of these, who live
a rustic life at the spade and plough, as to the dogmas respecting which
the pagan philosophers have discoursed an infinite deal, and have expended
a multitude of words, without being able to say any thing sound; one of
these would give you an accurate reply from his store of wisdom. And not
only is this to be wondered at, but that they confirm the credibility of
these doctrines by their actions. For of the fact that we have an immortal
soul, and that we shall hereafter render an account of what we have done
here, and stand before a fearful Tribunal, their minds. are at once thoroughly
persuaded, and they have also regulated their whole course of life by such
hopes as these; and have become superior to all worldly show, instructed
as they have been by the sacred Scriptures, that "all is vanity, yea, vanity
of vanities,"(2) and they do not greedily long for any of those things
which seem to be so splendid.
4. These too know how to philosophize concerning
God, even as God hath determined; and if, taking one of them, you were
now to bring forward some pagan philosopher;--or rather, now you could
not find one!(3)--But if you were to take one of these, and then open the
books of their ancient philosophers, and go through them, and institute
an enquiry by way of parallel as to what these now answer, and the others
in their day philosophically advanced; you would see how much wisdom belonged
to the former, and how much folly to the latter. For whilst some of those
would aver, that the things existing were destitute of a providence, and
that the creation had not its origin from God; that virtue was not sufficient
for itself, but stood in need of wealth, and nobility. and external splendour,
and other things still more ridiculous; and whilst these, on the other
hand, would discourse wisely respecting Providence, respecting the future
Tribunals of judgment, respecting the creative power of God, bringing forth
all things out of nothing, as well as respecting all other points, although
at the same time they were entirely destitute of worldly schooling; who
could but learn from hence the power of Christ, which hath proved these
unearned and simple persons to be as much wiser than those, who make so
much boast of their wisdom, as men of discretion are seen to be in comparison
of little children? For what harm can result to them from their simplicity
in regard to learning, when their thoughts are full of much wisdom? And
what advantage have those philosophers from this learning, when the understanding
is devoid of right thoughts? It were just as if one should have a sword
that had its hilt of silver, whilst the blade was weaker than the vilest
lead. For truly these philosophers have their tongue decked out with words
and names, but their understanding is full of mere weakness and good for
nothing. Not so with these philosophers, but quite the reverse. Their understanding
is full of spiritual wis-
466
dom(1) and their mode of life is a transcript of their doctrines. Amongst
these there are no luxurious women; there are no ornaments of dress, nor
colours, nor paints; but all such corruption of manners is discountenanced.
Hence the population under their charge are the more readily trained to
sobriety, and the law which Paul gave, when he directed that food and covering
should be had, and nothing more be sought after, they most rigidly observe.(2)
Amongst them, there are no perfumed unguents to fascinate the senses;(3)
but the earth bringing forth herbs, prepares for them a varied fragrance
of flowers, above all the skill of perfumers. For this reason, their bodies
as well as souls enjoy a sound state of health, inasmuch as they have banished
all luxury of diet, and driven off all the evil floods of drunkenness;
and they eat just as much as suffices for subsistence. Let us then not
despise them because of their outward appearance, but let us admire their
mind. For of what advantage is the external habit, when the soul is more
wretchedly clad than any beggar! The man ought to be praised and admired,
not for dress, nay more, not for his bodily form, but for his soul. Lay
bare the soul of these men, and you will see its beauty and the wealth
it possesses, in their words, in their doctrines, and in the whole system
of their manners!
5. Let the Gentiles then be ashamed, let them hide their heads, and
slink away on account of their philosophers, and their wisdom, wretched
as it is beyond all folly! For the philosophers that have been amongst
them in their lifetime have hardly been able to teach their doctrines to
a very few, who can easily be numbered; and when any trifling peril overtook
them, they lost even these. But the disciples of Christ, the fishermen,
the publicans, and the tent-makers, in a few years brought over the whole
world to the truth; and when from that time, ten thousand perils have been
constantly arising, the preaching of the Gospel was so far from being put
down, that it still flourishes and increases; and they taught simple people,
tillers of the ground, and occupied with cattle, to be lovers of wisdom.
Such are the persons, who beside all them home; and let us again raise
the question concerning oaths; that from the minds of all we may pluck
up by the roots this evil custom. But first, I desire to put you a little
in mind to-day of the things we spoke of lately.(5)
When the Jews, having been released from Persia,
and set free from that tyranny, were returned back to their own county,
"I saw," saith one, "a flying sickle, twenty cubits in length, and ten
cubits broad."(5) They heard also the Prophet giving them this instruction,
"This is the curse, that goeth forth over the face of the whole land, and
entereth into the house of him that sweareth falsely; and it shall rest
in the midst thereof, and throw down the timber and all the stones." When
we had read this passage, we also enquired then why it was, that it should
destroy not the swearer only, but also his house, and we stated this to
be the reason; that God will have the punishments of the most grievous
sins to reason of the overthrow, might avoid imitating the sin.
7. This also happened at Sodom. For when they burned
in their lust one towards another, then too the very earth itself was burned
up, being kindled by the fire from above. For He designed, that the vengeance
of this sin should permanently remain.
And observe the mercy of God! Those who had sinned,
He caused not to continue burning to the present day, but when they had
been for once in flames, He buried them; and burning up the face of the
ground, He placed it visibly before all who after should desire to look
at these things; and now the sight of the land, through all the generations
since, hath given an admonition beyond all lest ye suffer the lot of Sodom!"
For pre-
467
often, when they hear the Scripture discoursing of these things, are
not much terrified; site, and see the whole surface of it disfigured, and
have witnessed the effects of the fire, with soil no where visible, but
every thing dust and ashes, they come away astonished with the sight, and
taking with them a strong lesson of chastity. For truly, the very nature
of the punishment was a pattern of the nature of the sin! Even as they
devised a barren intercourse, not having for its end the procreation of
children, so did God bring on them such a punishment, as made the womb
of the land ever barren, and destitute of all fruits! For this reason also
He threatened to destroy the dwellings of the swearers, in order that by
their punishments, they may make others to be more self-controlled.
8. But I am ready to shew to-day, not the destruction
of one, two, or three houses in consequence of oaths, but that of a whole
city and of a people beloved of God; of a nation that had always enjoyed
much of the divine care; and of a race that had escaped many dangers.(1)
For Jerusalem herself, the city of God, which had the holy ark, and all
that divine service;--where there were once prophets, and the grace of
the Spirit, and the ark; and the tables of the covenant, and the golden
pot;--where angels were frequent visitors;--this city, I say, when a multitude
of wars took place, and many foreign nations made attacks upon it, as if
girt by a wall of adamant, ever laughed them all to scorn, and whilst the
land was utterly destroyed, sustained no injury! And not only is this to
be wondered at, but that frequently in driving out its enemies, it inflicted
upon them a heavy blow, and enjoyed so much of the providential care of
God, that God Himself said, "I found Israel as a bunch of grapes in the
desert; and I beheld your fathers as the earliest fruit on the fig tree.''(2)
And again, of the city itself: "As olive berries on the extremity of the
highest bough, and they shall say, Do them no harm."(3) Nevertheless, the
city beloved of God; that had escaped so many perils; that had been favoured
with pardon, amidst the multitude of its sins; that alone had been able
to avoid captivity, whilst all the rest were carried away, not once or
twice, but very often; was ruined solely by an oath. But how, I proceed
to state.
9. One of their kings was Zedekiah. This Zedekiah
took an oath to Nebuchadnezzar, king of the barbarians, that he would remain
in alliance with him. Afterwards be revolted, ing the obligation of his
oath, and suffered the things of which ye shall hear presently. But first,
it is necessary to mention the parable of the prophet, in which he enigmatically
represented all these matters: "The word of the Lord," saith he, "came
to me, saying, Son of man, put forth a riddle, and speak a parable, and
say, Thus saith the Lord God: A great eagle, with great wings, and long
extended, full of claws."(4) Here he calls the king of the Babylonians
an eagle, and speaks of him as being "great, and long-winged;" and he calls
him long-extended and "full of claws," on account of the multitude of his
army, and the greatness of his power, and the swiftness of his invasion.
For just as the wings and claws of the eagle are his armour, so are horses
and soldiers to kings. This eagle, he goes on to say, "hath the leading(5)
to enter into Lebanon." What is meant by the "leading?" Counsel--design.
And Judaea is called Lebanon, because of its situation near that mountain.
Afterwards, intending to speak of the oaths and treaties, " He took," saith
he, "of the seed of the land, and planted it in a fruitful field, that
it might take root by great waters. He placed it to be looked upon; and
it grew, and became a weak vine, and of small stature, and it stretched
out its branches towards him, and its roots were under him."(6) Here he
calls the city of Jerusalem(7) a vine; but in saying that it stretched
out its branches towards the eagle, and that its roots were under him,
he purposing to declare the iniquity of this, he saith, "And there was
another great eagle," (speaking of the Egyptian king), "with great wings,
and having many claws;(8) and the vine did bend itself toward him, and
its tendril toward him, and shot out its branches, that it might be watered.
Therefore, I said, Thus saith the Lord God: Shall it prosper?"(9) That
is to say, " after having broken the oath, and the treaties, shall it be
able to remain, or to be safe, or to avoid falling?" Presently, for the
purpose of shewing that this is not to happen, but that it is certainly
to be destroyed on account of the oath, he discourses concerning its punishment,
and alleges the cause. "For its tender roots and
468
its fruits shall become corrupt, and all which springs therefrom shall
be withered."(1) And for the purpose of shewing that it will not be destroyed
by human strength, but because it hath made God its enemy by means of these
oaths, he subjoins, "Not by a mighty arm, nor by much people, to pluck
it up by its roots." Such indeed is the parable, but the prophet again
explains it, when he says, "Behold, the king of Babylon cometh against
Jerusalem."(2) And then, after saying some other things between, he mentions
the oaths and the treaties. "For" saith he, "he shall make a covenant with
him;"(3) and presently, speaking of the departure from it, he goes on to
say, "And he will depart from him, by sending messengers into Egypt, that
they might give him horses and much people." And then he proceeds to shew
that it is on account of the oath that all this destruction is to take
place. "Surely in the place where the king dwelleth that made him king,
he who hath despised My curse, and hath transgressed My covenant, in the
midst of Babylon he shall die; and not by great power nor surely recompense
upon his own head this covenant which he hath broken; and I will spread
My net upon him."(4) Seest thou, that not once, or twice, but repeatedly,
it is said that because of the oath he was to suffer all these things.
For God is inexorable when oaths are treated contemptuously. Nor merely
from the punishment which was brought upon the city by the oath, but also
from the delay, and the postponement, may it be seen how much God is concerned
for the inviolability of oaths. "For it came to pass," we are told, "in
the ninth year of the reign of Zedekiah, on the tenth day of the month,
that Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylon came, and all his host, against
Jerusalem, and pitched against it, and built a wall against it round about,
and the city was besieged until the eleventh year of king Zedekiah, and
the ninth day of the month,(5) and there was no bread for the people to
eat, and the city was broken up."(6) He might indeed, at once from the
first day, have delivered them up, and have given them into the hands of
their enemies; but He permitted that they should first be wasted for the
space of three years, and experience a most distressing siege; to the end
that during this interval, being humbled by the terror of the forces without,
or the famine that oppressed the city within, they might compel the king,
however unwillingly, to submit to the barbarian; and some alleviation might
be obtained for the sin committed. And to prove that this is true, and
no conjecture of my own, hear what He saith to him by the prophet: "If
thou shalt go forth to the king of Babylon's princes, then thy soul shall
live, and this city shall not be burned with fire; and thou shalt live,
and thine house. But if thou wilt not go forth to the king of Babylon's
princes, then shall this city be given into the hand of the Chaldeans;
and they shall burn it with fire, and thou shalt not escape out of their
hand. And the king said, I am afraid of the Jews that are fallen to the
Chaldeans, lest they deliver me into their hands and they mock me. But
Jeremiah said, They shall not deliver thee. Obey, I beseech thee, the word
of the Lord, which I speak unto thee; so shall it be better for thee, and
thy soul shall live. But if thou refuse to go forth, this is
the word that the Lord hath shewed me. All the women that are left in the
king of they are turned away from thee, and they shall bring out all thy
wives, and thy children to the Chaldeans, and thou shalt not escape out
of their hand, for thou shalt be taken by the hand of the king of Babylon,
and this city shall be burned with fire.(7)
10. But when He did not prevail with him by this
address, but he remained in his sin and transgression, after three years,
God delivered up the city, displaying at once His own clemency and the
ingratitude of that king. And entering in with the utmost ease, they "burnt
the house of the Lord, and the king's house, and the houses of Jerusalem,
and every great house, the captain of the guard(8) burnt, and overthrew
the wall of Jerusalem;(9) and everywhere there was the fire of the barbarian,
the oath being the conductor of the conflagration, and carrying about the
flame in all directions. "And the captain of the guard carried away the
rest of the people that were left in the city, and the fugitives that fell
away to the king of Babylon.(10) And the pillars of brass that were in
the house of the Lord the Chaldeans brake up, and the bases, and the brazen
sea that was in the house of the Lord, did the Chaldees break in
469
pieces. And the pots, and the flesh-hooks the golden and silver bowls
they took away. Moreover, Nebuzaradan, the captain of the guard, took away
the two pillars, and the bases, and the sea which Solomon had made away
Seraiah the chief priest, and Zephaniah the second priest, and the three
keepers of the door; and out of the city one eunuch that was set over the
men of war; and five men that were in the king's presence; and Shaphan
the chief captain, and the principal scribe, and threescore men. And he
took these, and brought them to the king of Babylon, and the king smote
them, and slew them."(1)
11. Be mindful therefore, I pray, now of the "flying
sickle" that "resteth in the sweaters house;" and "destroyeth the walls
and the timber and the stones." Be mindful, I pray, how this oath entered
into the city, and overturned houses, and temple, and walls, and splendid
buildings, and made the city an heap; and that neither the Holy of Holies,
nor the sacred vessels, nor any thing else could ward off that punishment
and vengeance, for that the oath had been transgressed! The city, indeed,
was thus miserably destroyed. But the king endured what Was still more
wretched and deplorable.(2) And as the flying sickle overthrew the buildings,
so did it also cut him down in his flight. For "the king," it says, "went
forth by night, by way of the gate, and the Chaldeans encompassed the city,
and the army of the Chaldeans pursued after the king and overtook him,
and they took the king, and brought him to the king of Babylon, and the
king of Babylon gave judgments upon Zedekiah, and slew his sons before
his face, and put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and bound him with fetters,
and carded him to Babylon." What is meant by the expression, "he spake
judgment with him?" He demanded of him an account of his conduct, he pleaded
against him; and first he slew his two sons, that he might be a spectator
of the calamity of his house, and might behold(4) that deplorable tragedy;
and then he put out his own eyes. For what reason, I ask again, did this
occur? them; and that they who had eyes might discern by him who was bereft
of sight, how great an evil is an oath! Nor only these; but all who dwelt
by the way, beholding the man fettered and blinded, might learn by his
calamity the greatness of his sin. Therefore one of the prophets declares,
"He shall not see Babylon."(5) And another, "He shall be carried away to
Babylon."(6) And the prophecy seems, indeed, to be contradictory. But it
is not so; for both of these are true. For he saw not Babylon, though he
was carried away to Babylon. How then did he not see Babylon? Because it
was in Judaea he had his eyes put out; for where the oath had been set
at nought, there also was it vindicated, and he himself subjected to punishment.
And how was he carried away to Babylon? In a state of captivity. For since
the punishment was twofold, deprivation of sight and captivity, the prophets
took them severally. The one saith, "He shall not see Babylon," speaking
of the loss of his eyes; the other saith, "He shall be carried away to
Babylon," signifying his captivity.
12. Knowing these things, theft, brethren, and gathering
up what has been now advanced, as well as what has been said before; let
us at last desist from this evil custom, yea, I pray and beseech you all!
For if in the old dispensation, when the Jews had not the strictest moral
wisdom required of them, but much condescension was extended to them, such
wrath was the effect of one oath; such capture and captivity; what punishment
is it likely that those who swear should now be subjected to, after an
express law forbidding the practice, and so large an addition of precepts.
Is it, indeed, all that is required, that we come to the assembly, and
hear what is spoken? Why truly it is a reason for greater condemnation,
and for more inevitable punishment, that we are continually hearing, and
yet do not what is bidden! What excuse shall we have, or what pardon, if
assembling here from earliest youth to latest old age, and enjoying the
advantage of so much instruction, we remain just like them, and do
not take pains to correct a single defect. Let no one henceforth allege
custom. For this is the very thing at which I am indignant and provoked,
that we are not able to get the better of custom. And, pray, if we do not
get the better of custom, how can we get the better of concupiscence, which
hath its root even in the principles of our nature; for it is natural to
feel desire; but to desire wickedly, comes after of choice. But this practice
of sweating takes not even its first
470
principle from nature,(1) but from mere negligence.
13. And that thou mayest learn that not from the difficulty of the
thing, but through our inattention, this sin has advanced to such a pitch,
let us call to mind how many things far more difficult than these, men
accomplish; and that too without expecting any recompense therefrom. Let
us think what services the Devil imposes; how laborious, how troublesome
they are; and yet, the difficulty has not become an obstacle to these services.
For what can be more difficult, I ask, than when any young person delivering
himself up to those, who undertake to make his limbs supple and pliant,
uses his most strenuous exertion to bend his whole body into the exact
shape of a wheel, and to turn over upon the pavement; his powers being
tasked at the same time through the eyes, and through the movement of the
hands, as well as other convolutions for the purpose of being transformed
into the likeness of woman-kind.(2) Yet neither the difficulty of these
feats, nor the degradation arising from them, are thought of. And again,
those who are dragged upon the dancing-stage, and use the members of the
body as though they were wings, who that beholds them can help being struck
with wonder? So too they who toss knives aloft in the air one after another,
and catch them all by the handle, whom might they not put to shame of those
who refuse to undergo any labour for the sake of virtue? And what can any
one say of those men, who balancing a pole on the forehead, keep it just
as steady as a tree rooted in the ground? And this is not the only marvellous
part of the affair but that they set little children to wrestle with one
another on the top of the tree; and neither the hands, nor any other part
of the body assisting, the forehead alone sustains the pole unshaken, and
with more steadiness than any kind of fastening. Again: another walks on
the slenderest rope, with the same fearlessness as men do when they run
over level plains. Nevertheless these things, which even in thought seem
impracticable, have become possible by art. What like this have we, I ask,
to allege concerning oaths? What kind of difficulty? what toil? what art?
what danger? There is only needed on our 14. And do not tell me, "I have
accomplished that thou hast not as yet done any thing; for this little,
if neglected, is destruction to all the rest. Often indeed when men have
built a house, and put on the roof, they have destroyed the whole fabric,
by not making any concern of a single tile that has been shaken off from
it. And one may see the same thing occur with respect to garments; for
there too if a small hole is made, and not repaired, a large rent is the
consequence. And this also is frequently the case in regard to floods;
for these, if they find but a small entrance, let in the whole torrent.
Thou also, then, even if thou hast fortified thyself all around, and but
a small part be left still unfortified, yet block up this also against
the devil, that thou mayest be made strong on all sides! Thou hast seen
the sickle! Thou hast seen the head of John! Thou hast heard the history
pertaining to Saul! Thou hast heard the manner of the Jewish captivity!
And beside all these, thou hast heard the sentence of Christ declaring,
that not only to commit perjury, but to swear in any way, is a diabolical
thing, and the whole a device of the evil one.(3) Thou hast heard that
every where perjuries follow oaths. Putting all these things then together,
write them upon thy understanding. Dost thou not see how women and little
children suspend Gospels(4) from their necks as a powerful amulet, and
carry them about in all places wherever they go. Thus do thou write the
commands of the Gospel and its laws upon thy mind. Here there is no need
of gold or property, or of buying a book; but of the will only, and the
affections of the soul awakened, and the Gospel will be thy surer guardian,
carrying it as thou wilt then do, not outside, but treasured up within;
yea, in the soul's secret chambers. When thou risest up then from thy bed,
and
471
when thou goest out of thine house, repeat this law: "I say unto you,
Swear not at all."(1) And the saying will be to thee a discipline; for
there is no need of much labour, but only of a moderate degree of attention.
And that this is true, may thus be proved. Call thy son, and frighten him,
and threaten to lay a few stripes upon him, if he does not duly observe
this law; and thou wilt see, how he will forthwith abstain from this custom.
Is it not therefore truly absurd, that little children, out of the fear
we inspire, should perform this commandment, and that we should not fear
God as our sons fear us?
15. What then I said before this, I now again repeat.
Let us lay down a law for ourselves in this matter; not to meddle either
with public or private affairs until we have fulfilled this law; and then
surely under the pressure of this obligation we shall easily conquer, and
we shall at once adorn ourselves, and decorate our city. For consider what
a thing it would be to have it said every where throughout the world, "A
practice becoming Christians is established at Antioch, and you will hear
no one giving utterance to an oath, even though the greatest nceessity
is laid upon him!" This is what the neighbouring cities will certainly
hear; nay, not the neighbouring cities only, but even to the ends of the
each will the report be conveyed. For it is indeed probable that both the
merchants who mix with you, and others who arrive from this place, will
report all these matters. When, therefore, many persons in the way of encomium
mention the harbours of other cities, or the markets, or the abundance
of wares, enable those who come from hence to say, that there is that at
Antioch, which is to be seen in no other city; for that the men who dwell
there would sooner have their tongues cut out, than suffer an oath to proceed
from their mouths! This will be your ornament and defence, and not only
so, but it will bring an abundant reward. For others also will certainly
emulate, and imitate you. But if, when a person has gained but one or two,(2)
he shall receive so great a reward from God; what recompense shall ye not
receive when ye are the instructors of the whole world. It is your duty
then to bestir yourselves, to be watchful, and to be sober; knowing that
not only from our own personal good works, but from those we have also
wrought in others, shall we receive the best recompense, and enjoy much
favour with God, which may He grant us all continually to enjoy, and hereafter
to obtain the kingdom of heaven, in Christ Jesus our Lord; to Whom with
the Father, and the Holy Ghost, be glory and power both now and ever, and
world without end. Amen.
HOMILY XX.(1)
That the fast of Lent is not sufficient to make us competent to partake
of the Communion, but that holiness is the first thing required. How it
is possible not to entertain resentment, and that God takes much account
of this law; find that the entertaining of resentment punishes those who
are guilty of it even before they reach the place of torment.--Also concerning
abstinence from oaths, and those who have not succeeded in abstaining from
swearing.
1. AT length the season is verging towards the end
of the Fast, and therefore we ought the more earnestly to devote ourselves
to holiness. For as in the case of those who run a race, all their circuits
will be of no avail if they miss the prize; so neither will any advantage
result from these manifold labours and toils with regard to the fast, if
we are not able to enjoy the sacred Table with a good conscience. For this
end are fasting and Lent appointed, and so many days of solemn assemblies,
auditories, prayers, and teachings, in order that by this earnestness(2)
being cleansed in every, possible way from
472
so that should this not be the result, we shall have sustained so much
labour entirely in vain, and without any profit. Let every one, therefore,
consider with himself what defect he hath corrected, what good work he
hath attained to; what sin he hath cast off, what stain he hath purged
away; in what respect he has become better. And should he discover that
in this good traffic he has made any gain by the fast, and be conscious
in himself of much care taken of his wounds, let him draw near! But if
he hath remained negligent, having nothing to shew but mere fasting, and
hath done nothing which is right besides, let his remain outside;(1) and
then let him enter, when he hath purged out all these offences. Let no
one rest on the fast merely; whilst continuing unreformed in evil practices.
For it is probable, that he who omits fasting may obtain pardon, having
infirmity of body to plead; but it is impossible that he can have an excuse
who hath not amended his faults. Thou hast not fasted, it may be, on account
of bodily weakness. Tell me for what reason thou art not reconciled to
thine enemies? Hast thou, indeed, here to allege bodily infirmity? Again;
if thou retainest envy and hatred, what apology hast thou then I ask? For
no one in offences of this kind is able to take refuge in the plea of bodily
infirmity. And this was a work of Christ's(2) love toward man, viz. that
the chief of the precepts, and those which maintain our life, should not
be impaired in any degree through the weakness of the body.
2. But since we need to practise all the divine
laws alike, and more especially that which bids us consider no man as an
enemy, nor retain resentment long, but forthwith to be reconciled; suffer
us to-day to discourse to you concerning this commandment. For as it is
not to be imagined that the fornicator and the blasphemer can partake of
the sacred Table, so it is impossible that he who hath an enemy, and bears
malice, can enjoy the holy Communion. And this with good reason. For a
man when he has committed fornication, or adultery, at the same time that
he hath accomplished his lust, hath also completed the sin; and should
he be willing by watchful living to recover from that fail, he may afterwards,
by manifesting great penitence, obtain some relief. But he who is resentful
worketh the same iniquity every day, What excuse can we then have, I ask,
for delivering ourselves willingly to such an evil monster? How canst
thou ask thy Lord to be mild and merciful to thee, when thou hast been
so hard and unforgiving to thy fellow-servant?
3. But thy fellow-servant hath treated thee with
contempt perhaps? Yes! and thou hast treated God with contempt oftentimes.
And what comparison is there between a fellow-servant and the Lord? As
to the former, when he was perchance in some way injured, he insulted thee,
and thou wert exasperated. But thou insultest the Lord, when thou art neither
treated with injustice nor ill-will by Him, but receiving blessing of Him
day by day. Consider, then, that if God chose to search out rigourously
what is done against Him, we should not live a single day. For the prophet
saith, "If Thou wilt be extreme to mark iniquity, O Lord, O Lord, who shall
stand?"(3) And, to pass by all those other things, of which the conscience
of every sinner is aware, and of which he no has no human witness, but
God only; were we to be called to account for those which are open and
admitted, what allowance could we expect for such sins? What if He were
to scrutinize our listlessness and negligence in our prayers; and how,
whilst standing before God and supplicating Him, we do not exhibit even
so much fear and reverence for Him as servants do toward their masters,
as soldiers do toward their officers, as friends do toward friends?(4)
When thou discoursest with a friend, thou givest heed to what thou art
doing, but when waiting on God on account of thy sins, and asking pardon
for so many offences, and thinking that thou shalt obtain forgiveness,
thou art often listless; and whilst thy knees are lying on the ground,
thou sufferest thy mind to wander every where, in the market, or in the
house, babbling the while with thy mouth vainly and to no purpose! And
this we experience, not once or twice, but frequently! Did God then choose
to scrutinize this alone, do you think that we could obtain pardon, or
be able to find any excuse? Truly, I think not!
4. But what if the evil-speakings which we unkindly
utter every day one against another, were brought forward against us; as
well as the rash judgments with which we condemn our neighbour; and that
for no reason, but
473
because we are fond of blaming, and given to find fault; what, I say,
should we be able to allege in defence? Again, should He scrutinize those
roving glances of ours, and those evil desires which we carry in the mind,
so frequently admitting disgraceful and impure thoughts from the unlicensed
wandering of the eyes, what punishment must we not sustain? And should
He demand a reason for our revilings, (for He saith, "Whosoever shah say
to his brother, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire,") how could
we, forsooth, open our mouths, or move our lips at all, or say any thing
great or small in reply? Moreover, as to the vainglorious feelings we allow
in our prayers, our facings, our alms-giving, were we to scrutinize, them,--I
do not say, were God, but were we ourselves, who are the sinners, to do
this,--should we be able to lift up our eyes toward heaven? Then, as to
the deceits which we devise one against another--praising a brother now,
whilst he is present, and discoursing as with a friend; and when he is
absent, reviling him; can we endure the punishments of all these? Then
what of the oaths? or what of the lying? what of the perjuries? what of
the unjust anger, and of the envy with which we too often regard men when
honoured, not enemies only, but also friends? Furthermore, what of the
fact, that we are pleased when others suffer evil, and account the misfortunes
of others a consolation for our own distress?
5. But suppose the penalty were exacted for our
listlessness in our solemn assemblies what would our condition be? For
this ye cannot but know, that often whilst God Himself is addressing us
all by His prophet, we are holding frequent and long conversations with
those near us, about matters which in no way concern us. Passing by, then,
all the rest, should He choose to exact of us the penalty due for this
sin only, what hope of salvation will there be? For do not suppose that
this offence is a small one, but if thou wouldest be aware of its magnitude,
examine how this very thing is regarded among men, and then thou wilt perceive
the enormity of the sin. Just venture, when some magistrate is talking
to thee, or rather some friend who is of somewhat superior dignity, to
turn from him, and enter into conversation with thy servant; and thou wilt
then perceive, what thou venturest on in dealing thus with God! For if
he be any one of the more distinguished classes, he will even demand reparation
of thee for such an insult. Yet God, whilst He is treated with as great,
and still greater contempt than this, every day; and that not by one, or
two, or three persons, but by almost all of us; is still forbearing and
longsuffering, not in regard to this alone, but to other things which are
far more grievous. For these things are what must be admitted, and what
are obvious to all, and by almost all men they are daringly practised.
But there are yet others, which the conscience of those who commit them
is privy to. Surely, if we were to think of all this; if we were to reason
with ourselves, supposing even that we were the cruelest and harshest of
men, yet upon taking a survey of the multitude of our sins, we should for
very fear and agony be unable to remember the injury done by others towards
ourselves. Bear in mind the river of fire; the envenomed worm; the fearful
Judgment, where all things shall be naked and open ! Reflect, that what
are now hidden things, are then to be brought to light ! But shouldest
thou pardon thy neighbour all these sins which till then await their disclosure
are done away with here; and when thou shalt depart this life, thou wilt
not drag after thee any of that chain of transgressions; so that thou receivest
greater things than thou givest. For many such transgressions, indeed,
we have often committed, which no other person knoweth; and when we think,
that on That Day these our sins shall lie exposed to the eyes of alI, upon
the public theatre of the universe, we are in pain beyond any punishment,
being choked and strangled by our conscience. Yet this shame, great as
it is; these sins, these punishments, great as they are; there is a possibility
of purging away through forgiveness exercised toward our neighbour.
6. For indeed there is nothing equal to this virtue.(1)
Wouldest thou learn the power of this virtue? "Though Moses and Samuel
stood before Me," saith God, "my soul would not regard them."(2) Nevertheless,
those whom Moses and Samuel were not able to snatch away from God's wrath,
this precept when observed was able to snatch away. Hence it is, that He
continually exhorts those to whom He had spoken these things, saying, "Let
none of you revengefully imagine(2) evil against his brother in your heart,"
and "let none of you think of his neighbour's malice."(3) It is not said
merely, forego wrath; but retain it not in thy mind; think not of it; part
with all thy resentment; do away the sore. For thou supposest that thou
art paying him back the injury; but thou art first tormenting thyself,
and setting up thy rage as an execu-
474
tioner within thee in every part, and tearing up thine own bowels. For
what can be more wretched than a man perpetually angry? And just as maniacs,
who never enjoy tranquility, so also he who is resentful, and retains an
enemy, will never have the enjoyment of any peace; incessantly raging,
as he does, and daily increasing the tempest of his thoughts calling to
mind his words and acts, and detesting the very name of him who has aggrieved
him. Do you but mention his enemy, he becomes furious at once, and sustains
much inward anguish; and should he chance to get only a bare sight of him,
he fears and trembles, as if encountering the worst evils, Yea, if he perceives
any of his relations, if but his garment, or his dwelling, or street, he
is tormented by the sight of them. For as in the case of those who are
beloved, their faces, their garments, their sandals, their houses, or streets,
excite us, the instant we behold them; so also should we observe a servant,
or friend, or house, or street, or any thing else belonging to those We
hate and hold our enemies, we are stung by all these things; and the strokes
we endure from the sight of each one of them are frequent and continual.
7. What is the need then of sustaining such a siege,
such torment and such punishment? For if hell did not threaten the resentful;
yet for the very torment resulting from the thing itself we ought to forgive
the offences of those who have aggrieved us. But when deathless punishments
remain behind, what can be more senseless than the man, who both here and
there brings punishment upon himself, while he thinks to be revenged upon
his enemy ! For suppose that we see him still prosperous, then we are ready
to die of chagrin; but if in an adverse condition, we are in fear, lest
some propitious turn of events should take place. But for both of these
there is stored up for us an inevitable punishment. For, "Rejoice not,"
he saith, "when thine enemy stumbleth."(1) And tell me not of the greatness
of the injuries received; for it is not this which maketh thy wrath to
be retained; but this, that thou art unmindful of thine own offences; that
thou hast not before thine eyes either hell or the fear of God! To convince
thee that this is true, I will endeavour to make it manifest from the events
which have happened in this city. For when the persons impeached of those
flagrant crimes were dragged to the tribunal of justice;--when the fire
was kindled within, and the executioners stood around, and were lacerating
their ribs,(2) if any one standing beside them had proclaimed, "If ye have
any enemies, dismiss your resentment, and we shall be able to set you free
from this punishment;"--would they not have kissed their very feet?(3)
And why do I say their feet? If one had bidden them take them for their
masters, they would not then have refused. But if punishment that is human,
and hath its bounds, would have triumphed over all anger, much more would
the punishment to come, if it had continual possession of our thoughts,
expel from the soul not only resentment, but every evil imagination? For
what is easier, I ask, than to get rid of resentment against the injurer?
Is there any long journey to be undertaken? Is there any expenditure of
money? Is the aid of others to be invoked? It suffices only to resolve,
and the good deed at once reaches the goal. What punishment, then, must
we not deserve, if on account of worldly affairs we stoop to slavish occupations;
and shew a servility unworthy of ourselves; and expend money; and enter
into conversation with porters, that we may flatter(4) impious men; and
do and say all manner of things, so that we may perfectly attain the end
we have in view; and yet cannot endure, for the sake of God's laws, to
entreat a brother who hath injured us, but consider it a disgrace to be
the first to make advances. Art thou ashamed, tell me, when thou art going
to be the first to make gain ? Rather, on the contrary, you ought to be
ashamed of persisting in this passion; and waiting until the person who
has commuted the injury comes to you to be reconciled; for this is a disgrace,
and a reproach, and the greatest loss.
8. For he who comes the first it is, who reaps all
the fruit; and when at the entreaty of another thou layest aside thine
anger, the good work is to be accounted his; for thou hast discharged the
law as doing a favour to him, not as obeying God. But if, when no one entreats,
when not even the man who has done the injury approaches, or solicits thee,
thou thyself dismissing from thy thoughts all shame, and all delay, runnest
forward freely to the injurer, and dost quell anger entirely, the good
deed becomes wholly thine own, and thou shalt receive all the reward. If
I say, "Practise fasting," thy plea, perchance, is
475
bodily weakness. If I say, "Give to the poor," it is poverty, and bringing
up children. If I say, "Make time for the assembles of the Church," it
is worldly cares. If I say, "'Give heed to what is spoken, and consider
the power of what is taught," it is want of learning. If I say, "Correct
another," you say, "When counsel is given him, he takes no heed, for I
have often spoken, and been scorned." Frigid, as such pretences are, yet
you have some pretences to allege. But suppose I say, "Dismiss thine anger,"
which of these wilt thou then allege?" For neither infirmity of body, nor
poverty, nor lack of culture, nor want of leisure, nor any other thing
of that kind hast thou to advance; but this sin is above all other the
most inexcusable. How wilt thou be able to stretch thine hands toward heaven,
or how to move thy tongue, or to ask pardon? For although God be desirous
to pardon thy sins, thou thyself dost not suffer Him, while thou retainest
that of thy fellow-servant ! But suppose that he is cruel, fierce, and
savage, and greedy of revenge and retaliation? Why for this reason thou
oughtest especially to grant forgiveness.(1) Hast thou been wronged much,
and robbed, and slandered, and injured in matters of the first importance;
and dost thou wish to see thine enemy punished? Yet even for this, it will
be of use to thee to pardon him. For suppose that thou thyself takest vengeance,
and prosecutest it, either by words, by deeds, or imprecation against the
adversary; then God will not afterwards prosecute it too, inasmuch as thou
hast taken thy revenge; and not only will He not prosecute the matter for
thee, but will also demand a penalty of thee as a despiser of Himself.
For if this same thing takes place amongst mankind, viz. that if we beat
the servant of another, the master is indignant, and calls the act an insult
(for although we be treated injuriously, whether by slaves, or by freemen,
it is fitting that we should await the legal decisions of magistrates or
masters); if then even amongst men, to avenge ourselves would not be safe,
how much more so when God is the avenger !
9. Hath thy neighbour wronged and grieved thee,
and involved thee in a thousand ills? Be it so, yet do not prosecute vengeance
on thine own part, lest thou do desire to thy Lord ! Yield the matter to
God, and He will dispose of it much better than thou canst desire. To thee
He has given charge simply to pray for the injurer; but how to deal with
him, He hath ordered thee to leave to Himself, Never canst thou so avenge
thyself, as He is prepared to avenge thee, if thou givest place to Him
alone, and dost not utter imprecations on him who has aggrieved thee; but
sufferest God to be sole arbiter of the sentence. For although we may pardon
those who have aggrieved us; although we may be reconciled; although we
may pray for them; yet God does not pardon, unless they themselves are
converted, and become better. And He withholds pardon, with a view to their
own advantage. For He proses thee, and approves thee for thy spiritual
wisdom; but visits him, in order that he may not grow worse by thy wisdom.
So that the common saying on this subject is not to the point. For many
there are, who when I reproach them because after being exhorted to be
reconciled to their enemies, they will not be persuaded to it, think fit
to proffer this apology, which is nothing less than a cloak for their iniquity.
"I am unwilling," says one, "to be reconciled, lest I should make the man
worse, more ill-tempered, and more disposed to treat me contemptuously
hereafter." Besides this, they also make this plea: "Many people," say
they, "think it is weakness in me to come first to a reconciliation, and
to entreat my enemy." All these things are foolish; for the Eye that slumbers
not has seen thy good intention; wherefore, it behoveth thee to make no
account of the opinion of thy fellow-servants, when thou hast gained the
opinion of the Judge, Who is about to try thy cause.
10. But if thy concern be, test thine enemy should
become worse by thy clemency learn this,--that it is not thus he is made
worse; but far rather if thou art unreconciled. For although he were the
vilest of men; although he might neither confess nor publish it openly;
yet he will silently approve thy Christian wisdom, and in his own conscience
will respect thy gentleness. Should he, however, persist in the same iniquity,
whilst thou art endeavouring to soften and conciliate, he will have to
abide the heaviest punishment from God. And that ye may know, that although
we should pray for our enemies, and for those who have injured us, God
does not pardon, if they are likely to become worse by our forbearance,
I will mention to you an ancient piece of history. Miriam once spake against
Moses. What then did God do? He sent a leprosy upon her, and made her unclean;
notwithstanding that in other respects she had been meek and modest. Afterwards,
when Moses himself, the party injured, besought that the wrath might be
removed, God consented not: but what did
476
He say? "If her father had but spit in her face, should she not be ashamed?
Let her remain," saith He, "without the camp seven days."(1) But what He
means is to this effect. "If," saith He, "she had a father, and he had
put her away from his presence, would she not have undergone the rebuke?
I approve thee indeed for thy fraternal piety, and thy meekness and clemency;
but I know when is the due time to remit her punishment." Do thou then
shew all humanity towards thy brother; and do not pardon his offences in
the desire of a greater punishment for him, but of thy tenderness and good
will; yet understand this very plainly, that the more he shall slight thee,
whilst thou art labouring to conciliate, so much the greater punishment
will he draw down upon himself.
11. What sayest thou? tell me, Is he the worse for
thy attentions? This is blame to him, but thy praise. Thy praise, that,
whilst seeing him thus behave himself, thou didst not desist from doing
God's will in conciliating him. But to him it is blame, because he has
not been made better by thy clemency. But(2) "it is far more desirable
that others should be blamed because of us, than we because of them." Make
me not this frigid reply, of saying, "I am afraid of its being thought
that I made an overture to him out of fear; and that he will therefore
despise me the more." Such a reply indicates a childish and foolish mind,
agitated about human approbation. Let him suppose, that it was out of fear
you made the first advance to him; your reward will be so much the greater;
since, being aware of this beforehand, you still consented to endure all
for the fear of God. For he who is in chase of human approbation, and seeks
reconciliation for that end, curtails the recompense of reward; but he
who is quite sure of the fact, that many will vilify and ridicule him,
and even then does not desist, from the attempt at reconciliation, will
have a twofold, yea, a threefold crown. And this is indeed the man who
does it for the sake of God. Nor tell me, that the man has wronged thee
in this, or in that particular; for if he hath displayed, in his conduct
towards thee, every kind of iniquity that is in man, yet even so God hath
enjoined thee to forgive him all !
12. Lo ! I forewarn, and testify, and proclaim this
with a voice that all may hear! "Let no one who hath an enemy draw near
the sacred Table, or receive the Lord's Body ! Let no one who draws near
have an enemy ! Hast thou an enemy? Draw not near ! Wilt thou draw near?
Be reconciled, and then draw near, and touch the Holy Thing !" Nor, indeed,
is this my declaration. Rather it is that of the Lord Himself, Who was
crucified for us. That He might reconcile thee to the Father, He refused
not to be sacrificed, and to shed His blood ! And art thou unwilling to
utter a word, or to make the first advance, that thou mayest be reconciled
to thy fellow-servant? Hear what the Lord saith, concerning those who are
in this disposition; "If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest
that thy brother hath aught against thee"--He does not say, "wait for him
to come to thee," nor "speak with another as mediator," nor "entreat some
other," but "do thou thyself make the advance towards him." For the exhortation
is, "Go thy way, first be reconciled to thy brother."(3) O transcendent
wonder ! Does He Himself account it no dishonour, that the gift should
be left unoffered, and dost thou think it a mark of disgrace to go first
and be reconciled? And how can such a case, I ask, be deemed worthy of
pardon? Were you to see a member of yours cut off, would you not use every
exertion so that it might be reunited to the body? This do with regard
to thy brethren; when thou seest them cut off from thy friendship, make
all haste to recover them! Do not wait for them to make the first advance,
but press onward, that thou mayest be foremost to receive the prize.
13. We are commanded to have only one enemy, the
devil With him be thou never reconciled ! But with a brother, never be
at enmity in thy heart. And if there should be any narrowness of soul,
let it be only an ephemeral thing, and never last beyond a day's space.
For, "let not the sun," he saith, "go down upon your wrath."(4) For if,
before evening, you are reconciled, you will obtain some pardon from God.
But if you remain longer at enmity, that enmity is no longer the result
of your being suddenly carried away by anger and resentment, but of wickedness,
and of a foul spirit, and one which makes a practice of malice ! And this
is not the only terrible thing, that you deprive yourself of pardon, but
that the right course becomes still more difficult. For when one day is
past, the shame becomes greater; and when the second has arrived, it is
still further increased; and if it reach a third, and a fourth day, it
will add a fifth. Thus the five become ten; the ten, twenty; the twenty
an hundred; and thenceforth the wound will
477
become incurable; for as time goes on, the breach becomes wider. But
do thou, O man, give way to none of these irrational passions; nor be ashamed,
nor blush, nor say within yourself, "A short time ago we called each other
such names, and said a vast number of things fit or not fit to be spoken;
and shall I now hurry at once to a reconciliation? Who then will not blame
my excessive easiness?" I answer, no one who has sense will blame thy easiness;
but when thou remainest implacable, then, all persons will deride thee.
Then thou wilt give to the devil the advantage of this wide breach. For
the enmity becomes then more difficult to be got rid of, not by mere lapse
of time, but from the circumstances too that take place in the meanwhile.
For as "charity covereth a multitude of sins,"(1) so enmity gives a being
to sins that do not exist, and all persons henceforth, are deemed worthy
of credit who turn accusers; who rejoice in the ills of others, and blaze
abroad what is disgraceful in their conduct.
14. Knowing all these things then, make the first
advance to a brother; lay hold of him before he has entirely shrunk away
from thee; and should it be necessary, to run through all the city on the
same day; should it be necessary to go beyond the walls, or to take a long
journey; still leaving all other things that may be in hand, attend only
to this one work of reconciling thy brother. For if the work be laborious,
reflect that it is for God's sake thou undergoest all this, and thou shalt
receive sufficient consolation. Stir up thy soul also when it is shrinking,
and backward, and bashful, and ashamed, by perpetually harping on this
theme and saying, Why art thou delaying? Why art thou shrinking and holding
back? our concern is not for money, nor for any other of these fleeting
things, but for our salvation. God bids us do all these things, and all
things should be secondary to His commands. This matter is a sort of spiritual
merchandise. Let us not neglect it, let us not be slothful. Let our enemy
too understand that we have taken much pares, in order to do what is well-pleasing
unto God. And though he may again insult, or strike us, or do any other
such thing of a still more grievous kind, let us sustain all things courageously,
since we are not so much benefitting him thereby, as ourselves. Of all
good works, this shall most especially befriend us on That Day. We have
sinned and offended in many and great matters, and have provoked our Lord.
Through His lovingkindness He hath given us this way of reconciliation.
Let us, then, not betray this good treasure. For had He not power to charge
us simply to make reconciliation, and not have any reward assigned to it?
for whom hath He to gainsay or rectify His appointment? Nevertheless, through
His great lovingkindness, He hath promised us a large and unspeakable reward,
and one which we must be especially desirous to obtain, the pardon of our
sins; thus also making this our obedience more easy of performance.
15. What allowance then can be made for us, if even
when we might receive so great a reward we still do not obey the Lawgiver,
but persist in our contempt; for that this is a contempt is plain from
hence. If the Emperor had laid down a law, that all those who were enemies
should be reconciled to one another, or have their heads cut off, should
we not every one make haste to a reconciliation with his neighbour? Yes
! truly, I think so! What excuse then have we, in not ascribing the same
honour to the Lord, that we should do to those who are our fellow-servants?
For this reason we are commanded to say, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive
our debtors."(2) What can be more mild, what more merciful, than this precept!
He hath made thee a judge of the pardon of thine own offences! If thou
forgivest few things, He forgives thee few! If thou forgivest many things,
He forgives thee many ! If thou pardonest from the heart, and sincerely,
God in like manner also pardons thee ! If besides pardoning him thou accountest
him a friend, God will also thus deal with thee; so that the more he has
sinned, so much the more is it necessary that we should hasten to a reconciliation;
since it becomes a cause of greater offences being forgiven us.(3) Art
thou willing to learn(4) that there is no pardon for us, if we are mindful
of injuries, and that there is no one who can deliver us? I will make what
I assert plain by an example. Suppose that a neighbour has done you a certain
injury, that he has seized your goods; has confiscated or embezzled them;
and not to confine myself to such a case, let me add to it more things
and worse beside, and whatever you will; he has longed to destroy you;
he has exposed you to a thousand perils; he has manifested every sort of
malice towards you; and left nothing undone that human wickedness can do?
For not to go
478
over every thing separately, suppose that he has injured you to such
an extent as no one ever injured any before ;--why, even in this case,
if you are resentful, you will not be worthy of pardon. And I will explain
how it is so.
16. If one of your servants owed you an hundred
pieces of gold; and some one again was indebted to him in a few pieces
of silver; and if the servants' debtor were to come, and entreat and supplicate
you that he might obtain indulgence, and you were to call in your own servant,
and charge him, saying," Forgive this man the debt, and from the sum thou
owest me I will deduct this debt;" should that servant afterwards be wicked
and shameless enough to seize on his debtor, could any one then rescue
him out of your hands? Would you not most assuredly inflict a thousand
stripes upon him, as having been insulted to the last extremity? And very
justly too. This also God will do: for He will say to thee on That Day,
"O wicked and villainous servant, yea, was it of thine own thou forgavest
him? Out of what thou wert indebted to Me, thou wert ordered to account
to him. For "Remit," He saith, "and I will remit unto thee! although, to
speak truly,(1) if I had not added this condition, it would have been even
then thy duty to have remitted at the instance of thy Lord. But in this
case, I did not command thee as a master, but I asked it as a favour from
a friend; and I asked it out of My own property; and I promised to give
greater things in return; and yet with all this, thou wert not made a better
man." Moreover men, when they act in this manner, put down as much to their
own servants' accounts, as the measure of the debt is. Thus, for
example, suppose the servant owes his master a hundred pieces of gold;
and the debtor of the servant owes ten pieces, should the latter remit
his debt, the master does not remit him his hundred pieces, but these ten
only; and all the rest he still demands. But it is not so with God; if
you remit a(2) few things to your fellow-servant, He remits all your debt.
17. Whence does this appear? From the very Prayer(3)
itself. "For if," saith He, "ye forgive men their debts, your heavenly
Father will forgive your debts."(4) And as much as the difference is between
"a hundred pence" and "ten thousand talents,"(5) so great is it between
the debts on the one side, and those on the other !
What punishment then must he not deserve, who when
he would receive ten thousand talents, in the room of a hundred pence,(6)
yet will not even so remit this small sum, but offers up the Prayer against
himself. For when thou sayest, "Forgive us, as we forgive," and afterwards
dost not forgive, thou art supplicating of God nothing else than that He
would entirely deprive thee of all excuse or indulgence. "But I do not
presume to say," replies some one, "Forgive me as I forgive" but only,
"Forgive me." But what matters this? For if thou say it not thyself, yet
God so doeth; as thou forgivest, He forgives. And this He hath made quite
evident from what follows; for there it is said, "If ye forgive not men,
neither doth your heavenly Father forgive you." Think not, therefore, that
it is a pious caution, not to repeat the whole sentence; nor offer up the
Prayer by halves, but as He bade thee so pray thou, in order that the very
obligation of that expression, putting thee daily in fear, may compel thee
to the exercise of forgiveness towards thy neighbours.
18. Do not tell me, "I have besought him many times,
I have intreated, I have supplicated, but I have not effected a reconciliation."
Never desist till you have reconciled him. For He said not, "Leave thy
gift, and go thy way." Entreat thy brother. But, "Go thy way. Be reconciled."(7)
So that, although you may have made many entreaties, yet you must not desist
until you have persuaded. God entreats us every day, and we do not hear;
and yet He does not cease entreating. And dost thou then disdain to entreat
thy fellow-servant. How is it then possible for thee ever to be saved?
Suppose that thou hast often pleaded and been repulsed; for this, however,
thou wilt obtain a larger reward. For in proportion as he is contentious,
and thou perseverest in entreating, so much the more is thy recompense
increased. In proportion as the good work is accomplished with greater
difficulty, and the reconciliation is one of much labour, so much the greater
will be the judgment on him, and so much the brighter will be the crowns
of victory for thy forbearance. Let us not merely applaud all this, but
exemplify it too in our deeds; and never recede from the work, until we
are restored to our former state of friendship. For it is not enough merely
to avoid grieving an enemy, or doing him an injury, or being in our minds
unkindly disposed towards him; but it is necessary that we should prepare
him to be kindly
479
affected towards ourselves. For I hear many saying, "I have no hostility;
I am not annoyed; neither have I any thing to do with him."(1) But this
is not what God commands, that thou shouldest have nothing to do with him;
but that thou shouldest have much to do with him. For this reason he is
thy "brother."(2) For this reason He said not, "Forgive thy brother what
thou hast against him. But what then? "Go thy way. First be reconciled
to him;" and should he have "any thing against thee," yet desist not, before
thou hast reunited the member in friendly concord." But thou, who in order
that thou mayest obtain a useful servant, tellest out the gold, and discoursest
with many merchants, and often undertakest long journeys, tell me, art
thou not up and doing to the utmost, in order that thou mayest convert
an enemy into a friend? And how then wilt thou be able to call upon God,
whilst thou art thus neglecting His laws? Assuredly, the possession of
a servant will be of no great profit to us; but the making an enemy a friend,
will render God propitious and favourable toward us; and will easily set
us free from our sins; and gain us praise with men, as well as great security
in our life; for nothing can be more unsafe than he who has even only a
single enemy. For our earthly reputation is injured, whilst such a man
is saying a thousand evil things of us to every body. Our minds are also
in a state of fermentation, and our conscience disturbed; and we are exposed
to a continual tempest of anxious thoughts.
19. Now since we are conscious of the truth of all
this, let us set ourselves free from chastisement and vengeance;
and let us shew our reverence for the present feast, by doing all that
has been said; and those same favours which we think to obtain from the
Emperor on account of the feast, let us ourselves enable others to enjoy.
For I hear, indeed, many saying, that the Emperor, out of his reverence
for the Holy Passover, will be reconciled to the city and will pardon all
its offences. How absurd then is it, that when we have to depend for our
safety upon others, we bring forward the feast, and its claims; but that
when we are commanded to be reconciled one with another, we treat this
same feast with disdain, and think nothing of it. No one, truly, so pollutes
this holy feast, as he does, who, whilst he is keeping it, cherishes malignity.
Or rather, I might say, that such a person cannot possibly keep it, though
he should remain without food ten days successively. For where there is
enmity and strife, there can be neither fast nor festival. Thou wouldest
not dare to touch the holy Sacrifice with unwashed hands,(3) however pressing
the necessity might be. Approach not then with an unwashed soul! For this
is far worse than the other and brings a heavier punishment. For(4) nothing
so fills the mind with impurity, as anger remaining constantly within it.
The spirit of meekness settles not where wrath or passion exists; and when
a man is destitute of the Holy Spirit, what hope of salvation shall he
have, and how shall he walk aright? Do not then, O beloved, whilst thou
art desirous to be revenged of thine enemy, cast thyself down headlong;
nor cause thyself to be left alone without the guardianship of God! For,
in truth, if the duty were a difficult one, yet the greatness of the punishment,
which results from this action of disobedience, were sufficient to arouse
the most slothful and supine, and to persuade them to undergo every degree
of labour. But now our argument has shewn that the duty is most easy, if
we are willing.
20. Let us not then be negligent of what is our
life, but let us be in earnest; and do every thing, in order that we may
be without an enemy, and so present ourselves at the sacred Table. For
nothing,--nothing, I repeat, of what God commands will be difficult, if
we give heed: and this is evident from the case of those who are already
reformed. How many used to be cheated by the habit of using oaths, and
to fancy this practice extremely difficult of reformation. Nevertheless,
through the grace of God, when ye put forth but a little effort, ye for
the most part washed yourselves clean of this vice. For this reason I beseech
you to lay aside also what remains, and to become teachers of others. And
to those who have not yet achieved it, but allege to us the length of time
during which they were before swearers, and say that it is impossible for
them to pluck up in a short time that which has been rooted for many years;
I would make this answer, that where any precept among those commanded
by God requires to be put in due practice, there is no need of length of
time, nor of a multitude of days, nor an interval of years; but of fear
only, and reverence of
480
soul; and then we shall be sure to accomplish it, and that in a short
time. But lest you should suppose that I speak these things at random,
take a man whom you think much addicted to swearing; one that swears more
times than he speaks;(1) hand this man over to me for only ten days, and
if I do not rid him of all his habit in these few days, pass the severest
sentence on me.
21. And that these words are not a vain boast, shall
be made manifest to you from things that have already happened. What could
be more stupid than the Ninevites? What more devoid of understanding? Yet,
nevertheless, these barbarian, foolish people, who had never yet heard
any one teaching them wisdom, who had never received such precepts from
others, when they heard the prophet saying, "Yet three days, and Nineveh
shall be overthrown,"' laid aside, within three days, the whole of their
evil customs. The fornicator became chaste; the bold man meek; the grasping
and extortionate moderate and kind; the slothful industrious. They did
not, indeed, reform one, or two, or three, or four vices by way of remedy,
but the whole of their iniquity. But whence does this appear, says some
one? From the words of the prophet; for the same who had been their accuser,
and who had said, that "the cry of their wickedness hath ascended up even
to heaven:"(3) himself again bears testimony of an opposite kind, by saying,
"God saw that every one departed from their own evil ways."(4) He does
not say, from fornication, or adultery, or theft, but from their "own evil
ways." And how did they depart? As God knew, not as man judged of the matter.
After this are we not ashamed, must we not blush, if it turns out that
in three days only the barbarians laid aside all their wickedness, but
that we, who have been urged and taught during so many days,(5) have not
got the better of one bad habit? These men had, moreover, gone to the extreme
of wickedness before; for when you hear it said, "The cry of their wickedness
is come up before me;" you can understand nothing else than the excess
of their wickedness. Nevertheless, within three days they were capable
of being transformed to a state of complete(6) virtue. For where the fear
of God is, there is no need of days, or of an interval of time; as likewise,
on the contrary, days are of no service where there is a want of this fear.
For just as in the case of rusted(7) implement, he that rubs them only
with water, though he spend a long time on them, will not rid them of all
that foulness; but he that puts them in a furnace, will make them presently
brighter than even those newly fabricated: so too a soul, stained with
the rust of sin, if it cleanse itself slightly, and in a negligent way,
and be every day repenting, will gain no further advantage. But if it cast
itself into the furnace, as it were, of the fear of God, it will in a very
short time purge all away.
22. Let us not then be procrastinating till to-morrow.
For we "know not what the next day may bring forth;"(8) nor let us
say, "we shall conquer this habit by little and little;" since this little
and little will never come to an end. Wherefore, dismissing that excuse,
we should say, "If we do not reform the practice of swearing to-day, we
will not leave off till we do,(9) though ten thousand things were to press
us; though it were necessary to die, or to be punished, or to lose all
we have; we will not give the devil the advantage of slackness, nor the
pretext of delay." Should God perceive thy soul inflamed, and thy diligence
quickened, then He also Himself will lend His assistance to thy reformation
! Yea, I pray and beseech you, let us be in earnest, lest we also hear
it said of us, "The men of Nineveh shall rise up, and shall condemn this
generation;"(10) for these, when they had once heard, reformed themselves;
but we are not converted after frequent hearing. These were proficients
in every part of virtue, but we in no part. They when they heard that their
city would be overthrown were affrighted; but we, though we have heard
of Hell, are not affrighted: these, men who did not partake of the instructions
of the prophets; we, enjoying the advantage of perpetual teaching, and
of much grace.
23. These things I now speak to you, not as if reproving
you for your own sins, but for the sake of others; for I know full well
that by you (as I have already observed), this law concerning swearing
has been accomplished. But this does not suffice for our safety, unless
by teaching we amend others, since he who produced the one talent, restoring
as he did the whole portion committed to him, was
481
punished, because he had not enriched that with which he was entrusted.
Wherefore, let us not regard this point, that we ourselves have been set
free from this sin; but until we have delivered others from it, let us
not desist; and let every one offer to God ten friends whom he has corrected;
whether thou hast servants, or apprentices:(1) or if you have neither servants,
nor apprentices, you have friends; these do thou reform. Further, do not
make me this reply; "We have banished oaths for the most part, and we are
rarely caught in that snare;" but let even this rarity of offending be
got rid of. If you had lost one piece of gold, would you not go about to
all persons, searching and making enquiry, in order to find it? This do
also with regard to oaths. If you perceive that you have been cheated out
of one oath, weep, lament, as though your whole substance were lost. Again
I say what I did before. Shut up thyself at home; make it a subject of
practice and exercise along with thy wife, thy children, and domestics.
Say to thyself in the first instance, "I must not put a finger to private
or public matters until I have rectified this soul of mine." If you will
thus school your own sons, they too will instruct their children in turn,
and thus this discipline, reaching even to the consummation and appearing
of Christ, will bring all that great reward to those who go to the root
of the matter. If your son has learnt to say, "Believe me;"(2) he will
not be able to go up to the theatre, or to enter a tavern, or to spend
his time at dice; for that word, lying upon his mouth instead of a bridle,
will make him however unwilling feel shame and blush. But if at any time
he should appear in these places, it will quickly compel him to retreat.(3)
Suppose some persons laugh. Do thou on the other hand weep for their transgression!
Many also once laughed at Noah whilst he was preparing the ark; but when
the flood came, he laughed at them; or rather, the just man never laughed
at them at all, but wept and bewailed! When therefore thou seest persons
laughing, reflect that those teeth, that grin now, will one day have to
sustain that most dreadful wailing and gnashing, and that they will remember
this same laugh on That Day whilst they are grinding and gnashing ! Then
thou too shalt remember this laugh ! How did the rich man laugh at Lazarus
! But afterwards, when he beheld him in Abraham's bosom, he had nothing
left to do but to bewail himself !
24. Being mindful then of all these things, be urgent
with all, for the speedy fulfilment of this precept. And tell me not, that
you will do this by little and little; nor put it off till the morrow,
for this to-morrow never finds an end. Forty days(4) have already passed
away. Should the Holy Easter pass away, I will thenceforward pardon no
one, nor employ further admonition, but a commanding authority, and severity
not to be despised. For this apology drawn from custom is of no force.
Why may not the thief as well plead custom, and get free from punishment?
Why may not the murderer and adulterer? Therefore I protest, and give warning
to all, that if, when I have met you in private, and put the matter to
the proof (and I will certainly put it to the proof), I detect any who
have not corrected this vice, I will inflict punishment upon them, by ordering
them to be excluded from the Holy Mysteries;(5) not that they may remain
always shut out, but that having reformed themselves, they may thus enter
in, and with a pure conscience enjoy the Holy Table; for this is to be
a partaker of the Communion! God grant that through the prayers of those
who preside over us,(6) as well as of all the saints, having corrected
these and all other deficiencies, we may obtain the kingdom of heaven through
the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom to the
Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, honour, and adoration,
now and ever, world without end. Amen.
482
HOMILY XXI.
On the return of Flavian the Bishop, and the reconciliation of the Emperor
with the city, and with(1) those who had offended in overthrowing the Statues.
1. TO-DAY, I shall begin with that very same saying
with which I have ever been used to open my address to you during the season
of danger, and shall say together with you, "Blessed be God," Who hath
granted us this day to celebrate this holy Feast with much joy and gladness;
and hath restored the head to the body, the shepherd to the sheep, the
master to the disciples, the general to the soldiers, the High Priest to
the Priests! Blessed be God, "Who doeth exceeding abundantly above what
we ask or think!"(2) For to us it would have seemed sufficient, had we
been but delivered from the hitherto impending evil; and for this we made
all our supplication. But the God who loveth man, and ever in His giving
surpasseth our prayers by an excess of bounty, hath brought back our Father
too, sooner than we could at all have expected. Who would, indeed, have
thought that in so few days, he would have gone, and have had audience
with the Emperor, and set us free from the calamity, and again come back
to us so quickly, as to be able to anticipate the Holy Passover, and to
celebrate it with ourselves? Behold, however, this event, which was so
contrary to expectation, hath been realized ! We have received back our
Father; and we enjoy so much the greater pleasure, inasmuch as we have
received him back now beyond our hopes. For all these things, let us give
thanks to the merciful God, and be amazed at the power, the lovingkindness,
the wisdom, and the tender care which has been manifested on behalf of
the city. For the devil had attempted its entire subversion through the
daring crimes committed; but God, by means of this same calamity, hath
adorned the city, the Priest, and the Emperor; and hath made them all more
illustrious.
2. The city hath won renown, because when such a
danger had overtaken her, passing by at once all those who were in power,
those who were surrounded with much wealth, those who possessed great influence
with the Emperor, it fled for refuge to the Church, and to the Priest of
God, and with much faith, rested itself entirely upon the hope which is
from above! Many indeed, after the departure of the common Father, were
ready to terrify those who lay in prison, by saying, "The Emperor does
not lay aside(3) his wrath, but is still more provoked, and is thinking
of the utter ruin of the city." But whilst they were whispering all this,
and much more, they who were then in bonds were not the least intimidated,
but upon our saying, "These things are false, and they are a device of
the devil, who desires to fill you with consternation;" they replied to
us," We need no consolation to be addressed to us; for we know where we
have taken refuge from the first; and upon what hope we have rested ourselves.
We have fixed our safety upon the sacred anchor! We have not entrusted
this to man, but to the Almighty God; therefore we are most assuredly confident,
that the result will be favourable; for it is impossible, truly impossible,
that this hope can ever be confounded!" To how many crowns, how many encomiums,
is this equivalent for our city? How much of God's favour will it draw
down upon us too in our other affairs ! For it is not, indeed it is not
a thing belonging to a soul of mean order to be watchful against the attack
of temptations, and to look to God; and scorning all that is human, to
yearn after that Divine aid.
3. The city then hath thus won renown; and the Priest
again not less than the city, for be exposed his life for all; and while
there were many things to hinder him, as the winter, his age, the feast,
and not less than these, his sister, then at her last breath, he raised
himself above all these obstacles, and did not say to himself, "What a
thing is this? Our only remaining sister, she who hath drawn the yoke of
Christ along with me, and who hath been my domestic companion so long,
is now at her last breath; and shall we desert her, and go hence, and not
behold her expiring, and uttering her paring words? But she indeed was
praying daily, that we might close her eyes,(4) and shut and compose her
mouth, and attend to all other things
483
pertaining to the burial; but now in this case, as one deserted, and
deprived of a protector, she will obtain none of these offices from her
brother; of him whom she especially desired to obtain them; but when she
gives up the ghost, she will not see him whom she loved more to have with
her than all others? And will not this be heavier to her than dying many
times over? Yes, although I were far away, would it not be right to come
with speed, and do, and suffer any thing, for the purpose of shewing her
this kindness? And now when I am near, shall I leave her, and taking my
departure abandon her? And how then will she sustain the remainder of her
days?"
4. Yet, so far was he from saying any of these things,
that he did not even think of them; but esteeming the fear of God above
all the ties of kindred, he recognized the fact, that as tempests display
the pilot, and dangers the general, so also a time of trial makes the Priest
to become manifest. "All men," saith he, "are eagerly looking on us; the
Jews as well as the Greeks; let us not confound the expectations which
these have of us; let us not overlook so great a shipwreck; but having
committed to God all things that pertain to ourselves, let us venture our
life itself too!" Consider, moreover, the magnanimity of the Priest, and
the lovingkindness of God ! All those things which he disregarded, all
those he enjoyed; in order that he might both receive the reward of his
readiness, and that he might obtain a greater pleasure by enjoying them
contrary to expectation! He preferred to celebrate the festival in a foreign
place, and far from his own people, for the sake of the city's safety.
But God restored him to us before the Paschal feast, so as to take a common
part with us in the conduct of the festival; in order that he might have
the reward of his choice, and enjoy the greater gladness ! He feared not
the season of the year; and there was summer during the whole period he
was travelling. He took not his age into account; and he dispatched this
long journey with just as much ease as if he had been young and sprightly!
He thought not of his sisters decease nor was enervated by it, and when
he returned he found her still alive, and all things which were disregarded
by him, were all obtained !
5. Thus, the priest hath indeed won renown both
with God and man ! This transaction hath also adorned the Emperor with
a splendour beyond the diadem ! First, in that it was then made apparent
that he would grant that to the priests which he would not to any other;
secondly, that he granted the favour without delay, and quelled his resentment.
But that you may more clearly understand the magnanimity of the Emperor,
and the wisdom of the priest, and more than both these, the lovingkindness
of God; allow me to relate to you a few particulars of the conference which
took place. But what I am now about to relate I learnt from one of those
who were within the palace; for the Father has told us neither much nor
little on the affair; but ever imitating the magnanimity of Paul, he hides
his own good deeds; and to those who on all sides were asking him questions
as to what he said to the Emperor; and how he prevailed upon him; and how
he turned away his wrath entirely, he replied, "We contributed nothing
to the matter, but the Emperor himself (God having softened his heart),
even before we had spoken, dismissed his anger, and quelled his resentment;
and discoursing of the events that had taken place as if some other person
had been insulted, he thus went over all the events that had happened without
anger." But those things which he concealed from humility, God hath brought
to light.
6. And what were these? I will proceed to relate
them to you by going a little farther back in the story. When he went forth
from the city, leaving all in such great despondency, he endured what was
far more grievous than we ourselves suffered, who were in the midst of
these calamities. For, in the first place, meeting in the midst of his
journey with those who had been sent by the Emperor to make inquisition
upon the events which had happened; and learning from them, on what terms
they were sent; and reflecting upon the dreadful events that were in store
for the city, the tumults, the confusion, the flight, the terror, the agony,
the perils, he wept a flood of tears, and his bowels were rent with compassion;
for with fathers, it is usual to grieve much more, when they are not able
to be present with their suffering children; which was just what this most
tender-hearted man now endured; not only lamenting the calamities which
were in reserve for us, but that he was far away from us, whist we were
enduring them. But this was, however, for our safety. For as soon as he
had learned these things from them; more warmly did the fountain of his
tears then gush forth, and he betook himself to God with more fervent supplication;
and spent his nights without sleep, beseeching Him that He would succour
the city, while enduring these things, and make the mind of the Emperor
more placable. And as soon as he came to that great city,
484
and had entered the royal palace, he stood before the Emperor at a distance,--speechless,--weeping,--with
downcast eyes,--covering his face as if he himself had been the doer of
all the mischief; and this he did, wishing first to incline him to mercy
by his posture, and aspect, and tears; and then to begin an apology on
our behalf; since there is but one hope of pardon for those who have offended,
which is to be silent, and to utter nothing in defence of what has been
done. For he was desirous that one feeling should be got rid of, and that
another should take its place; that anger should be expelled, and sadness
introduced,(1) in order that he might thus prepare the way for the words
of his apology; which indeed actually took place. And just as Moses going
up to the mount, when the people had offended, stood speechless himself,
until God called him, saying, "Let me alone, and I will blot out this people;"(2)
so also did he now act: The Emperor therefore, when he saw him shedding
tears, and bending toward the ground, himself drew near; and what he really
felt on seeing the tears of the priest, he made evident by the words he
addressed to him; for they were not those of a person provoked or inflamed,
but of one in sorrow; not of one enraged, but rather dejected, and under
constraint of extreme pain.
7. And that this is true, ye will understand when
ye hear what were his words. For he did not say, "What does this mean?
Hast thou come heading an embassy on behalf of impious and abominable men,
such as ought not even to live; on behalf of rebels,(3) of revolutionists,
who deserve the utmost punishment?" But dismissing all words of that sort,
he composed a defence of himself full of respectfulness and dignity; and
he enumerated the benefits, which during the whole time of his reign he
had conferred upon the city; and at each of these be said, "Was it thus
I should have been treated in return for these things? What injuries had
I done, that they should take such revenge? What complaint had they, great
or small, that they must not insult me only, but the deceased also?(4)
Was it not sufficient to wreak their resentment against the living? Yet
they thought they were doing nothing grand, unless they insulted those
now in their graves. Granting that I had injured them, as they suppose;
surely it would have been becoming to spare the dead, who had done them
no wrong; for they could not have the same complaint against them. Did
I not ever esteem this city above every thing, and account it as dearer
than my native place? And was it not a matter of my continual prayers to
visit this city; and did I not make this my oath(5) to all men?"
8. Upon this, the priest sobbing bitterly, and shedding
warmer tears, no longer kept silence: for he saw that the defence of the
Emperor was raising our crime to a still higher amount; but heaving from
the bottom of his heart(6) a deep and bitter sigh, he said, "We must confess,
O Emperor, this love which you have shewn towards our country ! We cannot
deny it! On this account, especially, we mourn, that a city thus beloved
has been bewitched by demons; and that we should have appeared ungrateful
towards her benefactor, and have provoked her ardent lover. And although
you were to overthrow; although you were to burn; although you were to
put to death; or whatever else you might do, you would never yet have taken
on us the revenge we deserve. We ourselves have, by anticipation, inflicted
on ourselves what is worse than a thousand deaths ! For what can be more
bitter, than when we are found to have unjustly provoked our benefactor,
and one who loved us so much, and the whole world knows it, and condemns
us for the most monstrous ingratitude! If Barbarians had made an incursion
on our city,(7) and razed its walls, and burnt its houses, and had taken
and carried us away captive, the evil had been less. And why so? but because,
whilst you live, and continue such a generous kindness towards us, there
might be a hope that we might again be brought back to our former condition,
and regain a more illustrious liberty. But now, having been deprived of
your favour, and having quenched yore love, which was a greater security
to us than any wall, whom have we left to fly to? Where else shall we have
to look, when we have provoked so benign a lord, so indulgent a father?
So that while they seem to have committed offences of the most intolerable
kind, they have on the other hand suffered the most terrible evils; not
daring to look any man in the face; nor being able to look upon the sun
with free eyes; shame every where weighing down their eyelids, and
compelling them to hide their heads ! Deprived of their confidence, they
are now in a more
485
miserable condition than any captives, and undergo the umost dishonour;
and whilst thinking of the magnitude of their evils, and the height of
insolence to which they have rushed, they can scarce draw breath; inasmuch
as they have drawn on their own heads severer reproaches from all the inhabitants
of the world, than even from him who is seen to have been insulted.
9. But yet, O Emperor, if you are willing, there
is a remedy for the wound, and a medicine for these evils, mighty as they
are! Often, indeed, has it occurred amongst private individuals, that great
and insufferable offences have become a foundation for great affection.
Thus also did it happen in the case of our human race. For when God made
man, and placed him in Paradise, and held him in much honour; the devil
could not bear this his great prosperity, and envied him, and cast him
out from that dignity which had been granted. But God was so far from forsaking
him, that He even opened Heaven to us instead of Paradise; and in so doing,
both shewed His own lovingkindness, and punished the devil the more severely.
So do thou too now ! The demons have lately used all their efforts, that
they may effectually rend from your favour that city which was dearest
of all to you. Knowing this then, demand what penalty you will, but let
us not become outcasts from your former love! Nay, though it is a strange
thing, I must say, display towards us now still greater kindness than ever;
and again write this city's name among the foremost in your love;--if you
are indeed desirous of being revenged upon the demons who were the instigators
of these crimes! For if you pull down, and overturn, and raze the city,
you will be doing those very things which they have long been desiring.
But if you dismiss your anger, and again avow that you love it even as
you did before, you have given them a deadly blow. You have taken the most
perfect revenge upon them by shewing, not only that nothing whatever has
come for them of their evil designs; but that all hath proved the very
opposite of what they wished. And you would be just in acting thus, and
in shewing mercy to a city, which the demons envied on account of your
affection; for if you had not so exceedingly loved her, they would not
have envied her to such a degree! So that even if what I have asserted
is extraordinary, it is nevertheless, true, that what the city hath suffered,
hath been owing to thee, and thy love ! What burning, what devastation,
so bitter as those words, which you uttered in your own defence?
10. You say now, that you have been insulted, and sustained wrongs
such as no Emperor ever yet did. But if you will, O most gracious, most
wise, and most religious Sovereign, this contempt will procure you a crown,
more honourable and splendid than the diadem you wear ! For this diadem
is a display of your princely virtue, but it is also a token of the munificence
of him who gave it; but the crown woven from this your humanity will be
entirely your own good work, and that of your own love of wisdom; and all
men will admire you less for the sake of these precious stones,(1) than
they will applaud you for your superiority over this wrath. Were your Statues
thrown down? You have it in your power again to set up others yet more
splendid. For if you remit the offences of those who have done you injury,
and take no revenge upon them, they will erect a statue to you, not one
in the forum of brass, nor of gold, nor inlaid with gems; but one arrayed
in that robe which is more precious than any material, that of humanity
and tender mercy ! Every man will thus set you up in his own soul; and
you will have as many statues, as there are men who now inhabit, or shall
hereafter inhabit, the whole world! For not only we, but all those who
come after us, and their successors, will hear of these things, and will
admire and love you, just as if they themselves had experienced this kindness
!
11. And to shew that I do not speak this in a way
of flattery, but that it will certainly be so, I will relate to you an
ancient piece of history, that you may understand that no armies, nor warlike
weapons, nor money, nor multitude of subjects, nor any other such things
are wont to make sovereigns so illustrious, as wisdom of soul and gentleness.
It is related of the blessed Constantine, that on one occasion, when a
statue of himself had been pelted with stones, and many were instigating
him to proceed against the perpetrators of the outrage; saying, that they
had disfigured his whole face by battering it with stones, he stroked his
face with his hand, and smiling gently, said, "I am quite unable to perceive
any wound inflicted upon my face. The head appears sound, and the face
also quite sound." Thus these persons, overwhelmed with shame, desisted
from their unrighteous counsel.
This saying, even to the present day, all repeat;
and length of time hath neither
486
weakened nor extinguished the memory of such exalted wisdom. How much
more illustrious is such an action, than any number of warlike trophies!
Many and great titles did he build, and many barbarous tribes did he conquer;
not one of which we now remember; but this saying is repeated over and
over again, to the present day; and those who follow us, as well as those
who come after them, will all hear of it. Nor indeed is this the only admirable
thing; that they will hear of it; but that when men speak of it, they do
so with approbation and applause; and those who hear of it, receive it
with the like; and there is no one who, when he has heard it, is able to
remain silent, but each at once cries out, and applauds the man who uttered
it, and prays that innumerable blessings may be his lot even now deceased.
But if amongst men, this saying has gained him so much honour, how many
crowns will he obtain with the merciful God !
12. And why need I speak of Constantine, and other
men's examples, when it were fitting that I should exhort you by considerations
nearer home, and drawn from your own praiseworthy actions. You remember
how but lately, when this feast was near at hand, you sent an epistle to
every part of the world giving orders that the inmates of the prisons should
be set free, and their crimes be pardoned. And as if this were not sufficient
to give proof of your generosity, you said in your letters, "O that it
were possible for me to recal and to restore those who are dead, and to
bring them back to their former state of life !" Remember now these words.
Behold the season of recalling and restoring the deceased, and bringing
them back to former life ! For these are indeed already dead, even before
the sentence hath been pronounced; and the city hath now taken up its tabernacle
at the very gates of Hades! Therefore raise it up again, which you can
do without money, without expense, without loss of time or labour! It is
sufficient merely for you to open your lips, and you will restore to life
the city which at present lieth in darkness. Grant now, that henceforth
it may bear an appellation derived from your philanthropy; for it will
not be so much indebted to the kindness of him who first founded it, as
it will be to your sentence. And this is exceedingly reasonable; for he
but gave it its beginning, and departed; but you, when it had grown up
and become great; and when it was fallen, alter all that great prosperity;
will have been its restorer. There would have been nothing so wonderful
in your having delivered it from danger, when enemies had captured, and
barbarians overrun it, as in your now sparing it. That, many of the Emperors
have frequently done; but should you alone accomplish this, you will be
first in doing it, and that beyond all expectation. And the former of these
good deeds, the protection of your subjects, is not at all wonderful or
extraordinary; but is one of those events which are of continual occurrence;
but the latter, the dismissal of wrath after the endurance of such provocations,
is something which surpasses human nature.
13. Reflect, that the matter now for your consideration
is not respecting this city only, but is one that concerns your own glory;
or rather, one that affects the cause of Christianity in general. Even
now the Gentiles, and Jews, and the whole empire as well as the barbarians,
(for these last have also heard of these events,) are eagerly looking to
you, and waiting to see what sentence you will pronounce with regard to
these transactions. And should you decree a humane and merciful one; all
will applaud the decision, and glorify God, and say one to another, "Heavens
! how great is the power of Christianity, that it restrains and bridles
a man who has no equal upon earth; a sovereign, powerful enough to destroy
and devastate all things; and teaches him to practice such philosophy as
one in a private station had not been likely to display ! Great indeed
must be the God of the Christians, who makes angels out of men, and renders
them superior to all the constraining force of our nature !"
14. Nor ought you, assuredly, to entertain that
idle fear; nor to bear with those who say that other cites will become
worse, and grow more contemptuous of authority, if this city goes unpunished.
For if you were unable to take vengeance; and they, after doing these things,
had forcibly defied you; and the power on each side was equally matched;
then reasonably enough might such suspicions be entertained. But if, terrified
and half dead with fear, they run to cast themselves at your feet, through
me; and expect daily nothing else but the pit of slaughter, and are engaged
in common supplications; looking up to heaven and calling upon God to come
to their aid, and to favour this our embassy; and have each given charge
about his private affairs, as if they were at their last gasp; how can
such a fear be otherwise than superfluous? If they had been ordered to
be put to death, they would not have suffered as much as they do now, living
as they have done so many days in fear and trembling; and when the evening
approaches, not expecting to behold the morning; nor when the day arrives,
hop-
487
ing to reach the evening! Many too have fallen in with wild beasts,
while pursuing their way through desert places, and removing to untrodden
spots; and not men only, but also little children and women; free born,
and of good condition; hiding themselves many days and nights in caves,
and ravines, and holes of the desert! A new mode of captivity hath indeed
befallen the city. Whilst the buildings and walls are standing, they suffer
heavier calamities than when cities have been set on fire ! Whilst no barbarian
foe is present, whilst no enemy appears, they are more wretchedly situated
than if actually taken; and the rustling only of a leaf scares them all
every day ! And these are matters which are universally known; so that
if all men had seen the city razed to the ground, they would not have been
taught such a lesson of sobriety, as by hearing of the calamities which
have now befallen it. Suppose not, therefore, that other cities will be
made worse in future! Not even if you had overturned other cities, would
you have so effectually corrected them, as now, by this suspense concerning
their fate, having chastised(1) them more severely than by any punishment
!
15. Do not, then, carry this calamity any father;
but allow them henceforth to take breath again. For to punish the guilty,
and to exact the penalty for these deeds, were easy and open to any one;
but to spare those who have insulted you, and to pardon those who have
committed offences undeserving of pardon, is an act of which only some
one or two are capable; and especially so, where the person treated with
indignity is the Emperor. It is an easy matter to place the city under
the subjection of fear; but to dispose all to be loving subjects; and to
persuade them to hold themselves well affected towards your government;
and to offer not only their common, but individual prayers for your empire;
is a work of difficulty. A monarch might expend his treasures, or put innumerable
troops in motion, or do what else he pleased, but still he would not be
able to draw the affections of so many men towards himself as may now very
easily be done. For they who have been kindly dealt with, and those who
hear of it too, will be well affected towards you, even as the recipients
of the benefit. How much money, how many labours would you not have expended
to win over to yourself the whole world in a short space of time; and to
be able to persuade all those men who are now in existence, as well as
all future generations, to invoke upon your head the same blessings which
they pray for on behalf of their own children! And if you will receive
such a reward from men, how much greater will you have from God! And this,
not merely from the events which are now taking place, but from those good
deeds which shall be performed by others in time to come. For if ever it
should be that an event similar to what has now occurred should take place,
(which God forbid!) and any of those who have been treated with indignity,
should then be consulting about prosecuting measures against the rioters;
your gentleness and moral wisdom will serve them instead of all other teaching
and admonition; and they will blush and be ashamed, having such an example
of wisdom, to appear inferior. So that in this way you will be an instructor
to all posterity; and you will obtain the palm amongst them, even although
they should attain to the highest point of moral wisdom ! For it is not
the same thing for a person to set the first example of such meekness him-sell
and by looking at others, to imitate the good actions they have performed.
On this account, whatever philanthropy, or meekness, those who come after
you may display, you will enjoy the reward along with them; for he who
provides the root, must be considered the source of the fruits. For this
reason, no one can possibly now share with you the reward that will follow
your generosity, since the good deed hath been entirely your own. But you
will share the reward of all those who shall come after, if any such persons
should make their appearance; and it will be in your power to have an equal
share in the merit of the good work along with them, and to carry off a
portion as great as teachers have with scholars. And supposing that no
such person should come into being, the tribute of commendation and applause
will be accumulating to you throughout every age.
16. For consider, what it is for all posterity to
hear it reported, that when so great a city had become obnoxious to punishment
and vengeance, that when all were terrified, when its generals, its magistrates
and judges, were all in horror and alarm, and did not dare to utter a word
on behalf of the wretched people; a single old man, invested with the priesthood
of God, came and moved the heart of the Monarch by his mere aspect and
intercourse; and that the favour which he bestowed upon no other of his
subjects, he granted to this one old man, being actuated by a reverence
for God's laws ! For in this very thing, O Emperor, that I have been sent
hither on this embassy, the city hath done you no small honour; for they
have thus
488
pronounced the best and the most honourable judgment on you, which is,
that you respect the priests of God, however insignificant they may be,
more than any office placed under your authority !
17. But at the present time I have come not from
these only, but rather from One who is the common Lord of angels and men,
to address these words to your most merciful and most gentle soul, "if
ye forgive men their debts, your heavenly Father will forgive you your
trespasses."(1) Remember then that Day when we shall all give an account
of our actions ! Consider that if you have sinned in any respect, you will
be able to wipe away all offences by this sentence(2) and by this determination,
and that without difficulty and without toil. Some when they go on an embassy,
bring gold, and silver, and other gifts of that kind. But I am come into
your royal presence with the sacred laws; and instead of all other gifts,
I present these; and I exhort you to imitate your Lord, who whilst He is
daily insulted by us, unceasingly ministers His blessings to all ! And
do not confound our hopes, nor defeat our promises.(3) For I wish you withal
to understand, that if it be your resolution to be reconciled, and to restore
your former kindness to the city, and to remit this just displeasure, I
shall go back with great confidence. But if you determine to cast off the
city, I shall not only never return to it, nor see its soil again, but
I shall in future utterly disown it, and enrol myself a member of some
other city; for God forbid that I should ever belong to that country, which
you, the most mild and merciful of all men, refuse to admit to peace and
reconciliation!
18. Having said this, and much more to the same
effect, he so overcame the Emperor, that the same thing occurred which
once happened to Joseph. For just as he, when he beheld his brethren, longed
to shed tears, but restrained his feeling, in order that he might not spoil
the part which he was playing;(4) even so did the Emperor mentally weep,
but did not let it be seen, for the sake of those who were present. He
was not, however, able to conceal the feeling at the close of the conference;
but betrayed himself, though against his will. For after this speech was
finished, no further words were necessary, but he gave utterance to one
only sentiment, which did him much more honour than the diadem. And what
was that? "How, said he, " can it be any thing wonderful or great, that
we should remit our anger against those who have treated us with indignity;
we, who ourselves are but men; when the Lord of the universe, having come
as He did on earth, and having been made a servant for us, and crucified
by those who had experienced His kindness, besought the Father on behalf
of His crucifiers, saying, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do?
"(5) What marvel, then, if we also should forgive our fellow-servants !
And that these words were not a pretence was proved by all that followed.
And not the least, that particular circumstance which I am now about to
mention; for this our priest, when he would have remained there, and celebrated
the feast together with himself, he urged, though contrary to what he would
have wished,--to use all speed, and diligence, to present himself to his
fellow-citizens. "I know," said he, "that their souls are still agitated;
and that there are many relics of the calamity left. Go, give them consolation
! If they see the helmsman, they will no longer remember the storm
that has passed away; but all recollection of these sorrowful events will
be effaced!" And when the Priest was urgent, entreating him to send his
own son, he, wishing to give the most satisfactory proof of his having
entirely blotted out from his soul every wrathful feeling, answered; "Pray
that these hindrances may be taken out of the way; that these wars may
be put an end to;(6) and then I will certainly come myself."
19. What could be gentler than such a soul? Let
the Gentiles henceforward be ashamed; or rather, instead of being ashamed,
let them be instructed; and leaving their native error, let them come back(7)
to the strength of Christianity, having learned what our philosophy is,
from the example of the Emperor and of the Priest! For our most pious Emperor
stayed not at this point; but when the Bishop had left the city, and come
over the sea, he dispatched thither also certain persons, being most solicitous
and painstaking to prevent any waste of time lest the city should be thus
deprived of half its pleasure, whilst the bishop was celebrating the feast
beyond its walls. Where is the gracious father that would have so busied
himself on behalf of those who had insulted him? But I must mention another
circum-
489
stance that redounds to the praise of the just man.(1) For when he had
accomplished this, he did not make it his endeavour, as any one else might
have done, who was fond of glory, to deliver those letters himself, which
were to set us free from the state of dejection in which we were; but since
he was journeying at too slow a rate for this, he thought proper to send
forward another person in his stead; one among those who were skilled in
horsemanship, to be the bearer of the good news to the city;(2) lest its
sadness should be prolonged by the tardiness of his arrive. For the only
thing he earnestly coveted was this; not that he might come himself, bringing
these favourable tidings, so full of all that is delightful, but that our
country might as soon as possible breathe freely again.
20. What therefore ye then did, in decking the forum
with garlands; lighting lamps, spreading couches(3) of green leaves before
the shops, and keeping high festival, as if the city had just come into
being, this do ye, although in another manner, throughout all time;--being
crowned, not with flowers, but with virtue;--kindling in your souls the
light which comes from good works; rejoicing with a spiritual gladness.
And let us never fail to give God thanks continually for all these things,
not only that he hath freed us from these calamities, but that he also
pertained them to happen; and let us acknowledge his abundant goodness!
for by both these has He adorned our city.(4) Now all these things according
to the prophetic saying, "Declare ye to your children; and let your children
tell their children; and their children again another generation."(5) So
that all who shall be hereafter, even to the consummation, learning this
act of God's lovingkindness towards the city, may call us blessed, in having
enjoyed such a favour;--may marvel at our Sovereign, who raised up the
city when it was so grievously falling;--and may themselves be profited,
being stimulated to piety by means of all which has happened! For the history
of what has lately happened to us, will have power to profit not only ourselves,
if we constantly remember it, but also those who shall come after us. All
these things then being considered, let us always give thanks to God who
loveth man; not merely for our deliverance from these fearful evils, but
for their being permitted to overtake us,--learning this from the divine
Scriptures, as well as from the late events that have befallen us; that
He ever disposes all things for our advantage, with that lovingkindness
which is His attribute, which God grant, that we may continually enjoy,
and so may obtain the kingdom of heaven, in Christ Jesus our Lord; to whom
be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Return to www.BrainFly.Net