Homily

is the genealogy led. But since Melchizedek was a type of the Lord, and carried the image of Christ, just as Jonah did, therefore Scripture says he was "without father and without genealogy," so that we might gaze upon Christ in him as in an image. The Melchizedekians also object to us: "Why," they say, "does the Father say to him, 'You are a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek' (Ps. 109:4)?" To whom we respond, that this Melchizedek was a just man, and truly bore the image of Christ. Moved therefore by the prophetic spirit, perceiving the offering to be brought forth for the Gentiles, he honored God with bread and wine, imitating Him who was to come, Christ. Since, therefore, the synagogue of the Jews was offering sacrifice to God according to the order of Aaron, not bread and wine, but calves and lambs, and was glorifying God with bloody sacrifices, God cries out and says to Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was to be born of the Virgin Mary: "You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek; not according to the order of Aaron," who worshiped with calves and lambs; "but, You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek," bringing forever the offering of those who bring it, with bread and wine. Through whom to the Father be glory with the most holy Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen. For I have one year remaining upon having stepped into your city, ^B litanies, with one day having passed in between, let such people, therefore, be cast out,

AD MONITION TO THE FOLLOWING HOMILY

^A such men; but that it may be proven that he said these things from his heart and sincerely, a few words being interjected, he speaks thus: But if you have been terrified while hearing this sentence (for I see everyone groaning and pricked in heart), let them repent, and the sentence is released, ^B *let them be cast out* (μεταβαλλέσθωσαν, καὶ λύεται τὰ τῆς ἀποφάσεως). These words seem to put forward the sentence as truly pronounced. But I think these things were said by the prelate only in the spirit of threatening, and he would not have wished anyone to undergo excommunication unless they had fallen into the same sin again, those who had run to the spectacles.

Another thing is proposed to be explored, namely, on what day Chrysostom gave this sermon: for the matter does not seem to be without difficulty. For in this sermon he says, "three days ago [there was] a heavy rain" (πρὸ τριῶν ἡμερῶν ἐπομβρία). Now that rain fell on Wednesday of Holy Week, and on Thursday, the Supper of the Lord, nothing is remembered to have happened; on Good Friday, equestrian games turned many away, [and on] Saturday the same people went to the theatrical spectacles. From hence it seems to follow that this Homily was given on holy Easter day itself; counting back between that day and the Wednesday preceding, three days intervene, full and complete—Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. But if the sermon was given on Easter, why is there not even a word about the resurrection of the Lord in the whole homily? For even if it could perhaps be said that Chrysostom gave an address to vent his indignation upon those who went to the theaters on holy days, and thought of nothing else, was it proper on the holy day of Easter to have nothing at all about such a great celebration, not even to speak of it briefly? But if we move the Homily to the following day, another difficulty arises: for not only three days, but four full and complete days intervene; but perhaps Chrysostom said "three days" without counting, which in his case is not unusual. As for the matter, otherwise, we leave it in doubt, not being of such great moment.

^D This difficulty can be easily resolved, provided it be held as certain that this homily was delivered on the day of Pascha. For just as Chrysostom the presbyter often gave a sermon with the bishop and others on the same day and continuously in church, a fact which appears from his sermons: so he could have given an address after the bishop or another, whether presbyter or another, on the day of Pascha, and he himself have argued gravely against spectacles and theaters. I have on this matter the agreement of Montfaucon. See Vol. V, p. 118, n.b. Add to these the Preface of Fr. Matthaei to the book inscribed: *J. Chrysostomi Homilia IV*, Vol. 2, p. 77, Misen, 1792. To these add Montf. Pref. of this volume, § 11, the same volume, p. 321.

OF OUR HOLY FATHER JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, HOMILY, Admonishing those who have abandoned the church and deserted to the hippodromes and theaters.

^A These things are unbearable; these things are intolerable. For I wish to use these very things, like a judge, against you. So too did God once act towards the Hebrews; for when He was complaining against them, He thus addressed them: "My people, what have I done to you, or in what have I saddened you, or brought trouble upon you? Answer me." And again: "What did your fathers find of sin in me?" I too shall imitate Him, and I shall speak to you again thus: Are these things bearable? Are these things tolerable? After long periods of sermons, and so much teaching, some have abandoned us and deserted to the show of competing horses, and have been so debauched that they have filled the whole city with cries and shouts that are unseemly and provoke much laughter, or rather, they bring mourning. ^B Therefore, sitting at home and hearing the voice bursting forth, I was suffering more severely than those who are tossed by a storm. For just as they, with the waves breaking against the sides of the ship, fear as they are in extreme danger, so too were those shouts bursting forth at me more painfully, and I was looking down to the ground, covered in shame: others, who were seated above, behaving so disgracefully and indecorously; others, indeed, who were below in the middle of the market, urging on the charioteers, applauding, and using shouts harsher than those. What, furthermore, shall we say? Or what defense shall we prepare if some stranger standing by should accuse us and say: "Is this the city of the apostles? Is this the one that received such a teacher? Is this how a Christ-loving people behaves, a theater that is not fictitious, but spiritual? ^C You did not even reverence this very day, on which the symbols of the salvation of our race were accomplished; but on the Preparation, when your Master was being crucified for the world, and such a sacrifice was being offered, and Paradise was being opened, and the thief was being led back into his ancient homeland, and the curse was being dissolved, and sin was being blotted out, and the long-standing war was being taken away, and God was being reconciled with men, and all things were being transformed: on that very day, on which it was necessary to fast, to glorify, and to return thanks by praying to the One who brought so many good things to the world—then you, having abandoned the church and the spiritual sacrifice, and the gathering of the brethren, and the solemnity of fasting, were carried off, a captive by the devil, to that spectacle— ^D and you, comforting your pain at this with the thought of—lest I should press upon it with silence, but rather bring it into the middle,

and place it before your eyes. How shall we be able to make God propitious hereafter? How reconcile Him when He is angry? Three days ago, a downpour and rain was breaking loose, sweeping everything away, snatching the table of the farmers from the very mouth, so to speak, laying low the heavy-eared corn, and rotting away all other things by the greed of the saturated substance. There were litanies and supplications, and our whole city like a torrent ran to the regions of the apostles; and we took as advocates the holy Peter and the blessed Andrew, that pair of the apostles, Paul and Timothy. After those events, the anger having been assuaged, and having crossed the sea and dared the waves, we run to the leaders, to Peter, the foundation of the faith, to Paul, the vessel of election, celebrating a spiritual festival and proclaiming their contests, their trophies, and their victories against the demons. And being neither dismayed by the fear of what was happening, nor instructed by the magnitude of the apostolic achievements, you leap and shout thus suddenly, in the space of a single day, looking on while your own soul is dragged off captive by the passions? But if you wished to see a race of irrational creatures, why did you not yoke the irrational passions within you—anger and desire—and lay upon them the yoke of philosophy, that easy and light one, and set over them right reason, and drive toward the prize of the upward calling, running not from filth to filth, but from earth to heaven? For this kind of horse-racing has much profit along with the pleasure. But leaving your own affairs to be carried along—simply and as it fell out—you sat as a spectator for the victory of others, wasting such a day in vain and to no purpose and to your own harm.

2. Or do you not know that just as we, when handing over money to our servants, demand an accounting from them even to a single obol, so too God will demand from us an account of the days of our life: how we spent each day? What then shall we say? What defense shall we make when we are asked for an account of that day? The sun rose for your sake, and the moon illuminated the night, and a varied chorus of stars shone forth; winds blew for your sake, rivers ran; seeds sprouted for your sake, and plants were brought forth, and the course of nature kept its proper order, and the day appeared and night passed; and all these things happened for your sake. And you, with creation serving you, satisfy the desire of the devil? And having hired from God such a home—I mean this world—you have not paid the rent. And it was not enough for you on the first day, but on the second as well, when you ought to have rested a little from the wickedness that was happening, you went up to the theaters again, running from smoke into fire, having cast yourself into another more grievous pit. Old men disgraced their grey hairs, and young men cast down their youth, and fathers brought their children along, ushering the inexperienced age from the very beginning into the pits of wickedness, so that one would not be wrong to call such men child-murderers rather than fathers, destroying the soul of those they begot by their wickedness. And what wickedness? you say. For this very reason I am pained: because even when sick, you do not know that you are sick, so that you might also seek out the physician. You have become filled with adultery, and do you ask, what wickedness? Have you not heard Christ saying: “Whoever looks at a woman to lust after her, has already committed adultery with her” (Matt. 5:28)? What then, if I do not look to lust? you say. And how will you be able to persuade me? For he who cannot control the act of looking, but exerts such zeal for this thing, how will you be able to remain unstained after the looking? For is your body a stone? Is it iron? You are clothed in flesh, human flesh, which catches fire more easily than grass. And why do I mention the theater? In the marketplace, we are often troubled if we encounter a woman; but you, sitting on high, where there is such incitement to indecency, seeing a prostitute woman with head bare entering with much shamelessness, clothed in golden garments, luxuriating, softening herself, singing lascivious songs, with broken rhythms, uttering shameful words, behaving indecently in such ways that even the one who sees them would take them into his mind—you stoop down and dare to say that you suffer nothing human? For is your body a stone? Is it iron? For I will not refrain from saying the same things again. For are you more philosophical than those great and noble men who were brought down by a mere look? Have you not heard what Solomon says: “Will anyone walk on live coals, and not burn his feet? Shall a man bind fire in his bosom, and not burn his garments?” (Prov. 6:28, 27). So it is for him who enters in to the wife of another. For even if you have not intertwined yourself with the prostitute, but with desire...

you have been joined to her, you have committed the sin in your mind. And not only at that time, but even when the theater is broken up and she has departed, her image remains in your soul—the words, the postures, the looks, the gait, the rhythm, the distinction, the lewd limbs, ^A and you depart having received ten thousand wounds: are there not from this source the subversions of homes? Are there not from this source the destruction of chastity? Are there not from this source the divorces of marriages? Are there not from this source wars and fights? Are there not from this source troubles having no reason? For when you are filled with this and depart, having become a captive, your wife appears more disagreeable and misshapen, your children more burdensome, your servants annoying, the house a nuisance, and habitual duties seem troublesome for the conduct of necessary matters, and everyone approaching you is burdensome and annoying.

^B 3°. But the cause is not that you alone have the prostitute within yourself, which would be more manifest and clear, and which would be lighter—for the wife would have quickly driven her out—but the resolve itself is fixed in the conscience, causing the Babylonian furnace to burn within—or rather, a much more grievous one. For it is not tow, and naphtha, and pitch, but the things mentioned before that are the fuel for that fire, and they turn everything upside down. And just as those who suffer from fever, having nothing to blame in those serving them, are, by reason of the corruption of the disease, displeased with all, and reject food, and treat their doctors badly, and are angry with their family, and are savage toward those serving them, so do those who are held by this grievous disease have restless eyes, and are always looking at that woman. O wretched plight! A wolf and a lion and the rest of the beasts, when struck by arrows, flee from the hunter, but one who is a man, and rational, when wounded, follows the one who wounded him, so that he receives an arrow much more grievous, and is even pleased in his wound; which is the most bitter of all, ^C and makes the disease incurable. For he who does not hate the ulcer, nor desires to be delivered from it, how will he seek a physician? Therefore I am pained and tormented, because you depart from there having received such great damage, and for the sake of a small pleasure, you endure pain forever. For even before Gehenna and punishment, you exact from yourselves the ultimate penalty here! Tell me, is this not the ultimate punishment, to nourish such a desire, to be burned continually, and to carry about everywhere the furnace of absurd love, and along with this, the accusation of the conscience? How will you approach those holy porches? How will you touch the heavenly table? How will you be about to hear sermons concerning temperance, being full of ulcers and such great wounds and having a mind enslaved to this disease? And what is the need to say other things? From the things now happening among us, one can perceive the pain of the soul. For I see some who, while I speak these things, beat their foreheads, and I have much gratitude to you, that you are a people full of compassion. Yet I think that perhaps many of those who have committed no sin do this, grieving over the wounds of their brothers. Therefore I am pained and tormented that the devil destroys such a flock. But if you are willing, we shall quickly obstruct his entry. How and in what way? If we see those who are sick in good health, if we go around spreading the nets of doctrine, seeking those who have been caught by the wild beasts, and snatch them from the very jaws of the lion. For do not say to me, “There are few who have been led astray.” Even if there were only ten, the loss is not small; even if five, or two, or one. ^D Since even that shepherd, having left the ninety-nine sheep, ran after the one, and did not return until he brought it back, and filled out the hundred sheep by the recovery of the one that had erred (Matt. XVIII, 12). Do not say that it is one alone, but reflect that it is a soul for the sake of which all visible things were made, for the sake of which laws, punishments, statutes, and ten thousand miracles have been performed, and the various dispensations of God; for the sake of which He did not even spare His Only-Begotten. Reflect how great a price was paid for one, and do not despise its salvation, but going away, bring it back to us, persuade it no longer to fall into the same state, and we have a sufficient defense. But if he will not endure us who are counseling him, nor you who are exhorting him, I shall finally use the authority which God has given us, not for destruction, but for edification. If anyone, after this exhortation and teaching, shall lapse into the lawless ruin of the theaters, I will not receive him inside these boundaries, I will not administer the mysteries to him, I will not permit him to touch the holy table; but just as shepherds sequester from the healthy those sheep that are full of mange, lest they communicate the disease to the rest, so I shall do. For if long ago the leper was ordered to sit outside the camp, and even if he were a king, he was cast out with his diadem, much more shall we cast out of the holy camp him who has his soul leprous. For since I used exhortation and admonition at the beginning, so now after such a long time, there is a necessity at last to apply the excision. For I have been walking among you for a year, and often and repeatedly have I spoken these things to you. 277 Since, therefore, some have persisted in the rot.

as a leper is cast out from this sacred camp. For just as I first used exhortation and counsel, so now, after so much admonition and doctrine, it is necessary to apply the incision at last. The year has finally passed ^A since I was brought to your city, and I have not ceased to frequently exhort you regarding this matter. Since, therefore, some have remained in this moral filth, come, let me apply the incision. For if I do not have a blade, I have a word sharper than steel; though I do not carry fire, I possess a doctrine hotter than fire, capable of burning even more intensely. Do not then despise our judgment. For if we are cheap and altogether wretched, yet we have been entrusted with a dignity from the grace of God that is able to accomplish these things. Let such men, therefore, be cast out, so that those who are healthy may become healthier among us, and those who are ill may reclaim themselves from their grievous malady. But if you have shuddered hearing this sentence (and indeed I see everyone looking gloomy and downcast), let them change their ways, and the judgment is dissolved. For just as we have received the authority to bind, so have we also to loose, and to impose it again. For we do not wish to cut off our brothers, but to repel the disgrace of the Church. For now, even the Gentiles laugh at us, and the Jews will mock us, when we thus overlook ourselves as we sin. But then even they will greatly praise us, and will admire the Church, having been put to shame by our laws. Let no one, therefore, of those who persist in the same fornication enter the church; rather, let him be rebuked even by you, and let him be a common enemy. For if anyone, he says, does not obey our word by this letter, mark that man, and do not associate with him (2 Thess. 3:14). Do this, moreover: do not grant him speech, do not receive him into your house, do not share a table with him, do not let him enter or leave, do not meet him in the marketplace; and thus we will easily reclaim them. And just as hunters do not drive the beasts that are difficult to catch from one side only, but from every side, casting them into the net, so let us drive those who have turned into beasts, and quickly cast them into the nets of salvation, we from this side, you from that side. In order, therefore, that this may happen, join us in being indignant—or rather, be pained on behalf of the laws of God, and little by little turn away from those brothers of yours who are sick with such things and are breaking the law, so that you may have them permanently. For it is no small judgment for you if you overlook such a ruin; rather, you will have the greatest punishment. For if, in the houses of men, anyone is caught stealing silver or gold from the servants, not only is the one caught punished, but also those who were aware of it and did not report it; much more so in the Church. For God will say to you then: "Seeing that from my house not silver or a gold vessel was stolen, but temperance was plundered, and that he who took it had been partaker of the precious body and such a sacrifice, and had gone off into the place of the devil ^B and had sinned in such a way, why did you keep silent? Why did you endure it? Why did you not report it to the priest?" And you will be required to give no small account. For this reason I too, although I am about to cause pain, will spare none of the more burdensome things. For it is much better that we be pained here and be rescued from the judgment to come, than that, by being granted easy words, we be punished with you then. For it is neither safe for us, nor without danger, to bear such things in silence. For each one of you will give an account for himself; but I am responsible for the salvation of all. Because of this, therefore, I will not cease doing and saying everything, even if it is necessary to cause pain, even if it is necessary to appear burdensome, even if weight, that I may be able to stand at that fearful tribunal, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing. May it come to pass, through the prayers of the saints, that those who have already been corrupted quickly return, and that those who have remained unharmed progress further in decorum and temperance; so that you may be saved, and we may rejoice, and God may be glorified now and always, and unto the endless ages of ages. Amen.

TO THE FOLLOWING HOMILY

In the beginning, and especially at the end of the homily, he says: "Since, however, I have often been afflicted by illness, it is not so easy to note when these things happen, nor can we say whether this speech was delivered at Antioch or at Constantinople." Chrysostom himself, however, seems to profess it was delivered at Antioch, in the very beginning of the homily, where he speaks of his instruction.