Selections from Various Homilies

OF OUR HOLY FATHER JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, SELECTIONS FROM VARIOUS DISCOURSES. HOMILY I. On Love.

^A God, who loves mankind, wishing to bind all men to one another, O beloved, imposed such a necessity upon affairs that the interest of one is bound up in the interest of one's neighbor. For the farmer does not sow as much wheat as would suffice for himself alone, since long ago he would have destroyed both himself and others; nor does the soldier array himself for dangers merely to save himself, but to secure the safety of the cities as well; nor does the merchant bring back only as much as would be enough for him alone, but enough for many others, too. For since, otherwise, men would not have been willing to seek the things of their neighbor unless He had established this necessity, for this reason God has thus joined them together, and He does not allow them to reach their own advantage without first having walked through the advantages of others. For it is not even possible to be saved unless one possesses this; but even if you practice the highest philosophy, but neglect the others who are perishing, you will possess no boldness before God. For if I distribute all my goods, says the divine Apostle, and deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I am nothing profited.

^B But if you wish to learn what a powerful weapon it is to win over one's brothers, even if some be unbelievers, and to provide a gentle, mild, and sweet manner, hear what this very blessed Paul says, when entering before an unbelieving judge to be judged: "I think myself happy, being about to be judged before thee." He said these things not to flatter him—far be it—but wishing to gain him through his gentleness. And so, he did gain him in part; and he who was thought to be a convict addressed the judge, and the one who had been bested confesses his own victory with a clear voice in the presence of all, saying: "In a little thou persuadest me to become a Christian." What then [did] Paul [say]? "I would pray to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, might become such as I am." Since he, therefore, requires such a measure, and we do not even provide the lesser, of what forgiveness shall we be worthy? And do not consider it something shameful to have need of another; for this has become the work of the unspeakable wisdom of God. For if we have need of one another, and still the necessity of need does not bring us into friendship, if we were self-sufficient, would we not be untamable beasts? By force and necessity God has subjected us to one another, and we ^C are brought together with one another every day; if one were to take away this bridle, who would quickly fall in love with the friendship of his neighbor? For because of this, He gave us the world as one house ^D

and lit one lamp for all, the sun, and stretched out one roof, the heaven, and set one table, the earth. And He did not grant more and more precious things to the rich man, and cheaper and less to the poor, so that we might have a great and indivisible unity with one another, and no one could say: "This person is not my friend, nor a kinsman, nor a neighbor, nor do I have anything in common with him; how shall I approach him? How shall I speak with him?" We ought not to have our kinship with one another simply to the extent that it is necessary for friends to show towards friends, but to the extent that it is for a member towards a member. And just as you could not say, "Whence have I kinship and proximity to it [the member]?"—for this is ridiculous—so you cannot say this about a brother either. For if he is not even a kinsman or a friend, yet he is a man, sharing the same nature as you, having the same Master, and born in the same world. For in the case of money, we praise those who owe nothing; but in the case of love, we accept and admire those who are perpetually in debt to one another. Let us be persuaded, therefore, and bind ourselves to one another; and even if someone wants to break away, do not you break off, nor utter that cold saying: "If he loves me, I love him; but if he does not love me, I pluck it out like a right eye." ^A Rather, when he does not want to love you, then show even greater love, so that you may draw him in; for indeed, he is a member. And when a member is severed from the rest of the body by some necessity, we do everything to unite it again, and we show greater care then. For the reward is greater when you draw in one who does not wish to love. And if, for a dinner, He commands us to call those who cannot pay us back, so that the reward may be increased, much more must we do this in the case of friendship. For he who is loved and loves pays you back the remuneration; but he who is loved and does not love has made God a debtor to you in his place. And besides these things, when he loves you, he does not require much effort; but when he does not love, then he has need of your assistance. Do not, therefore, make the cause of the effort a cause of sloth, nor say, "Since he is sick, I am negligent of him"—for the chilling of love is a disease; but you, warm up the chilled one. For the desire to be loved deeply comes from loving deeply. For when we are not deeply disposed towards someone, we do not require a deep friendship from him, even if he be great or illustrious; but when we love someone warmly and genuinely, even if the person loved be base or small, we consider the affection from him to be the greatest glory. If you do not know how to treat a brother, when will you be able to treat a stranger well? If you do not know how to handle your own member, when will you be able to draw in one from outside and bind him to yourself? Do you wish not to be spoken of ill? Then do not speak ill. Do you desire to be praised? Then praise others. Do you wish to be shown mercy? Then show mercy. Do you wish to obtain pardon? Then share it. Do you wish not to be defrauded? Then do not plunder. Let us be regarding our neighbors just as we wish them to be regarding us. For just as a soul without a body is not called a man, nor again is a body without a soul, so neither is love toward God, if it does not have as its follower love toward the neighbor. Do you wish to do charity to such and such a person? I do not forbid it, but not ^B

Homily I

effect that charity can produce. Why then do we not acquire this capacity for charity for ourselves and place ourselves in safety? How long do we restrict it to one or two? For even if a man is otherwise poor, if he has friends, he is far wealthier than the rich. For what he does not presume to say for himself, his friend will say for him; and what he cannot provide for himself, he provides through another. It is impossible for anything adverse to happen to one who is guarded by so many attendants, for the king’s bodyguards are not as sincere and faithful as these are. Indeed, those provide protection out of compulsion and fear; these, however, out of benevolence and love. And while the king fears his guards, the friend trusts his friends more than he trusts himself. And besides, who is as firm, as fortified by the joining of such great stones and as impregnable a wall against the incursions of enemies, as a gathering of those who follow one another with mutual love and are bound together in concord? For this even repels the insults of the devil, and deservedly so. For those who associate and align themselves with one another against him become insuperable to his machinations and raise up the illustrious trophies of charity. And just as the strings of a lyre, although many, look to one harmony and sound the sweetest strain, so those who are united in one will yield the tuneful sound of charity. For nothing can be sweeter than love. What, then, could a sincere friend not provide? What pleasure, what advantage, what security could he not bring? Even if you speak of six hundred treasures, nothing is to be compared with a sincere friend. And just as shining bodies emit their color upon neighboring places, so also friends, wherever they arrive, scatter their own benevolence, as it were. ^B It is better, therefore, to live in darkness than to lack friends. For fever is not so accustomed to consume the nature of bodies as is the absence of those whom we love. Such is the nature of the love of charity that it keeps those who are not present with us, but divided, ever before our minds; it turns the heart of the lover away from all who are present and unites it with the one desired. If a person, when he sees the beloved, or even when he remembers him, is uplifted in spirit and sublime of mind, and bears all things lightly, gladdened by this recollection, will he ever feel anything sad, or dread anything formidable and dangerous—he who is mindful of Him who has deigned to love us? Never, certainly. For if, when we are loved by powerful men, we are terrible and formidable to all, much more so are we if we are loved by God. Although, therefore, it may be necessary to spend wealth, or the body, or the soul itself for this charity, let us not be sparing. For it does not suffice that we say with words that we love; rather, it behooves us to demonstrate this by deeds themselves, since He has shown His charity toward us not merely by words, but by deeds themselves. For if, in the house of the powerful, a servant, when he has properly cared for the affairs of his master, has not done his own things, but has made his master's things his own, and uses his master's possessions just as if they were his own, and if many of the household servants fear him more than the master, and because he despised his own business, he has not really despised his own but has attained greater things—much more will this be true in spiritual matters. Let us not, therefore, look after our own affairs, but let us despise them so that we may possess them. For if we count them as nothing, God will care for them; but if we care for them ourselves, God will despise them. If, therefore, anyone wishes to love sincerely and to know the power of charity, let him run to the disciple of this, I mean the blessed Paul, and he will teach him how great is the labor, and what kind of spirit is required, to endure the separation of a loved one. For this man—I say, this man who, as if stripped of flesh and having laid aside the body, traversed the whole world with a soul nearly bare, having eliminated every perturbation of soul, imitating the nature of incorporeal powers, who was free from sorrows—bore all other things easily, just as if he were suffering imprisonment and chains and exiles and scourges and threats and death and every kind of punishment in another’s body. Yet, separated from one soul dear to him, he was so confused and troubled that, not having found the person there where he had hoped to see the beloved, he immediately leapt forth from the city. ^C What is this, O blessed Paul? You, indeed, bound in shackles and placed in prison, and enduring the scourges laid upon you, and having your shoulders covered in blood—you were teaching the mysteries, initiating with the holy baptism, and offering sacrifice, nor did you despise a single soul to be saved; but having set out to Troas, when you had found the land purged and prepared to receive the seeds, you thus abandoned such a shining gain from your hands.

^A neither the length of the road, nor the multitude of days, nor the press of affairs, nor the danger and the recurring hardships, nor anything else, could cast out the love or the memory of his disciples, but he held them all in his mind. And his hands were not so bound by his chains as his soul was bound and attached by longing for his disciples. And just as a king who has ascended the throne at dawn, and sitting in the royal halls, receives countless letters from everywhere at once; so too did he, while sitting in the prison as if in royal halls, receive and send forth letters constantly, for those from everywhere were referring all their own affairs to his wisdom. And he was managing so many more of the king’s affairs, in proportion as he had been entrusted with a greater authority. ^B For such is the power of love, that it embraces, joins together, and binds not only those who are present and near to us and within our sight, but even those who are far away. And neither a multitude of years, nor the distance of the roads, nor anything else of that kind, could ever sever or divide the friendship of the soul. For one ought to love the one who loves him in such a way that, even if he should ask for one's soul, and it were possible, one would not deny it; for nothing is equal to a genuine friend. For the one who loves is delighted when he sees the one he loves, and he is melted, and he is entwined together with him in a manner that the soul possesses as having an ineffable pleasure. ^C And if he should only think of him, he arises in his mind and takes wing, and though he sees him every day, he is not sated; there is nothing he has that is not the other’s; he prays for the same things for him as for himself. I know someone who, when he was imploring the holy ones for a friend, would ask them to pray for his friend first, and then for himself. I know, too, that Paul gladly gave his own soul even without being asked, and prayed to fall into hell for the sake of those he loved. For so one should love with a soul set on fire, so as not to seem to have the one he loves as a debtor, but to be the debtor himself in having him as a debtor. For he who loves does not wish only to command, but also to be commanded; he rejoices more in being commanded than in commanding. He who loves wishes to bestow gifts rather than receive favor; for he wishes to have his friend as a debtor, rather than to be in debt to him himself. He who loves wishes to bestow a favor upon the one he loves, and does not wish to appear to be bestowing a favor; he wishes to be the initiator of a kindness, and not look as if he were initiating a kindness. And do not think of simple friends, those who are table-companions, and who are considered friends only by name; if anyone wishes to be a friend, such as I say, he will recognize these words. Nothing is sweeter than a friend in the present life. ^D Many, at any rate, after the death of their friends, have prayed that they should not live any longer; for truly a friend is more desirable even than this light. For it would be better for us for the sun to be extinguished than to be deprived of our friends; for many, while seeing the sun, are in darkness; but those who are well-supplied with friends would never be in affliction. And if the friendship of anyone harms you, cut it off. For if we often amputate those of our limbs which are beyond healing and which cause damage to the rest, how much more must one do this in the case of the soul. For nothing is so harmful as a wicked association; for what necessity cannot do, friendship can often do, for either harm or benefit. And he who forms a friendship with the enemies of the king cannot be a friend of the king. For compared to the friendship that is for the sake of Christ, the hatred that is for His sake is far better. For when we are loved for the sake of God, we are debtors to Him for the honor; but when we are hated, He Himself is our debtor for the honor. Since, therefore, we do not disdain even money for the sake of Christ, or rather for our own sake, let us tremble, taking to mind the love of Paul for Christ. For he did not even love Christ for the sake of Christ’s gifts, but for Him he loved all that was His, and he feared only one thing: to fall away from the love he had for Him. For this was more fearful to him even than hell; just as remaining in Him was more desirable than the kingdom. Therefore, since he would consent to fall into hell and fall from the kingdom for the sake of the longing for God—if indeed both these things were set before us—and we do not disdain even the present life, are we at all worthy of his shoes, being so far removed from his magnanimity? Because of this, Christ also said: "Whoever loses his soul for My sake will find it"; and, "Whoever shall confess Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven." For the struggle of this achievement is great, and it almost surpasses nature itself; and those who have been accounted worthy of these crowns know this well; for no speech would be able to portray it; so brave is the thing of the soul, and something beyond measure wonderful. But yet, Paul said that this wonderful thing benefits nothing without love, even if one has poverty conjoined to it. Why, then, has he spoken in this way? I will now try to show this, having first inquired into how he who gives away all his possessions as food can be without love. For it is perhaps possible for one who is ready to be burned, and who has the gifts, not to love; but how does he who not only gives away his possessions, but even spends them as food, not love? What, then, is to be said? Perhaps that he posited the non-existent as if it were existent, which he always likes to do, when he wishes to demonstrate an excess; as when he writes to the Galatians and says: "If we or an angel from heaven should preach to you, besides what you have received, let him be anathema," even though

neither he himself nor an angel was about to do this. But he set it down ^A to show the excess of the matter, and that what would never be at all. And again, when he writes to the Romans and says: "Neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers shall be able to separate us from the love of Christ"—for neither were these things about to be done by angels; but here too he sets down what is not, ^B so that he might show the excess of his desire. And he does the same here as well, saying that even if one should give all things, if he does not have love, he profits nothing. ^C Or this is what he wants to say, namely, that he wishes those who give to be knit together with those who receive, and not to donate simply without affection, but that they be softened and mitigated by mercy and by sympathy, and act with fellow-feeling toward those in need. For this is why almsgiving was ordained by God as a law, ^D and indeed God could have sustained the poor even without this; but he commanded that they be fed by us, so that he might bind us together in love, and so that we might glow with warmth toward one another. Therefore, also in another place he says: "Better is a good word than a gift: and lo, a word is better than a good gift" (Eccli. XVIII, 16. 17). And he himself says: "I desire mercy, and not sacrifice" (Osee VI, 6). Since it is the custom to love those who have conferred benefits, and for those who have received benefits to be more kindly disposed toward those who conferred them, he established this as a bond of friendship, and confirmed it by law. And that you may learn what a great achievement this is, let us depict it with words, since we do not see it appearing anywhere in the actual facts, and let us consider, if it were everywhere in abundance, how great would be the goods that would come of it. For there would be no need of laws, nor of any prisons, nor of punishments, nor of tortures, nor of any such thing. For if all were loving and were loved, no one would do an injury to another; but murders and fights and wars and factions and greed and the plunder of goods and every evil of that kind would be removed from our midst, and wickedness would be known only by its name. ^A Yet truly, miracles do not bring this about, but rather they puff up the unwary with vainglory and arrogance. And what is entirely astounding in love is that while all other good things have evils conjoined to them—for instance, when someone is poor, he is not rarely puffed up by this very fact; if someone is skilled in speech, he labors with the insane desire for glory; the humble person, indeed, frequently prides himself in his own conscience because of this very thing—but love is free and immune from every corruption of this kind; for never would anyone feel pride against another because of it. ^B And do not propose to me just one person who is loving, but all men indiscriminately, and then you shall discern the virtue of love. Nay, if it pleases you, first imagine one who is loved, and one who loves—the one, I mean, who loves just as he ought. For such a man will inhabit the earth no differently than heaven itself, clearly enjoying tranquility everywhere, and weaving for himself countless crowns. For such a man will keep his own soul immune from envy, from anger and malice and arrogance, from vainglory and foolish desire, and from every foul love, and from every vice. ^C For just as no one would cause himself harm, so neither would such a man his neighbors. And such a one as this, while walking on earth, will be with Gabriel himself. And such is he who has love. But he who performs miracles and possesses complete knowledge, without love—even if he should raise countless dead—it will profit him nothing, since he is separated from all, and does not endure to mingle himself with any of his fellow-servants. ^D For this reason, also, Christ the Lord asserted that the sign of sincere love toward himself is to love one's neighbor: for he says, "If you love me more than these, Peter, feed my sheep" (John XXI, 15). You see how hence, again, he hinted that love is greater than martyrdom? For indeed, if someone had a son who was very dear, for whom he would even pour out his life, and afterward someone were to love the father, but were to have absolutely no regard for the son, he would vehemently provoke the father, as one who did not acknowledge his own love due to a contempt for the son. But if this is accustomed to happen in the case of a father and son, how much more so in the case of God and men; for God is more loving of his children than any fathers. And for this reason, when he had said: "The first and greatest commandment is, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God," he subjoined, "The second," and he did not keep silent, but added, being equal to it: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Matt. XXII, 37. 39). And see how with almost the same excess he demands and requires it: for concerning God he says, "With all thy heart"; concerning thy neighbor, "As thyself," which is the same as "with all thy heart." For even if someone were a slave, were he free, ruler or subject, rich or poor, small or great, never once was any devil ever known—I do not mean this one, but if even another such were found, or rather, if there were a hundred and ten thousand such, they would have no strength if that love existed. Rather, grass brought a provocation of fire, than love brings the devil. This is stronger than walls, this is stronger than adamant; and even if you had something stronger than

^A all this, the firmness of love surpasses all. Neither wealth nor poverty overcomes this; nay, not even if there were poverty, nor the immoderation of wealth, if love were present, but only the goods from each—for we would have enjoyed the abundance from the latter, and the freedom from care from the former—and we would not have endured the anxieties of wealth nor the fear of poverty. And what do I say, the gains from it? Consider how great the very act of loving is in itself, how much joy it brings, in what grace it settles the soul—which is most excellent among its properties. For the other parts of virtue have labor joined to them; for instance, fasting, temperance, watchfulness, envy, desire, arrogance; but love, along with the gain, has much pleasure and no labor at all. And like a good bee, gathering goods from everywhere, it stores them in the soul of the one who loves. Even if one is a slave, it renders slavery sweeter than freedom. For he who loves does not find so much joy in commanding as in being commanded; yet even command is pleasant; but this love changes the nature of things, and having all goods in its hands, it arrives, kinder than any mother, wealthier than any queen, and makes painful things very easy and simple, showing virtue to be easy and vice most bitter to us.

Observe: spending seems to be a painful thing, and love makes it pleasant; taking what belongs to others is [supposedly] pleasant, and love does not permit it to appear pleasant, but causes one to flee from it as wicked. Again, speaking evil seems sweet to all; love shows this to be bitter, but speaking well to be sweet; for nothing is so sweet to us as to praise the one we love. Again, anger has a certain pleasure; but here it is no longer so, but all its nerves are removed; for even if the one loved should grieve the one who loves, anger nowhere appears, but tears and pleas and supplications—so far is it from being provoked. And if it sees him sinning, it grieves and laments; but even this grief brings pleasure; for of love, even the tears and sorrow are sweeter than any laughter and joy. At least, those who are laughing are not as refreshed as those weeping for their friends; and if you disbelieve, stop their tears, and you will see how they are distressed ^B as if they had suffered the irreparable. But, you say, there is a strange pleasure in loving erroneously! Away with such talk, man, and use words of good omen; for nothing is so pure from such pleasure as genuine love. Do not tell me of that common and vulgar sort, which is rather mist than love, but [rather] of this one, which Paul seeks, which considers the advantage of those beloved; and you will see that these are more affectionate than parents. And just as those who love money would not choose to spend money, but would rather be in distress than see it diminished, so also he who is pleasantly disposed toward someone would choose to suffer ten thousand things rather than see the beloved one harmed.

What then, one says, if they are enemies and Gentiles, must we not hate [them]? We must indeed hate, but not them, rather the doctrine; not the man, but the wicked practice, the corrupted judgment. For the man is a work of God, but the error is a work of the devil. If indeed it is necessary to hate the enemies of God, not only are we to hate the impious, but also sinners, and thus we shall be worse than wild beasts, turning away from everyone and puffing ourselves up with arrogance, just like that Pharisee. But Paul did not command this, but how? "Admonish the disorderly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be longsuffering toward all" (1 Thess. 5.14). What then, when he says, "If anyone does not obey our word by the letter, mark this one, and do not associate with him" (2 Thess. 3.14)? Most certainly this is spoken concerning brothers; yet not even this simply, but this too with gentleness. For do not cut off what follows, but add what comes after; for having said, "Do not associate," he added, "And do not regard him as an enemy, but admonish him as a brother" (lb. v. 15). ^C Do you see how he commanded to hate the evil work, not the man? For it is indeed the work of the devil to tear us away from one another; and he has striven greatly to destroy love, so that he might cut off the way of correction, and hold that man in error, and you in disbelief and hostility, and then thus wall off the way of his salvation. For when the physician also hates the patient and flees, and the patient turns away from the physician, when will the sick one rise, when neither the one calls him, nor the other comes to him? For what reason do you also turn away and flee from him? Because he is impious? Therefore, for this reason you ought to approach and treat him, so that you may raise up the one who is ill. But if he is incurably ill, yet you were commanded to do your own part; since even Judas was incurably ill, and yet God did not cease from treating him. Do not, therefore, you yourself grow weary; for even if, having striven much, you do not deliver him from impiety, you shall receive the reward of the one who did deliver him, and you will cause him to admire your gentleness; and thus, toward ^D your God, the glory will redound. For even if you work miracles, even if you raise the dead, even if you do anything else whatever, you never

as if seeing the gentle and mild, and the sweet. And this is not a small achievement; for many will be turned completely away from evil. For nothing is so able to draw men as love. In those things, I say, the signs and the miracles, men will pursue you with envy; but in the duty of love, they will both watch you and embrace you with affection, and while they love, they will also, by advancing, cling to the truth. But if one does not immediately become a believer, do not marvel, and do not compel, and do not require everything at once, but allow him meanwhile to praise, to love, and by progressing little by little, he will arrive. Since, therefore, love is the artificer of virtues, let us study with all diligence to implant it in our souls, so that it may bring us many good things, and that we may have the overflowing fruit of it, which is continually blooming and never withering. For in this way we shall also attain to eternal goods: which may it grant us all to obtain, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy and good Spirit, be glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY II

^A Great is the good of prayer, if it is done with a thankful mind, and if we train ourselves not merely to take, but also, when we do not receive, to give thanks to God. For He sometimes gives, and sometimes does not give, and both profitably; so that whether you receive or do not receive, you have yet received, in that you did not receive; and whether you obtain or do not obtain, you have still obtained, in that you did not obtain. For sometimes it is more profitable not to receive. For ^B if He did not often profit us by not having us attain what is set before us, He would give us everything; but it is profitable to have been frustrated, and this is having obtained. Moreover, let us not take it amiss that the things we seek are given more slowly, but for this very reason let us show great tolerance and equanimity. For could not God have given to us even before we asked? But for this reason He waits, so that He may receive an opportunity from us to justly deem us worthy of His providence. Therefore, whether we attain the things requested, or do not attain them, let us persevere in prayer; and not only when we obtain, let us give thanks, but also when we do not obtain. For to be frustrated, when God so wills, is no worse than to have attained something; for we do not know what is beneficial to us, as He knows. Wherefore, ^C whether we attain something or do not attain it, we ought to give thanks, and receive with joy those things which are pleasing to Him. For God does not delay as if rejecting our prayers, but wisely seeking our perseverance, and wishing to draw us to Himself. Since even a kind father with his children often, when asked by his son, does not grant the request: not wishing to deny it, but by this means eliciting the son’s perseverance. For that a person praying be heard arises, first, from the fact that one is worthy to receive; second, that one acts according to God's laws; third, that one prays frequently; fourth, that one prays assiduously and asks for nothing temporal; ^D fifth, that one seeks useful things. Therefore, just as from these things it comes about that prayers are heard, so from the opposite it comes about that they are not heard, even if those who ask are righteous. For who was more righteous than Paul? Yet because he was asking for things that were not useful, he was not heard; "For which thing," he says, "I besought the Lord thrice; and He said to me, My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Cor. 12:8, 9). And what is more righteous than Moses? But neither was he heard, God saying to him, "Let it suffice you" (Deut. 3:26). For when he asked to enter into the land of promise, and this was not expedient, God did not permit it. Besides these things, there is also something else that causes prayers not to be heard: if, namely, we pray while remaining in our sins. Which God was saying concerning the Jews also to Jeremiah: "Do not pray for this people: do you not see what they are doing?" (Jer. 7:16, 17). They did not refrain, He says, from impiety, and do you offer prayers for them? But I will not hear you. Again, if we pray against our enemies, we are not only not heard, but we even irritate God. For prayer is a medicine; but if we are ignorant of how to apply the medicine, we will never perceive its power. So great, therefore, is the perseverance of prayer, as we learn from that Canaanite woman: since what Christ did not grant to the apostles asking, she herself accomplished and brought to pass by her own tolerance. For He wishes to be asked for our own transgressions by us, who are the guilty ones, rather than by others for us. For when we supplicate men, we have need of the expenditure of money, and servile adulation, and much circumlocution and intercession: for lords are often not accustomed to confer a benefit or speak immediately; but it is necessary first to win over their servants and managers of their affairs, and stewards, with money and words and every manner of means, so that then one may be able to receive what is requested. But with God it is not so; for He has no need of mediators when He is asked, nor is He more inclined to kindness when asked through others than if we should ask by ourselves. For God frequently wishes that we should ask from Him, and He considers it a great favor on our part. For this one alone is a debtor who, when something is demanded of him, considers it a favor, and provides what we did not even lend. And if He sees the one demanding vehemently urging Him, He even pays what He did not receive from us; but if one acts sluggishly, even He Himself delays, not indeed because He is unwilling to give, but because it is pleasing to Him to be asked by us. For He does not delay to give what is asked out of some hatred or by averting Himself from us; but by delaying He wishes to keep us assiduously with Himself. Just as even fathers who love their children cause them to hold fast: for they exercise the sluggish perseverance of their children by this very procrastination of the gift.

^A You have done what is requested. Are you not heard? Then persevere so that you may be heard. You have no need of intermediaries, nor of much wandering about, nor of flattering others; but even if you are deserted, even if you are without a patron, if you yourself pray to God you will certainly attain your goal. For if among men, even though we have offended them ten thousand times, when we appear before those who have been hurt by us at dawn, at midday, and in the evening, we easily dissolve their hostility by the constancy and continuous meeting of our gaze, how much more would this happen with God? For He is not accustomed to incline towards us when entreated through others as He is through us ourselves who are in need, even if we are full of ten thousand evils.

Let those who pray with sluggishness, and who are distressed by the delay of the gift, listen. For when I say, "Entreat God, pray to Him, supplicate Him," one might say: "I prayed once, a second, a third, a tenth, a twentieth time, and I did not receive." Do not depart until you receive; depart only when you have received; or rather, not even then, but even then remain; and if you do not receive, pray that you may receive; and when you have received, give thanks that you have received. Many enter into the church, they finish ten thousand lines of prayer, and go out, and they do not know what they have said: the lips move, but the ear does not hear. You do not hear your own prayer, and you wish for God to hear it? You say, "I bent my knees." But your mind was flying outside; the body was inside, but your intention was outside; your mouth was saying the prayer, and your mind was counting interest, deeds, contracts, possessions, and the company of friends. For the devil, being wicked, and knowing that we accomplish great things in the time of prayer, then attacks—for often we lie supine on our bed and consider nothing; we have come to pray, and then ten thousand thoughts are introduced—so that he may from those things make us empty and unproductive throughout; and often, having finished the prayer, we depart not even knowing what it is we have said.

If, therefore, we perceive this, let us immediately take it up again, and if we suffer the same thing again, let us say it a third and a fourth time, and let us not depart from praying until we pour it all out before God with a sober mind and an attentive thought. ^B And if the devil perceives that we do not depart before we have spoken it with diligence and a sober mind, he will withdraw for the future, knowing that there will be no further advantage to him from his ambush other than that he forces us to repeat the same prayer many times. For if when we approach a man we display such diligence that we often do not even see those standing near us, but strain our own mind, and imagine only him whom we are approaching, we ought much more to do this with God, and to persevere in prayers, not dragging our thought hither and thither. For if the tongue utters the words, but the mind wanders outside, looking around at things in the house, imagining things in the marketplace, there will be no benefit to us later on, but rather greater condemnation.

For if we spend such a long time attending to men, serving and suffering, ministering in a servile manner, and at the end often falling short even of the expectation itself; for the Master of us all, where it is entirely possible to receive a reward much greater than the effort, do we not endure to wait with the appropriate diligence? And how much punishment are these things worthy of? For if there were nothing to receive, would this very thing of conversing with Him continually not be the cause of ten thousand goods? For prayer is a great good and the conversing with God through it. For if someone conversing with a virtuous man reaps no small benefit from him, how many goods will he enjoy who is deemed worthy to converse with God? How then is it not absurd to command our servants to serve all the time, while we do not allot even the least leisure to God? You do not know what is beneficial, O man; you often ask for things that are harmful and dangerous. But He, caring more for your salvation, does not attend to your request, but before your request provides for what is beneficial for you.

For if earthly fathers do not give everything their children ask for, not because they despise those who ask, but because they care for them all the more; how much more does God, who loves even more, and knows what is beneficial more than all, do this for us? When, therefore, you grow weary of praying and do not receive, consider how many times you have heard a poor person calling you, and you did not heed, and he did not grow indignant, nor did he accuse you; and yet you do this out of cruelty, while God does it out of love for mankind. If, therefore, you, as a fellow servant not listening due to cruelty, do not deem it worthy to be accused, do you accuse the Master of the servant who does not listen due to love for mankind?

If, therefore, the blessed David, being a king and being submerged by ten thousand cares, and being dragged from every side, ^C seven times a day entreated God, what apology or excuse could we have, who enjoy so much leisure, and do not continually supplicate Him, and that too when we are destined to reap such great gain? For it is impossible, impossible for a person praying with the appropriate eagerness and continually entreating God, to ever sin. For he who has warmed his mind, and raised up his soul, and transported himself to heaven, and thus called upon his own Master, and remembered his sins, and conversed with Him concerning the forgiveness of these, and entreated Him to become propitious and gentle, through the activity in these words, lays aside every worldly care, and is winged, and becomes higher than human passions.

For the fountains of waters do not make gardens bloom as much as the springs of tears watering the plant of prayer make it run to the greatest height, and prepare the one praying to stand before the Lord; for from this especially does being heard come about. For if, with the body lying on the earth, and the mouth babbling in vain, the mind wanders everywhere in the house and the marketplace, how will such a one be able to say that he prayed before God? For he prays before the Lord who gathers his soul from everywhere, and has nothing in common with the earth, but has transported himself to the heaven itself, and cast every human thought out of the soul. For thus it is necessary for the one praying to pray, as one having gathered and strained the whole of his own mind, to call upon God with a pained soul, and not to...

extend his words to a great length, nor pour forth long-winded language. For it is not in the multitude of words, but in the sobriety of the mind, that the possibility of being heard lies. And this is to be seen from the prayers of Anna, the mother of Samuel. For she says: *Adonai, Lord God of Sabaoth, if looking down You will look down upon the humility of Your handmaid, and give to Your handmaid seed of man, I will give him before You as a gift, until the day of his death; and wine and strong drink he shall not drink, and iron shall not come up upon his head* (1 Kings 1:11). What a great multitude of words this is! ^A Yet, nevertheless, because she offered this prayer with attention and sobriety, she accomplished everything she wished; she corrected a defective nature, she opened a closed womb, and she brought herself into great boldness of speech, reaping an abundant harvest from a barren rock. Therefore, one praying ought not to extend long speeches, but to pray incessantly. For Christ and Paul gave orders for short and frequent prayers to be sent up, with slight intervals. For if you extend your speech to a great length, you will frequently fall into negligence, and will give the devil much opportunity to creep in, to trip you up, and to lead your mind away from what is being said. But if you send up continuous and frequent prayers, by punctuating the entire time with such frequency, you will be able to easily exhibit modesty, and to perform the prayers themselves with much vigilance. Do you wish to learn the vigilance, the diligence, and the assiduity of prayer? Go to Anna, learn what she did. *They arose,* it says, *all from the table* (Ibid. v. 19), and she did not turn straightway to sleep, nor to rest. Whence it seems to me that even while sitting at the table she was sober, and not weighed down by any foods; for she would not have shed so many tears otherwise. For if we, when we are sober and fasting, scarcely pray even in this manner—or rather, we never pray in this manner—much more would she not have prayed thus after the table, unless she had been like those fasting even at the table. Let us revere, O men, the woman; let us revere, I say, we who yawn while supplicating for a kingdom, whereas she prayed for a child and poured forth tears. ^B And here, too, consider the piety of the woman: *Her voice,* it says, *was not heard, but her lips were moving* (Ibid. v. 13). Thus let him who wishes to obtain something approach God, not listless, not yawning, not failing, nor sluggish or acting negligently. For could not God have given even without prayer? And did He not know the desire of the woman even before her asking? But if He had given before her asking, the zeal of the woman would not have appeared, her virtue would not have been manifest, and she would not have acquired so much recompense therefrom. But let us see her wisdom, too: after Eli the priest thought her intoxicated, see what she says to him: *Do not treat your handmaid as a daughter of a pestilence, for from the multitude of my meditation I have extended my words until now* (1 Kings 1:16). This is truly of a contrite heart, when we are not offended by those who inflict injury upon us, nor are we indignant, but we even excuse ourselves. For nothing makes a heart so wise as tribulation and mourning according to God. We need, therefore, to give thanks to God both when beginning and when finishing the table. For he who is prepared for this will never fall into drunkenness or wine-craving, and will never be burst asunder by gluttony; but having the expectation of prayer imposed upon his senses like a bridle, he will take from all the things set before him with the appropriate modesty, and will fill both his soul and his body with much blessing. For a table that takes its beginning from prayer and ends in prayer will never be wanting, but will bring us all good things more generously than a fountain. Let us not, therefore, pass over so great a benefit. For it is absurd that our servants, if they occasionally receive some portion of what is set before us from us, ^C both give us thanks and depart with a blessing; yet we, enjoying so many good things, do not render to God even so much honor. For this reason, many things occur to us contrary to our expectation, both in public and in private affairs, because we do not exhibit zeal for spiritual things first, and then for secular matters. Do you not know that if you come and worship God, and are a participant in this occupation here, the things that are at hand will be rendered easier for you? But you have secular cares? On account of these at least run hither, so that, having drawn God's benevolence through this exercise, you may go out within, so that you may have Him as your helper, that, being aided by the hand from above, you may become impregnable to the demons. For if you apply spiritual prayers, if you become a participant in common prayer, if you procure the help of God, if you go forth thus fortified by His weapons: then not even the devil himself will be able to look against you, let alone wicked men who study to inflict injury upon you and to slander you. But if, having gone out from your house into the marketplace, you are found naked of such weapons, you will be vulnerable to all who lie in wait. Nor let anyone say to me that it is impossible for a secular man, fixed to the marketplace, to pray continuously throughout the day and to run to the church; for it is possible, and most easily so. For though it is not easy to run to the church, one standing there before the gates, and fixed to the judicial forum, can pray. And many have done this frequently; and while the magistrate inside was shouting, threatening, contending, and raging, those standing before the gates, armed with the sign, and praying with a few words in their mind, entering in, changed him and mitigated him, and rendered him from fierce, gentle, and they were not hindered in this prayer by place, or by time, or by silence. For there is not as much need of voice as of thought; nor of the extension of hands as of the intention of the soul; nor of posture, but of understanding. Since even Anna, the mother of Samuel, not because she uttered a clear and great voice was she heard for this reason, but because she was crying out much within her heart: *Her voice,* it says, *was not heard, and God heard her.* Let us not, therefore, offer excuses, saying that it is not easy for someone busy with secular matters to pray, and not...

having a house of prayer nearby, to find one. For wherever you are, you can set up your altar; for place does not hinder, nor does time impede; but even if you do not bend your knees, even if you do not beat your breast, and do not stretch your hands to heaven, but only show a fervent mind, ^A you have completed the whole of prayer. For it is possible, even when entering the marketplace, and walking by yourself, to offer long and fervent prayers; it is possible, even sitting in a workshop and dying skins, to dedicate your soul to the Master; it is possible for both a servant and a buyer, and for one going up and coming down, and for one standing in the kitchen, when it is not possible to go to church, to offer prayer that is fervent and awake. For God does not despise the place, but seeks only a fervent mind and a sober soul. For Paul also, not in a house of prayer, but lying supine in prison, and not standing upright nor bending his knees—for the stocks to which his feet were bound did not allow it—since he prayed with fervor while lying down, he shook the prison and moved the foundations, and bound the jailer, and led him thereafter to the holy initiation. And Hezekiah, not standing upright nor bending his knees, but lying supine on his bed because of his illness, turned himself toward the wall, since he called upon God fervently and with a sober soul, both recalled the sentence that had been brought forth and drew to himself much favor, and returned to his former health. And the robber crucified on the cross, from a few words obtained the kingdom of heaven; and Jeremiah in the mire and the pit, and Daniel in the pit and with the lions, and Jonah in the very belly of the whale, having called upon God, dissolved all the impending terrors and drew to themselves favor from above. What, therefore, ought you to say when you pray? That which the Canaanite woman did: for as she said, *Have mercy on me, my daughter is grievously vexed by a demon* (Matt. 15:22); so also you say, Have mercy on me, my soul is grievously vexed by a demon. For sin is a great demon: ^B the one who is demon-possessed is pitied, the one who sins is hated. *Have mercy on me.* A short phrase, and a sea of loving-kindness; for where there is mercy, there are all good things. Even if you are outside the church, cry out and say, *Have mercy on me*, even if not moving your lips, but shouting with your mind; for God hears even those who are silent. Place is not sought, but the beginning of a good way of life. Jeremiah was in the mire, and drew God to himself; and Job was on the dunghill, and rendered God propitious; Jonah was in the belly of the whale, and had God being obedient. Even if you are in a bathhouse, pray; wherever you may be, pray. You are a temple, do not seek a place. The sea was in front, the Egyptians behind, and Moses stood in the middle saying nothing; for there is great distress in prayer; and God says to him, *Why do you cry out to me?* (Exod. 14:15). Do you, therefore, when temptation comes upon you, flee to God, call the Master. For is he a man, that you must go to a place? God is always near. *For while you are still speaking,* I shall say, *Behold, I am present* (Isai. 58:9). You do not yet finalize the prayer, and he provides the healing. For if you have a mind cleansed of improper passions, even if you are in the marketplace, even if on the road, even if standing in a court of law, even if at sea, even if in an inn, even if standing in a workshop, even wherever you may be, you will be able, by calling upon God, ^C to obtain your request. For what does the stretching out of hands in prayer signify? They serve for many wicked deeds; and for this reason we are commanded to stretch them out, so that the service of prayer may become a bond for them against wickedness, and a leading away from evil; so that, when you are about to seize, or to overreach, or to strike another, you may remember that you are about to send these as advocates to God, and through them offer that spiritual sacrifice, and that you may not shame them, nor render them without boldness for the service of wicked work. Cleanse them, therefore, with almsgiving, with philanthropy, with the protection of those in need, and thus lead them into prayer. For if you do not grant them to enter into prayer unwashed, much more would it not be just for you to defile them with sins. If you fear the lesser thing, which is to pray with unwashed hands, much more shudder at the greater. For to pray with unwashed hands is indeed not so absurd, but to bring them, having been dirtied with ten thousand sins, this brings great wrath and destruction. Do you wish to learn how great is the power of the prayer that takes place in the church? Peter was once bound, and many chains were round about him, *but prayer was made earnestly by the Church for him* (Act. 12:5); and immediately it delivered him from the prison. What, therefore, could be more powerful than this prayer, which helped the pillar and tower of the Church? ^D And to the catechumens this is not yet permitted, since they have not yet attained this boldness; but to you, it is commanded to offer petitions even for the inhabited world and for the Church extended to the ends of the earth, and for those who govern and oversee it. And obey with fervor, bearing witness by your deeds that great is the power of the prayer in church offered in harmony by the people. For if, in the case of men, when a crowd has approached to plead for condemned men being led to death, the king, moved by shame at the multitude, has reversed his decision, much more will the heavenly King, moved by shame at your request, grant the petition. Have you not heard that Peter was thus snatched from prison, because there was earnest prayer being made for him? How much do you think it is greater than our own smallness to approach and call upon God on behalf of such a multitude? For if I myself do not have the boldness to pray on my own behalf, much less on behalf of others; for this belongs to those who are well-approved. When, therefore, I myself have offended, how shall I pray for another? Requesting on behalf of many, indeed, is very bold and requires much boldness; but for many to have gathered together to offer the petition for one, this will appear in no way burdensome. For to pray, indeed, is possible even at home; but to pray in such a way as in the church is impossible, where such a multitude of fathers is present, where a cry is sent up to God with one accord. God does not listen to you praying by yourself as he does when you pray with your brothers. For here is the greater thing, such as harmony and concord, and the bond of love, and the prayers of the priests. For for this cause the priests are standing by, so that the prayers of the multitude, which are weaker, might be joined to the stronger ones of the

^A priests, and equally with them ascend into heaven. For if the prayer of the Church helped Peter, and brought that pillar out of prison, how do you, I ask, despise its power? For just as the virtue of love is not confined by distance, so neither is the efficacy of prayer; but as the former joins those who are separated from one another, so also the latter is able to help those who are positioned far away to a great extent. For even Moses, although he was not present with those fighting in body, did not contribute less than the combatants, but even much more to that battle, by the extension of his hands lifting up the forces of his own, and making them formidable to the adversaries. For no achievement will have been so great, if it has not also communicated gain to others. For whether you remain fasting, or sleep on the ground, or eat ashes, or mourn continually, and benefit no other, you achieve nothing great. For even by Moses many great miracles and signs were performed; but nothing made him as great as that blessed voice which he sent forth to God, saying: "If you forgive them their sin, forgive; but if not, blot me out also" (Exod. XXXII, 31, 32). And truly David, showing this very thing, was saying: "I the shepherd have sinned, and I have done evil; and these, the flock, what have they done? Let your hand be upon me and upon my father's house" (II Reg. XXI, 17). Great indeed are these things, and worthy of angelic conversation: but the words of Paul far exceed these; for he prayed to fall ^B from the glory of the future for the salvation of others. But Jonah, because he sought his own advantage, even went into danger of his life; and the city indeed was standing, but he himself was being submerged. Great indeed are the other merits of Moses’ virtue; but the highest and the summit of that holy soul, because he chose to be blotted out from the book for the salvation of the Judaeans. But the will of Paul surpassed this by a great abundance. For the former indeed preferred to perish with others; but the latter, not to perish together, but with others being saved, he chose to fall away alone from eternal glory. It is good, therefore, to enjoy the intercession of the saints; but when we ourselves are also cooperators. But if this is not present, the aid of others does not help, but we even perish with them. For what did Jeremiah profit the Judaeans? Did he not approach God three times, and three times heard, "Do not ^C pray nor make entreaty for this people, for I will not hearken to you" (Jer. VII, 16)? What did Samuel profit Saul, praying until the last day, and mourning for him? But what also did he profit the Israelites? Did he not say, "But far be it from me, this sin against the Lord, that I should cease to pray for you" (I Reg. XII, 23)? Did they not all perish? For hear God saying through the prophet: "If Noah, Job, and Daniel stand, they will not deliver their sons and daughters, because their wickedness has too much prevailed" (Ezech. XIV, 14). What then? Do prayers avail nothing? They do avail, and to the greatest extent; but when we also prove ourselves worthy. And if you wish to know how much they contributed, call to mind for me Cornelius and Tabitha; hear also God saying: "I will protect this city for my sake, and for the sake of David my servant," even for the sake of the righteous Hezekiah. Otherwise, if the prayers of individuals also were of value, why, when he was coming against Nebuchadnezzar, did God not say this, but handed over the city? Because wickedness had prevailed more. And this same Samuel again prayed for the Israelites, and obtained; but at what time? When they themselves were also grateful to God, then he put the enemies to flight. And "what need have I," someone will say, "of another's prayer, when I am pleasing to the Lord?" What are you saying, man? Paul did not say, "What need have I of prayer?" [This Peter said, "To what end is prayer for me?"] It is permitted that even if those praying were not worthy of it, indeed not even his peers; and do you say, "What need have I of prayer?" Peter did not say, "What need have I of prayer?" "Prayer," he says, "was being made without ceasing by the Church to God for him" (Acts XII, 5); and immediately He delivered him from chains; and do you say, "What need have I of prayer?" For this cause you are in need, because you do not believe that you are in need. For if God should examine our sloth and negligence in prayers, and that being placed in His sight and praying to Him, we do not exhibit to Him as much honor as ^D slaves to masters, as soldiers to commanders, as friends to friends: for you have a conversation with this one with attention; but approaching God for sins, and asking for pardon for so many crimes and requesting remission to be made to you, you are slothful, and with your knees placed on the ground, you frequently permit your mind to wander about the marketplace and the house, with your mouth babbling in vain and to no purpose? And we suffer this not once and twice, but frequently. If God should wish to examine this much, will we have pardon? Will we be able to attain excuse? I think not. But if God should examine our curious glances, and the wicked desires which we have in our mind, admitting base and impure thoughts from the incautious wandering of the eyes; if He should bring into the middle the detractions, by which through each day one reproaches another, and the untimely judgments by which we condemn our neighbor, having no business, and the deceits which we weave one against another, now indeed praising our brother present and speaking to him as to a friend, but speaking against him absent: will we not render accounts for these? But why should I speak of envy, through which we frequently envy those faring well, not only enemies, but also friends, and we rejoice in others suffering evils, and think the calamities of others to be a consolation for our own troubles? For if we are commanded to abstain from secular and present things, how must we not be miserable and unhappy, asking these things from God, which He has commanded even those who have them to cast away? But if we are commanded to pray not only for the faithful, but even for the unfaithful, reflect

how great an evil it is to pray against brothers. What are you doing, O man? You approach God to render Him propitious, and you pray against another? If you do not forgive, neither will it be forgiven you; and you not only do not forgive yourself, but do you ask that God not forgive the one who prays? If it is a disgrace to have enemies, and you yourself are praying that some evil should befall them—for when you ought to purge yourself for having enemies, you instead accuse them—what pardon will you obtain, even while speaking evil, at a time when you are in no small need of mercy? For you pray for your own sins [when] you have approached. Do not insist on remembering the things of another. For if you say, “Strike the enemy,” you have blocked your own mouth and no longer have boldness of speech; ^A first, because from the very start you have provoked the Judge; second, because you ask for things contrary to the character of prayer. For if you approach for the remission of sins, why do you discourse about punishment? On the contrary, it was necessary to do the opposite, and to make requests on their behalf, so that we might also make request for ourselves with boldness. For if you pray for them, even if you say nothing about your own, you have accomplished everything. If, then, there is nothing more foul than a soul praying for evil, nor more unclean than a tongue uttering such things, why do you do everything so that, while praying, you say nothing to provoke your Master? You are a man; do not spit out venom like asps; you are a man; do not become a beast. For this reason you are given a mouth, not so that you may bite, but so that you may heal. Remember what I have advised you, says God: to forgive and to pardon; yet you ask even Me to become a partner in the overturning of My own commands, and you devour your brother, and you stain your tongue, just like the madmen who [bite] their own limbs. How do you think the devil rejoices and laughs when he hears such a prayer? How do you think God is provoked and turns away and hates when you make such requests? Ponder, O man, whom you are approaching against your enemies. For are you approaching some other God? You are approaching Him who said, *Pray for your enemies* (Matt. 5:44). How then do you call down curses upon them? How do you ask God to break His own law? This is not the form of a suppliant; no one supplicates so that another might perish, but so that he himself might be saved. Why then do you put on the guise of a suppliant, but have the steps of an accuser? And when we pray for ourselves, we scratch and yawn and fall into a thousand thoughts; but when we pray against enemies, we do this while sober. For since the devil knows that we are *pushing the sword against ourselves*, he does not drag it [out] nor distract it then, so that he might harm us the more. But, you say, I have been treated unjustly and I am suffering. Then pray against the devil, who treats us more unjustly than all; for he is the one who begets even the enemies; but if you pray against enemies, you are praying the prayer that he wishes, just as if you pray for enemies, you pray against him. For he is the irreconcilable enemy; but a man, whatever he does, is a friend and a brother. Why then, leaving the one who is truly the enemy, do you bite your own limbs? Knowing these things, therefore, beloved, let us strive to conduct our lives according to the commandments of the Lord and His will, so that we may also attain the kingdom of heaven, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily III. On Penitence.

For this reason I constantly move the discourse regarding penitence, so that neither the repentant might despair, nor the one who is succeeding might think highly of himself. Are you righteous? Do not fall away; are you a sinner? Do not despair; and if you sin daily, repent daily: just as we do in old houses, when they become rotten, we remove the rotten parts and install new ones, and we never cease from constant care. If you have grown old from sin, renew yourself through penitence. And is it possible, he says, for one who has repented to be saved? Yes, it is fully possible. I have spent my whole life in sins, and if I repent, am I saved? Yes, fully. Whence is this evident? From the philanthropy of the Master. Do not trust in your penitence; for does your penitence have the power to scour away such great evils? If it were penitence alone, you would rightly be in fear; but since the philanthropy of God is mixed with penitence, take heart, because it overcomes your wickedness. For God is very philanthropic, and so philanthropic that He did not spare even His Only-Begotten, in order to purchase ungrateful slaves. And do not say to me, “I have sinned many and great sins, and how can I be saved?” You cannot; your Master can, and He so erases sins that not even a trace of them remains. For in the case of bodies this is not so; but even if the doctor tries ten thousand times, and if he applies medicines to the wound, he has indeed made the wound disappear, but the scar remains, carrying around the evidence of the wound and exhibiting the deformity of the appearance; and the doctor strives in ten thousand ways, but is unable to erase the scar—for the weakness of nature opposes him, and the impotence of the art, and the cheapness of the medicines. But when God erases sins, He leaves neither a scar nor does He allow a trace to remain, but along with health He bestows beauty, and along with the removal of punishment, He gives righteousness, and makes the one who has sinned equal to the one who has not sinned. For even if a man having ten thousand wounds repents and does something virtuous, God so erases them that neither a scar nor a trace nor a sign of the sins is visible. Just as in the body there are wounds and medicines, so also in the soul there are sins and penitence. And heed what I say: wound and medicine, sin and penitence; the wound is the sin, the medicine is the penitence; the wound has the rot, the medicine possesses the cleansing of the rot. Is there rot in the medicine? Is there healing in the wound? Do they not have their own order, and those theirs? Can this be changed into that, or that into this? Not at all. Let us come also to the sins of the soul: sin has shame, penitence possesses boldness. Knowing, therefore, that sin has shame—a thing capable of sufficiently repelling the one who is sinning—and that penitence has boldness—a thing capable of attracting the one who is repenting—Satan changed the order, and gave the shame to penitence, and the boldness to sin; and in the case of sin he does not allow him

^A to feel shame; for he knows that if he were to feel shame, he would flee from sin; but in the case of penitence he makes him feel shame, for he knows that one who feels shame does not repent. For he who repents of the evils he has committed, even if he does not show a repentance worthy of the sins, will nevertheless have the reward for this very act. Therefore, I advise those who are not yet captured by vice, not to get captured, for it is easier to avoid a fall than to rise up after falling; but to those who are held fast and broken, if they are willing to surrender themselves quickly to repentance, I promise great hope of salvation. For both good things and bad, when they cling to us for a longer time, become stronger. A plant recently set in the earth is easily pulled up; but one strengthened by roots over a long time is not. A building recently founded is easily overturned by those who infest it; but one well-established presents much trouble to those attempting to tear it down. Even a wild beast, if it has dwelt in a place for a long time with affection, is driven out with difficulty. And just as a fever, having attacked in the beginning, does not burn the sufferer with intense thirst; but when it has gained strength and raised up its flame, it then excites an incurable thirst; and if someone allows them to quench themselves with a drink, it does not extinguish, but inflames the furnace: so also it happens with a vicious passion; if we do not prevent it at the beginning as it enters our soul, and bar the doors, when it has entered, it brings an incurable disease to those who receive it. Therefore, just as a sluggish and indifferent person, even if he receives much time for repentance, will accomplish nothing great, and will not reconcile God to himself because of his sloth; so an awakened person, fervent with alacrity of spirit, and showing repentance with great speed, will be able to wipe out the sins of a long time even ^B in a brief moment of time: and hear how. Did not Peter deny Him three times? Did he not deny Him three times with an oath? Did he not fear the words of a base servant girl? What then? Did he need much time for repentance? Not at all; but on that very same night he both fell and rose again. For after that grave fall (for there is no evil equal to denial), repentance led him back again to his former honor. And He entrusted to him the presidency of the Church over the whole world; and, what is greater than all, He showed us that he possessed greater love for the Master than all the apostles. What about the Ninevites? The prophet came to them, he read the sentence like a royal letter containing their punishment, and he shouted saying: "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown" (Jonah III, 4). They heard these things, and they did not disbelieve, they did not despise them, but immediately the running of all was to fasting, of men, of women, of children; nor was the nature of the brute beasts free from this service: everywhere sackcloth, everywhere ashes, everywhere mourning and wailing. And the king himself, adorned with the diadem, descended ^C from the royal throne, spread sackcloth under himself and covered himself with ashes: and it was a terrible and paradoxical thing to see, the purple obscured beneath sackcloth. What the purple garment could not do, the sackcloth was able to accomplish; what the diadem did not avail to bring about, the ashes successfully achieved. Let us therefore consider how many loads of sins each of us has, and let us show forth equivalent mercies; nay, rather far more, that not only may the sins be wiped out, but that the alms may also be reckoned to us as righteousness. For unless the good deeds are so many that they both strip away the crimes and allow some portion of what remains to be credited to us as righteousness, no one will deliver us from punishment. For when you irritate a man, you beseech friends and neighbors and doorkeepers, and you spend money, and you consume many days approaching and begging; and even if he, being irritated, rejects you once, or twice, or a thousand times, you do not lose heart at all, but, proceeding to strive more, you apply a greater supplication. But when the God of all is provoked, we yawn and lie on our backs and take our leisure ^D; and when shall we ever be able to reconcile Him? How do we not provoke Him more by this very thing? For He is moved to greater indignation and wrath when those who sin do not grieve than when they commit the sins. And do not say, "I have sinned too much, and I cannot call upon an indignant God." For if the widow was able to sway that judge who neither feared God nor regarded men, much more will constant prayer reconcile the good One. Therefore, even if you are not a friend, even if you ask for things not owed, even if you have devoured and wasted your paternal goods, and have been away from His sight for a long time, even if you approach Him as one who is angry and indignant, provided you only wish to return, you will receive everything, and you will extinguish His wrath and sentence immediately. For the intention toward God, brothers, is to have a patient and merciful spirit toward sinners. He is merciful in a twofold way for their salvation; both by procuring salvation for them from repentance, and by reserving a benefit for those who will make progress in virtue from their descendants. And to take up the discourse again, God uses long-suffering, so that both the sinner may repent, and [that He] may not preclude salvation for those born of him. For even if a sinner continues to sin without repentance, He frequently spares the root, that He might preserve the fruits; frequently, however, He also waits for their own salvation: and how, hear. Thare, the father of Abraham, was both a worshiper and a maker of idols; but he did not pay the penalty of impiety in this life, and rightly so. For if God, anticipating, had cut off the root, whence would such a great fruit of faith have sprung? What is more shameless than that wickedness of his? Or who is more of a fornicator and defiled, as Paul says? Or who is a murderer of his brother, as far as

he was concerned? Or who has been hated by God, as Scripture testifies, saying: *I loved Jacob, but Esau I hated* (Rom. 9. 13)? If, therefore, he was a fornicator and a murderer and defiled and hated, why is he not swept from the midst? Why is he not cut off? Why does he not suffer punishment immediately? Why? It is good indeed, brothers, to tell the reason. If he had been cut off, the world would have lost a great fruit of justice; and what kind! Esau begat Raguel, Raguel begat Zara, Zara begat Job (Gen. 36).

Do you see what a flower of patience would have been lost if God, anticipating, had exacted punishment from the root? Let no one, therefore, who is in wickedness despair; let no one who is in virtue fall asleep. Let neither the latter be confident; for often even the harlot will surpass him, nor let the former despair; for it is possible for him even to surpass the first. For when we return to the vehement love of God, He does not remember former things. God is not as man; for He does not reproach 437 past deeds, nor does He say, "Why have you been away for so long?" if we repent; but He loves, provided that, when we approach, we only approach as we ought. For what is worse than Manasseh? And what is more blessed than Solomon? But the one was able to appease God, while the other fell asleep and fell. For this reason Esau also did not obtain forgiveness, because he did not repent as he ought; for his tears were not of repentance, but of spite and anger. Judas also repented, for he hanged himself. But if you wish to see accurate repentance, hear the repentance of Peter after the denial. For because it was likely that he would be haughty, being conscious to himself that he loved Christ more than the others, for this reason he went out and wept bitterly; and not only this, but he also involved himself in myriad dangers after these things. The blessed David also repented, thus saying: *I will wash my bed every night, I will bedew my couch with my tears* (Ps. 6. 7); and the sin committed long ago, after so many years, after so many generations, he mourned as if it had happened just recently. For the penitent must not be angry, nor wild, but broken as one convicted, as one who has no boldness, as one condemned, as one who ought to be saved by mercy alone, as one who has appeared ungrateful toward the benefactor and worthless and deserving of myriad punishments. Let not, therefore, the one on the stage despair, nor the one in the church be confident; for to the latter God says, *Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall* (1 Cor. 10. 12); but to the former, *Does he who falls not rise again?* (Jer. 8. 4). For the one needs to guard what he has, while the other needs to become what he is not; the one needs to preserve health, the other to be delivered from sickness; for he is suffering. To him, therefore, He says: *Behold, you have become whole, sin no more, lest something worse happen to you* (John 5. 14); but to this one, *Do you want to become whole? Rise, take up your bed, and go to your home* (John 5. 8). For even if you have thirty-eight years, like that paralytic, if you exert yourself to become whole, there is no one preventing; only desire to rise; only touch the road leading there, and you will proceed quickly; do not close the doors, do not block the entrance. Brief is the present time, small is the labor; but even if it were great, still it would not do to give up. For even if you do not labor this most beautiful labor which is in repentance, in that world you will surely labor, and you will suffer distress in another way. If then there is labor both here and there, why do we not choose this one, which holds much fruit and a great reward? For if God treats us with kindness while we are unworthy, and acts humanely when we have sinned, if we depart from wickedness and pursue virtue, what things shall we not obtain, what good things shall we not enjoy? For to those who have sense, kindnesses attract them to the obedience of the commandments more than punishments. If, therefore, even before we have shown any good, or rather even after we have committed things deserving of punishment, God has deemed us worthy of such kindness, if we become grateful, and show our thanksgiving for what has passed, and make a transformation for the better, 458 of how much honor from Him shall we not again be deemed worthy? For if we, when our servants have offended, if they promise to become better, both receive them back and restore them to their former honor, and often grant them greater intimacy—God will do this for us much more, if we show a repentance equal to our sins. And this is clear from the accounts of the blessed David. For since he was tripped up and fell, caught in the charge of adultery and murder, then he did not remain lying in the fall, but stood up again, and fought alongside God against the enemy; he wrestled him down so generously that even after he died, he protected his own descendants. For to Solomon, having dared that great transgression, and having become worthy of myriad deaths, God says for David's sake that He would leave the kingdom whole, saying thus: *Rending I will rend the kingdom from your hand, and give it to your servant; yet in your days I will not do these things, for David your father's sake; from your son's hand I will take it* (3 Kings 11. 11-12). And to Hezekiah, who was about to be in danger of his life, even though he was righteous, again for the sake of that blessed one He said He would help: *For I will protect this city for my own sake, and for David my servant's sake* (4 Kings 19. 34). As therefore in the case of those who show their own gratitude, because of the goodness present in Him, God recalls His own decisions, and accepts them as they change, and delivers them from the impending punishment; so again when He promises to provide either some good things or a deadline for repentance, and sees that they have become unworthy, even then He recalls His promises. For it is not so grievous to sin, as it is to remain in sins. For this reason God also anticipates by bestowing kindnesses upon us, and deems us worthy of forgiveness again after we have sinned, and does not bring punishments immediately upon our heels, so that by all means He might draw us toward repentance, both by the things with which He acts kindly and by those with which He is long-suffering; but often also by the things with which He punishes some, He wishes to lead others, so that having been sobered by the fear of those, they might escape the experience of the punishment. Have you sinned much? Stop henceforth, return the opposite way, confess gratitude to God, because He did not snatch you away in the midst of your sins, and do not seek another deadline for doing evil; do not say, "There will be time">

tiam ad philosophiæ culmen in ipsis urbibus evehit. Illa quippe nunc nos ad paternam reduxit domum; illa etiam remissiores hodie in viam redegit. Quod si cœpta sola tanta vobis insecit studia, visa et ...

HOMILY IV.

Do you wish to learn what an ornament fasting is to men, what a fortification, what a refuge? Consider for me that blessed and admirable race of monks. For they, fleeing from the tumults of this life and hastening up to the mountain peaks, having built their huts in tranquil solitude—as if in a safe harbor—have taken up fasting as a companion and partner of their whole life. Therefore, it has made them angels instead of men; and not them alone, but it also raises even those within the cities to the same height of philosophy. For it is she who has now led us back to our father’s house; it is she who has brought back to the path even those who were more sluggish today. But if, once begun, it has instilled in you such zeal, having appeared and...

^A how great a reverence will it produce in you when it has arrived? If Adam had heard this voice, he would not have heard the second saying: *You are earth, and to earth you shall return* (Gen. 3:19); but because he disobeyed this, for that reason there came death and despondency and cares, and a life more grievous than any death. And just as, when insulted, it brought death upon the one who insulted it, so too when honored, it recalled death. For the great and admirable city of the Ninevites, lying prostrate, having bowed its head to the very pit, and being about to receive the blow descending from above, a power standing by from above, as it were, snatched it from the very hands of the executioner and led it back to life. ^B Let us see, therefore, how the Ninevites fasted, and how they were delivered from that wrath. *Let not men and beasts and sheep and oxen graze*, he says (Jon. 3:7). What do you say, tell me? Do the irrational animals also fast, and are horses and mules covered in sackcloth? Yes, he says. For just as when some wealthy person dies, the relatives command not only the menservants and maidservants, but even the horses to be covered in sackcloth and to follow to the tomb, demonstrating the magnitude of the calamity and drawing everyone to pity, so also, when that city was about to perish, they covered the irrational nature with sackcloth and the yoke of fasting. It is not possible for irrational animals to learn the wrath of God by reason, he says. Let them learn through famine; for those who are about to share in the punishment must share also in the ^C fast. If, however, any of those here present, hindered by bodily infirmity, are unable to remain without food, I counsel these also to soothe their bodily infirmity, and not to deprive themselves of this spiritual instruction, but rather to show greater zeal in this. For God commands that the abstinence from foods take place for this reason: that by bridling the promptings of the flesh, we may render it submissive for the fulfillment of the commandments. But if we are likely not to bring to ourselves even the help that comes from fasting because of bodily weakness, and to show still greater sloth, we are being harmed in the greatest ways. For if a lack of good deeds even with fasting profits us nothing, much more, if we are unable to use the medicine of fasting, shall we show greater sloth toward the fulfillment of the commandments. For if those who are occupied with the affairs of life would never endure to undertake an enterprise ^D without first examining the profit therefrom, much more is it just that we should do this, and not simply pass over the weeks of fasting, but search our own conscience, and examine our reasoning, and see what has been accomplished in this week, and what in the other, and what addition we have received for the coming one, and which of the passions within us we have corrected. For if we are not intending to manage our own affairs in this way, and to take such care of our own soul, there will be no profit for us from the fasting and the abstinence that we endure. If, therefore, because of bodily infirmity you cannot extend the day without food, no sensible person will be able to blame you for this. For we have a gentle and benevolent Master, and He requires nothing of us beyond our strength. For He does not demand that the abstinence from foods and the fasting take place simply for its own sake, nor for this reason, that we should remain without food, but that, withdrawing ourselves from worldly affairs, we should spend all our leisure on spiritual matters. For if we were to show our zeal with a sober mind, and were to organize our life and our food in such a way as to yield all things to spiritual matters, so as to satisfy only necessity, and to consume our entire life in good deeds, there would be no need for us for the help that comes from fasting. But since human nature is slothful, and surrenders itself more to luxury and ease, for this reason, like a loving father, the benevolent Master has devised for us the remedy of fasting, so that the things of luxury may be pruned away from us, and we may transfer the care regarding worldly things to the practice of spiritual things. But there are many people who, as if about to box with the fast as with a wild beast, arm themselves with gluttony, and having torn themselves and darkened their minds, they welcome the calm and gentle eye of the fast with much madness.

Homily IV

And what grace, I pray, will be given to you, or from where will you receive a reward, if the matter were not joined with labor? For I can show you not a few who naturally shrink from being joined to women: shall we therefore call these modest, or judge them worthy of crowns? By no means. For modesty is a certain continence, and it exists when we overcome the passions that assail us. For often the flood of perturbations, more savage than the surges of the sea, overwhelms our soul and brings upon it great confusion. But he who is lazy and negligent is immediately troubled, terrified, and agitated as the storm comes on, and he watches his soul being submerged and enduring shipwreck by the passions; but the robust and manly man, like a pilot at the helm, having his reason set over the passions, does not desist from doing everything until he has steered the vessel to the calm harbor of philosophy ^A. And let us not allow our strength to be softened and our sinews broken by the conversations of women: for a great and ineffable malice creeps into our souls from this. And what is it that, being drunk with love, we do not notice it? For even this itself is the most grievous of all, that we do not even understand that we are being so enervated and becoming softer than wax. For just as someone, having taken a proud and terrible lion, cutting off his hair, pulling out his teeth, and cutting off his claws, renders him shameful and ridiculous and easy for children to defeat, who was before formidable and intolerable and shook everything with his roar alone: in the same way also, women, whoever they capture, render them obedient to the devil and easy to catch; softer, more precipitous, impudent, foolish, hot-headed, daring, importunate, cowardly, cruel, servile in character, illiberal, base, and gossiping: and, to speak concisely, they imprint upon their minds whatever womanish and base affections they have. It is therefore impossible for one living with such women and living in their company, with such great conformity of affections, not to be some sort of peddler or a futile man. For if he should say something, all of it will be about web and wool, his tongue already infected with the color of womanish speech; but if he does anything, he does it in a plainly servile way, leading himself far away from Christian liberty, and becoming useless for accomplishing great things ^B. If, therefore, you wish to make it plain to us that you do not rejoice in speaking scurrilous things, do not even endure to hear them. Yet when indeed will you be able to bear labors for continence, if you gradually dissolve with laughter and obscene words? For it must be thought that it goes well with us if the soul is religious and chaste, pure from all these things. And let no one say to me: "I cannot be saved unless I dismiss my wife, unless I dismiss my children, unless I dismiss my occupations." For is marriage an impediment to you? Woman was given to you as a helper. Is marriage an enemy or an evil? Rather, it is fornication that is a certain evil. I pledge to you your salvation at my own risk. But if a wife be wicked, do not bring this forward as an excuse: for indeed the wife of Job himself was wicked and perverse, and she persuaded him to blaspheme God. What then? Did she shake that tower? Did she conquer that diamond? Did she overcome that rock? Not at all; but she indeed struck, yet the tower became firmer; the fruit was plucked, but the tree was not shaken; the leaves fell, and the root remained unmoved. Just as, therefore, a pilot who would suffer shipwreck in a harbor would obtain no pardon, so also a man who has obtained security from marriage, if he violates the marriages of others, or looks curiously at any other woman, will be able to have no pardon either before men or before God, even if he pleads the desire of nature a thousand times. For what pleasure could arise from such lust, if fear is present, if anxiety and danger, if the fear of prisons and punishments, if the anger of a judge and a sword, and hell and destruction are considered? Indeed, such a man fears and stands in awe even of shadows and walls and the stones themselves as if they were emitting a voice: I say, he fears and dreads everything, and is bitten in his soul by the expectation of such great evils. Marriage is therefore not an impediment, but is rather a safeguard of continence. For such a thing is virginity, and it requires such great labor, that when Christ came down from heaven to make angels of men, so that he might plant the heavenly city here, not even then did he dare to command it, or include it among the laws; but he commanded that one die for his sake—and what could be graver than that?—and that one carry his cross continually and do good to enemies; but he did not at all enact a law to preserve virginity, but left it to remain in the free will of the hearers, saying: "He that is able to receive it, let him receive it" (Matt. XIX, 12). Indeed, the dignity of this matter is great, and this field of virtue is quite hidden. And those who in the Old Testament did many otherwise remarkable things also make this manifest. For that great Moses, that head of the prophets, the friend familiar to God, who used such freedom of speech that he withdrew sixty thousand men, who were guilty, from punishment and the divinely sent plague: such a man, so great, did indeed command the sea, and divided the deep, and shattered rocks, and changed the air; who turned the waters of the Nile into blood, and transformed every creature, and showed ten thousand other admirable things, and many works of virtue: but toward these contests he could not even turn his eyes, but had need of marriage and its protection ^C.

and dared not yield himself to the sea of virginity, fearing the waves thereof. And the patriarch, too, the priest of his child, had the strength to wrestle down the most tyrannical passion of nature, and was able to slay his child—that child, Isaac, in the very bloom of his age, in the very prime of his youth—his only-begotten, his legitimate son, given to him against all expectation; and he had the strength to lead him up to the mountain, and he snatched up the blade, and thrust the sword through the throat of the child; yes, he laid him down and bathed him in blood. Yet nevertheless, he who was able to accomplish so great and momentous a struggle, having gone beyond the limits of nature itself, did not dare to strip for the contests of virginity; rather, he feared even these lists, ^B and sought the consolation of marriage. And the just Job, too, who endured the face of the devil—being struck, not striking—and who endured every species of temptation, and each one with every excess; for those things which seem to be, and are, grievous, all these were poured into one body and scattered upon one soul, even his. Such a man, then, so great and momentous, who had trampled down such compulsions of nature, did not himself dare to enter into this contest, but enjoyed a wife, and became a father to so many children. For nowhere has God legislated for celibacy; to whom be glory and honor and worship, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Homilia V. On Prosperity and Adversity.

Most men, when they are wealthy, when they are held in honor, when all things happen for them according to their desire, when they have mastered their enemies, then they think to remember God; therefore, they do not even know when He forgets them. For those who do not know the sign of memory do not understand the sign of forgetfulness either. For nothing produces memory before God as much as the study of virtue; just as nothing else produces forgetfulness as much as being in sins. And you, therefore, O man, when you are in calamities, do not say, "God has forgotten me," but rather say this when you are in sins, even if all things are going according to your heart's desire. For the sober and wakeful soul does not only show its proper gratitude when things go according to its desire, but even if a contrary state of affairs ensues, it brings the same thanksgiving, being in no way slackened by the change of circumstances. For just as the rush of abundant waters, having received that which flows down, stirs up bubbles, and some of them are stifled at the moment of their birth, while others, having swollen larger, are themselves subsequently burst; in the same way, the sea of this life has covered over those who appeared briefly, and has submerged those who lasted longer. And why are you troubled, he says, if such a one is cast out and such a one is brought in? Christ was being crucified, and Barabbas the robber was demanded, the murderer being preferred before the Savior. For when any change occurs for the worse, then the masks of the flatterers are taken off; then the chorus of hypocrites is exposed, and the pretense of the matter; the mouths of all are opened. "The petty man," they say, "the wicked man, the all-wicked man—did you not flatter him yesterday? Did you not kiss his hands?" Those were a mask; the time came, and I threw away the mask, and revealed what was in my mind. Many, indeed, suffer with their friends when they are doing badly, but they no longer rejoice with them when they are in good repute. For to "rejoice with those who rejoice" (Rom. 12:15) is no small achievement, but it is much greater than "to weep with those who weep," and to stand by those in danger. For many have suffered with those in danger, but have not rejoiced with those in good repute; rather, they have been stung, and having endured the harder task, they have fainted at the easier one. For nothing makes men so lawless and foolish as to gape after the glory of the many; and nothing makes them approved and adamant as to despise it. Wherefore it takes a very youthful soul to withstand such a rush and violence of spirit. For when he is prospering, he sets himself before all others; but when he endures the opposite, he wishes to bury himself, becoming submerged by the emotion. The three children were cast into the furnace, and not even so did they forget their piety. Therefore, the fire became a wall for them, and the flame a garment, and the furnace a fountain; and having received them bound, it delivered them unbound; it took mortal bodies, and as if of immortals, it refrained from them; it knew not their nature, but it was pleased by their piety; the tyrant bound their feet, and the feet bound the energy of the fire. O paradoxical miracle! The flame unbound those who were bound, and was itself henceforth bound by those who were bound. 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, while nature remained, it halted the energy; for it did not quench the fire, but rendered it ineffective while still burning. And what is truly wonderful and paradoxical, this happened not only to the bodies of the saints, but also to their garments; and just as the garments of the apostles—those of Paul—drove away diseases and demons, and the shadows of Peter put death to flight; so here, too, the sandals of these children bound the power of the fire. I know not how to say it; for the miracle exceeds all explanation of speech; for the energy was quenched, and was not quenched. For when it was conversing with the bodies of those saints, it was quenched; but when it was necessary to break the bonds, it was not quenched; at any rate, it broke the bonds, and did not touch their ankles. You saw how great the proximity was, and the fire was not deceived, and did not dare to proceed deeper than the bonds? For what purpose did he bind them when he was about to cast them in? That the miracle might be greater; that the sign might be shown more paradoxically; that you might not think the things seen were a deception of the eyes. For if that fire had not been fire, it would not have consumed the bonds, it would not have snatched them up while they were sitting outside; but as it is, in the things outside it showed its power, and in the things inside it showed its obedience. And when the tyrant saw that the children had suffered no harm, hear how he was changed: "Servants of the most high God, come forth, and come..."

^B forth!" (Dan. 3:93). Did he not say a little before, "And who is the god who shall be able to deliver you out of my hands?" You see those who are outside being executed, and he calls out those who are within; whence were you led to philosophize such things? Do you see how greatly the king was changed? Therefore God permitted all things to happen that the tyrant wished, so that he might show that no one is able to harm those whom He Himself guards. For indeed, in the case of Job as well, He accomplished the same thing: He permitted the devil to show all his power, and after he had exhausted all his darts, and no method of his snares remained, then ^C He led the athlete out of the arena, so that the victory might be brilliant and indisputable. But also the blessed Paul, who illuminated the whole world, was blinded at the time of his calling; but his blindness was the illumination of the world. Because he had seen poorly, God blinded him well, so that he might usefully receive his sight; and because he was persecuting the Church exceedingly, and was so vehement and inaccessible, he received a stronger bridle, so that he might not be carried away by the impulse of that passion and be disobedient to the things said; and so that he might learn against whom he waged war, whom he could not bear either punishing ^D him, or even bestowing benefits upon him. For it was not darkness that blinded him, but the superabundance of light that obscured him.

But what of Peter? "Jesus," he says, "went into one of the ships of Simon, and asked him to put out a little from the land" (Luke 5:3). Do you see how He enters into the ship—He who had no need of a ship—as if to win the ship's master? For why does the Lord ask Simon? Why did Simon, when he had labored all night and caught nothing, remain though the task was done? But he was bearing it grievously, washing his nets with empty hands and adding labor to labor; and because ^A he could achieve nothing, he was sorrowful. Therefore the Lord, seeing him bearing it grievously, said to him, "Lend me your little ship for a short time, O sailor, so that having entered, I may teach that crowd which is following me by faith!" But Simon, still plunged in sadness, as he had not attained his desire, says to the Lord: "Whence do you come, O man? Why are you troublesome to me? Look around for another boat, if you wish to linger on the lake. You see me mourning because I do not have enough bread, and you promise that you will supply the word of God? I do not see whence I might borrow money to feed my mother-in-law ^B and my wife, and I should furnish you with a ship, so that by day, just as by night, I may labor in vain? If you bring passage money, enter into my ship; if you do not bring it, depart, I ask: for my stomach, not your word, will feed me." The Lord says: "Do not bear it grievously, Simon: truly you speak as a sailor; do not think that my arrival will be a loss for you, but that it will bring abundance rather than indigence." Having heard these things, Simon, and having been exhilarated a little in his countenance by the hope of the reward, receives ^C the Lord into the ship. "Jesus," it is said, "sitting, taught the crowds from the ship." Hearing this, Simon began to murmur, and to say within himself: "Could I hope to receive a reward from this man? I fell into a nocturnal loss, and who is this that meets me today? This man talks about poverty, he says that no one ought to possess anything: does he want me to sell my ship, so that I may distribute the price to the poor? Or should I expect a reward from him?" Then, approaching the Lord, he said: "Your words are beautiful, your voice is sweet, your teaching is honorable; nevertheless, fulfill what was agreed upon." ^D Then the Lord to Simon: "You seek to receive a reward from me; push out into the deep, and let down your nets for the catch." Simon answers: "Shall I fish again, let down the nets, and undertake labor? Would that I had not touched the water with empty hands the whole night. Are you more skillful in this nautical art? Or do you possess something in the depths of the sea? You may be a doctor; are you perhaps also a captor of fish? Depart from me: for I see that you bring nothing. Why should I waste time? Did I not testify these things to you at the beginning?" Then the Lord to Simon: "Do not regard me as a needy man, Simon: do not consider my hands and my bosom: I carry the reward not in my hands, but in my mouth. Push out into deep water, and let down your nets for a catch." He however replies: "Master, working all night, we caught nothing: but at your word I will let down the nets." And when they had done this, they enclosed a great multitude of fish; "and their nets were tearing" (Luke 5:5, 6). O astonishing things! Peter lacks no solicitude. The net was tearing, he was contemplating Christ, he was thinking of the fish, and he was weighing the miracle. He could not extract the weight, and he called out for helpers. "For those," it says, "who were in the other ship, where James and John were, ran together and began to gather the fish" (Ib. v. 7), and as much as they gathered, so much were they multiplied. For the fish were hastening, as to who might first minister to the Lord’s command: the small were leaping ahead of the great; those of middle size were preempting the larger; the larger were leaping higher than the small: they were not waiting for the fishermen’s hands, but were casting themselves into the ship. The floor of the lake was being evacuated: no fish was enduring to remain in the lowest part; but with the nets torn, some were casting themselves into the ship, others were remaining outside the nets gaping so that they might be caught, and they were not enduring to remain far from these. What then of Simon? He who had fallen into two businesses, who had labored through the night and caught nothing, who during the day by the word of Jesus had caught all things; when he saw these things, he fell before the Lord saying, "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man" (Luke 5:8): "I know finally who you are. Never have I seen such a catch of fish. For usually, Lord, fish are enclosed within the seine; I see the miracle performed now in contradiction, the fish are holding the seine. Finally, curb your divine command: leave to the lake at least two fish for propagation. Depart from me, Lord: I do not drive you away, but I declare myself wretched: Depart from me, for I am a sinful man." What then does Jesus say? "Do not fear, Peter, from now on you will be catching men" (Ibid. v. 10). O the power of the Lord! O the prudence of Peter! He heard only once, and immediately obeyed. Not

sold anything, nor did he entrust it to a wife; but having left all things, he followed him. And therefore, the rich man who was in Abraham’s bosom was seen by the rich man, and just as he himself had rendered his own suffering more severe, by sitting in the rich man's vestibule and seeing foreign goods, so now he makes his punishment in Gehenna more severe by seeing the luxury of Lazarus: so that he might have a punishment more unbearable not only by the nature of the torments, but also by the comparison of the other’s honor. And just as God, casting Adam out of paradise, placed him opposite paradise, so that the continuous sight, renewing the passion, might more accurately provide him with the perception of the loss of good things; so did He place this man opposite Lazarus, so that he might know of what good things he had deprived himself. And for what reason did the rich man make his supplication not to Lazarus, but to Abraham? He was ashamed and blushed, and from the things concerning himself, he thought that he would hold a grudge in every way. For if I, he says, enjoying such abundance, and having suffered no injury, overlooked the man who was in such evils, and did not even share the crumbs, much more will he, having been so overlooked, not assent to the favor. And he called upon Abraham, whom he thought was ignorant of what had happened, not knowing that the patriarch did not speak out of his own mind the things which he said, but was reading divine laws to him; and he sought that finger which he had allowed to be betrayed many times to the tongues of dogs. But see the affection of the just man: he did not say, "You inhuman and altogether wicked one, having brought such great evils upon the man, do you remember philanthropy now, and mercy, and forgiveness? Are you not ashamed, nor do you blush?" He said none of these things, but what? "Child, you received your good things," for he says: ^C do not further trouble a humbled soul; the things of the punishment are sufficient for him; let us not add to his misfortunes. What I am master of, he says, I share with you; but to cross over from here to there is not a matter for us. Let us hear what the rich man says to Abraham: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame" (Luke 16: 24). Why, therefore, does he not make his petition to Lazarus, but to the patriarch? And reasonably so; for he did not even dare to look at the beggar. For he considered his own inhumanity, and, weighing the cruelty which he had shown toward him, he suspected that he perhaps would not deign even an answer. Wherefore he makes his plea not to him, but begs of the patriarch. But yet, not even thus did he gain anything more. You see how much he who lay by the gate enjoys of honor and precedence—he who was held in contempt, the beggar, he who was continually struggling with hunger, he who was besieged by sores, he who was laid out for the dogs. For I gladly turn these things over and over, so that none of those in poverty, or in sickness and hunger, should despise himself by lamenting; but bearing all things with patience and thanksgiving, he may already be nourished by good hopes, awaiting those ineffable rewards and the recompense for his labors: of which may it happen that we all attain, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom belongs glory, power, honor and worship, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY VI. Concerning instruction and admonition.

^D We were lately reproving those who abandon prayer, and who at that time spend the time outside the church; now, however, I wish to reproach those who are inside, not because they remain inside, but because, remaining inside, they are in no way better disposed than those spending the time outside, conversing with one another during that most awesome time, and overlooking the divine oracles. What are you doing, O man? Do you see so many captives among your brothers standing near? For the operation of the demons is indeed a wicked and grievous chain, and more grievous than any iron, and you are conversing about matters that are of no concern? Is the sight alone not sufficient to strike you with awe and bring you to sympathy? Your brother is in chains, and you are in sloth? What excuse will you have, tell me, being so unsympathetic, so inhuman, so cruel? Do you not wish to suffer with your brother? Even if only for your own sake, fear and stand up. Do you not fear that, while you are conversing, idling, and neglecting, some demon might spring out from there, and finding your soul vacant and swept, might enter with great ease, finding the house without a door? For is it not necessary for all to release fountains of tears in common at that hour, and for the eyes of all to be seen drenching, and for wailing and lamentations to arise concerning the whole Church? After the communion of the mysteries, after the enjoyment of the bath, after having pledged oneself to Christ, that wolf was able to snatch the lambs from the flock and hold them with himself, and you, seeing the misfortune, do you not weep? and are these things worthy of apology? If you saw your neighbor’s house being set on fire, tell me, even if the neighbor were the most hostile of all, would you not have run to extinguish the fire, fearing lest the fire, walking on its way, might also touch your own thresholds? Do this also with your brothers who are being harmed by the evil demons. For the operation of the demons is indeed a fire and a grievous conflagration. Observe, moreover, your own soul, lest the demon, walking on its way, might take it beforehand; and when you see him present, flee with great zeal to the Master, so that the demon, seeing your soul fervent and awakened, might henceforth judge your mind to be inaccessible to him. For if he sees you yawning and idling, as if into a deserted lodging, he will quickly enter; but if he sees you intent and awakened, and hanging from the very heavens, he will not even dare to look at you henceforth. So that if you despise your brothers, yet spare yourself, and block off the entrance against your soul for the evil demon. For nothing is so accustomed to wall off his approach to us as prayer and earnest supplication.

Homily VI

^A If you wish to learn how great a good it is to be able, along with one's own salvation, to gain another's also, listen to the prophet speaking in the person of God: *He who separates*, he says, *what is precious from what is vile, shall be as my mouth* (Jer. 15, 19). And this is what he means: he who leads his neighbor from error to truth, or from vice to virtue, as far as human power allows, imitates me. ^B For if He himself, being God and partaker of that ineffable essence, embraced the cross and endured all other human things for our sake and for our salvation, what are we not bound to furnish to those who have the same nature as we and are our own members, that we might be able to snatch them from the jaws of the devil and lead them to the path of virtue? For if, in the case of food for the body, the matter is such that men, in keeping something for their kinsmen and friends, exhibit the greatest proof of charity, how much more will it bring us extra praise if we do this in spiritual things? ^C For if one busies himself to teach his neighbor, he does not merely benefit him, but procures for himself a more ample reward; he receives a double gain, because he obtains a greater remuneration from God, and moreover, in attempting to instruct his brother, he comes into remembrance of his own duties and renews his memory of what has been said. For if anyone, having placed a statue of an inanimate son, friend, or relative, thinks that the person is present, and through that dead image imagines the one who has long since departed, ^D much more do we enjoy the presence of the saints through the divine Scriptures, having represented not their bodies, indeed, but their spirits; for their words are a kind of image of their souls. Therefore, just as physicians do not compel the infirm, who are fastened to their beds, to be brought to their homes, but they themselves run to them so as to treat their diseases, so you too must labor according to your ability, and apply all diligence and care so that you may be able to liberate brothers who are sick in soul, mindful that this present life is very short. And if we do not seek these gains, no salvation remains for us to hope for in the other life. Often a single soul gained is able to wash away an immense pile of sins and in that day serve as a ransom for us. For if that Tabitha, who clothed the widows and relieved their poverty, returned again from death to life (Acts 9, 40), and the tears of those to whom she had shown mercy brought the soul of the deceased back to her body, when the resurrection of the dead had not yet appeared, what could not the tears of men saved by you accomplish? For just as those who stood by her recalled her from death to life, so too those who are saved here will stand by you and bring it about that you experience great humanity and will snatch you from the flames of hell. For if for expenditures and gifts of money there are so many crowns, so great a reward, such a recompense, how much more will very many good things be rendered to us for help brought to souls? No one can rightly look for his own advantage without the salvation of his neighbor. ^A For Paul says: *Let no one seek his own, but let each one seek the things of others* (1 Cor. 10, 24), knowing well that individual profit is contained in the utility of one's neighbor. For just as those who inflict injury on others and seize others' property, when they have departed thither and see those who have suffered such things—for they shall certainly see them, as is manifest from the story of the rich man and Lazarus—they will neither be able to open their mouths nor utter a word nor defend themselves, but full of immense shame and desperation, they will go from their sight to their punishments; so those who instruct and admonish others, when they see those who have been saved by their works standing as patrons for them in the other world, will be filled with great confidence. Nor let anyone say to me: "What business have I with him? He is a stranger and unknown." ^B As long as he is a believer and a partaker of the same mysteries as you, and assembles with you at the same church, he is more related to you than all brothers and kinsmen. For just as not only those who steal, but also those who, when they have the power, do not hinder it, pay the same penalties, so also not only the impious, but also those who are able to lead them back from impiety and yet refuse to do so, will pay the selfsame punishment. Let each of you therefore recover one brother; work diligently, be anxious and concerned, so that we may come to the congregation of the morrow with great confidence, offering gifts to God—gifts, I say, more precious than all else: the souls, namely, of those who have been led back from error. ^C Even if it is necessary to endure injury, even if it is necessary to receive wounds, even if it is necessary to suffer anything else, let us do everything so that we may at last be able to recover them. For even those who are afflicted by bodily illness often are accustomed to lash out and speak insults; nevertheless, we endure these things, nor are we moved by such abuse, having only one thing in our desires: that we may see the health of the man so indecorously behaving himself. How then would it not be absurd that those who look to the safety of the body should apply such study and diligence, yet be sluggish when so many souls are miserably perishing, and think that no heavier thing happens to us while our members are rotting away? ^D What are you doing, O man? Tell me, do you see your brother being carried to a precipice, having thrown away concern for his own salvation, not understanding what must be done, and yet you do not stretch out a hand, you do not rebuke, you do not argue, but you prefer not to offend him or appear troublesome rather than to provide for his salvation? And what excuse or apology will you have before God? Have you not heard what God once commanded the Jews? Namely, that they should not neglect the straying beasts of their enemies, nor pass them by if they had fallen. Is it therefore commanded to the Jews not to neglect the beasts of their enemies; and are we to despise our brothers' souls being tripped up daily? And how would it not be of extreme cruelty and savagery not to spend even such care on men as they did on beasts? This one thing overturns everything; this has disturbed our life: that we neither endure it with fortitude when we are corrected, nor do we wish to correct others ourselves. For this reason we are troublesome to others when we reprove, because when we are reproved by them, we are exasperated. For if your brother had seen that he was being praised by you when you were reproving him, he also would have rendered the same reward in return. Do you wish to correct your brother? Weep before God; having taken him aside, offer exhortation, show love toward the one who has sinned, persuade him that being concerned and caring, and not wishing to cast him aside, you are speaking about his sin.

^C You must hold his feet, you must kiss his hands; do not be ashamed, if you truly wish to heal him. For physicians often do this: they kiss those who are sick and difficult, and by their entreaties they persuade them to accept life-giving medicine. And if it should be necessary to die for the sake of bringing a brother to his senses, do not hesitate; this is a martyrdom for you. Since John was a martyr, and yet he was not ordered to sacrifice, nor to worship an idol, but he laid down his head for the sake of the holy laws being outraged. Therefore, you too must contend even unto death for the sake of the truth, and the Lord will fight for you. A single human being ^D fired with zeal is sufficient to correct an entire populace. And let no one say to me, "I have nothing in common with my brother." We have nothing in common only with the devil, but with human beings we have many things in common: they partake of the same nature as us, they dwell upon the same earth, and they are nourished by the same food, they have the same Master, they have received the same laws. Let us not, therefore, say these things, but let us show the care appropriate for brothers. For how is it not absurd, if we see a fight in the marketplace, to step in and reconcile the combatants—and why do I say a fight? if we see an ass that has tripped, we all reach out a hand and hasten to lift it up; but to be negligent when our brothers are perishing, how is that not dreadful? Therefore, do not cease from admonishing a brother who you see is perishing, even if he reviles you, even if he insults you, even if he threatens to become your enemy, even if he threatens anything else whatsoever; endure everything with a noble spirit, so that you may win his salvation. If this man becomes your enemy, God will be your friend, and He will reward you with great goods on that day. For it is indeed a great good to show mercy to the destitute; but there is nothing such as that which is to lead someone away from error; for nothing is equal in value to a soul, not even the whole world. So that even if you give countless riches to the poor, you will not perform anything as great as the one who turns back a single soul. For the one who does this becomes like Paul and Peter, not by being in danger like them, and enduring famines and plagues and the other evils—for the present time is a time of peace—but by showing what comes from one's own readiness. And why do I say Peter and Paul? He shall be the mouth of Christ. For, "The one who brings forth the precious from the worthless," He says, "shall be as My mouth." It is possible, therefore, even for those sitting at home to perform this duty; if anyone has a friend or relative or acquaintance, let him do these things, and he shall be like Peter and Paul. And if you do not persuade him today, you will persuade him tomorrow; and if you never persuade him, you will have your reward in full; and even if you cannot persuade all, you will be able to save a few from the many. For the apostles, too, even if they did not persuade everyone, since they spoke to all, they reaped the reward for all. Therefore, because you cannot teach many, do not despise a few, nor, through the desire for the many, draw yourself away from the few. And if you cannot save a hundred, attend to the ten; and if you cannot save ten, do not despise the five; and if you cannot save five, do not overlook the one. For God is accustomed to determine crowns not by the outcome of the accomplishments, but by the intention of those who accomplish them. For we who teach are not held responsible for the listeners not being persuaded, but only for not offering counsel; for the admonishing is ours alone, but the being persuaded is theirs. And just as if we do not offer counsel, even if they perform countless good deeds, all the reward will belong to them alone, and there will be no gain for us; so if, when we give counsel, they do not heed it, all the punishment will overtake them, and for us there will be no charge, but rather the reward will be great, meted out by God; for we have fulfilled all that was ours. For the one who speaks to those who heed has the consolation of the persuasion of the listeners; but the one who speaks continuously, and is not heard, yet does not cease from speaking, would be worthy of greater honor, because, following what is pleasing to God, he fulfills his part entirely, even if no one heeds him. But if the reward is greater for us from your disobedience, nevertheless we desire this to be lessened rather than that, and your salvation to be increased, deeming your approval to be a great reward. If, therefore, you see someone in need of spiritual or bodily healing, do not say to yourself, "For what reason did such-and-such a person not heal him?" or "Because I am a man of the world, I have a wife and children; these things belong to the priests, these things belong to the monks." Tell me, if you find gold lying on the ground, do you not say to yourself, "For what reason did such-and-such a person not pick it up?" By no means; rather you hasten to snatch it before others. Consider it thus regarding brothers who have fallen, and think you have found a treasure in their care. "For the one who brings forth the precious from the worthless," He says, "shall be as My mouth." And what could be equal to this? For that which neither fasting, nor sleeping on the ground, nor anything else is able to accomplish, the salvation of a brother does. For I do not promise these things; God Himself said this: "Because if you lead out even one," He says, "your mouth shall be as My mouth." Therefore, let us not pass through saying, "Who has sinned?" but let us hasten so that we may correct them; and let us not look only at this, whether there are many who are carried along, but let us be zealous for this, how we may lead them away. For to secure brothers from falling before the sin, bestows upon us no small salvation; and to show great care for them even after the sin, this also provides no small praise. For physicians speak to and preserve the health of those who are healthy, regarding what is able to maintain their health and ward off every disease—but when they have been negligent of the instructions and fallen into infirmity, they do not overlook them, but then especially they show great foresight, so that they may deliver them from the diseases. And you, therefore, when it is necessary to correct a brother, even if it is necessary to give your life, do not refuse. Our Master died for us; and you, do you not even let a word escape your lips? And what [(etc.)]

^A indulgence, what defense will you have? How, I pray, will you stand with boldness before the judgment seat of Christ, you who consider the destruction of so many souls to be nothing? Would that I were allowed to know them! I would not have waited for your service, but would have corrected them as quickly as possible. Tell me, I pray: if you saw someone condemned by a just sentence being led to punishment, and were able to snatch him from the hands of the executioner, would you not do anything at all to set him free from the penalty? Seeing a brother, then, being dragged, not by an executioner, but by the devil to the pit of destruction, do you not even deign to offer counsel to snatch him from that inhuman beast? And what indulgence will you ever obtain? But he is stronger and more powerful than you! Set him plainly before my eyes; I would rather behead myself than allow him to enter the sacred vestibules. For how is it not absurd, while we introduce children with hardship and trouble to business that has indeed laborious beginnings but a useful and good end, that we should be affected in the opposite way regarding spiritual matters? Indeed, if some stranger were to come to us from elsewhere and clearly understand the matters of the Christian religion and the discipline of our life, and then the confusion of our polity, I do not know whom he would judge to be more enemies of Christ than us ourselves. For we establish the rule of our life in such a way, just as if we had decided on purpose to walk a path contrary to His commands. For since what we are commanded to do is light and easy to those who want it, ^B but what He forbids is harsh and difficult, and we do what is forbidden and neglect what is commanded: will they not say that we are fighting against Him in doing these things? But just as it is customary for the good to advise their neighbors through those means by which they themselves have become good; so the wicked are accustomed to be the authors for their neighbors of those things through which they themselves have become perverse. For their type of wickedness is one and the same; and they consider the perdition of others to be a consolation for their own punishment.

Who among you, I pray, when he has been at home, has taken a Christian book into his hands and looked through what it contains, and searched the Scripture? No one will easily be found who can say this. We shall find pebbles and dice among our neighbors, but books nowhere, or only among a few; and these are no better than those who have none, because they keep them bound and stored in boxes forever, and all their zeal is so that the parchment might be fine, and the letters elegantly formed; but none that they might read. For they have not purchased books for themselves for the sake of utility and use, but have put such zeal into them only to display their wealth and ambition; such is this ^C empty boast. For I never hear anyone being ambitious because he understands what is contained in the books, but because they are written in gold letters. That eunuch, being a barbarian and caught up in countless cares, was reading while sitting in his chariot, even though he did not understand what he was reading. But if he showed such zeal for reading even while traveling, consider how much he would have spent while he was at home. If he did not let the time he was traveling go by without reading, how much more so while he sat at home? If, when he understood nothing, he never ceased from reading, how much more so after he was imbued with the doctrine? For just as feeling hunger is a sign of good bodily health, so to hear the divine words with zeal is rightly considered the greatest proof of the health of the soul. For why do we so frequently propose questions to you, but do not bring the solution? That we may accustom you not always to take food that is pre-chewed, but that you may also bring an answer to the proposed subject. And in this matter we imitate the doves, which, as long as ^D their chicks remain in the nest, feed them with their own mouths; but when they are already able to lead them out of the nest and see that their wings are strengthened, they do not do this any longer, but carrying the grain in their mouth, they show it to them. As they wait eagerly and approach, the mothers drop the food onto the ground and advise them to gather it up for themselves. Therefore, we do the same, namely, holding spiritual nourishment in our mouth and calling you, that we might reveal the solution to you according to custom; but when you have already approached and hope to receive, we omit the words, so that you might perceive the sense by yourselves. And just as music teachers take the fingers of their students and gradually adapt them to form sounds, and instruct them to touch skillfully, that they might teach them to create a sound sweeter and more pleasant than any voice from both the mute fingers and the strings: so we also do. For just as on the lyre the strings are plucked by both the skilled artist and the unskilled; and the latter affects the hearer with annoyance, while the former soothes and delights; and the fingers and strings are the same, but the skill is not the same: so it is also in the divine Scriptures. For many indeed approach the divine utterances or oracles, but not all of them derive gain from that, nor do all receive the fruit. The cause is that they neither penetrate with their understanding what has been said, nor do they take up the lyre instructed by art. For what is skill in plucking the lyre, that is the demonstration of works in the divine laws. And just as it is not necessary to set a short and suddenly prepared table before those suffering from poor health, but it is necessary to prepare foods with zeal, so that if the sick patient does not want this, he may take another, and if he does not admit that, he may accept another, and if he rejects this, he may accept another; and in this way, by the diversity of foods, we might overcome the annoyance, and by the variously prepared table soothe the irritability of the spirit; in the same way, one must act in the spiritual banquet when we are weak, so that from many and various examples a selection of useful things might become easy for you. Therefore, do not bear my exhortation heavily, for if it is necessary to bear something indignantly

^A regarding the things said, it is rather necessary to accept and praise it. But if some are more weakly disposed and do not endure this defense of ours, I would say this to them: that I am not explaining my own laws to you, but I am reading the letters that have come down from heaven; and it is necessary for him who has been entrusted with this ministry either to say everything that is laid upon him with boldness, seeking in all things the profitable rather than the pleasant for his hearers, or, fearing the resentment of those who hear, to betray both his own and their salvation through this untimely indulgence. For that it is extremely dangerous both for him who speaks and for those who hear to conceal any of the divine laws, and that teachers are judged liable for murders when they do not explain all the judgments of God without reserve, I shall again provide Paul to you as a witness. For this reason I frequently take refuge in that holy soul for everything, because the words of Paul are certain divine oracles; for it is not Paul who speaks, but Christ moving his soul; for through him he speaks everything that he said. What then does he say? "I am pure from the blood ^B of all. For why? For I did not shrink from announcing to you the whole counsel of God" (Acts 20. 26-27). As if, had he shrunk from announcing it, he would not be pure from the blood, but would be judged as a murderer; and with good reason. For the murderer destroys the body alone and delivers it to the present death; but he who harangues for favor and makes his listeners more slothful destroys the soul, and sends it forth to immortal punishments and torments. Who then is so savage, and inhuman, and unsympathetic, as to blame him who is always speaking and discussing the wrath of God, and who is about to undergo such great punishment if he should be silent? For if I, by being silent, could conceal the sins, each one would rightly have felt resentful and indignant if I were not silent; but if, even while we are silent now, it is inevitable that the transgressions will appear there, what profit ^C could come from silence? He who looks to the benefit of the hearers, even if he praises him, is not only not worthy of being blamed, but is even worthy to be crowned; but if he is silent, then he is to be blamed. For even David, if he had been silent at the time of Goliath, would not have been allowed to go out to the battle-line, nor to set up that brilliant trophy. For this reason also I have already discussed this with you many times, and now I forewarn you, not by exhorting, but by commanding and enjoining: whoever wishes, let him hear; and whoever does not wish, let him be disobedient. For if you persist in the evils being done by you, I will not endure it, nor will I receive you, nor will I allow you to set foot on these thresholds. For what need have I of a multitude that is ill? There were twelve disciples, and hear what Christ says to them: "Do you also wish to go away?" (John 6. 68). For if we flatter throughout, when shall we recover ^D [them], when shall we benefit [them]? But, he says, "there are many sects, and they transfer to other [teachings]." Cold is this argument. "Better is one who does the will of the Lord than ten thousand lawless" (Eccles. 16. 3). And you, tell me, would you rather have ten thousand runaway slaves and thieving servants, or one well-disposed one? Let him who wishes leap away; I do not tolerate anyone. With this, give your consent. Until when? Until when? Once, and twice, and three times; not throughout! Behold, I testify again and protest according to the blessed Paul, that "if I come again, I will not spare" (2 Cor. 13. 2). For when I am about to be judged before the judgment seat of Christ, you too will stand far off, and the indulgence from you, while I have to render account.

and I shall be judged, you also shall stand far off and grace shall be yours, while I render an account. It is better, therefore, that those who offend be stung by the pain of words, so that they may be freed from the turpitude of their deeds. I am not ignorant that we are all in some way worthy of reproof, and that no one of us can boast that he has a clean heart; but this is not such a great evil, that we do not have a clean heart, but rather that, not having it, we do not betake ourselves to Him who is able to make it clean. I know that these words bite; but what am I to do? If we do not apply bitter medicines, wounds will not be removed; and if we do apply them, you do not endure the pain. ^B I am in distress on every side. But it is necessary to check my hand now: for what has been said is sufficient for the correction of those who obey. But if we persevere in being unimprovable, we shall be delivered into the very hands of the living God: how terrible it is, indeed, to fall into the hands of the living God, is sufficiently known to you. And indeed, he who has achieved nothing at all correctly is entirely sluggish and easily desponds in spirit; but he who is conscious to himself that he has fulfilled even one commandment, is filled with good hope from it and proceeds with greater zeal to the rest; and having added another, he progresses to yet another. ^C For if in the matter of riches it holds that the more one has accumulated, the more he always covets, everyone will observe that this happens much more in spiritual matters. Therefore, I pray and beseech you that you not only remember these words of mine on this present day, but also at home, and in the marketplace, and wherever you may happen to be. Would that it were possible for me to be always present with you, and then there would be no need of this long reprimand! But since that cannot be, let my words remain in your memory in my place: and when you sit at table, consider me to be entering to you, and, standing by you, inculcating what I am now saying here. Wherever there is talk of me among you, remember above all this commandment, and give me this as a return for my love for you. And I urge this not only on those who provoke others with curses, but also on those who hear others gossiping, that they should diligently guard their ears and imitate the prophet who says: "Him that privily slandered his neighbour, him I pursued" (Ps. C, 5). And say to the slanderer: "If indeed you were minded to praise and commend someone, I would open my ears and gladly embrace your discourse: but if you wish to vituperate, I bar the approach to your words; for I cannot receive trash and filth." For what profit would it be to me to hear that such and such a person is wicked? Nay, rather, most grievous damage and supreme calamity arises from it. ^D For what excuse or pardon shall we have if, not considering our own affairs in the least, we so anxiously inquire and curiously scrutinize those of others? It is better, in any case, to be ignorant of good things than to learn bad ones. For he who does not know the cause at all, can more quickly arrive at the likely cause: but another, because he does not know the true cause, while he feigns for himself another which is not true, will not easily be able to grasp the truth; but he has need of greater labor and sweat to remove the former from his mind. If by chance you see someone preparing sacred vessels, or another decorating the church walls and pavement; do not order that which is already nearly prepared to be sold or destroyed, lest you render the very promptness of his soul maimed and mutilated: but if anyone asks you before he has prepared it, you might advise him to bestow it upon the poor. Despise the delights of this life, as being non-permanent; and likewise the sad things, as being such as do not harm us at all. For just as those who reside in a foreign region do everything and exert themselves to prepare a happy return to their homeland, and are anxious day by day to see their fatherland: so he who embraces future goods with love will neither be depressed by the troubles of the present life, nor puffed up by its comforts, but will pass through both like a traveler. Thus, therefore, it behooves us to be affected: and although it may happen that we live here for few years, they ought all to seem to us many, because of the desire for things to come. I say these things not because I disparage this present life; far from it; for this itself is a certain work of God; but that I may excite you to the love of future things, so that you may not cling to present things with too much affection; or, being fixed to bodies, be affected like the ignoble mob, who, even if they were to live for infinite years, would still say they are few: to whom what could be more insane? Since, having put aside heaven and heavenly goods, which "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard," they pant after shadows; and while they are exercised by constant waves, storms, and shipwrecks, they still do not want to cross the strait of this present life. But the blessed Paul was not like that; but he was hastening and struggling, and one thing alone held him, namely the salvation of men, and that they should not fall from the kingdom of God. Which may it befall us all to attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY VII

When sin is coupled with humility of soul, it runs expeditiously, so that it overtakes and gets ahead of the righteousness which is with arrogance: but if you couple it with righteousness, where will it not escape? How many heavens will it be able to pass through? It will stand clearly before the very tribunal of God, in the midst of angels, with great confidence. For if those who confess their own sins acquire such confidence for themselves: what crowns will they not obtain who, even though they are conscious of many good deeds, still humble their own soul? Therefore, although you have constructed innumerable things above, alms, or prayers, or fastings, or every virtue; unless you have laid this as a foundation, all things will be superstructed in vain and to no purpose. For there is nothing, nothing in our good deeds that can stand without it; but whether you speak of temperance, or virginity, or contempt of wealth, or whatsoever you please, all are impure, detestable, and abominable, if humility is absent. For since those who know good things, yet humble their soul, of what crowns will they not be worthy? Therefore, even if you have done ten thousand good deeds, even prayers, even fastings, even every virtue, if you have not first cast it down, all will be in vain and built to no purpose. There is nothing, nothing in our good deeds which can stand without it: but even if you possess temperance, even if you possess contempt of wealth, even if anything whatsoever, all are impure and unclean and loathsome, if humility is absent. For since

^A God fashioned us from two substances, so that when you are lifted up into arrogance, the baseness of the flesh may restrain you; but when you consider something unworthy and ignoble in the honor given to you by God, the nobility of the soul might lead you to the zeal for the heavenly powers. For it is a great good to consider one’s own kinship, and to know from whence we consist. For this teaching is sufficient—the consideration of nature—being able to restrain all passions, and to produce peace in the mind. Reflect upon your nature and your construction, and this is enough for you to be restrained continually. Adam was formed from the earth, but he did not see how he was formed; for it was not fitting that he should be present as a witness of what was happening, ^B so that he might not be lifted up against God. For if, being clothed with such great humility, he is lifted up, and ignores the One who created him, and disregards the One who formed him—if he had received what is above his nature, who would have contained the immoderation of his pride? For this reason, God, having formed man, placed great powers and many humilities into the creature, so that by the power placed within, the grace of the Craftsman might be admired, and by the humility, human pride might be restrained. He gave him a tongue that speaks, praising God, chanting divine things, interpreting the beauties of creation. The tongue is a small bit of flesh that discourses about heaven and earth, not having the measure of two fingers—and what do I say of fingers? Not even of a nail's tip! But that small tip speaks of heaven and earth. And so that he might not think that it is something great, and be lifted up above its own nature, often boils and wounds are wrapped about it, ^C so that it may learn that, being mortal, it speaks of immortal things, and ought to know what is the power of the One being proclaimed, and what is the weakness of the one proclaiming. He gave him the eye—that small grain—and through it he beholds the whole of creation. And so that he might not be lifted up by encompassing all of creation with his sight, often inflammations and rheum and tears and all that clouds the vision occur; so that from his weakness he may know himself, and from the creation he may deify the Craftsman. If, therefore, man, carrying about such weakness, forgets his own baseness to such an extent as to even act insolently against the Creator; if he were entirely rid of this weakness, who would have endured him being lifted up? Consider, O man, with whom you associate, while swelling and being lifted up into arrogance, and being ashamed of the service of a stranger. And how could this happen, he says? ^D For if someone were noble and illustrious and brilliant and distinguished, would he himself wash the feet of a stranger? And how is that not shameful? Indeed, it is rather shameful not to wash them. For even if you exalt his nobility and illustriousness and brilliance a thousand times, he shares the same nature with him who is being washed, and is a fellow servant with the one being served and is of equal rank. Consider who it was that washed the disciples' feet, and stop discoursing about nobility. For not to think great things about one's possessions is profitable not only for the future, but also for the present. For there is nothing so inviting envy as a man who is wealthy; and when arrogance is added to this, the precipice becomes double. But he who knows how to be moderate cuts off the tyranny of envy with humility, and holds what he holds with safety; such is the magnitude of this. For it profits us not only for the future, but also gives the rewards from here already. Let us not, therefore, think great things about wealth, nor about anything else. For if one who thinks great things about spiritual matters is lost and destroyed, much more so one who does so about carnal matters. Let us consider our nature, let us reflect upon our sins, let us learn who we are, and this is enough for us as a premise for all humility. For this one is truly one who knows himself, he who considers himself to be nothing. For there is nothing so dear to God as to count oneself among the lowest. "For come," He says, "learn from me, for I am meek and humble in heart" (Matt. 11. 29). For if I were not meek, as Son of the King, would I have chosen a handmaiden for a mother? If I were not meek, would I, the Creator of the invisible and visible substance, have sojourned among you? If I were not meek, would I have received the poverty of the manger, I who possess the wealth of the whole of creation? If I were not meek, would I have offered my back to the scourges for the sake of captives? What more? I do not say the greater thing; if I were not meek, when others owed the suffering, would I, who owed nothing, have paid the debt of death for their sake? Thus am I meek, because you sinned, and I was scourged; thus am I humble, because I am not ashamed to entreat my own servants, but I choose to exhort them, so that I may not be forced to punish. When, therefore, you come to the thought of admiring yourself for humility, consider your Master, to where He descended, and you will no longer admire yourself nor praise yourself, but you will even laugh at yourself, as having done nothing. You are humble, and more humble than all men? Do not think great things because of this, nor reproach others, and you will lose your boast. You are humble for this reason, that you might be rid of arrogance; if, therefore, through it you fall into arrogance, it is better not to be humble. But if anyone should say that it is better to be lifted up while succeeding, than to be humbled while falling, he is very ignorant of the damage of arrogance, and the profit of humility. For know clearly that a man who succeeds with arrogance—if indeed this is succeeding at all—will quickly fall into the final destruction. And he who is allowed to slip, and has learned to be moderate from the fall, will both rise and recover himself the sooner, if he should wish; but he who thinks he is doing well with arrogance, and suffers nothing terrible, will never receive a sensation of his own lawlessness, but will even increase the terrible thing, and will fail, departing empty from these things. And why, he says, do those who walk in the right way before temptations, often fall after temptations? Who then perfectly knows those who walk the right way, except the One who alone fashioned our hearts, and understands all our works? For many, in the eyes of those who seem to us to be good, are more wicked than all. But in order that, leaving such ones, we may come in our discourse to those who are truly living rightly, who knows if the rest of their affairs are set right, but the head of goods, humility, is neglected? And for this reason God left them, so that they might learn that not by their own power

but by the grace of God they achieved those things. For modesty is so named, not when someone suffers injury from the powerful and bears it calmly, but when one yields even after being harmed by those who seem to be one’s inferiors. See, then, the kindness of God and the kind of care He shows for His servants. For when ^A Isaac was unjustly driven from his own labors by the king of the Gerarites and the local inhabitants, he was not indignant, nor did he show himself fainthearted, nor did he cry out within himself, nor did he say: "Do I not have the right to enjoy the wells? Have I been left without help from above? Have I been deprived of the Lord’s providence?" He thought nothing of the sort, nor did he reason thus, but he bore everything with moderation; and for this reason he obtained even more honor and help from above. For the Lord appeared to him on that night and said: "I am the God of Abraham your father: do not fear; for I am with you and will bless you" (Gen. 26:24). ^B Wishing to revive the just man and give him confidence, He appears to him and says: "I am the God who made your father glorious, and established him in such great brightness, and made the stranger seem more splendid than the natives; I am He who caused him to grow to this extent. Do not fear, therefore, for I am with you, and I will multiply your seed for the sake of Abraham your father; for I owe him many rewards for his obedience to me." When that just man heard these things, he became of good cheer thereafter. For He who said, "I am with you," and "I will bless you and multiply your seed," He also bestowed the splendor. See how great the power of humility is: for they who had previously harassed him, now coming to the just man, not only excuse themselves for what they had already done and ask for forgiveness, but even celebrate him with praises. ^C For who could be stronger than he who had God with him? "For we have seen," they say, "that the Lord is with you." But let us see how his son Jacob also makes a pilgrimage while suffering persecution; for we shall reap no small profit from this as well. "For as he was setting out for Charan, the sun was setting; and he took from the stones of that place and put them at his head and slept" (Gen. 28:11). Do you see ineffable philosophy? Do you see how the ancients went on their travels? A man brought up at home with great indulgence took a stone and placed it under his head. See the virile spirit of the boy: he used a stone for a pillow and slept on the ground; and for this reason he is deemed worthy of the sight of the Lord. And He says: ^D "I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac your father" (Ib. v. 13). I raised both that prince of the race and this, your father, to such great brightness. Do not fear, therefore, but believe that I am He who fulfilled the promises to them, and I will deem you, too, worthy of my providence. "But I am now with you, keeping you on the way, wherever you go." Do not think, He says, that you are making the journey alone: you will have Me as a companion, you will have Me as a guardian on every journey; for I am with you. If, therefore, you wish to make your good deeds great, do not think them to be great, but confess that you are saved by grace, so that you may make God a debtor to yourself, not only of good deeds but also of such gratitude. For when we act rightly, we have Him as a debtor only for good works; but when we think we have done nothing good, then we do so even for the fact that we are so disposed, and much more than for those other works. If, therefore, you wish to be humble, do not show this virtue by words or appearance only, but by deed and voice; and do not be humble toward this person, yet arrogant toward that one, but humble toward all, whether friend or foe, whether great or small; for this is humility of spirit. For it happens that some are humble, and yet at the same time are easily irritated and irascible; but there is no profit in this: for often, overcome by anger, one has lost everything. But one may best learn true humility of spirit by noticing the following. When Jesus had come to Capernaum, they who received the didrachma came to Peter and said: "Your teacher does not pay the didrachma" (Matth. 17:24). See, they did not dare to approach Christ Himself, but Peter; and not even him with much vehemence, but more modestly. For they were speaking not in expostulation, but in questioning: "Your teacher does not pay the didrachma?" For they did not yet have the fitting opinion of Him, but felt as though He were a man; yet they showed some reverence and honor because of the preceding signs. What then, Peter? "Yes," he says (Ib. v. 24). And he said this to them, but did not say it to Him; perhaps because he was ashamed to approach Him about these things. What then, does God, who knows all things perfectly, do? Anticipating him, He says: "What do you think, Simon? The kings of the earth, from whom do they take tribute or tax? From their sons, or from strangers?" "From strangers," he says. Jesus says to him: "Therefore the sons are free" (Ib. v. 25). For so that Peter might not think that He was saying these things because He had heard them from the others, He anticipated him, saying this to reveal the same thing, and then to give him confidence who was previously hesitating to speak about these matters. The meaning of what He says is this: I am indeed free from paying tax; for if the kings of the earth do not take from their sons, but from their subjects, much more must I be free from this exaction, since I am not the son of a worldly king, but the Son of the heavenly King. And when He had said these things, He says: "But that we may not give offense to them, go to the sea, cast a hook, and take the first fish that comes up, and you will find a stater in its mouth; taking that, give it to them for Me and for you" (Ib. v. 26). See how He does not refuse the tribute, nor order it to be given simply; but after having shown that He ought not, only then does He give: doing the former so that they might not be offended, and the latter so that they might not be. For He does not give as one who is in debt, but as correcting their infirmity. But why does He not order it to be given from the store? That in this, too, He might show Himself to be the God of all, and that He rules the sea. For it was no small thing to predict that the first fish would fall into the trap from those depths to pay the tribute, and at His command, as if a net had been cast into that deep, to bring forth the one that carried the stater, and to cause the sea to bring gifts, and from all sides show its subjection to Him. If, therefore, you wish to show your good deed, do not think magnificently of yourself, and then you have made this greater. For if, when we are sinners, and we think that we are what we are, we are made just, like the publican: how much more when we are just, and we consider ourselves to be sinners?

if you call yourself upright, you have become useless, even if you are upright; but if you name yourself useless, you have become useful, even if you are unproven. For as God knows how ^A to oppose the proud, so He knows how to give grace to the humble; for to Him belongs glory and power, unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY VIII. On the Soul.

Those who are adorned with good works, but are ignorant of the faith in God, appear like the remains of the dead, which, though beautifully clothed, have no sense of the beautiful. For what profit is it to a man to have a dead soul, yet clothed in good works? Works are for the sake of the hope of reward and crowns; but if you are ignorant of the Judge, for whom do you struggle? For just as with men, living must precede eating, so also must the hope in Christ precede our life, and then we must be nourished by good works. For he who does not eat may still live for much time; but he who does not live cannot be nourished. And without faith, you cannot show that he who does works of righteousness has truly lived; but without works, I can show a believer who has lived and been deemed worthy of the kingdom. No one has lived without faith; but the robber, having only believed, was made righteous. Do not say to me, "He had no time for a way of life"; for if he had survived after his faith and neglected works, he would have fallen from salvation. Cornelius was also attested for alms and prayers, but he was ignorant of Christ; and because the eye of truth, the great Judge, saw that while the works were beautiful, they were dead as they lacked faith, He sends an angel to award the works, so that he who was struggling well might be crowned by faith, as He says to him: "Cornelius, your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God" (Acts 10:4). If, therefore, the prayer was heard, and the alms were accepted, what was lacking for me unto righteousness? "But send," He says, "to Joppa, and call for Simon surnamed Peter; who coming shall speak ^B words to you, by which you shall be saved, you and all your house" (Acts 11:13-14). If, therefore, from what Peter says, he and his house are saved, he did not yet have salvation from the works until faith awarded it to his works. It is said that one of the philosophers from abroad entered a brilliant house, one flashing with much gold and gleaming with the beauty of marbles and columns; and when he saw the floor covered with carpets everywhere, he spat in the face of the master of the house; and then, being accused, he said that because there was nowhere else in the house that it was permitted to do this, he was compelled to insult his face. Do you see how ridiculous he is who adorns the exterior, and is despised by all who have sense? And very rightly so. For when you adorn the walls and the floor and everything else, but neglect the soul, leaving it to walk in rags, filthy, hungry, full of wounds, and torn apart by ten thousand ^C dogs—what punishment, tell me, will you not endure? For if you lose money, you can give other money, and for a house, or slaves, or any other of your possessions; but if you lose your soul, you cannot provide another soul in its place; no, even if you had the whole world, or were king of the world, you would not be able, by casting everything of the world down with the world itself, to buy one soul. For if with the body, even if you be clothed in ten thousand diadems, you have a body that is naturally sickly and incurable, you cannot, even if you offer the whole kingdom, correct that body, even if you add ten thousand bodies and cities and riches; how much more so with the soul? God has given us everything doubled in our nature: two eyes, two ears, two hands, two feet; so that if one of these should be harmed, we may comfort our need through the other; but He has given us ^D one soul; if we should lose this, with whom shall we live? For a soul, once captured by avarice, will not easily nor readily decline to do and say some of the things that provoke God, inasmuch as it has become the slave of another master, and one that orders all things in opposition to God. A soul, once it has despaired of its own salvation, nowhere desists from its madness, but having given the reins of its salvation to irrational desires, it is carried everywhere, and is unbearable to those it meets, while all flee from it, and no one dares to restrain it; but it runs down all the regions of wickedness, until, carrying itself into the very pits of destruction, it casts down its own salvation. A soul once having made a compact with sin, and having become insensitive, provides much additional matter for the disease. For just as one who wallows in mire takes pleasure in it, so also a soul covered by evil habit does not even perceive the stench of its sins; and just as it is impossible for the earth that is not watered, even if one sows ten thousand seeds, to produce ears of corn, so it is impossible for a soul that has not first been illuminated by the divine Scriptures, even if one pours out ten thousand teachings, to show any fruit. And just as land, when it is not sown nor planted, produces weeds of its own accord; so also the soul, when it does not have some of the necessary things to do—since it cannot be idle, and is altogether desiring to be doing—gives itself over to wicked deeds. For just as there is inflammation in bodies, so there is recklessness in the soul; and then from recklessness, desire for what is unbecoming tends to follow. And just as in bodies those who have neglected their wounds have brought forth fevers and putrefaction and death; so also in souls those who despise small sins introduce greater ones. For this reason God gave us the body from the earth, so that we might lead even it up to heaven, not that through it we might drag the soul down to the earth. O what a wonder! How all are intent upon present things, and never take thought of those to come; but

[LATIN COLUMN]

to the body, even if some disease happens to invade it, both to call physicians, and to expend money, and to show endurance, and not to cease doing everything until we have removed that which afflicts us; yet when the soul is pricked, cast down, and in every way ruins itself daily, we do not have even a brief word to say? For it is not the one who merely has a festering sore who ought to be lamented, but the one who lies there carelessly, and does not obtain the physician’s hands. But the one who is cut and cauterized, we would say he is the one who is most of all moving toward health, not looking at the pain that arises from the cutting, but at the health that follows the pain. Thus, regarding the soul, we ought to be affected: it is not those who pay the penalty who should be mourned and bewailed—for they are being dragged toward health—but those who sin with impunity. For he who expects good and is confident about the things to come has already tasted the kingdom; for nothing is accustomed to refresh the soul and make it more excellent as the hope of good things to come. For those who exhaust all their zeal on the adornment of their own homes, while being rich in exterior things, neglect the interior, and despise their own soul, desolate, squalid, and full of spiderwebs. But if, having neglected exterior things, they were to expend all their diligence upon the mind, adorning it on all sides with accuracy, the soul of such men would be a dwelling place for Christ. And what could be more blessed than the one who has Christ as an inhabitant? What defense, then, shall we have, or what pardon, when we take such great care of a sickly body, where money must be spent, and physicians must be summoned, and great pain must be endured—but we neglect the soul, especially when we are not about to spend money, nor to cause trouble for others, nor to undergo pains, but are able to correct ourselves entirely by choice and will alone, knowing accurately that if we do not do this, we are about to pay the ultimate penalty and suffer inexorable punishments and torments? And just as those who inhabit a prison are always in anxiety and pain, but most of all on that day when they are to be brought out and led to the very doors of the judge; and standing before the railings, and hearing the voice of the judge within, they tremble and are in no better condition than the dead: so also is the soul, for it is indeed especially afflicted and pressed at the very time of transgression, but much more so when, having been torn from this place, it is to be led away to render accounts there and to that terrible judgment. Therefore it often recoils and draws back, it fears and shudders, when it is about to depart from the flesh. For then, whether one has stolen, or seized the goods of others, or harassed others, or has been the unjust enemy of anyone, or has committed any other evil, the whole chorus 488 of sins is renewed, and stands before one's eyes, and the bitter accuser of conscience stands there. And for this reason we have obtained an immortal soul, and the body itself will be immortal, so that we may enjoy infinite blessings. But if you are fixed to the earth, when heavenly things are proposed, consider how great an insult arises from this against the One who bestows them, when He indeed offers you heavenly things, but you, not holding them in high regard, exchange heaven for the earth. May we all attain these things, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY IX. On not neglecting the Church of God and the holy mysteries.

Very few are present with us today. What is the cause? We are celebrating the memory of the martyrs, and no one rushes to us. But the length of the road has cast them into sluggishness? Rather, it was not the length of the road, but sluggishness that hindered them. For just as nothing can restrain one who is zealous and endowed with an excited spirit, so all things can delay the sluggish and the slothful. The martyrs poured out their own blood for the truth, and can you not count even the length of a short road as nothing? They laid down their heads because of Christ: you, however, do not wish to rush even a small distance because of the Lord? The Lord died for your sake, and do you hesitate for His sake? The memory of the martyrs is being celebrated, and you lie there sluggish and supine? It is just that you should be present and see the devil being defeated, and the martyr being victorious, and God being glorified, and the Church being crowned. "But I am a sinner," some one will say, "and I cannot attend." Since you are a sinner, run back, so that you may become righteous. Who, indeed, among men is without sin, tell me? Do you not know that even those who sit at the altar are beset by sins? For they are clothed in flesh and implicated in a body: as we ourselves also, who sit upon the throne and teach, are implicated in sins; but we do not despair of divine loving-kindness, nor do we attribute cruelty to God. For this very reason God provided that even the priests themselves should be subject to passions, so that from the things which they themselves suffer, they might learn to forgive others also. Therefore, of how great madness and absurdity would it not be that, when we indeed run zealously when a harpist, or a dancer, or some other such person invites us, and we render thanks to him...

for the invitation, and spend half of the whole day giving heed to him alone; yet when God speaks to us through prophets and apostles, we yawn, we scratch ourselves, and we feel dizzy? And in the horse races, with no roof overhead to keep off the rain, and even when many downpours are descending and the wind is blowing the water into our faces, the majority stand there like madmen, and they despise the cold and the rain and the length of the journey, and nothing keeps them at home, nor prevents them from going there; but for us, in order to go to church, the rain and the mud become an impediment. And if they are asked who is Amos or Obadiah, or what is the number of the prophets or the apostles, they cannot even open their mouths, but they construct defenses more cleverly than those for horses and charioteers, for sophists and for orators. And how is this tolerable, tell me? I have exhorted you often not to go up to the theatre. You heard, you were not persuaded; you went up to the theatre, you disregarded my word; do not be ashamed to enter again and listen. You say, "I listened, and I did not observe it; how can I enter and listen?" So far you know this very thing, that you did not observe it, so far you are ashamed, so far you blush, so far you apply the bridle even though no one is convicting you, so far you keep my word rooted in you, so far, even though I am not appearing, my teaching is correcting you. You did not observe it? Enter all the more, so that having listened again you might observe it. If a medicine is applied to you, and it does not cleanse you, do you not apply it again on the next day? Let there be a woodcutter, O man, and let him wish to cut down wood; he takes an axe, then he strikes the root; if he gives one blow, and the tree does not fall, does he not give another blow, and a fourth, and a fifth, and a tenth? Do you do likewise. I say these things, not that I may render you more slothful, but that I may make you more zealous. You have entered into the church, O man, you have been deemed worthy of the fellowship of Christ; if you are not dismissed, do not depart. For if you leave before the dismissal, you are held accountable like a runaway slave. Do you spend the whole day on bodily matters, and do you not have time for two hours on spiritual things? You often go to the theatre, and you do not leave until the dismissal; and do you enter into the church, and leave before the divine mysteries? Fear Him who said: *He that depises a thing, shall be despised by it* (Prov. 13: 13). ^B Indeed, you do not dare to smile at all when standing before a king; but when standing before the Lord of all, do you not stand with fear and trembling, but instead often laugh when He is angry? Do you not understand that by this you provoke Him more greatly on account of your sins? For God is not accustomed to turn away from those who sin as much as from those who do not show humility after the sin. What are you doing, O man? Standing in church, are you intently gazing at the beauty of women, and do you not shudder at thus insulting the temple of God? Does the church seem to you to be a brothel and more dishonorable than the marketplace? For in the marketplace you fear and are ashamed to be seen ogling a woman; but in the temple of God, at the very time when He is speaking to you and threatening you about these things, at the very moment when you hear not to do these things, do you not shudder, nor are you distraught, while making your heart and your eyes a workshop of lawlessness? It would be better for such men to be blind than to use their eyes for these things. Consider whose neighbor you are standing, in the holy and fearful mystery, O man; with whom you are about to call upon God: with the Cherubim, with the Seraphim, and with the other heavenly powers. Reflect upon who your fellow-dancers are; this is sufficient for your sobriety, when you consider that, clothed in a body and entangled ^C with flesh, you have been deemed worthy to hymn the common Lord of all with the bodiless powers. Do not, therefore, participate in those holy and mystical hymns with a relaxed spirit; do not have worldly thoughts at that time; but having banished all earthly things from your mind and having moved your whole self toward heaven, as if standing near the throne of glory itself, and flying with the Seraphim, thus bring the all-holy hymn to God. For on account of this we are commanded to stand well at the time of the divine mystery, so that we may straighten the thoughts that are being dragged along the ground, so that having cast out the slackness resulting from our worldly affairs, we might be able to raise our soul upright before God. For He is not speaking of the hands and knees of the body; nor is He discoursing to runners or wrestlers; but He exhorts us to raise up the strength of our inner thoughts, having been cast down by temptations. For at the time of the divine gathering, brothers, not only do men shout that most fearful cry, but even angels fall down before the Lord, and archangels plead; for they have the time as their ally, and the offering as their help. And just as men having cut down branches of olive trees shake them before kings, reminding them through the plant of mercy and philanthropy; so also the angels then, instead of olive branches, tendering the very body of the Lord, beseech the Lord on behalf of human nature, ^D saying almost exactly that we make these entreaties on behalf of those whom You Yourself deemed worthy to love so much that You gave Your own soul; on behalf of these we pour out entreaties, on behalf of whom You poured out Your blood; on behalf of these we plead, on behalf of whom You sacrificed this body. Let each one therefore reflect with himself what fault he has corrected, what good work he has acquired, what sin he has washed away, in what he has become better; and if he finds that something more has come to him from the fasting for this noble trade, and perceives that he has taken much care of his wounds, let him approach; but if he has remained neglected, having only fasting to show, and having accomplished none of the others, let him remain outside, and then let him enter, when he has cleansed all his sins. For it is reasonable that he who does not fast might obtain pardon, by pleading bodily weakness; but it is impossible for the one who has not corrected his own transgressions to obtain an excuse. For if God shall demand an account of the slothfulness in the assemblies, what shall we do? For you know indeed this, that often when He is speaking to us all through the prophet, we carry on many and long conversations with those near us about matters that are of no concern to us. If, therefore, passing over all other things, He should wish to demand of us the penalty for this sin, what hope of salvation shall there be for us? For surely it is not a small...

sin that you should think to slight. If you wish to perceive its magnitude, examine this very thing in the case of men, and then you will see the greatness of the absurdity. If a prince—or indeed even a friend who is somewhat more august—were speaking to you, would you dare to leave him and converse with a slave of yours? And then you will see what a crime you dare to commit, doing this before God. For if that one is someone of the more illustrious, he can even exact penalties from you for the indignity offered; but God, who is affected by so many and much greater injuries every single day, and that not by one or two or three men, but by almost all of us, endures and bears it patiently. And when you wish to appease the wrath of an earthly king, you all run together with your children and wives, and frequently you snatch the condemned criminal from the king’s wrath; yet when you are about to render the heavenly King propitious, and to deliver from His wrath not one, nor two, nor three, nor a hundred, but all the sinners in the world, you sit idle, and do not all run together in a common cause, so that God, reverencing your harmony, might remit both the punishment to them and grant to you forgiveness of sins? For if you were in the forum at that time, or at home, or engaged in unavoidable business, would you not, more vehemently than any lion, having broken all bonds, flee to the common supplication? and what hope of salvation will you have? For what could be more powerful than the Church of God? ^A Do not speak to me of walls and arms; walls grow old with time, but the Church never grows old: barbarians destroy walls, but not even demons overcome the Church. And that these things are not said for empty show, the facts themselves attest. How many have fought against the Church! and they themselves indeed who fought have perished, but it has ascended above the heavens. The Church is endowed with such magnitude: when it is fought against, it wins; when it is plotted against, it overcomes; when it is afflicted with injury, it becomes more splendid. You know that day when arms were moved against us, and military fury was more cruel than a fire, and we were being led away to the royal palaces, and we were made a spectacle for the whole world? But through divine grace, nothing of those things rendered us astonished and dismayed. Why? Because there is no evil in present things. For what is grave? Is it death? But this is no evil: we are immediately setting out for the harbor. Is it the confiscation of goods? I went out naked, and naked I shall return (Job I, 21). Is it exile? The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof (Ps. XXIII, 1). Is it calumny? Rejoice when they shall speak any evil word against you, because your reward is great in the heavens (Matt. V, 12). For even if I were led away, that matter was not a reproach to me: for only sin is a reproach; even if the whole world defames you, but you have not defamed yourself, you are not defamed. Only the betrayal of conscience is a scandal; do not let your conscience betray you, and no one will betray you. I was being led back, and I was watching the works, or rather my words becoming works; and that what I spoke with you in words, was being proclaimed by works in the forum.

I would wish, therefore, to know where those spend their time who have neglected the communion, and who abstain from this holy table. ^B But truly I know well: they are either conversing about absurd and ridiculous things, or they are fixed to the cares of this life; yet the pursuit of both lacks excuse and deserves extreme punishment. And regarding the former, there is no need for words or demonstration; but that neither can those obtain pardon who pretend to us the necessity arising from household and unbearable matters; because they do not value spiritual things more than earthly, is manifest to anyone. For what slave, I ask, will ever take care of his domestic business, before he has fulfilled his master’s service? How, therefore, is it not absurd, among men indeed, where the position of master is a bare title, to show such reverence and obedience to masters; but to Him who is Lord not only of us, but also of the heavenly Powers, not to show the service that we deign to show even to our fellow-slaves? I wish it were possible that I could show you their soul with your eyes, and that you might see it filthy, squalid, ruined, dejected, and faithless. For just as bodies which do not enjoy baths are full of much squalor and filth, so the soul also, which does not enjoy spiritual doctrine, has many stains clinging to it from sins. ^C I wish it were possible that we could open the hearts of those who abstain from the communion! I wish you could penetrate into their conscience! Then indeed you would see with how many wounds they are filled, how many thorns they have. For just as the ground, unless it is cultivated by the hands of farmers, becomes horrible and overgrown with woods: so the soul also, deprived of spiritual doctrine, produces thorns and thistles. For if we, who are daily partakers of the hearing of the prophets and apostles, and sing constant songs from the divine Scriptures to our affections, still with difficulty restrain our boiling spirit, with difficulty curb our anger, with difficulty cast out the venom of envy, with difficulty calm our concupiscence, with difficulty restrain our shameless beasts: what hope of salvation will those have who never attain this medicine, and do not listen to divine doctrine? For just as one who has exited the harbor wanders everywhere; and one who lacks light strikes against many things: so also, one who falls into forgetfulness of the fear of God is given over continually to solicitudes and cares and pains. And as when God protects us and is with us, sad things are removed from the midst: so when He departs, and commits us to oblivion, both the soul is torn apart, and the heart is tortured with pain, and the ones causing sorrow insult; so that the slothful, while they are bitten by all, might return with greater zeal to where they have fallen from. For your apostasy will correct you, He says, and your wickedness will rebuke you (Jer. II, 19). Therefore, even the dereliction is a kind of divine providence. For when He who provides and foresees is contemned, He lets go a little and abandons, so that then, having cast off sloth, those who were negligent may become more diligent. ^D I suppose that many of those who have long ago deserted us, and have fled to the spectacles of iniquity, are present today; and I would have wished to know them for certain, so that I might cast them out of the holy thresholds, not so that they remain outside continually,

but so that they might be corrected and return again. For shepherds do this too; they separate the sheep full of mange from the healthy ones, so that, having put off the sickness, they might again return with safety to the healthy ones, and not, by being sick, fill the whole flock with that sickness. ^B For this reason, we also wished to know them; but even if we cannot distinguish them with our eyes, the word will surely recognize them, and, by taking hold of their conscience, will easily persuade them of their own free will to withdraw; teaching that he alone is within who provides a mind worthy of the conversation here. For he who participates in this holy assembly with a corrupted life, even if he brings his body here, has been cast out, and is driven away further than those who are locked out and are unable to participate in the holy table. For those who are cast out according to the laws of God and remain outside have, meanwhile, good hopes, and if they will to correct their transgressions, they will be able to return again with a pure conscience through the Church from which they fell; but those who have defiled themselves, and have been commanded not to enter before they have cleansed the stain from their sins, then act shamelessly, they make their wound more grievous; for sinning is not so grievous as the shamelessness after the sin. Many participate in the mysteries once a year, others twice, others often. Whom, then, of these shall we accept—those once, or those often, or those ^C rarely? Neither those once, nor those often, nor those rarely, but those with a pure conscience, those with a pure heart, those with a life beyond reproach. Such people should always approach; but those who are not such, not even once; for they receive judgment and condemnation upon themselves. For just as food, being nutritional by nature, if it falls upon one with a bad stomach, destroys and corrupts everything, and becomes a cause of sickness, so too do the awesome mysteries. You enjoy a spiritual table, a royal table, and again you defile your body with mud? You anoint it with myrrh, and again you fill it with a stench? Do you think that after a year of participation it suffices you for the cleansing of the sins of the whole time, and again, after a week has passed, you surrender yourself to the same things as before? Tell me, then: if, having been healed from a long sickness for forty days, you again surrender yourself to those illness-causing things, have you not also wasted your former labor? If, then, physical things are changed, much more so are those of the moral choice. And if your mouth smells, you do not even partake of common food; but such a stench being in the soul, you dare to participate in the mysteries, tell me? And what forgiveness will you obtain? For the divine Apostle says: *He who eats and drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily, eats and drinks judgment to himself*; that is, he will pay the same penalty as the punishment that those who crucified Christ will endure. Just as those slayers became guilty of the blood, so too these who participate unworthily in the mysteries. For just as if someone tears the royal purple, or stains it with mud, he has similarly insulted the king who put it on; so too here, both those who destroyed the Lord’s body and those who receive it with an unclean mind, similarly commit outrage against the royal garment. The Jews, therefore, tore it by the cross, but he who receives it with an unclean soul also defiles it. ^D So that even if the transgressions are different, the outrages are equal. This touched many, this troubled many, it bit the conscience of the hearers, or rather, not only of the hearers, but of me who was speaking, before you. For common is the teaching, common the wounds; therefore, common are the remedies that I apply. This was done as a work of God’s love for mankind, so that both the speaker and the hearers are subject to the same laws, participate in the same nature, and are each in the same way liable if they transgress. Why? So that the rebuke might be made with moderation; so that he might be compassionate toward those who sin; so that, remembering his own weakness, he might not make the rebuke unbearable. If, therefore, you see one of those mingling with you committing fornication, and approaching the mysteries, tell the one who is administering their distribution. "So-and-so is unworthy of the mysteries; withhold the profane from the holy." For if such a one is not worthy to declare the ordinances of God, consider what the things of punishment will be for him, when he also touches the holy table; not for him alone, but also for you who are covering for him. For it did not say, "And you were committing adultery," but, *With the adulterer you were placing your portion* (Ps. 49:18). Oh, how great an evil it is to cloak the corruptions of others! For he says you are a partner in the punishment for the offense; and rightly so. For the one can say he has the passion, even if the excuse is unpardonable; but you do not even have this. Why, then, not enjoying the pleasure, do you become a partner and participant in the punishment? Do not speak to me that saying, full of much insensibility: "What is it to me? I care for my own affairs." For then you will most truly care for your own affairs, when you seek your own in the neighbor’s advantage; just as Paul also was saying, *Let no man seek his own, so that he may find his own* (1 Cor. 10:24). For when he who has sinned sees everyone turning away from him, he will consider he has done something great and evil; but if he sees them not only not indignant nor distressed, but also bearing it gently and assisting, he also corrupts the tribunal of the conscience, the vote of the many cooperating with his corrupted mind. Many, not bearing the weight of the rebukes spoken to you, after the departure approached and were distressed, and were indignant, saying, "You are leading us away from the holy table, and are driving us away from the communion?" But for this reason I was compelled to say these things, so that you might learn that I do not lead away, but rather gather; nor do I drive away, nor do I prevent, but I draw [you] more by the rebukes. For the fear of punishment, just as fire falling upon wax, so falling into the conscience of those who sin, both dissolves and melts our transgressions by being seated there continuously, and, rendering the mind pure and glistening, adds to us greater confidence. And just as he who gives bitter medicines to those with a bad stomach, and by cleansing the evil humors, stirs up the fallen appetite, and prepares them to partake of the accustomed food with more eagerness: so too he who says bitter words, and is cleaning out the evil thoughts of the mind, and the weight of the...

HOMILY X

^A expiat [the heart], and takes away the heavy load of sins, causes the conscience to breathe again, and prepares it to taste with great pleasure of the Lord’s body. Justly, therefore, did the blessed Paul say: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account" (Heb. 13:17). You indeed are concerned for your own affairs, and if these are well-ordered, you concern yourself no further with the rest; but the priest, even if he manages his own life well, if he does not have a diligent care for yours, will go to hell along with the wicked; and often, not being betrayed by his own sins, he perishes because of the sins of others. But since we have more severely rebuked those who partake of the divine mysteries unworthily, it is necessary to turn our discourse also to you who minister, that you may dispense these gifts with much diligence; for no small punishment awaits you. For if, knowing someone to be wicked, you permit him to partake of this table, his blood will be required at your hands. Whether he be a general, or a prefecture, or even he himself who is surrounded by the diadem, if he approaches unworthily, prevent him: you have greater authority than he. Take care lest you provoke the Lord, by not cleansing this body. Do not hand a sword instead of food; but even if he comes because of weakness to receive, do not fear to prevent him. Fear the Lord God, not man. If you fear man, you will be mocked by him, and you will provoke the Lord; but if you fear God, you will be both venerable to men and dear to them yourself. But if you yourself do not dare, bring him to me; I will not endure to let these things be done, I would sooner fail in soul than dispense the Lord’s blood unworthily; and I would shed my own blood before I would dispense such a tremendous blood in a manner that is not fitting. For it is much better to be deprived of life for the sake of God, than to be deprived of God for the sake of life. To whom be glory, power, now and for ever and ever. Amen.

^B

HOMILY X

For what reason did God not destroy the enemy from the beginning, after he had deceived [mankind]? If he ruled by force, this would be a significant question; but if this power has been taken away from him, and he only persuades, and to obey or not is in our power, why do you take away the occasion for praise and strike away the material for our crowns? Furthermore, if He left him, knowing that he would overcome all, not even so should one despair; for his victory happens through us, as we succumb of our own will, not by force: but if many have already been superior, and many truly will be so hereafter, why do you deprive those to be honored with victory of such a prize? But all will not be superior to him. Yet it is much more just that the generous should receive opportunities in which they may prove their virtue; and that those who are not such should be punished for their own sloth, rather than that the former should be harmed on account of the latter. For the evil [man], even if he suffers injury, does not suffer it from the adversary, but from his own sloth: which the multitude of those who overcome demonstrates. Truly then the good would have been attacked by the snares of the bad, if they did not have where they might exercise their fortitude. But in this way, they could also blame the formation of the mouth and eyes: for with these, many desire what they ought not, and fall into adultery; others speak against Him and utter pernicious decrees. Was it then necessary that men be made without tongue and eyes? Therefore we shall also amputate hands and feet: for the former are full of blood, and the latter run toward wickedness. And moreover, even the ears, because they receive vain hearing and transmit the depravity of doctrines into the mind: and if these, [why not] also food and drink, and heaven and earth and sea, and the choir of stars? For where will these be useful, if he for whom they were made is so miserably mutilated? Do you see the laughter and absurdity into which the argument is necessarily led? The devil is evil to himself, not to us: for we, if we will, enjoy many good things through him, as if they were fruits, even while he is unwilling and resistant: and the miracle in this will be greater, and the kindness of God more abundant. For that men should become better, this bites the devil even by itself and afflicts him with pain: but when this is brought about for us even through him, he cannot bear the humiliation. Unless God, some say, had allowed it, the devil could not have attacked, nor could he have deceived man from the beginning. What then shall we say to these things? Naturally, if this had not happened, [we] could not have known how much good Adam had, nor would he ever have retreated from that arrogance. For when he rated himself so highly as to hope that he would even become a god, what would he not have dared if he were not checked by restraint? But let us suppose the devil had not given counsel; would he not, because of this lack of action, have been able to sin? By no means: for he who was so easily persuaded by the woman, even if the devil had not been, would soon have fallen into sin by himself. For he who so easily admitted deception from another, he, even before he was deceived, was affected in a slothful and soft manner: for the adversary could not have prevailed so much, if he had conversed with a sober and vigilant soul. And for what reason did God give such a command to Adam, when He knew he would sin? Because giving the command is a work of greater care than not giving it. For let Adam have a purpose so languid, as the end showed he had; and let him receive no command, but let him continue to live delicately: would weakness and sloth from such a remission have promoted him to a worse or a better state? But it is manifest to all, that living without care, he would have fallen into extreme wickedness. For since he, who could not yet hope for immortality, but knew that this hope was still something sublime, was exalted to such insolence and arrogance that he hoped he would be a god, and this when he saw nowhere that he who promised these things was faithful: whither would his arrogance have progressed, if he had possessed a firm immortality? And why would he not have sinned? When would he have obeyed God? For he who, after receiving the command, so greatly despised Him who had given him the command; if he had heard nothing at all from Him, perhaps he would even have been ignorant that he had a master. If no one of the wicked were punished here, neither ^C

nor would any of the good be honored, many who disbelieve in the doctrine of the resurrection would flee from virtue as the cause of evils, and would pursue wickedness as the purveyor of goods. But if, on the other hand, everyone here received exactly according to their deserts, they would have deemed the doctrine of the judgment to be superfluous and false. In order, therefore, that neither the former should disbelieve, nor that the great and common ^A multitude should become more worthless by becoming contemptuous, He also executes judgment here upon many of those who sin, and recompenses some of those who act rightly; by not doing this to all, He confirms the doctrine of the judgment, and by punishing some even before the judgment, He rouses those who are sleeping a deep sleep. For from the punishing of the wicked, many are roused by the fear of suffering the same things; and from not having everyone here receive according to their desert, they are forced to reason that this is stored up for another time. For this reason God did not immediately destroy Cain when he sinned, so that through him all who came after might be disciplined, and become better through the rebuke given to him. For it was not equal to hear that Cain, having slain his brother, died, and to see the slayer paying the penalty. For at that time, even if it might have been disbelieved because of the excess of hatred, now, appearing and being present, and making many witnesses of his punishment for a long time, he rendered the fact manifest and credible both to those then and to those ever after. ^B Besides, if God had killed him immediately, He would not have given him any term for penitence and improvement; at that time, however, living in trembling and fear, if he was not too senseless, and a beast rather than a man, he would have gained much from this life. Aside from these things, He brought about for him a lighter future punishment through this present punishment. For the painful things or punishments brought upon us by God in the present life cut off no small part of the torments there. For this reason God is not accustomed to punish all who are deserving of the same punishments together, so that those left behind may become better through the calamities of the others; yet He often punishes all together, as in the case of the flood, so that they might be prevented from advancing further in wickedness, and those after them might gain more from them; the leaven, as one might say, and the basis of the evils having been removed from the midst along with those who dared them, so that they might not have so many teachers of worthlessness. For if, even without an example, men could easily find evils, what would they have done with many prompting them to wicked actions? This, therefore, is the only thing one must be persuaded of, that all things are managed for us by God in a way that is profitable; and one should no longer seek the manner, nor be vexed or disheartened through ignorance. ^C For it is neither possible to know these things, nor profitable: the one due to our being mortal, the other due to our being quickly prone to insanity. For God desires that even those who do not believe in Him be saved by changing; as He Himself says: *I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance* (Matt. 9: 13). And when, even after enjoying such great care, they do not wish to become better, and to discern the truth, not even then does He abandon them; but since they willingly deprived themselves of the heavenly life, He provides them at least with all that belongs to the present life, making His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and raining on the just and the unjust, and providing all other things that contribute to the sustenance of the present life. And if He exercises such providence for His enemies, how will He overlook those who believe in Him and serve Him according to their ability? And for what reason did the devil not vanish from the midst? Let there be one antagonist; let there be also two athletes about to wrestle against him; and of these two athletes, let one be corrupted, neglected, weakened, and enervated by gluttony; but let the other be diligent, in good condition, spending time in wrestling schools, in many gymnasia, showing all diligence concerning the contest. If, therefore, you remove the antagonist, ^D which of these have you harmed? Is it the slothful and negligent one, or the diligent one who has labored so much? It is clear that it is the diligent one. For the one is aided by the withdrawal of the antagonist, while the slothful one, if the antagonist remains, is no longer harmed because of the diligent one; for he fell because of his own sloth. Therefore, he who is weak in his will and neglected and slothful falls quickly even if the devil is not present, and casts himself into many abysses of wickedness. And if we come to our own members, we shall find that these too are causes of ruin, if we do not keep watch, not because of their own nature, but because of our own sloth. Consider: The eye was given so that, by seeing creation, you might glorify the Creator and Master; but, if you do not use the eye well, it becomes a cause of adultery for you. The tongue was given so that you might hymn and speak well of the Maker; but, if you are not careful, it becomes a cause of blasphemy and obscene speech for you. Hands were given so that you might lift them up to prayer; but, if you are not sober, you extend them toward greed. Feet were given so that you might run to good works; but, if you are negligent, you will have wicked deeds through them. You see that it harms the weak in all respects, and casts even the saving remedies into death, not because of their own nature, but because of his weakness. The mere sight of God is enough to destroy the wicked; for if the presence of the saints makes the strength of the demons weak, much more so does the presence of God. When we see disorder and confusion of affairs, let us not blame God, nor think that they are without providence; for the true disorder and confusion is not the course of affairs, but the mind that is so disposed, which, even if it enjoys myriads of good order, until it corrects the disorder and confusion within itself, will have no benefit from the good order in events; but just as an eye that is ill, even in the clearest noon, will see darkness, and one thing instead of another, and will have no advantage from the ray of light; but one that is healthy and strong, even in the evening will be able to guide the body with safety: so too the eye of our mind, as long as it is strong, even if it sees what seems to be in disorder, will judge them to be good; but when it is corrupted, even if one takes it up to heaven itself, and shows it much order there, it will condemn it as having much disorder and confusion. For this reason God does not demand an accounting of all things in this life, so that you may not despair of the resurrection, and lose hope of the judgment, as if everyone were giving an account here; nor does He let all go unpunished, so that you may not again think that all things are without providence. If anyone disbelieves in the resurrection, let him consider how many things God created out of nothing, and let him accept also...

^A the necessary proof of that. For He took earth and kneaded it and made man—earth, I say, which was not before. How, then, was earth made man? And how was it, that which was not, brought into being? What foundation does it have? And what is after the earth? And what again is after that? How, indeed, were all the infinite kinds of irrational creatures produced from it, and of seeds, and of plants? For this is more difficult than the resurrection. It is not an equal thing to kindle again an extinguished lamp, and to show fire where none at all appeared; nor is it equal to repair a collapsed house, and to produce that which did not exist at all. For there, if nothing else, the material was present; here, however, not even the substance was visible. ^B Therefore, He did that which seemed to us more difficult first, in order that from it He might provide a proof of that which is easier. And in our own birth, is not a small amount of raw and indistinct semen injected into the uterus that receives it? Whence, then, is such an efformation of a living being? What of the corn? Is not a naked grain cast into the earth? After it is cast, does it not rot? Whence, then, the ears and the beards, the stalks and all the other things? Does not a small grain of fig, having often fallen into the earth, produce roots, and branches, and fruit? Do you therefore accept any of these, and yet not curiously scrutinize them, while you demand from God alone an account of the forming of our body? And how do such people deserve pardon? ^C And for the sake of what did God leave the devil—who is so wicked—in order that he might trip us up? That, while we were compelled by fear and were awaiting the aggression of the enemy, we might exhibit much watchfulness and continuous sobriety. And what is it to you, to wonder if He left the devil for this reason? For since He was concerned for our salvation, and was rousing our sloth, and preparing the material for crowns, He prepared hell itself for this reason, that the fear of torment and the gravity of punishment might compel us toward the kingdom. If, therefore, you have done some good and have not received its reward here, do not be troubled: with increase, in the future time, the retribution for these things awaits you. And if you have done some evil and have not paid the penalty, do not trust: for there the penalty awaits you, if you have not changed and become better. ^D You are in a tumult and you bear it impatiently, and you fill all things with perturbation, when you see many flourishing in wickedness and having things well and easily and enjoying present things, and you are pained at the patience of God. What are you doing? Tell me: how many lie in wait and infest the roads? How many break through walls? How many destroyed many with deadly poisons? Do we therefore accuse the judge for these things? Not at all. For if, having caught these, he were to dismiss them from judgment, and were to punish indeed the one who had suffered, but were to honor and dismiss crowned the one who had done it, he would be truly worthy of accusation and the extreme charges: but when they have not yet been handed over to judgment, do you yourself mount the prosecution and prematurely condemn? Think of the actions of your life, oh man; enter into your own conscience, and not only will you not praise your own judgment, but you will even change your opinion, and you will embrace the meekness of so benign a Lord, and you will be grateful for the patience, admiring the tolerance of injuries in Him. For if everyone were to weigh the punishment of sins the moment they were committed, it could not be that our race would not have been removed long ago. Let us not, therefore, brethren, fall: for we do not care for our own salvation as much as He who made us; nor are we as concerned that we suffer nothing adverse as is He who bestowed upon us our soul, God. For God does not always leave men in calamities, so that they do not succumb; nor in peace, so that they do not become more sluggish; but by vicissitudes He varies their salvation. For if a ship does not persist without a pilot, but is easily submerged; how could the world have lasted so long, if no one were steering it? And that I may say nothing excessive, imagine the world to be a ship, the earth to be the keel, the heaven its sail, men the passengers, the sea the subject depth: how, then, for so long a time has a shipwreck not occurred? Leave a ship, therefore, one day without a pilot and sailors, and you will immediately see it submerged. But the world has suffered nothing of the sort, although it has lasted for five thousand and far more years. And why do I speak of a ship? One has built a small hut among the vines, and after collecting the fruit has abandoned it, and often it has not lasted two days, but it is dissolved and quickly laid low. ^A Shall, therefore, a hut be unable to stand unless there be one who looks after it; and such a work, so beautiful and so admirable, how will it remain stable for so long a time without any providence? Consider for me the beauty of the heaven, how long a time it has lasted and has not been obscured; consider for me the power of the earth, how its womb for so long a time has not failed from bearing; consider for me the fountains, how they gush forth and have not failed from the time they were created; consider for me the sea, how, receiving so many rivers, it has not exceeded its measure. Rightly is it said of each of the things that have been mentioned:

How magnified are thy works, O Lord! Thou hast made all things in wisdom (Ps. CIII, 24).

wrongly, and by your own self demand an account of your words and deeds which you have uttered wickedly and performed shamefully. But now you leave yourself without excuse, while you sit in judgment on God and add sins to your sins. And how are these things not deserving of punishment? Which may we all escape, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily XI. Concerning Wealth and Poverty.

When you see someone wealthy undeservedly, do not call him blessed, do not consider him enviable, do not condemn the providence of God, do not think that things here are carried about by chance and at random. Remember Lazarus and the rich man; how the one had arrived at the peak of prosperity and luxury, being cruel and harsh and inhuman and more savage than any dogs—yet they used to pity the beggar and tend to him, not hesitating to touch with their tongues the sores that covered his whole body; but the other did not even share crumbs with him. And that beggar, the truly rich, the truly prosperous [man], fell into the very extreme of poverty, and lacked even the necessary food, and struggled continuously with disease and hunger. And the one had more than he needed, while the other did not even enjoy what is proportional; yet ^B nevertheless he did not resent it, he did not accuse God, he did not blame Providence. How, then, is it not absurd, when the very ones who are suffering evil thus bless the Master in all things, that you, who stand outside these wrestlings, should blaspheme God on their behalf, for whom others endure with thanksgiving? For the one who is suffering terribly, even if he speaks some burdensome and heavy word, even if not of such great weight as another, yet still he shares in some forgiveness; but the one who stands outside these terrors, and on behalf of others destroys his own soul, of what forgiveness would he be worthy, blaspheming God on behalf of those for whom the one who has suffered evil gives thanks and, praising Him, does not cease throughout all time?

For why, O man, does wealth seem to you to be worth striving for? Is it for the sake of the pleasure from the tables, for the sake of the honor and the bodyguard provided by those who court you for this reason, for the sake of being able to avenge those who grieve you and to be formidable to all? For you could not name any other reason, but rather pleasure and flattery and fear and punishment. For wealth is not accustomed to make one wiser or more temperate, it does not introduce nor transplant into the soul any other part of virtue. And you would not be able to say that it is for this reason that this is desirable and sought after by you; for not only does it know nothing of transplanting or cultivating these good things, but if it finds them already laid up, it ruins and hinders them, and some it even pulls up and introduces the opposites of these. But I shall not speak of these things; for those who have been caught by this disease would not endure to hear, being entirely of pleasure, and for this very reason having become its slaves, now that they are being accused and convicted at the same time. For this reason, then, tell me, does wealth seem to you desirable and worth struggling for, because it nurtures the most grievous passions within you, bringing anger into action, and raising the bubbles of the love of glory into a greater bulk, and exciting [the soul] toward arrogance?

^C For these reasons, therefore, one ought most of all to flee from it without turning back, because it settles as an inhabitant in our mind certain wild and cruel beasts, through which it deprives one of the honor from all, and smears the opposite of that [honor] with its own colors, and thus brings it before the deceived and persuades them that this is greater than that—not being so by nature, but rather seeming to be so to the sight. For just as the beauty of women who act as harlots, composed of makeup and paints, is stripped of beauty, and yet the shameful and ugly appearance seems to the deceived to be beautiful and seemly; so too does wealth show honor to be rather an indignity. For do not look upon the praises that come to pass in public out of fear and flattery, but unfold the conscience of each of those who flatter you with such things, and you will see myriads of accusers crying out against you within, and turning away from you and hating you more than your greatest enemies and foes. And if ever a change of affairs were to come about and banish and convict the mask composed of this fear, just as the sun does to those appearances when it sends forth a hotter ray, then you will see clearly that during the preceding time you were in the deepest indignity among those who courted you, while you thought you were enjoying honor at the hands of those who hated you most and ^D were desiring to see you in the extreme of calamities. For just as man is a base, fragile, short-lived animal, such also is wealth; or rather, not such, but even weaker. For it does not die with the man, but often dies even before the man; and you all know how you have learned here ten thousand examples of base wealth. And the one who possesses it lives, but the possession has perished; and would that it had perished alone, and did not also cause the possessor to perish along with it. Therefore one would not be wrong to call wealth an ungrateful servant, a bloodthirsty and murderous servant, a servant returning to its master his wages in the form of slaughter; and, what is more grievous, not only when it abandons him does it surround him with dangers, but even before it leaves him, it disturbs and confuses him.

Who could have fared as Eutropius did by his wealth? Had he not reached higher than the dignities themselves? Had he not exceeded the summits of the whole inhabited world? Did not everyone tremble before him and fear him? But behold, he has become more wretched than prisoners, and more pitiable than slaves, and more needy than the beggars wasted by hunger, seeing every day swords sharpened, and a chasm, and executioners, and the leading away to death; and he has never known the enjoyment of that pleasure, nor does he perceive the ray as if surrounded in the thickest night; but in the middle of noon, he has had his sight blinded; or rather, however much one might contend,

he is not able to express in words the suffering he is ^B likely to endure, since it is lopped off every hour. For I see his countenance, and he is no better off than one who has already died once. The chattering of his teeth, and the pounding, and the trembling of his whole body are present, and his voice is interrupted, and his tongue is failing; and his condition is such as one would expect a soul of stone to have. Did I not continually tell you that wealth is a fugitive? And you did not bear with us. Did I not say that wealth is a wicked servant? And you did not wish to believe it. Behold, experience has shown in the very events that it is not only a fugitive and wicked, but even a murderer; for these things have now made you tremble and fear. Did I not tell you, when you were constantly rebuking me for saying the truth, that I love you more than do those who flatter you? Do I, who rebuke you, care [for you] more than those who flatter [you]? And did I not add to these words, "The wounds of friends are more faithful than the involuntary kisses of enemies" (Prov. 27:6)? If you had endured my wounds, their kisses would not have brought forth this death for you; for my wounds produce health, but their kisses have caused an incurable disease. Whence is this? From the fact that you did not give thought to the changes of human affairs. For if you had feared a change, you would not have suffered a change. But since you were not made better by yourself, nor by others, therefore you experienced the proof of those things which were said in words by the events themselves. I always say that wealth betrays those who use it poorly, and the time has come ^C showing the truth of these things by the events themselves. Why do you keep that which is of no benefit to you in trial? If it has strength, let it be with you when you fall into necessity; but if then it flees, what need do you have of it? I say these things, and I will not cease to say them, although many find fault with us. He always says, he clings to the rich. And indeed, they also always cling to the poor. I, however, cling to the rich; or rather, not to the rich, but to those who use wealth poorly. I always say, not accusing the rich man, but the plunderer. A rich man is one thing, a plunderer is another; distinguish the things, do not confuse that which is unconfused. Are you rich? I do not forbid it. Are you a plunderer? I accuse you. Have you your own? Enjoy it. Do you take away the property of others? I do not remain silent. Do you wish to stone me? I am ready even to pour out my blood, only so that I may keep back your sin; I do not care for hatred, nor do I care for war; one thing I care about, that those who hear may profit. And the poor are my children, and the rich are my children; the same womb brought both forth; the same birth-pangs brought both forth. Let him stone who wants to, let him hate who wants to; the pledges of crowns are my snares, and the number of rewards are my wounds. I do not fear snares; I fear only one thing: sin. Provided that no one charges me with sinning, even if the world wages war against me. Do you see the baseness of human things? Do you see the weakness of power? Do you see wealth, which I always called fugitive—not only fugitive, but also a murderer? For it does not leave its possessors; it even slaughters them. When someone ^D cultivates it, then it most betrays him. Why do you cultivate wealth, which can nowhere be retained? Do you wish to retain it? Do not bury it, but give it into the hands of the poor. Wealth is a wild beast: if it is kept, it flees; if it is scattered, it remains. Distribute it so that it may remain; do not bury it, so that it may not flee. Where is wealth? I would gladly ask those who have departed: Where is wealth? I say these things, not to reproach, nor to irritate ulcers, but to provide us a harbor from the shipwrecks of others. For he who is rich today will be a pauper tomorrow. And for this reason, I have often laughed reading testaments saying: Let this person have the lordship of the fields or the house, and another the use; for we all have the use, but none has the lordship. For even though wealth might remain with us for the whole time of our life, admitting no change, willing or unwilling, upon dying we shall cede it to others; having taken away the use, and that with difficulty, not even the lordship; but we shall depart naked and empty to that life. Whence it is clear that they have the lordship who have despised both their use and their enjoyment. For he who has cast away his riches and given them to the poor, he has used his things as he ought, and departed having the lordship of them. If anyone, therefore, wishes to have both the possession and the use and the lordship of them, let him dismiss all his riches; for he who does not do this, upon dying he will indeed yield them all; but often even before death he will cast them away with countless evils and dangers. And it is not only this that is so grave, that a change occurs and suddenly, but that instead, the rich man goes forth not at all prepared to endure poverty. For what reason, therefore, do you think that wealth is to be desired, and do you deem those who possess it blessed and do you envy them? In what does the rich man differ from the poor? Does he not clothe one body? Does he not feed one belly? Why, however, do you also have many slaves? For as in garments it is fitting to pursue only the use, and in the table the same, so also in slaves. For it was fitting for one master to use only one servant; indeed, even two or three masters for one servant. But if this is grievous, consider those who have none, and enjoy a freer way of life. For this reason, God gave us hands and feet, that we might not be in need of slaves. For neither was the class of slaves introduced because of necessity; for since even with Adam a slave had been formed, but this is the penalty and chastisement of sin and disobedience. But if it is most necessary to have a slave, then just one or another. For what is the point of a multitude of slaves for you, and to march insolently in the forum? Do you walk among wild beasts, since you drive away those you meet? Do not fear: no one of those who approach and walk near you bites. But you lead it as an insult, to walk alongside everyone? How great, however, is this madness, to not think it an insult for a horse to be following near, but to consider it a disgrace for a man, if he is not driven away by ten thousand stadia? What is worse than this foolishness, to drive away and push men, so that a beast may pass more spaciously? For such a necessity of mutual use among ourselves has been established by God with skillful providence, that if even one were the richest of all men, he would not be released from this connection, nor would he not have need of one who is poorer. For the poor are not only in need of the rich, but the rich are in need of the poor, and the latter more than the former. And so that you may see this more clearly, let us, if you will, make two cities, and one...

the other of the poor; and let there be no poor man in the city of the rich, and no rich man in the city of the poor; and let us see which will better be able to suffice for itself. In that of the wealthy, there will be no artisan, no builder, no carpenter, no shoemaker, no baker, no farmer, no coppersmith, no rope-maker, nor anything of that sort ^A. For who among the wealthy would ever choose to engage in these things, where even those who do carry them out, when they become prosperous, do not endure the toil of these tasks? How then will this city of ours stand? They say that the wealthy, by giving money, will buy these things from the poor. But how will they build houses, or will they buy that too? But that would not have any natural basis. Therefore, it is necessary to call the artisans there, and to destroy the law we established at the beginning when we were settling the city. Let us also look at the city of the poor, and see if it likewise will be in need, being deprived of the wealthy; clearing away first with our speech such things as wealth—gold, silver, precious stones, and 506 silken and purple garments, and those woven with gold—and having driven this out from there; what then? Because of this, will the affairs of this city be in need, tell me? By no means. For whether there is a need to build, or to forge iron, or to weave a garment, there is no need for gold and silver and pearls, but for skill and hands. What then? If there is a need to farm and to dig the earth, is there a need for the wealthy or the poor? It is clear to everyone that there is a need for the poor. Where then shall we have need of the wealthy hereafter, unless there is a need to demolish this city? ^B Whenever, therefore, you see someone shining on the outside from his garments and his numerous guards, unfold his conscience, and you will find much dust. Think of Paul, of Peter; think of John, of Elias, or rather of the very Son of God, who had no place to lay his head; become a follower of Him and of His servants, and imagine the invisible wealth of these. But if, having looked slightly, you should be darkened again from this, just as in some shipwreck when a storm has come, hear the judgment of Christ saying that it is impossible for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven; and against this judgment place the mountains and the earth and the sea, and if you wish, make everything gold by your speech, and you will see nothing equal to the damage coming to you from that quarter. For if each of you wealthy ones possessed the whole world, and each of them had as many men as are now everywhere on earth and sea and the inhabited world, and each had possessed the earth and sea and the buildings and cities and nations everywhere, and from every side instead of water, instead of springs, gold flowed to him, I would say that those who are so wealthy would not be worth three obols, ^C having fallen from the kingdom. For if now, longing for money that is perishing, when they do not succeed, they are tormented; if they were to receive a perception of those goods, what then will suffice for their consolation? Tell me then, if someone brought you into a palace, and prepared the king to speak to you in the presence of everyone, and made you share his table and board, would you not say that you were more blessed than everyone? But when you are about to be raised to heaven, and to stand by the King of all Himself, and to shine in response to the angels, and to enjoy that unapproachable glory, do you hesitate if it is necessary to spend money, when even if it were necessary to cast off this life itself, you should leap and rejoice and be winged by the pleasure? But you, so that you do not take a beginning that provides you with occasions for theft (for I do not call such a thing gain), even throw away what you have, and having borrowed from others, if necessary, you do not hesitate to stake your wife and children; yet when the kingdom of heaven is set before you, a sovereignty having no successor, you hesitate and draw back and gape after money? ^D But alas for the great lack of perception! That with such good things awaited, we still gape after present things, and we do not consider the craftiness of the devil, who through small things takes away the great ones from us and gives mud, so that he may snatch heaven, and shows a shadow, so that he may cast us out of the truth, and makes a show in dreams (for this is present wealth) 507 so that, when day has come, he may show us poorer than everyone. For who has proven to be such a constant and insatiable enemy as wealth, destroying us while we are living and in our soul, and insulting our body when we are dead, since it does not even allow it to be hidden in the earth, which is common even to criminals? For those, the lawmakers, having demanded the penalty of death, inquire no further; but wealth demands a most bitter penalty from its possessors even after death, exposing them naked and unburied, a terrible and pitiful sight. For they suffer things more grievous than those who suffer this from judgment and the anger of a judge. For those, having remained unburied for the first and second day, are surrendered to the earth; but these, when they are surrendered to the earth, then they are stripped and insulted by the tomb-robbers. And if they do not also take away [the contents of] the coffin, there is no longer grace for wealth, but for poverty even there; for if we had entrusted even this to wealth, and having abandoned making it from stone, we had forged it from gold, we would have lost this too. What then could be more wretched than the wealthy man, when not even death provides him with safety, but that pitiful body of his, not even having been stripped of life, has been released from the evils in life, being robbed and plundered because of the love of money by those who are spoilers and tomb-robbers, who are eager to fight over the dust and ash, and much more grievously than when he was living? For then, when they entered the storehouse, they would empty the boxes, but they would spare the body, and would not have taken so much as to strip the body itself; but now they do not even spare this, but they move it and turn it around, and insult it with much cruelty. For after it is surrendered to the earth, having made it naked both of its covering and of its garments, thus they leave it cast away in much solitude. And nature indeed reconciles even enemies to him then; but wealth makes even those who have nothing that they could reproach, enemies, and thus their inhuman madness against the dead and

^A inanimate, as if they would not abstain even from their own flesh if those limbs were of any use to them. Let us not, therefore, deem wealth to be a great good; for the great good is not to possess wealth, but to possess the fear of God. Behold now, if a man were righteous, and had much confidence in God, even if he were the poorest of all, it would suffice ^B to dissolve the present evils; for it would be enough for him merely to stretch forth his hands to heaven and invoke God, and immediately this cloud would pass away. But so much gold is stored up, and it is more useless than any mud for the solution of the pressing evils. And it is not only in this danger, but even if sickness lays hold, or death, or any other thing of that sort, the power of wealth is convicted, having no solace for those who are suffering to show from itself. Where now are the rich, who count up interest and the interest of interest, who take the goods of all and are never satisfied? Have you heard ^C Peter's voice, pointing out that poverty is the mother of wealth; that she who has nothing is richer than those who are surrounded by the diadem? For this is she who, having nothing, raised the dead, and made the lame walk, and cast out demons, and bestowed such things as those who are wrapped in purple and lead large and terrible armies never could. What then does he say? "Silver and gold have I none" (Acts 3:6). What is more weighty than this voice? What could be more blessed and more opulent? Others, indeed, boast in the opposites, saying, "I have so many talents of gold, and infinite acres of land, ^D and houses, and slaves"; but this man, in being the poorest of all, is neither confounded because of poverty nor is he ashamed, but is pleased with it. Thus, truly, he who has nothing is able to possess all things; thus he is able to acquire the goods of all: but if we possess the goods of all, we are deprived of all. He who therefore deems his own possessions as common, and not as if they were his own, will use not only his own, but also those that belong to others, as if they were his own; but he who separates himself and makes himself the master of his own goods only, he will not be master even of these. But to him who has nothing, neither house, nor table, nor superfluous garment, but all has been taken away for God's sake, he will use common resources as if they were his own, and will take whatever he desires, so that having nothing he obtains the possessions of all. But he who possesses anything will not be the master of these either; for no one will give to him who possesses: and they will belong to robbers, and thieves, and calumniators, and to the vicissitudes of affairs, and to all rather than to him. And if you wish, I will bring into the midst him who said and did these things, that tentmaker, the Cilician, whose homeland is not clear. He therefore traversed the whole world, in hunger and thirst and nakedness, carrying nothing at all with him, not going to a friend, not to acquaintances—for in the beginning he was a common adversary to all—but yet he had everything wherever he entered. But indeed Ananias and Sapphira, that they might possess a little of their own, fell out of all, and at the same time lost their very lives. Give away your own, therefore, that you may use other people's as if they were your own. Just as he who is conscious of evil in himself, even if he has obtained the wealth of all, is the most miserable of all; so he who has a purified conscience, even if he is clothed in worn-out rags and struggles with hunger, is of a more equitable mind than those who abound greatly in luxury. Therefore you have money so that you may relieve poverty, not so that you might make a profit of it; you, however, under the pretext of relief, effect greater misery, and sell benevolence for money. Sell it—I do not forbid—but for the price of the kingdom of heaven. Do not accept a small price for so great an office, namely interest of one percent, but that eternal life. Why are you a beggar and poor and sordid, selling great things for a little, that is, for perishing money? Why, having left God, do you gain human things? Why, running past the rich man, are you irksome to him who has nothing; and deserting him who returns thanks, do you thrust yourself upon the ungrateful? He desires to return thanks, but this man returns them grudgingly; the latter returns one percent with difficulty, the former a hundredfold and eternal life; the latter with insults and revilings, the former with praises and approbation; the latter stirs up envy for you, the former even weaves crowns for you; the latter barely here, the former both there and here. Is it not, therefore, of extreme madness, not even to know how to profit? One ought to possess money as masters, not as slaves; so that it is in our power, not we in its. For on this account are these things called "possessions" [chrēmata], that we might use them for necessary ministrations, not that we might deposit them for safekeeping. For it is the part of a slave to save; but to spend, that of a master and of one who has great power. Wherefore nothing is more insensate than the slave of money: he seems to himself to hold it, when he himself is held; he seems to himself to be the master, when he is a slave; and when he has surrounded himself with chains, as if having authority over all, he exults; and, making a fiercer beast against himself, he rejoices and dances while he becomes a captive; and seeing a dog stirred by madness and leaping upon his soul, when he ought to bind and macerate it with hunger, he offers to it abundant food, so that it might leap more fiercely and be more formidable. Do not therefore think that because you acquire many things for yourself, any pleasure comes to you, but if you do not desire to be rich. For if you desire to become rich, you will never cease being goaded; for this love is infinite; and by how much further you have progressed along the way, by so much further will you be from the end; and by how many more things that belong to others you have coveted, by so much more grievous does the torture become. For we refresh ourselves when we are thirsty when we drink as much as we wish, but as long as we are thirsty, even if we exhaust all the fountains, the torment nevertheless becomes greater for us. And just as when you see a man bound, and on his back and on his hands, and often also in his feet constricted with iron, you call him most miserable for this reason, so also, when you have looked upon a rich man surrounded by innumerable things, do not for that reason say he is rich, but on account of it think him even most miserable. For with these chains he has also a molesting jailer of his prison, the love of money, of course, which does not permit him to transcend this prison, but prepares for him innumerable fetters and guards and doors and bars; and when it has cast him into the inner ward, it persuades him even to take delight in these chains, so that he may not find even a hope of escape from the pressing evils.

might find the hope of relief for the evils that press upon them. For the poor person does not need necessary things as much as the rich person does excess; nor, on the other hand, does he have as much power to practice wickedness as the latter has. If, therefore, he is both more willing and more able, it is manifest that he will do even more and greater things. God made you rich so that you might help the needy, so that you might dissolve your own sins through the salvation of others; He gave you money, not so that you might lock it up to your own destruction, but so that you might pour it out for your own salvation. For this reason, He also made the possession of it uncertain and not permanent, so that even in this way He might loosen the intensity of the madness regarding it. For if, even now, those who possess it do not have confidence in it, but, seeing many plots born from the thing itself, are yet so inflamed with desire for them, if this were added to wealth—that it were certain and not liable to fall—what would they spare? From what would they abstain? For who, tell me, was poorer than Elias? But for this very reason ^A he surpassed all who were rich, because he was poor and chose that very poverty from a rich mind, and he considered all the wealth of money to be less than his own greatness of soul, and not worthy of his philosophy. For if he had considered present things to be great for himself, he would not have acquired only a sheepskin. For thus he condemned the present vanity, that he looked upon gold as upon cast-away mud. For this reason, even the king had need of the poor man, and he who had so much gold gaped at the mouth of one who possessed nothing more than a sheepskin; so much more splendid than purple was the sheepskin, and the cavern of the righteous man more than royal palaces. For this reason also, as he was ascending into heaven, he left nothing else to his disciple but the sheepskin. "With this," he says, "I struggled against the devil; having taken this, arm yourself also against him." For poverty is a strong weapon and an unconquerable fortress. And Elisha received the sheepskin as a great inheritance; for indeed it was truly a great inheritance, and more precious than all gold. And that Elias was twofold; and there was an Elias above, and an Elias below. I know that you all bless that righteous man and wish that each of you were he. What then if I demonstrate to you that we have all received something else far greater than that? For Elias left a sheepskin to his disciple; but the Son of man, as He was ascending, left us His own flesh. When, therefore, we hear of the loss of money, let us not be troubled, but let us say: "Blessed be God," and we shall find wealth much greater. For truly, you will not gather as much fruit by spending your wealth on the needy, and going about seeking out the poor, and scattering your possessions to those who are hungry, as you will gain through this word. Since I do not admire Job so much for opening his house to the needy as I am astonished at and proclaim him for bearing the plunder of his goods with thanksgiving. For one who is such can, when he has calmed the waves of nature, say without tears the words of Job: "The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away" (Job 1:21); he shall stand with Abraham himself, he shall be proclaimed with Job for this word alone. When, therefore, the devil takes away gold from you, either through robbers or through some other pretext, glorify the Master, and you shall have gained more, and you shall give a double blow to the enemy, both because you were not vexed and because you gave thanks. For if he sees that the loss of money humbles you and persuades you to be vexed against the Master, he will never cease working this; but if he perceives that not only do you not blaspheme the God who made you, but you even give thanks to Him more for each of the terrible things that happen, he will cease bringing trials, knowing that the experience of terrible things becomes a subject of thanksgiving for you and works for you more splendid crowns; which is what also happened in the case of Job. For having taken away his goods, and having struck his body, when he saw him becoming more thankful, he no longer dared to approach, but went away having endured a shameful and inexcusable defeat, having made the athlete of God more splendid. And Job, after having bound on all the crowns of patience and courage, received back double all that had perished; but you shall receive not double and triple, but an hundredfold of all things, if you bear them nobly, and you shall inherit eternal life; of which may we all be counted worthy, by the grace and philanthropia of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily 12.

Concerning Gluttony and Drunkenness.

BY MATTHEW, INTERPRETER.

Do you wish that we see what pleasure wealth and what honor it has? Let us examine the tables of the rich and of the poor, and let us ask those who are feasting, who are the ones most of all enjoying a pure and genuine pleasure—those who are lying upon their couches for a measured portion of the day, and joining dinners with breakfasts, and tearing their stomachs, and filling their senses, and sinking the ship with the excessive cargo of foods, and making the vessel take on water, just as in a shipwreck of the body sinking it, and thinking up shackles and handcuffs and tongue-locks, and binding the whole body with a bond more grievous than an iron chain, that of drunkenness and luxury—and neither choosing a genuine and pure sleep, nor being free from fearful dreams, being more miserable than those who are mad, and bringing a voluntary demon into the soul; and being set forth as laughter for a theater of servants, and knowing none of those who are present, and able neither to speak nor to hear, but being led from the couches to the bed, or those who are sober and watchful and who limit the measure by necessity, and have hunger and thirst as the greatest seasoning? For nothing so makes for pleasure and health as to reach for what is set before one while hungry and thirsty and to know satiety by demand, and not to apply more strength than the body requires. If you do not believe my word, contemplate the bodies of both and the soul of each one: are they not temperate ^B and luxury, and neither do they catch true and sincere sleep, nor are they free from terrible nightmares, they are more miserable than those who are insane, and they bring an inhabitant demon upon their own soul, and they are set forth as a mockery to a theater of servants, and they know none of those who are present, and are able neither to speak nor to hear, and are led sideways from their couches to the bed...

and look at the bodies of those who eat in common, are they robust, and do their senses perform their duty with great ease? whereas the others are flaccid and softer than any wax, and obsessed by swarms of diseases? For pains in the feet quickly swoop down upon them, and untimely tremors, and premature aging, and headaches and distensions, and repletions of the stomach, and extinction of appetites, and they are in constant need of physicians and continuous medicines and daily treatment. Are these, then, things of pleasure, tell me? Who among those who know what pleasure is would say so? For pleasure is then when there is enjoyment with preceding desire. For if there is enjoyment indeed, but desire nowhere appears, all pleasure perishes and vanishes. And just as a ship that has received a greater load of cargo than its capacity can hold is depressed by the weight of the burden and sinks, so also our nature and our body, if it receives more food than is sufficient for its strength, becomes overborne, and not sustaining the weight of what is imposed upon it, it is plunged into a depth of destruction, and destroys the sailors and the helmsman and the prow-man and the passengers and finally the cargo itself with all. Just as, therefore, in ships that are so disposed, not the calm of the sea, not the skill of the helmsman, not the multitude of sailors, not the equipment of instruments, not the season of the year being favorable, nor anything else can benefit a ship so tossed; so also it happens to those who abound in luxury; neither doctrine, nor exhortation, nor instruction and counsel, nor fear of future things, nor shame, nor the reproach of those who are present, nor anything else at all is able to save a soul so tossed. But he who is such becomes useless to this present life, and reprobate to every good work. From this, and from nowhere else, those who live in perpetual luxury are caught by heavy and incurable diseases; and for this reason they think they have been brought into this life, that when they have indulged in luxury and burst their belly, they may thus pass away with a body so fattened, providing a banquet from their own flesh to a worm. For they become subject to tremors and paralysis and consumption and heaviness and pains in the feet, and to many others, which physicians mention. For these kinds of tables will be constituted no better than poisonous medicines; nay, if one must speak the truth, much worse. For those indeed suddenly removed him from whom they were taken, and brought death without feeling, so as not to afflict the dying man even with trouble through this very thing; but these bring a life more grievous than innumerable deaths to those who make much of them. And other diseases indeed have many who sympathize; but those that are born from luxury and drunkenness do not suffer the onlookers, not even if they should wish to sympathize with those who are held by them; but the excess of evil bends to pity, but the cause of these diseases exasperates the one who knows it. For they were neither injured by nature, as those others, nor attacked by the snares of men; but they have proved themselves the artificers of these diseases, of their own accord casting themselves into a precipice of evils. A scorpion or a serpent sitting in one’s entrails does not so infect everything in every direction as the desire for luxury perverts and destroys everything. For those wild beasts attack the body alone; but this one, when it has sat within, destroys the soul along with the body. Since, therefore, the ruin of everything is this, and a thing altogether ridiculous, spare you yourselves the health of your body. I do not say that you should give yourselves to the harshness of life, if you yourselves are unwilling: let us abolish what is superfluous, let us amputate what is beyond necessity. For what indulgence do we deserve, if others do not even enjoy what is necessary, when they can, while we live luxuriously beyond necessity? For whom shall we say lives more sumptuously, him who eats herbs and is healthy, and has nothing unpleasant; or him who sets out a Sybaritic table, and is full of innumerable diseases? It is evident that it is the former. Let us therefore seek nothing beyond necessity, but he who can be content with vegetables, and be in good health, let him seek nothing further: but he who is weaker, and needs the service of herbs, let him not be hindered. But if some one should be weaker, and need the moderate help of meat, neither shall we prevent him. For we do not persuade these things so that we may kill and destroy men; but that we may amputate superfluities: for the superfluous is that which is beyond necessity. But if we can lead a healthy and honest life without this, that which is added is plainly superfluous. Do you not see with whom our struggle is? With incorporeal powers. By what means, therefore, being flesh, shall we overcome them? For if one who wrestles with men must eat temperately, much more he who wrestles with demons: but when we are tied to both gluttony and riches, whence shall we conquer our adversaries? For as on a cithara, if the sounds are soft and slack, and not well stretched, the excellence of art is also cut off, and constrained to serve the weakness of the strings; so also in the body, when it has obtained from us much treatment, the soul undergoes bitter slavery. Let us not, therefore, fatten the body, nor render it inert and lax through luxury. I do not say that we should exhaust ourselves or treat ourselves too harshly, but that we should take so much food as may have pleasure—true pleasure, I say—and be able to nourish the body, and exhibit it obedient to us and fitting for the functions of the soul, well-compacted and joined together. For when luxury is redundant, it cannot keep its very nails, so to speak, and its joints compacted owing to the inundation; for when an inundation has invaded, it dissolves and confuses everything. For that which is sufficient of itself is nutriment and pleasure and health; but that which is more is destruction and loathing and disease. And what is more grievous than these, it destroys the very soul also along with the body. And just as land that is very damp produces worms, so the desire implanted in the body, when it is drenched with luxury, brings forth pleasures: and when the body has become softer, it is necessary for the soul to take destruction together with it. For if those who drink refined wine are not free from reproach, what shall we say to those who undertake transmarine journeys for the sake of wine, and who move everything, so that no genus of vine may escape them? As if they had to render accounts, if they did not gorge themselves with every kind of wine. Truly, nothing is so…

^B harmful as luxury. It makes pigs out of men, and even worse than pigs. For the pig indeed wallows in the mire and feeds on dung, but this man feeds on a table more abominable than that, devising illicit unions and forbidden loves. Such a man differs in nothing from one possessed by a demon; and while we might pity the demoniac, this man we turn away from and detest. Why is this? Because he draws down upon himself a voluntary madness, and makes his mouth, and his eyes, and his nose, and simply all his members, into sewers of sin. And if you look within, you will see his soul also, as if in some storm and frost, frozen and benumbed, and unable to save even the vessel because of the excess of the storm. For those who are enslaved to drunkenness and gluttony choose neither a genuine and sincere sleep, nor are they freed from fearful dreams. How, then, is it not absurd that brute animals seek nothing beyond their need, while men, who are rational and honored with the image of God, become more irrational than them, ^C overstepping the bounds of proportion? For how much better is the donkey than men who are in such a state? How much better is the dog? For those animals, whether it is necessary to eat or drink, know sufficiency as their limit and do not go beyond their need; and even if many often urge them, they will not consent to go out into excess. But these men have judged themselves to be less honorable even than those. And that brute animals are not forced to enjoy food beyond measure: and if someone asks, "Why?" they would say, "So that they may not die." But these men do not provide even this level of foresight for themselves; thus they consider themselves to be of less value than those, and they look on as they are constantly stormy. For they do not endure the harm from drunkenness only on the day of their drunkenness, but also after that day; and just as when a fever has passed, the damage from the fever remains, so also when drunkenness has departed, the dizziness of the drunkenness whirls in the soul and in the body. And the wretched body lies paralyzed, like a vessel after a shipwreck; but its soul, which is more miserable than the body, even when the body is dissolved, stirs up the storm and kindles desire ^D more vehemently. How many evils, then, befall men from drunkenness, I am ashamed to say, and I leave them to the conscience of those who know these things more accurately. For what is more shameful than a drunken man wandering about, and enduring that dire shipwreck, and causing the gifts of God to be blasphemed by the senseless? For I hear many saying, when these passions occur: "Let there be no wine." O the folly! O the derangement! Because others are sinning, do you blame the gifts of God? For did wine create this evil, O man? It is not the wine, but the wantonness of those who enjoy it poorly. Therefore say: "Let there be no drunkenness, let there be no luxury." But if you say, "Let there be no wine," you will say, progressing little by little, "Let there be no iron, because of murderers; let there be no night, because of thieves; let there be no light, because of slanderers; let there be no woman, because of acts of fornication"; and you will simply abolish everything. Do not, therefore, malign wine, but drunkenness, and the one who has used the good badly; and having taken this man while sober, describe his indecency, and say to him: "Wine was given so that we might rejoice, not so that we might behave indecently; so that we might laugh, not so that we might be laughed at; so that we might be healthy, not so that we might be sick; so that we might correct the weakness of the body, not so that we might cast down the strength of the soul." God honored you with the gift; why do you insult yourself with intemperance? For if that holy Timothy, even while possessed by sickness and enduring continuous infirmities, did not use wine until the Master permitted it, what excuse could we have, who are drunk while in health? For to him he said: "Use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent infirmities" (1 Tim. 5:23); but to each of us he would say: "Use a little wine because of your fornications, because of your frequent foul language, and the other wicked desires which drunkenness is wont to beget." Wine was given for gladness; for "wine," it says, "gladdens the heart of man" (Ps. 103:15); but you even spoil this virtue of it. For what kind of gladness is it to not be in one's right mind, and to have myriads of pains, and to see everything swirling, and to be held in terrible darkness, and, like those suffering from fever, to need those who sprinkle their heads with oil, and to work days into nights, and to turn light into darkness, and with eyes open to not even see what is at one's feet, and to pierce oneself with so many and such evils? For for those living in drunkenness and wantonness, the day is turned into the darkness of night, not because the sun is extinguished, but because their own mind is darkened by drunkenness. Those who surrender themselves to drunkenness, the more they pour the undiluted wine out for themselves, the more they are inflamed with thirst, and the consumption always becomes a fuel for the thirst; and the things of pleasure are then faded, but the thirst, having become incessant, leads those who have been made captives by it into the very precipice of drunkenness. From this especially one might be amazed at the folly of those who are addicted to drunkenness, that they do not even wish to show as much restraint toward themselves as others have toward their wineskins. For the sellers of wine do not allow those people to take more than is necessary, so that they may not burst; but these men do not consider their wretched stomach worthy even of this foresight, but when they have filled it and burst it, they fill everything up to the ears, up to the nose, up to the throat itself, thereby creating great constriction for the breath, for the power that manages the living creature. For was the throat made for you so that you might fill it up to the mouth with rotting wine and the other corruption? It was not for this, but so that you might send up holy prayers to God, and read the divine laws, and counsel your neighbors in what is profitable. For not even the violent river currents are accustomed to wear away the banks and make them subside, as luxury and excess easily undermine all the foundations of our health. For the passing of food with force both scrapes away the strength of the body, and drags down and weakens the manliness of the soul. And this is not the only terrible thing for the glutton, that he is torn apart, and bursts his own stomach, and cuts off the health of body and soul; but that it flows past and runs through more quickly, and he cannot retain the supply resulting from these things for even one day, but that having been breathed out, he is forced to inject others again. Therefore, to eat is not an evil—far be it—but gluttony, and to be gorged beyond need and to burst the stomach; just as, therefore, it is not evil to partake of moderate wine, but to surrender oneself to drunkenness, and

the judgment of thoughts. For the Master has yoked us to such a body that it cannot subsist unless it share in it—only let it be shorn of intemperance. This is very important for us for 516 its health and our own well-being. Do you not see every day, from expensive tables and intemperate overeating, countless diseases result? Whence come pains in the feet? Whence headaches? Whence the redundancy of corrupted humors? Whence ten thousand other diseases? Is it not from intemperance, and from wine consumed more than is necessary? As a ship that has taken on so much water that it cannot be bailed out is quickly weighed down and sinks, so too does a man, when he gives himself over to excessive greed and drunkenness, head toward a precipice and cause his reason to sink, and he lies there thereafter like a dead man possessed of a soul; capable often of doing evil, but regarding all that is good, he behaves no better than a corpse. Drunkenness is such an evil that it can dull even the senses, and force a man endowed with reason, who has received dominion over all things, to lie like a useless corpse bound by certain indissoluble chains; nay, worse than a corpse, for while one is useless for both good and evil, the other is publicly exposed to the laughter of all. For friends indeed, regarding it as their own disgrace, are affected with shame and blush; but enemies insult, and mock, and revile, saying little less than these words: Is it fitting for this man even to live? Is it fitting for him to breathe the air, or [to be] the beast, the pig? and saying more grievous things than these. By avoiding these things, beloved, as much as we are able, let us strive to eat only as much as brings pleasure—true pleasure, I mean—and is able to nourish the body, and render it obedient to us and fit for the performance of the commandments of Christ, that we may both pass the present life easily and attain the good things to come, through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.

Homily XIII

On Sickness and Physicians

When you fall into adversity, O man, remember the body of Job, and that holy flesh—for it was holy and pure, and yet bore such wounds. For who has ever been so sick? Who has received such a plague, or seen another receive one? There is no one, there is none. Little by little his body was consumed, and a fountain of worms swarmed everywhere from his members, and this flux was continuous, and there was an unbearable stench on every side, and his body was gradually being divided; rotting away with such putrefaction, it made his food unsavory. And his hunger was strange and unheard of; for he could not partake of the food offered to him. For, he says, I see my food as the sound of wind. But, you say, he had enough of consolation and relief in the fact that he knew God was inflicting these things upon him. But this is what most of all troubled and agitated him, that he thought a just God, whom he had worshipped in every way, was hostile to him, and he could find no reasonable cause for the things that were happening. But if you think this is enough for consolation, you will be able, indeed, to have this very relief yourself. For even if you suffer nothing on account of God, but from the vexation of men, and yet you give thanks and do not revile Him who is able indeed to forbid [it] but yet permits it for the sake of your probation—just as those who have suffered on account of God are crowned, so you too will obtain the same rewards because you bore the inconveniences brought upon you by men generously, and gave thanks to Him who was able, but willed not to forbid it. For there is no good person without sin, nor any evil person without justice; but there is compensation and remuneration for both. If there is a just man, and he has done something evil and has fallen ill, and is subject to punishment, do not be troubled, but say: This just man did some small evil at some point, and receives [the penalty] here, so that he may not be punished there. Again, if you see a sinner plundering, acting greedily, living pleasantly, while he does innumerable evil things, do not be troubled even then, but say: This sinner who commits countless evils did some good thing at some point, and receives good things here, so that he may not demand back his wage there. This, moreover, can be seen in the case of Lazarus; since it happened that he also had some sins, and the rich man again had some good, hear what Abraham says: You received your good things there, and Lazarus his bad things (Luke 16:25). What kind? Did you do some good? You received in return for it wealth, good health, delicacies, power, honor; and nothing is owed to you. What then of Lazarus? Did he sin at all? Truly: therefore he says, And Lazarus his bad things. For when you were receiving your good things, then Lazarus was also receiving bad things. When, therefore, you see a just man being punished, declare him blessed and say: This just man has some sin, and for it he pays the penalty, and he departs there clean. But if he is punished beyond what his sins deserved, it is reckoned to him as an increase of justice. Note, however, what I say: Job was just, irreproachable, truthful, pious; and his body was punished here, so that he might receive his reward there. For God says to him, Do you think I have answered you otherwise, except that you might appear just (Job 40:8)? Did he therefore pervert the counsel of his wife, that holy Job? Nay, he did the contrary, and raised him up to a greater degree, so that he even rebuked his wife. For he preferred to grieve and be afflicted, and to suffer innumerable adversities, rather than to find any exit from these evils by way of reviling. But the common crowd of men, when they fall into adversity, revile immediately, and they endure the misery of the disease; but they are defrauded of the gain which they were to receive from the disease through patience. Why do you do this, O man? In

^A truth, if he sees someone blaspheming, he easily increases the pain and makes it greater, so that, being stung, you may again rebel. But if he sees one bearing it bravely, and the more the suffering is intensified, all the more does he give thanks to God, he departs immediately, as one who is lingering in vain and to no purpose. For on what account, O man, do you fret and blaspheme, if you should ever fall into something unexpected? For by blaspheming, do you make the affliction lighter? No, you actually intensify it, and you make the pain especially more grievous. "But I cannot keep silent, being stung by the pain." But instead of blasphemy, give thanks, speak well, glorify God. For if you blaspheme, you have both repelled the aid of God and have made the devil more fierce against you; but if you give thanks, you have both repelled the plots of the wicked demon and drawn to yourself the care of the protecting God. But does the tongue often hasten, through habit, to utter those wicked words? But as soon as it hastens, before bringing forth the word, bite it fiercely on all sides with your teeth. It is better for it to bleed now than for it to crave a drop on that day, and not be able to find any consolation, as was the case with the rich man; it is better for it to suffer short-lived pain than to be roasted ^B eternally and without end then. Whenever, therefore, you fall into a grievous disease, and many come by forcing—some with incantations, others with amulets, others with other such things to relieve the evil—if you, for the fear of God, bear the pain from the disease bravely and firmly, and would choose to suffer everything rather than submit to doing any of these things, this brings you a crown of martyrdom. And do not doubt: for just as that man bears the pains from the tortures bravely, so as not to worship the idol; so you also bear the pains from the disease, so as not to have need of anything from him, nor to do what he commands. "But those are more violent." But these are longer; so it comes to the same thing, and often even more violent. For when a feverish heat troubles you within and burns, and while others advise you to shake off the rebuke, do you not crown yourself with a crown of martyrdom? For when you cast the enchanters out of your house with great indignation, all who hear will praise and admire you, and will say to one another: "This man, being sick, although ten thousand people were calling upon and advising him and counseling him to use certain magic incantations, did not accept them, but said: 'It is better to die in this way than to betray piety.'" But if the praises are so great here, reflect on how great are the crowns you will receive there, when, with the angels and archangels present, Christ shall come forward and, taking you by the hand, lead you into the midst of that theatre and, with all listening, say: "This man, having once been seized by a fever, while ten thousand were advising him to be rid of the fever, for the sake of My Name and the fear of Me, so as not to stumble in anything, he rejected and dishonored those who promised to cure him in this way, and chose rather to die of the disease than to betray the affection toward Me." For if He brings into the midst those who gave Him to drink and fed Him and clothed Him, much more those who, for His sake, chose to endure a fever. For it is not the same to give bread and a garment, and to endure a long disease, but this is much greater than that; so the crown also will be brighter. Let us practice these things even while healthy, and let us say them to one another. Remember the blessed Timothy, that he never caught his breath from his infirmity, but was a companion to it throughout his body. If that righteous and holy man, who had been entrusted with the care of the world, and was raising the dead, and driving out demons, and had corrected ten thousand diseases in others, suffered such grievous things, what apology will you have, being troubled and distressed at temporary illnesses? And children, indeed, often are instructed to endure fathers who do not even justly punish them; and will you not bear God who is training you, who loves you more than fathers do, and who arranges everything for your benefit; but if there is a small disease, do you immediately flee from His mastery, and run to the demons? And what forgiveness will you find? How will you make an apology to Christ? How will you call upon Him in prayers? With what conscience will you henceforth enter the church? With what eyes will you see the priest? With what hand will you touch the holy table? With what ears will you hear the Scriptures read there, doing such lawless things against yourself? And how will you be able to call upon God again? Or rather, not even another, even if he possessed the boldness of Moses, will be able to pray for you. Or do you not hear what He says to Jeremiah concerning the Jews? "Pray not for this people; for if Moses and Samuel should stand, I will not listen to them" (Jer. 15.1). And just as kidnappers often put cakes and dessert and other such things before little children, and by enticing them, deprive them of their freedom and their life; so also the enchanters, promising relief from the limb, submerge the whole salvation of the soul. But many of those who have fallen into extreme folly, not only ask for wealth and power and all such things from the God of all, but they even curse their enemies, and supplicate that some punishment be brought upon them; and they pray that He be gentle and kind toward themselves, but want Him to become harsh and inhuman toward their enemies. And those who are sailing do not command the pilot to hold the rudder and guide the ship in such and such a way, but sitting on the decks, they tolerate his expertise, not only when the ship is carried by a fair wind, but even when it threatens the final danger; but they do not tolerate yielding to God alone, who manages what is for our benefit precisely, resembling the sick man who begs the physician to give him everything that does not loosen the disease, but everything that feeds the mother of the disease itself. But the physician will not yield to the supplication of the patient, but even if he sees him weeping and lamenting, he follows the law of his own profession more than he is swayed by his tears; and we call the disobedience not inhumanity, but philanthropy; for in yielding to the sick person, and granting what is for pleasure, he works the things of the enemy against him; but in resisting and fighting against his desire, he has used mercy and philanthropy. But even loving fathers do not tolerate reaching for swords or coals of fire for their very young children; for they know clearly that it is harmful to them ^C

^A and by resisting their child’s desire, they use mercy and kindness. In the same way, parents of their children, who are lovers of their own offspring, by no means endure to give them knives or coals of fire if they ask for them; for they know well that the granting of these things is destructive to them. In the same way, God also does not endure to give to those who ask for harmful things as if they were beneficial, knowing that these things will be a source of ruin for them. I believe that it was not thoughtlessly and without cause that ancient physicians established a law that the instruments of various kinds should be displayed publicly; but it was done for this reason, that they might render those who were healthy cautious, by showing them how much they would have need of if they lived inordinately. It is necessary, therefore, for us to fear Christ more than Gehenna, and to desire Him more than the kingdom. And if we should labor under an illness, it is better to remain in the infirmity than, through a release from the sickness, to fall into impiety. For even if a sorcerer provides a cure, he has done more harm than good. He has benefited the body, which after a short while is altogether destined to die and rot, but he has harmed the soul, which is immortal. For it is better for the one who is not a physician not to have medicines. For he who has none neither heals nor destroys, but the one who possesses them destroys, not knowing how to use them; since salvation lies not in the nature of medicines, but in the art of the one administering them. It does not follow that because one has the name of a physician, he is a physician. You have heard what was said about Lazarus; how he grappled with hunger, disease, and solitude throughout his entire time; so that he even ended his life at the vestibule of the rich man, neglected, hungry, and exposed as food to the dogs. For his body was so weakened that he could not even drive away the dogs that were invading and licking his wounds; yet he did not seek a sorcerer, did not apply charms, did not practice magic, did not call conjurers to himself, and did not do anything else forbidden; but he preferred to die from those evils rather than to betray even a small part of piety. What defense, therefore, will be given to us, when that man suffered and bravely endured such adversities, if on account of a fever or wounds we summon sorcerers and conjurers into our homes? For many often fall ill, yet they do not lack necessary food; others live in extreme poverty, but enjoy good health. But Lazarus was so debilitated that he could not even drive away the dogs, but lay there breathing yet dead, seeing them invading but unable to ward them off; in such a way were his limbs weakened, in such a way were they wasting away from the bad health, in such a way was he consumed by the trial. But if, by itself, any one of these things is intolerable and bitter; when they are joined together simultaneously, how could he not have been a man of adamant who endured them? For if he had been placed in solitude and an uninhabited ^B place and had suffered these things and been neglected, he would not have grieved in this way; for this very fact, that no one was present, would have compelled even an unwilling person to bear what was happening; and in truth, that he lay in the middle of those whose affairs were prosperous, and was held worthy of no care, not even of a common kind, he was made to feel a more bitter sense of pain. Imagine how it was proper for him to be affected, watching the parasites, the flatterers, those descending, those ascending, those going out, those coming in, the ones making a tumult, the drunkards. We ourselves, indeed, even if we suffer innumerable adversities, still have the ability to look to him, whence we may receive comfort in abundance; for to find partners in one's own evils brings much consolation to those who are grieving: but he was able to see no other person who had suffered the same things that he himself was undergoing: indeed, he even thought that present matters were concluded with this life: for he was of those who were before grace. But if now, in our own times, after such knowledge of God and the good hopes of the resurrection, and the goods prepared for those who act righteously, some are of such faint heart that they are not corrected even by these expectations: how was it fitting for him to be affected? Let us imitate Lazarus, both the rich and the poor. For he underwent not one, or two, or merely three struggles of virtue; but much more: poverty, the solitude of helpers, and adversity of health; that he did not see these things for two or three days, but throughout his entire life, and he saw himself in these and the rich man in the opposite; that he had no other Lazarus to look to, that he could not philosophize about the resurrection; that with the aforementioned evils he had also gathered for himself an evil suspicion among the common crowd of men from those calamities. What defense, therefore, shall we have, if when he so bravely bore all these adverse things together, we do not bear even half? For you cannot, you cannot show or name any other person who has suffered such and so many evils. For this reason, Christ set him in the middle, so that into whatever sort of adversity we might fall, seeing an exuberance beyond that, we may receive clear consolation and relief from the philosophy of that man. For the Master of the whole world has been set forth as a teacher to all, whoever suffer any adverse thing, exhibiting himself for all to observe, and surpassing all by the intensity of his own evils. For when wise physicians are about to cut off rotting limbs, or to extract stones stuck in passages, or to correct some other defect of nature, they do not do so by taking the patient into a corner; but when they have ^C proposed him in the middle of the forum, and have constituted a theater from those passing by, only then do they apply the incision. And they do this, not because they wish to insult human miseries, but so that they may teach those watching to exercise much care for their own health through the bodies of others. When, therefore, you see a just man being oppressed and vexed, and ending his present life in ill health and countless other adversities, say to yourself: "If there were no resurrection and judgment, God would by no means allow a person who has suffered so many evils, and who has enjoyed no good, to depart from here." Whence it is clear that He has prepared another life for them, sweeter and much more tolerable than this present one. Indeed, by what reasoning would it consistent, that He allowed many wicked men to live this present life in luxuries, while He leaves many just men in innumerable evils; since He is and is called just, and knows how to give grace justly to each according to his merits? To Whom is due glory, power, honor, and adoration, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. ^D

HOMILY XIV.

^A Those who are about to take wives should first read the laws regarding marriage set down by Paul, and from there learn what must be done when it happens that a woman is wicked, abusive, full of madness, or suffering from any other such defect. If, therefore, you believe that [the Apostle] gives you authority, upon finding any of these faults, to cast her out and bring in another, as though you were exempt from every danger, you are deceived; if he does not permit this, but commands you to cherish her even if she has all other defects, with the exception of fornication, fortify yourself in such a way that you are prepared to bear her wickedness in all things. If this seems heavy and burdensome to you, do everything and strive to take a wife who is good, moderate, and obedient. For if, when we are about ^B to buy houses and servants, we act with care and deliberate, examining both those who sell and those who possessed them before, and also the construction of the houses and the condition of the servants, both in body and in soul, with much greater care and with much more foresight must those who are about to take wives provide. For although it is possible to sell a house that proves to be poor, and it is possible to return a servant who proves to be unruly back to the one who sold him, once you have taken a wife, it is not possible to return her to those who gave her.

It is a terrible thing, therefore, to take a poorer wife, and a terrible thing to take one wealthier; for the former brings harm to one’s substance, while the latter brings harm to one's authority and freedom. Many of those who frequent harlots have undergone not only the eternal and immortal death elsewhere, but even here they have perished wretchedly and miserably, enduring the over-reaching ^C of the harlots. For those women, striving to bind the one who attends upon them completely to their own passion, have stirred up magic arts, prepared love-potions, and written many sorceries. Then, having cast him into a grievous illness, and having surrendered him to wasting disease and long consumption, and having wrapped him in ten thousand evils, they have taken him from this present life. If, therefore, you do not fear hell, O man, at least fear the encroachments of these women. For when you have made yourself destitute of the alliance of God through this excess, and have stripped yourself of help from above, the harlot receives you with impunity, and having summoned her own demons, and having written her charms, and having worked her plots with great ease, she prevails over your salvation, rendering you a reproach and a laughingstock to all who inhabit the city.

If, therefore, you wish to be entertained, ^D do not go to the theaters, but to orchards, to flowing rivers and lakes; examine gardens, listen to the chirping of cicadas, frequent the monuments of the martyrs, where there is health of body and profit of soul, and no harm. Do you have a wife? Do you have children? What is equal to this pleasure? Do you have a house? Do you have friends? These are very delightful, and along with purity, they provide profit. For what is sweeter than children, tell me? Or what is better than a wife for one who wishes to live temperately? It is said that barbarians once uttered a saying full of philosophy. For upon hearing of these lawless theaters and that base delight, they said that the Romans, as if they had no children and wives, thus devised such pleasures.

Whenever, therefore, you see a beautiful woman, having a shining eye, radiant from her face, bearing some indescribable grace upon her countenance, burning your reason and increasing your desire, consider that what you admire is earth, that what burns you is ash, and the raging soul will be stilled. Uncover the skin of her face, and then you will see the worthlessness of all that beauty. Do not stop at the surface, but pass more deeply in your mind, and you will find nothing else but bones, and nerves, and veins. But are these not enough? Consider her, I pray, changing, aging, falling ill, with eyes sinking and cheeks hollowed out. All that blossom fades away. Consider what you are admiring, and be ashamed of your judgment; you admire mud and ashes, and dust and embers inflame you.

For the substance of the beauty that is seen is nothing other than phlegm, and rheum, and blood, and the juice of digested food. For by these things both eyes, and cheeks, and all the rest are watered; and if that irrigation, rising from the stomach and the liver, does not reach them every day, with the skin sagging beneath what is required, and the eyes becoming hollow, straightway the grace of the countenance departs. So that if you think upon what lies inside the eyes, what lies inside the straight nose, and what lies inside the mouth and beneath the cheeks, you will declare the beauty of the body to be nothing else than a plastered shroud; such is it full of defilement within. Then, having seen a rag holding something of this sort, such as phlegm or saliva, you do not endure even touching it with the tips of your fingers, and you do not even endure looking at it; yet you are frantic for the reservoirs and depots of these things?

Therefore, the one who is lover of the body and frantic for a beautiful young woman, if he wishes to learn by reasoning the loathsomeness of the substance, he will know it through the sight itself. For many of the beloved’s own age, and very often even more brilliant than she, having died—after one or two days—have provided stench, and corruption, and a rotting of worms. Consider, therefore, what kind of beauty you love, O man, and for what sort of appearance you are frantic. For what is the virtue of eyes? Is it that they are moist, and nimble, and round, and blue, or that they are sharp and piercing? And what is the virtue of a lamp? That it shines brightly and illuminates the whole house, or that it is well-formed? For beauty is characterized not by the configuration, but by one’s ways and moderation.

For this reason, Christ punished the man who looks upon a woman intemperately, so that He might free us from the greater labor. For it is not as much labor not to see beautiful women as it is to restrain oneself while looking at them. For the one who has not seen the beautiful face will be pure from the desire arising from it; but the one who desires to see, having first cast down his reason, and having defiled it ten thousand times, then casts out the stain from the desire, if indeed he casts it out at all. Since, therefore, the labor is less for those who are temperate, and the profit greater, why do we strive to fall into that sea of ten thousand evils? Whenever, therefore, you see a beautiful woman, and feel something toward her, look no longer, and you will be freed. And how shall I be able to look no longer, being dragged by desire, he says? If you consider,

^A that what you see is nothing else but phlegm and blood and the juice of putrefied food. But the bloom of her face, you say, is radiant. But there is nothing more radiant among the flowers of the earth; yet even these rot and wither. Do not, therefore, attend to the bloom even here, but penetrate within with your mind, and having stripped away that beautiful skin with your reasoning, examine more diligently what lies beneath it. For even the body of those suffering from dropsy looks bright, nor does its surface offer anything foul; but when we are struck by the thought of the humor residing within, we cannot love such things. When, therefore, a man wishes to cast off his wife, or a wife to leave her husband, let him recall this statement ^B and imagine that Paul is present and pursuing her, crying out and saying: "The wife is bound to the law as long as her husband lives" (1 Cor. 7:39). By declaring this, he does not add: "But if her husband is dead, she is free," but: "But if he sleeps," as if cheering the one who is in widowhood and persuading her to remain with the former, and not to bring in a second spouse. Your husband is not dead, he says, but is sleeping; and who is it that would not expect the sleeper to awake? But when he says that she is free after the death of her husband, he shows that she was a servant while her husband was alive; for while she is a servant and subject to law, even if she receives a bill of divorce six hundred times according to external laws, she is detected as committing adultery. For God will not judge you in that day according to these laws, but according to those which He Himself has set ^C. Moreover, the external laws do not simply posit this, but they punish the act itself, and are implacable concerning that sin. For from wherever a pretext for dissolution is found, they punish by the loss of property, casting him out naked and destitute of money. It is said that one of the ancient philosophers, having a wicked wife—a chatterer and a drunkard—when asked why he tolerated such a wife, said: "So that I may have a gymnasium and a wrestling school at home; for I shall be milder toward others, having been disciplined by this training every day." This philosopher is therefore said not to have repudiated his wicked wife; indeed, some even narrate that he married her for that reason. When, therefore, the Greeks are more philosophical than we, what defense shall we have when we treat with insult the one for whom God commanded to leave one's parents? What speech will be able to describe such ^D baseness, when wailing and groaning are carried on in the crossroads, and there is a rushing of neighbors and passers-by into the house of one who has committed such baseness, and who, like some wild beast, destroys the things within? It would be better for the earth to open up against one who commits such things, than for us to see him hereafter in the forum. Let us obey, I pray, the law of God, and let us neither cast out our wives nor take those who have been repudiated by others. For with what eye will you look at the husband of the woman who has been repudiated? With what eye will you look at his friends and servants? For if anyone, having taken the wife of a deceased man, suffers violence and is troubled when he looks at the image of the deceased, how will he live, how will he enter into the house, when he sees the living husband of his wife? With what mind, and with what eyes will he look at that man’s wife, who is now his own? Nay, one might say that she is neither his nor her own, for she who commits adultery is no one’s wife; for she has trampled upon her pacts with him, and has not come to you according to the appropriate laws. What madness would it not be to bring into one’s house a matter laden with so many evils! Is there such a scarcity of women that you should drag such destruction upon your own head? For the woman who was content to have taken her former husband shows that she would not have taken this one either in the beginning, if she had known the experience and the result of the matter beforehand; but she who brings in a second spouse to the bed of the former has given no small sign of her love for the world and her affection for earthly things. And while the first husband was alive, she was not affectionate toward anyone else; but this one, even if she has committed no sin with anyone else while her husband was alive, still, there were many others toward whom she was more affectionate than toward her husband; and she possessed neither the first nor the second as her own flesh. For the first was expelled by the second, and the second by that one; and she can neither remember the first rightly, while she attends to another after him, nor will she look at this one with convenient affection, since her mind is conformed to the one who has departed. For just as we are accustomed to persevere most in the same things when we have experienced a good beginning, but when we feel things to be grievous and difficult from the beginning, and from the very first line, as you might say, we quickly recoil when the affection of our will is extinguished: so too may women who have fallen into untimely widowhood deservedly abstain from second marriages. For she who has been involved in the same things for a long time and is well sated with them, as though she were going to attain the same, will again reach for equals; but she who has experienced the beginnings to be so grievous, with what will and hope will she return to the experiment of troublesome things? For if we admire and approve even those who abstain from their husbands while they are still alive, how is it not necessary to admire and praise those who show equal affection and benevolence to their dead husbands? We do not, therefore, cast out second marriages, but we praise those who are able to restrain themselves and to be content with their first marriage. For second marriages are often the beginning and occasion of fights and quarrels. For often the husband, sitting at the table, reminded of his first wife, sheds tears before the second; and she, being exasperated, leaps forward like a wild beast, demanding penalties for his love toward her; and if he wishes to praise the deceased, his praises are an occasion for war and quarrels. And to our enemies indeed who have departed we offer libations, and after they themselves are dead, we lay aside all enmity toward them; but in the case of wives, everything is contrary; for the one whom she has not seen nor heard, and from whom she has suffered nothing evil, she holds in hatred and turns away from, nor does death itself extinguish the hatred. Who has seen, who has heard of jealousy against dust, and war against ashes? But the evil does not stop here; but whether sons are born from the second wife, or are not born, there is war and contention again: for if they are not born, she is afflicted with greater pain, and looks upon the children of the former wife as enemies who injure her most, receiving a clearer sense of her own sterility through their life: if, however, children

^A are born, it is none the less a great evil. For he often feels kindly toward the departed wife, and cherishes her children, loving them and pitying their orphanhood; but she always wishes her own to be preferred. Hear, O husbands, hear, O wives, the affection of spouses, which they displayed toward one another even unto the point of danger. For after Abraham had dwelt in Gerar, he said of Sarah his wife, She is my sister (Gen. 20. 2): for he was afraid to say, She is my wife, lest the men of the city might kill him on her account. And Abimelech the king of Gerar sent and took Sarah. Consider with me the wintry storm of thoughts which the just man endured, when he saw his wife being led away, and was able to offer no defense. He bore all in silence, knowing that the Master would not overlook him, but would quickly provide help. And one may also admire the great affection of Sarah, which she displayed in order to snatch the just man from danger. For she was able to reveal the drama and, by telling the truth, escape the manifest outrage; but she endured all things courageously, so that she might secure salvation for the just man; and that which was said was fulfilled, They shall be two into one flesh (Gen. 2. 24). For just as they were one flesh, so did they care for each other’s salvation, and exhibited such great concord, as being one body and one soul. Let men hear these things, let women hear them, so that both they may show such great affection toward their husbands, and they may have so great goodwill toward them, and as having acquired one soul, and being one body, so may they transact all things. And God came to Abimelech in the night, and said: Behold, thou art dying because of the woman whom thou hast taken; she is one who has lived with a husband (Gen. 20. 3). Behold the philanthropy of God: since He saw that the just man, because of the fear of death, had bravely borne the removal of Sarah, and that the king had taken her thus as the sister of the just man, He finally displays His own providence, at once showing the just man to be more illustrious, and freeing Sarah from the outrage, and delivering the king ^B from the lawlessness. But Abimelech, it says, did not touch her, but actually makes an apology for the daring act, and says: Lord, wilt thou slay a righteous and ignorant nation? Did I not say, if I had known she was his wife, I would not have done this? Did I not do this without wishing to wrong the stranger? Did I not take her not as a wife, but as I was about to receive a sister, did I not do this, thinking even by this to honor him? Did he himself not say to me, She is my sister? And did she not say to me, He is my brother (Ib. v. 5)? What then does the philanthropist Master say? I too knew, ^C that thou didst this with a pure heart, that they themselves contrived this drama, and that thou, having been deceived by what was said by them, hast done this; and for this reason, so that thou might not sin because of their deception, I spared thee from sinning against me. Do not therefore pay attention to the man simply, as if he were one of the common crowd, but learn that he is among those who are highly esteemed by me, and of those who have great intimacy with me. Render therefore the woman to the man, for he is a prophet, and he will pray for thee, and thou shalt live (Ib. v. 7). For he, fearing death from thee, prepared this drama, and almost cooperated in the deception of Sarah; but know that his prayers will provide life. But if thou dost not render her, know that thou shalt die, thou and all that are thine. For not only thyself, but also all that are thine shalt thou pay the penalty for disobedience. And Abimelech, having arisen, called his servants, and spoke all these words into their ears; then he called also Abraham. Consider with me with how much prominence the just man is then introduced to the king, who a little before was considered contemptible, and knowing nothing of these things. He was learning therefore from the king himself the things that had happened to him from God on his account; for he said to him, What is this that thou hast done to us? What have we sinned against thee, that thou hast brought upon me and upon my kingdom a great sin (Ib. v. 9)? Does the punishment, he says, have to stop at me? My whole kingdom was about to be utterly destroyed because of the deceit that had happened through thee. What then didst thou see that thou didst this? For what cause? Having thought what? What then does Abraham say? I became anxious, he says, lest, because you were still held by error, you would have no concern for a righteous man, and having learned that she had become my wife, you might attempt to kill me because of desire for her. Do not therefore think that I have acted thus. For she is my sister by my father, but not by my mother; and she became my wife. Do not therefore condemn me. For even if fear of death placed me into this necessity, and the fearing lest because of her you might kill me, while keeping her for yourselves, yet not even so is that which was said by me a falsehood. Having said these things, the just man softened the anger of the king, and revealed his own virtue, and implanted in them sufficient instruction of godliness. The king, therefore, having respected the great fairness of the just man, rewards the patriarch with his own generosity. For he took, it says, Abimelech, a thousand didrachms, and sheep, and calves, and men-servants and maid-servants, and returned to him Sarah his wife (Ib. v. 14). Do you see the resourceful wisdom of God? For he who was fearing for his life, and doing everything in order to be able to escape it, not only escaped death, but has also been deemed worthy of such great boldness, and suddenly becomes illustrious. For such are the things of God: He not only frees those who strive to stand bravely against the temptations that come upon them from sorrowful things, but He also provides such joy within the very ^D sorrows, that we even have total forgetfulness of them, and come to be in great abundance of goods; as indeed happened in the case of this just man. For He not only honors him with such great gifts, but also gives him the authority of dwelling in his land. For behold, he says, my land is before thee, dwell where it pleases thee (Ib. v. 15). For since he learned that life had been granted to him through him and his prayers, he hastens to treat the stranger, the wanderer, the one known from nowhere, as a benefactor and guardian. And it came to pass, when Abraham had reached extreme old age, wishing to remove Isaac from the kinship of the Canaanites, so that he might not take a wife from thence, having called the oldest of his servants, he instructs him concerning this, and says: Put thy hand under my thigh, and I will adjure thee by the Lord the God of heaven and the earth, that thou take not a wife for my son Isaac from the daughters of the Canaanites, with whom I dwell in

^A in [my] own land, and will go unto my kindred, and take a wife for my son from thence. ^B Observe the command of the patriarch to the servant who was born in his house; consider how in olden times they used to be diligent, not seeking a great abundance of money, nor many riches and servants and as many yokes of land as possible, nor the bloom of outward beauty, but only the beauty of the soul and the nobility of character. But the patriarch, who was preoccupied with the virtue of the soul and fleeing the wickedness of the inhabitants, does this; while all others would never endure to think of such things, but even if the girl were full of a thousand evils, they seek only one thing, the abundance of money, and consider all other things secondary; not knowing that if the mind is corrupt, even if immense riches flow in, they will quickly return to extreme poverty, and the wealth will be of no use when there is not a soul capable of managing it rightly. Having ^C taken the camels, then, the servant, and from all the goods of his lord, setting out, he betook himself into Mesopotamia, to the city of Nahor, brother of Abraham, and gave rest to the camels outside the city by a well of water, and said: O Lord God of my lord Abraham, make my way prosperous before thee today, and show mercy unto my lord Abraham. And behold, I stand by the spring of water, and the daughters of the inhabitants are coming out to draw water: and it shall be that the maiden to whom I shall say, Incline thy pitcher that I may drink; and she shall say to me, Drink, and I will give thy camels to drink until they all cease; whom thou hast prepared for thy servant Isaac: and by this ^D I shall know that thou hast showed mercy unto my lord Abraham. Behold the prudence of the servant. For because he knew the patriarch’s hospitality, and that the maiden who was to be brought from there ought to be akin in character to the just man, he seeks no other sign, but from the will of the maiden he wishes to obtain the knowledge of her hospitality, and he would say: If, when I ask water of her, she should herself incline the pitcher, and not only grant what is asked, but also show the service of her own will, saying: I will also give thy camels to drink; then by offering water in this way she will have displayed the probity of her character sufficiently. Then, because he saw the efficacy of the patriarch’s prayers signified through works, and found the maiden whom he desired, and saw her immense hospitality (for she hastened, and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran still to the well to draw, and gave drink to all his camels; nor did she flee from him as from a stranger, nor did she refuse the one asking under the pretext of chastity), he learned at last, and inquired accurately into those things that pertained to her, and asked, Whose daughter was she? and, if there were a place with her father to lodge? And look at the maiden’s response: for when the servant asked whose daughter she was, she indicates not only her father, but also her father’s father, and says: I am the daughter of Bathuel, the son of Melcha, whom she bore to Nahor himself. And when the servant asked again about the place, whether there was room to lodge, she says: Not only room, but much straw and hay with us. Do you see in such an age both the greatest chastity, and the greatest humility, and immense hospitality? To how many riches is this not more precious? To how many treasures would you not think these things to be more excellent? This is the greatest dowry, this embraces countless goods, this is a treasure never exhausted. Having heard these things the servant, admiring the lavish hospitality, and having learned that he had not come to strangers, but into the house of Nahor, who was the brother of Abraham his lord, rejoicing over those things which had been said to him by the maiden, he worshipped the Lord, who, because of His benevolence toward the patriarch, had exhibited such care for him, that He had thus made all things easy and prosperous for him: and said: Blessed be the Lord God of my lord Abraham, who has not taken away His justice and His truth from my lord Abraham. And then he himself indicates who he is to the maiden, and declares to her through the thanksgiving rendered to God, that he did not come from a strange house, but that he was the brother of Nahor, who had sent him. Having heard these things the maiden, running with much joy, announced to her parents what she had heard from the servant. And Laban ran to the man where the fountain was; and seeing him standing with the camels, said to him: Why do you stand outside? Come, enter: for I have already prepared the house, and a place for the camels. Then when he had entered, he untied the camels; and gave them straw and hay, and water to wash his feet and of the men who were with him, and set before them bread to eat. But here observe with me the servant’s great prudence. For what does he say? I will not eat, until I have taught you the cause, for which I have been sent, about to measure so great a way, and why I have arrived here from Canaan, and how I have been led into your house, that learning all these things, so also you might exhibit your benevolence toward my lord. And beginning to relate, he says: I am the servant of Abraham: the Lord however has blessed my lord greatly, and has given him sheep and calves, gold and silver, servants and handmaidens, camels and asses. And Sara the wife of my lord bore one son to my lord, after he had grown old, and he gave him all that was his. And my lord adjured me, saying: Thou shalt not take a wife for my son Isaac from the daughters of the Canaanites, with whom I dwell; but thou shalt go into the house of my father, and into my tribe, and thence shalt take a wife for my son. And he indeed commanded these things: I however, considering the difficulties, and regarding it with myself as an arduous matter, asked my lord: What if the woman will not want to come with me? And he said to me: The Lord, in whose sight I am well-pleasing, himself will send his angel with thee, and will make thy way prosperous; and thou shalt take a wife for my son from my tribe and from the house of my father. These things having commanded, and having prepared the way for me with such prayers, he sent me. Since therefore his prayers have been heard, and thus all things have been clearly dispensed by God, so that I have arrived to you; now you also exhibit what is yours; and if you should show mercy toward my lord, announce it to me, that I may know what I must do; if not, so that I may take another way. And the father and brother of the maiden say to him: From the Lord has this word gone forth; we shall not be able to say to you neither good nor evil: for it is not possible that this be done by us. Behold you have the maiden, having taken her, depart, and she shall be a wife to the son of thy lord, just as the Lord has spoken. Having heard these things from the father and brother, the servant worshipped the Lord, falling to the earth; and bringing out gold and silver vessels and raiment, gave them to Rebecca; and thereafter served her with confidence, as one already betrothed to Isaac by his words: with gifts also honored

[... and] he left his brother and his mother. And when he saw the command of the master brought to its effect, he turned to take his rest. For he ate, he says, and drank, he and the men who were with him, and they slept. And rising in the morning he said: Send me away, that I may return to my master. But the brothers and the mother said: Let the maiden remain with us about ten days, and after that you shall depart. But he said to them: Why do you delay and procrastinate, when God has granted me such facility in all things? And they said: Let us call the maiden, and ask her. And they called her and said to her: Will you go with this man? And she said: I will go. And they sent forth Rebecca and her possessions, and the servant of Abraham, and those that were with him. And they blessed Rebecca, and said to her: Be you into thousands of myriads, and may your seed inherit the gates of your enemies. And Rebecca arising, and her maids, they mounted upon the camels and they departed with the man. You see how the patriarch brings a bride, drawing water, carrying the pitcher upon her shoulders, and mounting upon the camels? Are there anywhere mules with their necks glittering with gold? Is there any swarm of servants, or much of that luxury which you see now? Nowhere; but such was the bravery of the women of old, that they even mounted upon the camels, and thus traveled. Do you see from the things done by Abraham for his son, how the parents of old were eager to take wives for their own children? How before money they sought the nobility of the soul? Are there anywhere deeds of gift? Are there anywhere legal contracts, and the other ridiculous things that happen now? For to them there was nothing of the sort, but the greatest and most secure deed of gift for the maiden was her character. And you shall know this, when you see the maiden brought back to the bridegroom. For he went out, he says, Isaac to meditate in the field; and looking up with his eyes, he saw the camels coming, upon which Rebecca sat. And Rebecca seeing Isaac, dismounted from the camel, and said to the servant: Who is that man walking in the field to meet us? And learning that he is the one who is about to take her, She covered herself, he says, with her veil. And when he arrived, the servant narrated all things with accuracy to Isaac. Observe how nowhere are these superfluous and useless things; nowhere is there diabolical pomp; nowhere are there cymbals and flutes and dances, and those satanic banquets, but all is gravity, all is wisdom, all is gentleness. For he entered, he says, Isaac into the house of his mother, and took Rebecca; and she became his wife, and he loved her. Let women imitate this, let men emulate this, and let them be eager thus to take their brides, so that both the longing of the bridegroom may increase, and the chastity of the maiden may be intensified, and they might pass their life with pleasure, sustained by the inclination of God. But if you wish to show pride at a marriage that involves profit, call the choirs of the poor. But are you ashamed and do you blush? And what could be worse than this madness? When you are drawing the devil into your house, you think you are doing nothing shameful; but when you are about to bring in Christ, do you blush? But, he says, no one in the city has done this. But be eager to initiate it, and become the leader of this good custom, so that those who come after may refer it to you. And if anyone emulates and imitates this act, the grandchildren, and those from the grandchildren, will have words to say to those who inquire, that: So-and-so first introduced this good law, and that which is accomplished by others will bring the reward to you, the first planter of those fruits. And just as when soft men and mimes are dancing there, the devil revels in the midst; so also when the poor are entering, Christ is present. And from that expenditure of yours there is no profit, but very much harm would arise; but from the expenses on these, you shall quickly receive a very great fruit. And that this is true, learn from the maiden who was in Joppa; for even her, once lying dead, the poor who were fed by her, standing around and shedding tears, resurrected and led back to life, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom is the glory and the power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XV. On Avarice.

Why do you desire to be rich from avarice, O man, that for others the gold and silver might be stored up, but for you the curses and accusations? And that the defrauded one may be bitten and lament over the food of his necessities, and may drag a myriad of accusers against you? And, what is much more frightful than this, when at that day before the dreadful judgment seat, the man who suffered evil and has lost all his own possessions is brought into the midst, you having no one as an advocate, what will you say to the judge? For now you might be able to corrupt the judgment seat of men; but then you shall by no means be able to do so. Nay, not even this. For God sees what is happening, and is near to those who are wronged, even uncalled. And He is the one who is the avenger of him who is wronged; but since what is happening does not please God, He has an avenger indeed. And do not say to me: How does he profit from his success, being wicked? For in order to enjoy it, but not to the end. For do not, he says, emulate those doing evil (Ps. 35. 1); for as grass they shall quickly wither, and as green herbs they shall quickly fall. Avarice is a certain old leaven, which, into whatever it falls, and into whatever house it enters, it makes it impure: even if it has leavened only a little of an injustice that has been committed, it has spoiled many good things that were stored up. What then, he says, when not all suffer the same things from the many who do them? Most of all truly they do suffer, even if they do not suffer immediately in the sin itself: for if they escape now, they will suffer more greatly another time; for a greater punishment is awaiting them. Nay, if they even escape it, their heirs suffer the same things. And how is this just, he says? Just indeed: for since he received the inheritance of injustice, even if he himself did not do the seizing, but nevertheless he knew well that he possessed the things of another, and therefore he was worthy

of punishment. Yet, nonetheless, since the things that happen do not please God, he who defends everyone is not pleased. And do not say to me: "How is it that an evil man fares well?" For he does not fare well, but not to the end. For do not be jealous, since they shall quickly wither like the grass of the field, and like the green herb they shall quickly be dried up ^A. This leaven of greed is something old, and into whatever house it enters, it makes it unclean. For it leavens small ill-gotten gains along with the whole substance. Therefore, often those things which were brought in wrongly, and which lie put away, have cast out many things. When, therefore, you say, many who are greedy do not suffer the same things—they will most certainly be persuaded, even if they do not suffer them immediately, but if they escape, do not fear, rather: they are being kept for a greater punishment. But if they themselves escape and inherit their possessions, they will suffer the same things. And where is the justice in this, you say? And it is very just. For he who succeeds to those things that are full of injustice, even if he himself did not seize them, nevertheless he knows well that they belong to another, and therefore it is just for him to suffer. These things even the laws of those outside ^B know, which, leaving aside those who were the first to take and carry them off, command those who find them to pay back everything. If, therefore, you know those who have been injured, restore it with much interest, according to Zacchaeus; if you do not know, distribute them among the needy, and thus you will relieve the evil. For if we give everything that is another's, we will do no good. Zacchaeus indicates this, who said that he was then placating God, when he gave four times as much as he had taken. But we, when we seize ten thousand, and give a little, think that we are placating God. For if Cain, because he did not offer the first fruits, and that not by injuring another, paid the ultimate punishment: we, when we offer from rapine and greed, how shall we not suffer heavier things? Why do you insult the Master, offering Him unclean gifts ^C? Christ does not want to be fed by greed, nor does He accept such-like nourishment. It is better to neglect one who is perishing from hunger, than to feed Him from such a source; it is better to have nothing, than to give to others the things of another. For tell me: if you saw two people, one naked, and the other truly having a garment; then, having stripped the one who had the garment, you clothed the naked one, would you not be doing an injustice? It is manifest to everyone. But if, by giving to another what you have taken, you have nevertheless committed an injustice, and you have not had mercy: what punishment will you not spend, when you have given the smallest part of what you have seized, and have called it alms? If Lazarus, having been affected by no injury from the rich man, but because he was not served by those things which were his, stood as a bitter accuser against him: what defense will they use, who, beyond the fact that they do not have mercy from their own, also take away the things of others? If those who did not feed Christ when He was hungry are assigned ^D to the inextinguishable fire with the devil; how much punishment will those who kill Him with hunger through the things they seize, and strip Him of His clothing, and not only do not gather in the stranger, but also drive him away; and not only do not visit the infirm, but rather even crush them; and not only do not visit the one in chains, but even care to have the one who is released cast into prison, incur? If he who loves those who love him will be in no better condition than the heathen: what pardon will he obtain, who injures those by whom he has been affected by no injury? If he who does not impart his own, has as an accuser him whom he did not pity, what pardon will he deserve, who also seizes the things of another? For not only to seize the things of another, but also not to impart one's own to others, is rapine and greed and plunder. If those who did not feed Christ when He was hungry drew such fire upon their own heads, what relief will they obtain, who seize things that do not belong to them, and unjustly acquire the things of others, and overturn the houses of orphans and widows? Let us then shudder at this matter, let us flee from sin: we will flee, however, if we think of those who before us did injury, who were greedy, and who departed: do others not enjoy their assets and labors, while they themselves are in torture and punishment and incurable evils? Is it not, therefore, of the extreme of madness, to be broken and afflicted, so that we may be worn out by labors while living, and after death undergo intolerable tortures and punishments? 668 What, therefore, is more miserable than the plunderer? Because things gathered are often divided by enemies and foes among themselves: but he, taking away the sins he has accumulated from these, departs, to be called to account with great diligence for those things in which he has transgressed in them. What, therefore, could be more wretched than the greedy, when they make their life more wretched than any death, with care and anxiety of mind and constant vigil feeding upon it and little by little consuming it; and they drive away every pleasure and the distinction between virtue and vice? And in gaining, indeed, even if they acquire all the things of all, they feel no pleasure, because they crave more: but in receiving loss, when they have lost even an obol, they think themselves to have suffered the most bitter of all things, and to have fallen from life itself. And if such a person has a wife, if children, if friends, unless it is allowed for him to gain in every way, they seem to be enemies even more to those who are by nature his enemies. With reason, someone says, nothing is more cruel than a greedy man. For one who is of such a kind sells himself, and walks about as a common enemy of the whole world; grieving that the earth, instead of crops, and the fountain, instead of streams, and mountains, instead of stones, do not produce gold; torturing himself at the success of others, and contracting his soul at common goods; shunning every occasion from which it is not allowed to take silver; bearing everything from which it is allowed to scrape together even two obols; hating everyone, poor as well as rich; the former, lest they approach and ask for a handout; the latter indeed, because he does not have the things which they also possess. He thinks everyone possesses his things, and as if he were being injured by everyone, he is thus animated against everyone. And what a sword is to one who rages, this is wealth to the greedy one; or rather something far more bitter. For he who rages, having taken and having driven the sword into himself, both frees himself from rage, and does not receive another blow: but the greedy one receives ten thousand wounds heavier than that, daily, not freeing himself from rage, but making it more intense; and the more wounds he has received, the more he provides himself with matter for a heavier blow. What, therefore, could be more wretched than the greedy man? When, besides the fact that he loses his soul, he also wears down his body with countless cares, and defrauds himself of delights and pleasure and honor and any glory, on account of which men primarily sin much. And what is harsher, having been injured by nothing, he is roused and arms himself against those who have not injured him at all, and casting all honorable things from his mind, becomes an enemy to everyone. For those who have been affected by injury by him, hate him, as having been affected by evil: but those who have not yet suffered anything, fearing that they might suffer, and grieving in the place of those who have suffered, manifest the same hostility. Moreover, the greater and more powerful, because they are bitten and indignant for the more humble, or rather, even being jealous, pursue him with enmities and hatred. But why do I speak of men? When he has God also as an adversary, what hope will be left to him, or what consolation? Are these riches, to do injury, tell me? Is this not more bitter than to be a slave to punishment? For the slave of punishment indeed has a body in chains, but this one truly has his soul. Do you see him in chains, and do you not have pity? Therefore, he says, when I hate, because he is in chains he [does] not...

have the liberty of thought, and is deprived of luxury and pleasure and honor and all the glory for which men most especially sin. And what is more grievous is that, while having been wronged by no one, he behaves like a wild beast and arms himself against those who have wronged him in nothing, and having poured all the good things out of his soul, he has made himself a war-monger against everyone. For those who are wronged hate him, ^A inasmuch as they have suffered evil; and those who have not yet suffered, fearing lest they should suffer, and sympathizing with those who have suffered, display the same war; and the greater and more powerful ones, being stung and indignant on behalf of the humbler ones, and furthermore being also envious, are likewise his enemies and hate him. And why do I speak of men? For when he has even God as his enemy, what hope or consolation will there be for him henceforth? Is this wealth, tell me, to commit injustice? Is this not more grievous than a convict? The convict is bound in body, but this man is bound in his soul. Do you see him a prisoner, and do you not have pity on him? For this reason, he says, I hate him, because he is bound not by necessity, but by his own choice, having drawn the chain upon himself. Again, you [stand] against those who are wealthy; again, you all [stand] against those who are being plundered. You are not satiated by eating and biting the poor; and I am not satiated by correcting you. You are always stuck to the rich; I am always stuck to the poor. Depart from my sheep, depart from my flock; but if you go about ruining my flock, do you complain that I am pursuing you? I am not pursuing you; I am pursuing the wolf. If you are not a wolf, I do not pursue you; but if I do pursue you, blame yourself for having become a wolf. If indeed a king should order us to abstain from the property of others, or rather even to give of our own, we all contribute readily; but when God commands us not to plunder, ^B we do not endure it; rather, we prefer men before God; and how is this not terrible? For if even by honoring a man equally with God we insult God, how much more when we prefer men! The word is heavy and burdensome; I know it myself; but show me that it is burdensome by fleeing from the deed; but if you have not shown fear of the deed, how can I believe you when you say, "We fear the words, and they are heavy to us"? You weigh yourselves down by the deed, and no word does so; but if I say the words, the deeds of which you yourselves perform, why are you indignant? And how is it not absurd? Would that it might be a lie, the things being said by me. I wish myself to receive the reputation of being a scold on that day, as having scolded you in vain and to no purpose, rather than to see you accused for such things. For he who digs a pit for his neighbor shall fall into it. And just as women in labor are torn by pains, so also the one who plots deceit, before he has wronged his neighbor, is himself torn and in pain, and not just anyhow, but with much bitterness. For even if a man be wicked ten thousand times over, the tribunal of the conscience is not corrupted; for it is natural and was placed in us by God from the beginning; and even if we contend ten thousand times, that [conscience] stands there crying out, punishing, and condemning; and there is no one living in wickedness who does not endure ten thousand pains, both when planning evil and when bringing the plan into action. ^C For what is more wicked than Ahab? And yet, when he desired the vineyard, consider what great pain he had. For although he was a king and ruled over all, and had no one to gainsay him, since he could not bear the verdict of his conscience, he entered [his house] sullen, looking down, confused, carrying much gloom upon his face, proclaiming the judgment of his conscience upon his countenance, and being unable to conceal the pain that was engendered in him by his grief. Do you wish to know clearly how wealth does not allow men to be men, but [makes them] wild beasts and demons? A drought once overtook our city, and it was possible to see the heaven having become bronze, and the death of all deaths being anticipated day by day, and God being entreated to loosen this fear; by whose lovingkindness, beyond all hope, much and boundless rain was poured down from above. When therefore everyone was in a festival and a holiday, inasmuch as they had come up from the very gates of death, one of the wealthy, sullen, downcast, deadened by grief, was going about; and as many were inquiring the cause, he could not even contain it within, but being goaded by the tyranny of this grievous passion, he brought the cause into the middle: "For possessing," he says, "myriads of measures of grain, I do not have how to dispose of them now." What are you saying? Are you pained that not all perished, in order that you might gather gold? Have you not heard what Solomon says: "He who withholds grain is cursed by the people" (Prov. 11:26)? But you go about as a common enemy of the good things of the world, and an adversary of the generosity of the Master, and a friend—or rather, a slave—to mammon? For ought not that tongue of yours to have been cut out? Ought not the heart that gave birth to these words to have been shredded? For what could be more pitiable than that rich man, who is pained for this very reason, that he possesses boundless [wealth], and who is vexed as if having reckoned that he has lost [it], and who prays every day for a famine to occur, so that gold might accrue to him? How shall I sketch for you, do you wish, the passions of the rapacious person and the plunderer? For what is more impure than those hands? What is more shameless or more impudent and dog-like than those eyes? He does not see men as men, nor heaven as heaven, but thinks everything to be money. For the eyes of men are accustomed to see the poor exhausted, and to be softened; but the plunderers see the poor, and are rather emboldened. The eyes of men do not covet the things given to others, but even pour out their own to others; but these will not endure it unless they take everything and make it their own. The eyes of men do not endure to see the body of a neighbor naked; but these, if they do not strip everyone, and store the holdings of everyone at home, never find room; ^D nay rather, not even then are they filled. Wherefore one would not say that the hands of these are merely those of wild beasts, but much fiercer and more grievous than those. For it is sufficient that even wolves, when they have had their fill of such food, withdraw; but these have no fill. And yet, for this reason God made hands for us, that we might help others, not that we might plot; since if we were meant to use them for this, it would be better for them to be cut off and to be without them. For when someone seeing a sheep being torn by a wild beast feels pain, and his soul is bitten, but seeing this same thing being performed upon one of his own kin, does not think he is doing anything terrible; how could such a one be a man, and not a beast, and worse than a beast? For the beasts are such by nature; but the greedy, possessing gentleness by nature, force themselves contrary to nature into the bestial. Of such [men], even their...

[LATIN COLUMN]

671 ple: and to them the words of God appear to be a fable. It is truly the behavior of the most savage beasts, to be the first to attack others with injury when one has been harmed by no one; nay, even more savage than beasts. For those creatures, if you let them live in the desert and do not force them into a need for self-defense by constricting them, will never do harm, nor will they advance, nor bite, but will go their own ways. You, however, since you are a human being, a partaker of reason, honored with such great authority, honor, and glory, do you not imitate even the beasts [in your conduct] toward those who are of the same kind as yourself, but rather you injure and devour your brother? And from where will you be able to make your defense? Do you not see the bee, whose labor both kings and commoners consume for their good health, how it is of no avail to it if it should be killed if it does evil, but perishes together with its sting? By this, learn not to harm a neighbor; for we ourselves shall be the first to receive death from this: and we may perhaps have harmed them a little, but we ourselves shall no longer live, just as the bee does not. For this reason, money is called *chremata*, as if you were to say, "useful things," so that we might use it as is meet, not that we might guard it; for this is not possessing, but being possessed. For if we look to this, that we may always increase it, and not that we may enjoy it as is meet, the order is reversed, and it rather has us, not we it. He who loves money not only will not love his enemies, but will even hate his friends. Nor does such a person know kinship, nor does he remember acquaintance, nor does he revere age, nor does he have any friend; but he is hostile toward all, and above all others toward himself, not only because he loses his soul, but also because he wears himself out with innumerable cares. And he indeed who despises money puts a limit to desire: but he who wishes to grow rich and to store up more, ignites it much more, nowhere stops; but even if he should receive ten thousand talents, he desires as many more; and if he has obtained these, he seeks yet others as many; and proceeding further, he desires even the mountains, the earth, the sea, and all things to become gold for himself, raving with a certain new madness, and that a terrible one, and one which can never be extinguished. ^B For when we are commanded to give to others, if we snatch what belongs to others: what, I pray, is our hope of salvation? If you will be punished for not feeding the hungry, what pardon will you deserve if you have even stripped the naked? Tell me, furthermore, if someone were to lead you into the land of the Persians to see what is there, and you were about to return; then he were to command you to build a house: would you not condemn his extreme stupidity, in that he would command you to make such untimely expenditures? How, therefore, do you do this very thing on earth, which you are about to leave shortly? "But I shall leave it to my children," you say. But they too leave it shortly after you, frequently even before you. ^C For this reason, therefore, do you act greedily and snatch others' property, so that a horse’s bit may be smeared with gold for you? And likewise the roof of the house and the capitals of the columns? And what hell would not be deserved for these things, when you cast your brother, whom your Lord has honored with such great honor, into innumerable calamities so that you may adorn stones and the pavement and the bodies of irrational animals, which do not even feel, with ornaments? And the column is cared for diligently; but a man, or rather Christ himself, is driven to extreme famine for the sake of the column, and all the things mentioned [before]. And if it be necessary to prepare a throne, or a footstool to support [the] feet, all things are prepared from gold and silver: but for the member of Christ, and for him for whose sake He descended from heaven, not even necessary food is provided, but Christ has become more worthless to you than all things. What is more bitter than such iniquity? How many rivers of fire would suffice for such a soul, when other animals love their own kind, and the kinship of nature has sufficient weight among them for mutual love, yet you, having in nature numberless reasons for friendship, show yourself more savage than them? Let us not, I pray, irritate God on both sides, by gathering from where we ought not, and by scattering where it is not convenient. For what anger would you not deserve, when you give to a prostitute, while passing by a poor man? For even if you provide from just labors: does this not carry blame, that you provide a reward for immorality, and that you give a prize for the very things for which you ought to punish? When, moreover, you are stripping orphans, and doing injury to widows, to feed licentiousness, think how great the fire will be for those who have dared such things. Fear, you who do injury to the poor: you have power, riches, and the favor of judges; but they have the most powerful weapons of all, groans and lamentations, and that very thing, to suffer injury, which draw help from heaven. ^D These weapons undermine houses, overturn foundations, have destroyed cities, have submerged entire nations. God carries such great providence for those who are wronged. For large and valid weapons are the groans of men who are suffering injury. God reveres this patience of theirs, when they are affected by evil, and utter no wicked word, but only groan and deplore their own evils: and to them indeed He becomes propitious, but from those who harass them He takes punishment. Let us therefore flee from doing injury, that we may have God propitious, through the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and empire unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XVI

If you wish to repress an inflated man, do not initiate long sermons, but only recall nature to his memory, and sharply rebuke him, saying thus: "Why is earth and ashes proud?" (Eccli. 10:9). But if he says these things are so after death, recall the living man himself to modesty, and teach him that he is earth and ashes: for he is ignorant that he already is these things. He looks upon the beauty of the body, he looks upon power, the obsequiousness of flatterers, the parasites who follow him: he is clothed in precious garments, he is fortified with a great amplitude of power: imagination deceives him, and causes him to forget his nature; he awaits only the spectacle of death: he does not come to the sepulchers and the tombs of his ancestors; regarding things present...

^A he looks alone, and considers nothing of the things to come. Teach him, therefore, from this point forward, that he is earth and ashes, so that he may receive the medicine while he is still alive. For having said, "Why is earth and ashes proud?" he adds, "Because in his life his inward parts have become abominable" (Eccl. 10:10); by "inward parts" he means the bowels, the belly that is full of corruption and much impurity and stench. Behold the vileness and the fragility of our substance. Do not wait for your own day of death to learn your weakness; test the man while he is still alive, and in your discourse penetrate into his bowels, and you will see all of our nothingness. But do not be cast down; for it is not out of hatred for us, but in mercy, that God has thus acted, providing us with great occasions for humility. For if a man, who is earth and ashes, has dared to say, "I will ascend into heaven" (Isai. 14:13), had he not possessed the bridle of his nature, into what folly of mind would he not have fallen? When, therefore, you see someone puffed up, lifting his neck, raising his eyebrows, being carried in a chariot, threatening, casting into prison, acting insolently, handing men over to death, say to him, "Why is earth and ashes proud? because in his life his inward parts have become abominable." These things are said not only about a private citizen, but also about him who sits upon the royal throne. For do not look at the purple, nor the diadem, nor the golden garments; but examine the nature itself, and you will see that earth is the substance of these things. "For all the glory of man is as the flower of grass" (1 Pet. 1:24). Why do you think highly of yourself, O man, and for what reason? Descend from this empty inflation, consider the vileness of your nature: are you not earth and ashes, dust and powder? smoke and shadow, grass and the flower of grass? And do you think highly of yourself while living in such a nature, tell me? And what could be more ridiculous than this? But you rule over many men? And what is the benefit of this, when you rule over men, but are a captive and a slave to your passions? Just as if someone at home were beaten by his servants and received wounds, but upon casting himself out into the marketplace thought highly of himself because of his rule over others. You are a slave to all the passions, and yet you think highly of yourself because you rule over those of your own kind? I wish you ruled over those, and were their equal in dignity. For if he who is arrogant over things which are actually good is worthy of condemnation, and loses the reward for all those things; he who is puffed up over things that are nothing, and swells with pride because of present glory, how would he not be the most ridiculous of all? ^B O miserable and wretched man, while your soul is being corrupted by a most grievous disease, and you are in the utmost poverty, do you think highly of yourself because you have so many talents of gold? Because you have a multitude of slaves? But these things are not yours; and if you do not part with them by choice, you will often do so against your will, in favor of those to whom you did not wish to give them, those whom you did not even want to behold before. For the substance of human affairs is nothing other than ash and powder and smoke and shadow, and what is even more worthless than these. For tell me, what do you think is great? What kind of rank do you consider great? That of the consuls? For the multitude thinks there is nothing greater than this rank. Therefore, for him who has attained such brilliance, for him who is greatly admired, the one who is not a consul has no less; both he and the other are in the same rank; for in like manner, after a little while, both are not. When did it happen, and for how long, tell me? For two days? This happens even in dreams. But, you say, it is a dream. And what of that? For are not the things that happen by day a dream, tell me? Why do we not rather call these the reality? Just as dreams, when the day has overtaken them, are proven to be nothing, so too, when the night has overtaken them, these things also are proven to be nothing; and just as no one rejoices during the day at what happened in a dream, so too it is not possible to enjoy during the night what happens by day. You have become consul? I too in a dream. But I by day, and you by night. And what of that? Not even so do you have something more than I, unless perhaps the being called "so-and-so is consul," for a time, and the having the pleasure from the words, makes one have more. If I say, "So-and-so is consul," and I favor the people, does it not perish as soon as it is said? Thus also are these things; as soon as he appeared as consul, he is no more. But let us posit even a year, and three, and four; where are those who for ten years have been consuls? Nowhere. But Paul is not so; for he was brilliant always, even while living, not for one day, nor two, nor ten and twenty, nor ten and twenty years; but even when he died, and the four-hundredth year has now passed, he is still brilliant even now, and much more brilliant than when he lived. And these things are on earth; but the brilliance in the heavens, what language could ever express it? And just as it is possible to see the waves of the sea, now being raised to an immeasurable height, and suddenly again being brought low; in the same way, we see those who pursue arrogance, now thinking highly of themselves, and raising their eyebrows, and being excited about the things of the present life; but suddenly they are brought low, and driven into the utmost poverty. These also the blessed David was hinting at when he said: "Do not fear when a man becomes rich, or when the glory of his house is multiplied" (Ps. 48:17). He did well to say, "Do not fear." Do not let the abundance of wealth, he says, and the brilliance of glory disturb you; for you will see him not long hence lying on the ground, ^C inactive, dead, cast away, becoming food for worms, stripped naked of all these things, and having been able to take with him nothing at all (for they do not accompany those who depart from here), but having left everything here, and having put on only his wickedness, and the heavy burdens of sins collected for him from this. Justly, therefore, has it been called by the ancients "vainglory"; for it is empty within, having nothing useful; but just as masks seem to be brilliant and desirable, but are empty within, ^D which is why, despite being more attractive than the bodily features, they have never persuaded anyone to love them; so too, or rather more miserably, is the glory derived from the many. For nothing is so

alienated from the loving-kindness of God, and nothing delivers one into the flame of Gehenna, as the tyranny of vainglory. For if this should be present with us, even if we perform temperance, or virginity, or fasting, or prayers, or alms-giving, or whatever else, our entire life becomes impure; for, says he, "The impure before the Lord is every one who is proud of heart." So great an evil is vainglory, because it not only commands those whom it has once seized to seek vice, but it also exists alongside the virtues; and since it cannot drive us out from them, it works great damage within virtue itself, forcing us to undergo the labors while depriving us of the fruits. For it is not possible to obtain both desires; it is indeed possible to obtain both, if we do not desire both, but the one that is from heaven; he, however, who loves both cannot obtain both. For he who performs something good because he hunts for glory from men, whether he is able to enjoy this or not, has received his full reward here, and will receive no retribution there for it. Why? Because by acting first, he has deprived himself of the Judge's liberality, preferring the glory of men to the reckoning of the just Judge. But he who performs some spiritual work for this reason alone, that he may please the One with the sleepless eye, for him both the treasure remains undiminished and the integrity of virtue; and from this, a good hope already suggests to him much consolation: and besides the fact that his retribution is kept for him in an inviolable treasury, the good opinion of men also follows him. ^B For they will follow this very thing more abundantly if we despise it, if we do not seek it, if we do not pursue it. For in the circus games, those who drive the horses—while the entire populace is applauding and pouring forth a myriad of favorable acclamations—do not turn around, nor do they perceive any pleasure from the delightful acclamation of the others; but they look to one alone, namely the king sitting in their midst, and attending to his every nod, they despise the whole multitude, and only then do they glory when he honors them with the crown. What, therefore, could be more wretched than those who exercise virtue for the show of men, and disfigure their faces with fastings, and make their prayers in the crossroads? Since they indeed sustain the labors, but are lacking in every reward. What are you doing, O man? Are you about to render an account of your deeds to another, and do you invoke another as a witness of what is done? You have one judge, and you appoint another as spectator? Do you not see the charioteers, who, with the whole city sitting overhead, in the competition of horses, across the entire part of the stadium, strive to overturn the chariots of their rivals only where they see the king sitting? They esteem one eye more trustworthy than so many eyes. But you, seeing the King of the angels himself, who is present as the judge of your contest, abandoning Him do you take refuge in the eyes of fellow servants? Because of this, surely, after infinite struggles, after many sweats, you depart without a crown, and go away to the judge of the contest without a prize. For how is it not absurd that a servant does everything he does according to the pleasure of his master, and requires nothing more than his gaze, and is not drawn to look to the eyes of others, even if those looking are great, but observes one alone, that his master may be a spectator; while we, having such a Master, seek other spectators, who can indeed help nothing, but can harm by their gaze, and render all our labor vain? But if someone, by being proud in a good deed, has lost everything, how much more punishment will he be worthy of, who does this while sinning? ^C For to be puffed up in spirit while sinning is far graver than to sin. If to boast in those things which are truly good is foolishness, how much more in those things which are nothing? For truly nothing makes men wicked and insane as much as being intent upon the opinion of the multitude: nor does anything make them upright and constant as much as despising it. Therefore, there is need of an extremely strong soul for one who must sustain such an impetus and violence of spirit. For if he happens to live prosperously, he prefers himself to all others; but if he suffers the opposite, he wants to bury himself, submerged by the sickness. And attend to what I say. King Uzziah at one time transgressed the boundaries, and overstepping the measure of royal power, entered into the temple, wishing with authority to offer incense. What, therefore, did the priest do? "It is not lawful for you," he says, "to offer incense: you are crossing the boundaries: do not seek what is not granted; therefore you are also losing what you have received: this is not yours, but mine. Have I snatched your purple? Do not you snatch my priesthood." He, however, did not obey, but puffed up with arrogance, entered the temple, and opened the Holy of Holies, wishing to offer the incense. Since therefore the priest was slighted, and the word of the priesthood was trampled upon, and he could do nothing further except to rebuke and show the freedom of speech: but the other was moving his weapons, and was using the abundance of his wealth: the priest says, "I have done what is mine, I can do nothing more; help, Lord, the priesthood which is being trampled upon, whose laws are being violated and whose rights are being subverted." And see what happens. ^D Immediately leprosy broke out on his forehead. Where there was impudence, there also was the punishment. Did you see the clemency of God in punishing? He did not send down lightning, he did not shake the earth, he did not disturb the heaven, but the leprosy broke out; and not in any other place, but on the forehead, so that like letters placed on a pillar, and as it were a law in a high place, they might say: "Do not do such things, that you may not suffer such things." Why, therefore, do you stretch your neck, tell me? Why do you walk on your tiptoes? Why do you knit your brow? Why do you puff out your chest? You cannot make a hair white or black, and yet do you boast as if you have power over all things? Perhaps you would like wings to be born for you, so that you would not walk on the earth. How shall I address you and demolish your arrogance? Shall I address you as ash and dust, and smoke and filth? But I will not yet have attained the likeness exactly. You seem to me to be comparable to burnt tow: for that, while it seems to swell after burning and rise up, if it sustains a slight touch of the hand, it is entirely flattened, and appears more vile than any ash. And just as bubbles of water, while rising to a height, break easily, so too does vainglory puffing itself up in a very short time. For there is no evil equal to arrogance. For since the devil was not like this from the beginning, he became a devil; and the first man, having been puffed up by these hopes from the devil, was thrown down and became mortal; having the expectation of being God, and what he believed

what he had, he lost. Therefore, God also, upbraiding him and mocking his folly, said: "Behold, Adam has become as one of us." And in the case of blessed Job, if the devil, having received slight permission, razed his house to the ground, devoured his body, wrought such a tragedy, destroyed his substance, overwhelmed his children, pierced his flesh, sent his wife, and prepared his friends, ^B his enemies, and his servants to say such things: if he had not been held by ten thousand bonds, how would he not have ravaged everyone? For this beast is wicked and insatiable; and if it were not continually bridled, it would destroy and turn everything upside down. For this reason, the Master, being a lover of mankind, does not give it a place against everyone; to whom belongs glory and power, now and always, and for the ages of ages. Amen.

Homily XVII. Concerning Envy.

^C Nothing is so accustomed to divide and tear us apart from one another as envy and jealousy, that grievous disease, deprived of every excuse, and much more grievous than the root of all evils, avarice. For the avaricious man is pleased when he himself receives; but the envious man is pleased when another does not receive, considering the misfortune of others to be his own benefit: what could be more insane than this? For, neglecting his own evils, he pines away at the prosperity of others, making heaven inaccessible to himself, and even before heaven, the present life insupportable. For neither is a moth sitting upon wood and wool accustomed to eat them away as does the fever of envy, which consumes the very bones of the envious and corrupts the sobriety of the soul. No one would err in calling the envious worse than beasts and demons. For the former, whether needing food or previously provoked by us, then arm themselves against us; but the latter, even having been treated well, often behave as those who injure their benefactors. And while the demons cherish an implacable hatred toward us, they do not plot against those of the same kind; but these people neither respect the kinship of nature, nor spare their own salvation, but before those who are envied they punish their own souls, filling them with all tumult and despondency for no reason and in vain. Such is envy, than which no wickedness could be worse. For the adulterer both reaps a certain pleasure and in a brief time completes his sin; but the envious man punishes and torments himself before the envied, and never ceases from sin, but is continuous in the committing of it. ^D For just as a pig rejoices in the mire, and a demon in our injury, so too does this man rejoice in the evils of his neighbor; and if anything unpleasant happens, then he rests and breathes, considering the calamities of others his own pleasure, and the goods of others his own evils. And just as beetles are nourished by dung, so too are these nourished by the misfortunes of others, being common enemies and foes of nature. And while others pity an irrational animal being slaughtered, these, seeing a human being treated well, become hostile and tremble and turn pale. And what could be worse than this madness? Why do you turn pale, tell me, and tremble, and stand in terror? What terrible thing has happened? That your brother is illustrious, renowned, and esteemed? Therefore you ought to be crowned and to rejoice and to glorify God, because you see your own member illustrious and renowned. But you are pained because God is being glorified? See where the war tends. "It is not this that grieves me," he says, "but I wished for God to be glorified through me." Therefore, rejoice that your brother is esteemed, and God is again glorified through you. For if he were even an enemy and a foe, but God were glorified through him, for this reason you ought to have made him a friend; but you make a friend an enemy, because God is glorified through the prosperity of that man. And how else could you show your war against Christ? Therefore, even if someone works signs, even if acts of virginity, even if fasts, even if sleeping on the ground he displays, and through this virtue reaches even to the angels, yet if he be subject to the passion of envy, he is more accursed than all. For if loving those who love us leaves us with nothing more than the Gentiles, where will he who envies those who love him stand? For indeed, it is worse to envy than to make war. For he who makes war, the cause being resolved for which there was war, has also dissolved the enmity; but the envious man could never become a friend. And the one displays the battle openly, but the other [does so] shadowed; and the one often has a reasonable cause to state for the war, but the other [has] nothing other than madness and a satanic mind. And just as he who does injustice does not commit injustice, but is treated unjustly; so too, he who plots against his neighbor destroys himself. And just as, if we treat our neighbors unjustly, we treat ourselves unjustly, so too, treating them well, we treat ourselves well. For he who hears false things about himself, not only has he not been treated unjustly, but he also has the greatest reward. For not the one suffering, but the one doing evil, this is the one worthy of punishment, unless that one provides reasonable handles for the accusation. And just as it is impossible for the virtuous man to be well spoken of by everyone, so it is impossible to be ill spoken of by everyone, unless he himself provides the occasions for himself from many places. But public accusations often make people more brazen and shameless. For as long as many of the sinners see that it is possible to escape notice, they readily choose to return; but when they lose their reputation among the many, they fall into despair and slip into shamelessness. But you were treated unjustly by him; why then do you treat yourself unjustly? For he who seeks revenge thrusts the sword against himself. If, therefore, you wish both to benefit yourself and to take revenge on him, speak well of the one who did you injustice; but if you speak ill, you will not be believed, receiving the suspicion of hostility. For enmity, encountering the minds of the hearers, does not allow what is said to be inserted into their hearing. Therefore, do not speak ill, lest you also defile yourself; nor weave mire.

^A or bricks, but weave crowns from roses and violets and other flowers; nor bring dung from your mouth, like beetles: for such are those who speak ill; they are the first to perceive the stench. For all turn away from a slanderer, as from someone smelling of something rotten, like a leech or a beetle fed on dung, whose deeds are those of others; but the one who has a mouth that gives praise, and a tongue that speaks good words, him they receive as a common member and as a true brother. For what harm did Cain do to Abel? Did he not, against his will, send him more swiftly to the kingdom, while sinking himself into countless evils? What damage did Esau bring to Jacob? Was not the latter rich and enjoying countless goods, while the former was cast out of his father's house, and after that treachery wandered in foreign lands? Moreover, the brothers of Joseph, what worse evil did they inflict upon him, even when they proceeded to the point of bloodshed? Did they not suffer famine and face extreme dangers, while he became king of all Egypt? For the more you envy, the greater the goods you procure for the one you envy. For God is the one who sees all things; and if He sees that the one who offers no injury to anyone is being injured, He raises him up all the more and renders him illustrious, and in this way punishes you. And if He does not allow those who insult their enemies to pass unpunished ^B, much less so those who envy those who have done no harm. For if he who loves his friend has nothing more than the tax collectors, what mercy shall he experience who persecutes the innocent with hatred? Why, therefore, do you grieve, O man, at the good fortune of your neighbor? For if it were right to grieve, it should have been for the evils we ourselves suffer, not because we see others illustrious in virtue. Do you not know that this sin alone is devoid of any excuse? And deservedly so. For the fornicator may feign desire, the thief poverty, and the homicide anger; cold reasons, indeed, and by no means just, yet they have something to say: but you, tell me, what reason will you mention? None, except your own immense wickedness. For if we are commanded to love our enemies, what punishment shall we pay if we persecute even our friends with hatred? For if he who loves those who love him is no better than the Gentiles, what pardon will he have who vexes those who offer no injury? The demon envies, indeed, but men; to no demon, however, does he bear envy. And you, being a man, envy men? And what pardon shall you obtain? Envy is a bad thing, a terrible bad thing, and it commands one to despise his own salvation. Thus did Saul summon a bad demon against his own soul; ^C and after he had summoned him, he pursued the physician with envy. For such a thing is envy: he knew that he was healed, and he preferred to perish rather than see the one who had healed him being celebrated. And, if you wish, I will tell you what benefits David bestowed upon Saul, and how the latter subsequently remunerated him. When a most grievous war once occupied the Jews, and everyone was dismayed and in fear, and no one dared to look ahead; but the whole city was in the final extremities, and each man saw death before his eyes, and thought they would die every day, this one entered from his sheep to the battle line, and took upon himself the war that stood before all; and this, seeing no necessity incumbent upon him; nay, having many standing in his way: for his brother was rebuking him, and the king was holding him back, looking to his immature age, and was ordering him to remain: but he, burning with zeal, ran forward to the barbarians of his own accord, and displayed such care for the king that even before the war and the victory he raised him up as he laid on his face, saying: "Let not the heart of my lord fail because of him; for your servant will go, and fight with this alien" (1 Kings xvii. 32). Is this a small thing, I ask? That one who was urged by no necessity would spend his own soul, and for the sake of those from whom he had never received any benefit, would leap into the midst of enemies? Should he not after these things have been honored with the title of lord, and called the common savior of the city, as one who had preserved the life of all after the grace of God? For what other greater benefit was there than this? For it was not in money, nor in honor and power, but in his very soul that he bestowed this benefit, and recalled him from the very gates of death; and through him, the king lived ^D and enjoyed his kingdom from then on. With what, therefore, did he subsequently remunerate him? For if one were to look at the magnitude of the deeds, even if he had taken the crown from his own head and placed it upon David's head, he would not yet have rendered a just reward, but would have owed more. For the latter bestowed upon him life and kingdom; the former ought to have yielded only the kingdom. Let us see, however, what his remunerations were. After he had taken off the head of the barbarian, and had returned bearing spoils, the choirs of women went out singing and saying: "Saul struck a thousand, and David ten thousand" (1 Kings xviii. 7). And Saul was angry, and looked askance at David from that day. For what favor, I ask? For if one must say the wonderful thing, it was a favor to Saul rather than to David that they stated these things; and he ought to have been content that they had at least given him thousands. Why, therefore, is he indignant that they gave ten thousands to the other? For if he had done something towards this war, and had contributed at least some small part, these words would rightly be spoken, that Saul struck a thousand, and David ten thousand: but when he himself sat inside fearing and trembling, thinking he would die each day, and David accomplished it all: how was it not absurd for him who had contributed nothing to the repelling of the dangers to be indignant that he had not carried off the greater part of the acclamation? For if one ought to be indignant, it certainly ought to have been David, because, while he himself had performed the whole worthily, he had another as a sharer of the praise. But of such a kind is envy: it cannot bear to look upon the prosperity of others with kindness, but considers its neighbor's success to be its own misfortune.

became. And truly he was more powerful, having aid from above in all things, and being guarded by the right hand of God. Where then do you drive the righteous man away? Do you not know that wherever it may happen that he goes, he is of necessity in the domain of his own Master? For even if you force him to depart into the very desert, he has such a resourceful Master that He will show him to be much more manifest even there. For He often manages matters through opposites, most especially by the opposites themselves. To Him befits glory, power, honor, and adoration, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, unto the ages. Amen.

On Hatred and Enmity. Homily XVIII.

If anyone has been injured by his neighbor, let him take David into his memory and let him cast him into his mind, so that, while the heart is still alive, he may be able, by the memory of this most meek and long-suffering man, to dissolve the sea of wrath. For why is your brother an enemy to you? Did he do you injury? But he has done no wrong. But are you overlooking him because he is hostile on account of money? Do not, I beseech you, do not delay in severing the ropes of wrath; for delays produce procrastinations. If you put it off today, you will blush all the more; and if you add tomorrow, the shame is greater; and if the third day, you will be all the more ashamed by having prolonged the delay. Give me, I beseech you, the willingness to say these things; cause me to hear that we have accomplished something from this continuous teaching; that someone went away and immediately threw both arms around his enemy, was poured over him, embraced him, kissed him, wept. For even if he is a beast, even if he is stone, or whatever he may be, he will be tamed by being softened by such friendliness; and you will indeed rid yourself of grievances, and by drawing him toward goodwill, you will have gained him. ^B And do not say to me, "I have a defiled enemy, wicked, depraved, incorrigible, and I cannot reconcile him." For whatever you may say, he is not worse than Saul, who, having been saved by David once and twice and many times, plotted against him ten thousand times, and then, having been benefited in return for these things, remained keeping his own wickedness. For what do you have to say? That he cut off land, and did wrong in a field, and crossed the boundaries of a house, and snatched slaves, and insulted, and coveted ^C and led to poverty? But he did not strive to take away his soul, not twice and three times and many times, nor even after being benefited so much, nor even after falling into your hands many times and being saved. But if it is even this, and thus David again takes the advantage, that, being nurtured in less perfect laws, and requiring no such thing, he reached the very summit that is in grace. And you, indeed, are often angry and bear grudges over past things; but this man, fearing even for the future, and knowing precisely that the city would be uninhabitable for him, and life unlivable if he saved the enemy, did not desist from the concern for him, but did everything while feeding the foe against himself. What in the world is it, tell me, that you are complaining about to the enemy that you do not want to be reconciled? For what did he harm you so much? Did he take away your money? But if you bear the robbery nobly, you will receive as much reward as if you had deposited it in the hands of the poor. For he who has given to the poor, and he who has not plotted against the one who has defrauded him, or even ^D prayed for him on account of God, have performed the same things. When, therefore, the cause of the expenditure is the same, it is evident that the crown also is one. But did he plot against your soul and attempt to kill you? The matter is reckoned as martyrdom for you if you count the plotter and the one who has brought the enmity to such a point among your benefactors, and continue praying for him, and entreating God to be propitious. And let us not see this, that God prevented David from being slaughtered while pursued by Saul, but that he put on a double, and triple, and quadruple crown of martyrdom because of his plotting. For he who, for God's sake, saved the enemy, who once and twice and many times threw the spear against his own head, and became master to kill him, then spared him, and this while knowing that after this sparing he would again set upon him; it is evident that he was slaughtered ten thousand times in his intent, and being slaughtered ten thousand times for the sake of God, he has many crowns of martyrdom. And what Paul was saying, this he also reckoned, and died daily for the sake of God. For being able to kill the one plotting, he did not want to for the sake of God, but chose rather to be in danger every day than, by committing a just slaughter, to be rid of so many deaths. But if one ought neither to avenge nor to hate even the one plotting against his very life, much more so the one acting unjustly toward you in any other of the things that are external. Do you want to learn that it is possible, if we wish, to reconcile every person who is hostilely disposed toward us, even if he is wicked and depraved and incorrigible? What is more savage than a lion? Yet humans tame this, and art forces nature, and he who is the most savage and most kingly of all wild beasts becomes more tame and gentle than any sheep, and walks through the marketplace frightening no one with his tameness. What apology then shall we have, what excuse, when taming wild beasts, saying that we are unable to soften men, nor to have them be pleasantly disposed toward us? Although indeed, for the beast, tameness is against nature, but for the human, wildness is against nature. When, therefore, we overcome nature, what apology shall we have, saying that we are unable to correct a disposition? But if he is also suffering from incurable diseases, to you the labor is greater, and to that extent your reward is also [greater] for remaining and healing the one suffering incurably. But what has been sinned so much by the enemy that you draw back from reconciling with him? Did he speak ill of you, and call you an adulterer and a fornicator? And what of this? If he speaks the truth, be corrected; but if false, laugh at it. If you are cognizant of the things said, be self-controlled; if you are not cognizant, be contemptuous; or rather, do not...

^A only laugh and be contemptuous, but also rejoice and exult, according to the word of the Lord: "For when," he says, "they revile you and cast out your name as evil, for the sake of the Son of man, lying, rejoice in that day and exult, because your reward is great in the heavens" (Luke 6:22–23). But if he speaks the truth, and you bear those words with equanimity, and do not in turn afflict him with insults or speak reviling, but groan bitterly and condemn your transgressions, you will gain a reward no less than the former person. For often what our friends did not accomplish by praising and gratifying, our enemies accomplished by reviling, even if they speak the truth. For the former, as is natural, by gratifying or even assenting, increase the evil of pride in us; but these, moved by hatred, reproach sins, and compel us to the correction of our vices, and so hatred becomes an occasion of the greatest utility. Let us not, therefore, say, "Such a one provoked me," or "Someone pushed me to say shameful words": we are the cause of these things in every way. For if we desire to philosophize, ^B not only an enemy, but not even the devil himself will be able to move us to anger; which indeed is clear from the story concerning David. For when he had said to Saul, "Behold the hem of your mantle in my hand" (1 Reg. 24:12), and had apologized for all else, the other said, "Is this your voice, my son David?" (v. 17). Oh, what a change suddenly occurred in this savage man on account of the gentleness of the words! For he who never deigned even to call him by his name, nay, even abhorred his very address, now, bringing him back into his own family, calls him 'son,' and at the very sound of the voice he was warming up. And just as a father, having heard after a long time the voice of his son returning from somewhere, is excited not only at the sight but also at the voice itself; so Saul, after the words of David had entered and removed the enmities from his mind, henceforth recognized him as just, and having laid aside one emotion, he assumed another: for with anger ejected from his mind, he received benevolence and compassion. ^C What therefore could be more blessed or more sublime than David? For he made a father out of a murderer, and a sheep out of a wolf; he filled the furnace of wrath with abundant dew, turned the tempest into calm, and extinguished all the fervor of fury. Let us not, therefore, consider this only, beloved, so that we may suffer no harm from enemies, but [rather] that we may inflict no evil upon them; and we shall suffer no evil, even if we bear countless hardships. Thus, neither did David, when driven into exile and harassed, being pursued by most grievous ambushes, suffer any evil; but he became more glorious and more august than his enemy himself, and thus more pleasing to all men and to God Himself. For what harm did he suffer, when he was enduring so many things from Saul? Is he not famous to this very day, both on earth and in heaven? Do not those ineffable goods and the heavenly kingdom await him? But what advantage did that miserable and unhappy man report, ^D who lay in wait for David so intensely? Did he not fall from the kingdom, and perish together with his son in a miserable death, and is he not furthermore accused by all? And what is more grievous than all these things, is he not now paying eternal punishments? If ever, therefore, you see your enemy, or take him to mind, do not say: "I suffered this and that, I heard this and that"; lest you incite anger and increase the inflammation more vehemently; but whatever troublesome things you have heard or suffered, give them all to oblivion; but if they come into your mind, impute them to the devil: and meanwhile consider if he ever said or did anything good for you, and you will immediately dissolve the enmity. Even if you wish to expostulate or argue with someone, with affection laid aside and anger compressed, only then examine and demand reasons: for thus you will be able to overcome easily. For when we are angry, we are able to say or hear nothing correctly; but being free from perturbation, we will never utter a harsh word ourselves, nor will we listen to others saying such things. For it is not so much the nature of what is said as the preconceived hatred in the mind that is accustomed to exasperate us. And just as when it is night, we frequently do not recognize even a present friend; but when day is made, we know even him seeing him from afar: so it is wont to happen in hatred and enmities: for as long as we are of alien minds toward one another, and we hear the voices of others, and look upon the face with a corrupted mind; but after we have laid aside anger, the face formerly hostile and sad soon appears grateful and lovable. But if an adversary should reproach some crime, of which you are conscious, and you, having heard this, should not revile him, but rather groaning bitterly, should pray to God, you have immediately laid aside every transgression. And do not think that we are consoling you lightly; we shall bring a testimony from the divine scriptures. There was a Pharisee and a publican: the latter had progressed to extreme malice, the former was studious of justice: and both went up to the temple to pray. Then the one standing said: "I thank thee, O God, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, or even as this publican" (Luke 18:11–12). The publican, however, standing afar off, did not in turn afflict him with insults, did not retort with reviling, nor did he say anything absurd, such as we say daily when we revile one another, but groaning bitterly and beating his breast, he said only this: "O God, be propitious to me a sinner" (Ibid. v. 13): and he went down justified. You have seen how suddenly? He received a taunt, and he wiped away the taunt; he recognized transgressions and laid aside transgressions; and the accusation of crime became the abolition of crime, and the enemy even becomes an involuntary benefactor. What, I ask, could be more blessed than this? What is more [conducive] to the removal of sins?

to easily remit? How much labor would have been required if it had been made public, by fasting, by watching, by sleeping on the ground, by bestowing one’s goods upon the poor, and by sitting in sackcloth and ashes for a long time, so that one might wash away those sins? But now, having done none of these things, by a mere word he put away all malice and insults; and the revilings of him who thought to insult him brought him a crown of righteousness without sweat, or labors, or long periods of time. For this reason God has also commanded us to pray for our enemies, that we may not only forgive them their debts, but also count them among our dearest friends. But if you do no wrong, yet you turn away and do not look upon them gladly, and you still have that wound festering in your soul, you have not yet fulfilled the commandment which Christ commanded. How then do you beg God to be propitious to you, when you have not yet become propitious to those who have transgressed against you? ^B If you wish to know that even if we intercede for our enemies and those who have wronged us, God does not forgive, if they are likely to become worse because of our own forbearance, I will tell you an old story. Miriam once spoke against Moses. What then did God do? He brought leprosy upon her, and made her unclean, although in other respects she was gentle and modest. Then, when Moses himself, who had been insulted, was interceding and beseeching Him to put away His anger, God would not consent, but what did He say? "If she had a father," ^C and he had cast her out of his sight, would she not have endured the rebuke? I for my part forgive her the punishment, but you should not." Remember then the terrible judgment, in which all things will be naked and laid bare; consider that what is hidden now is revealed then. If, therefore, you forgive your neighbor the sins which are about to be revealed then, these are all blotted out here, and you will depart without dragging along any of the things in which you have transgressed. So you receive greater things than you give. For we have often committed such things as no one else has seen. Then, realizing that on that day all our sins will lie before our eyes in the common theater of the world, shall we not be in more grievous pain than any punishment, choked and strangled by our conscience? But your such great shame, such great sins, can be washed away through the forgiveness shown to your neighbor. And, if you wish, hear the power of this commandment: "If Moses and Samuel stood before me," ^D He says, "my soul would not be with them." But yet, those whom Moses and Samuel could not snatch from the wrath of God, this commandment can snatch. For this reason, to those to whom He said these things, He continually exhorted them, saying: "Let no one harbor malice in your hearts against his brother," and, "Do not devise the malice of your neighbor." If we are commanded to love our enemies, when we hate those who love us, what punishment shall we pay? If he who loves those who love him has no advantage over the tax collectors, where will he who hates those who have done no wrong stand? How will he escape hell, by having become worse than the heathens? If he who does not love his brother, even if he empties out his wealth, even if he shines forth in martyrdom, accomplishes nothing more; consider what punishment he would be worthy of who wars against one who has done him no wrong whatever. If God does not forgive those who do not forgive sins committed against them, what forgiveness will He give to those who attempt to wrong those who have done no harm? Why then do we fight against one another in vain, why do we war against one another, when we are commanded even to love those who hate us? What are you saying, O man? You have an enemy, and are you not ashamed? Does the devil not suffice for us, that we also enlist those of the same race? Would that he had not wished to war against us; would that he himself were not a devil! Do you not know how much pleasure there is after reconciliation? For what is the matter, if it does not appear great even in enmity? But if you say that you are inflamed, remembering the insult, remember if any good has been done to you by him who has caused you grief, and how many evils you have inflicted on others, and you will quickly dissolve the enmity. For you have not suffered as much evil as you will work upon yourself by harboring malice. For how will you obtain forgiveness, which you do not impart to others? The children of the Greeks, expecting nothing great, have often philosophized about forbearance; and you, for whom Christ gave His soul, and did not even shrink from being slaughtered—being His enemy, and about to depart while having such hopes—do you hesitate and procrastinate to dissolve the enmity? And that which time brings about, you do not endure to bring about before the time for the sake of the law of God, but would you rather have the passion extinguished without reward than for a reward? For even if this comes about through the passage of time, it will not be of any profit to you, but rather there is much punishment, because that which time accomplished, the law of God did not persuade you to do. For it is precisely for this reason that He provides you with an unspeakable reward, so that you may anticipate it; so that, if you are persuaded and reconciled, the friendship no longer comes from the commandment of God, but from the zeal of the other man; wherefore you depart un-crowned, while he receives the prizes. Thieves who take communion with certain people are no longer thieves towards those with whom they take communion, but the table changes their manner, and makes those who were fiercer than wild beasts milder than sheep; but we who partake of such a table, who commune of such food, do we arm ourselves against one another? And how would we not be worse than the beasts? For this reason we are weaker, and the enemy of us all becomes stronger day by day. For we are not locking shields with one another against him, but we are standing with him against one another, and we use him as a commander for such battle arrays. May we escape his command, by the grace of Christ, to whom belongs glory, power, honor, and adoration, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, to the ages. Amen.

On Sadness and Despondency

^A infinite evils, we are not straitened in spirit even for a brief time; but if we suffer some small thing from someone, we fall down, are seized with dizziness, and desire to be set free from the present life, not knowing that tribulations and temptations, and the painful things that befall us, commend the care of God toward us no less than the good things. And why do I speak of the tribulations here? For the threat of hell demonstrates the kindness of God no less than the kingdom of heaven: for if hell were not threatened, no one would so easily attain the heavenly goods. For the promise of good things alone is not enough to exhort us to virtue, unless the fear of evil things also prods those who cultivate it more sluggishly. Besides, it is for this that sadness and sorrow have occurred: ^B not that we should grieve over death, or loss of possessions, or any such thing, but that we should use them for the removal of sins. For a soldier who fears death will never accomplish anything noble. Therefore, he who grieves should not grieve because he is being punished, but because by sinning he provokes God ^C. For this makes the Lord a stranger to us and an enemy, but the former reconciles Him to us and makes Him near to us. For you were brought into the present life, O man, not that you might be raised living in idleness, nor that you might suffer no evil, but that having suffered you might become more illustrious. For it is not the part of a noble man to seek idleness and enjoy luxuries, but that is rather the desire of a worm that uses no reason, than of one who possesses reason. And you, pray that you do not fall into temptation; but if you happen to enter it, do not be grieved or angry, and do not be disturbed or troubled, but do everything so that you may emerge more illustrious. ^D Do you not see the bravest of soldiers, how when the trumpet calls them to trophies, they look to the victories, to the exploits of their ancestors? And do you, therefore, with the spiritual trumpet sounding, stand mightier than a lion; stand, whether it be fire or iron: the elements know how to revere the spirited; the very beasts know how to fear those who are so noble; whether they are driven by hunger or by nature, they forget everything and overcome their instinct. Therefore, if anything saddens a Christian, it is right to have only two causes for sadness: when obviously either he himself or his neighbor has offended God. It is not necessary for those who bear insults to be anxious and tremble, but [it is necessary] for those who insult; for they are not compelled to render an account for the slanders they have heard, but these [are compelled] for the insults they have used; for upon them all the danger hangs. Therefore, it is right for those who hear ill to be secure, since they are not about to render an account for another's insults; but for those who have insulted, it is necessary to be anxious and tremble, seeing that they are to be dragged to that formidable tribunal for these things. And therefore let us not grieve that we hear ill, but [only] if we deserve to hear ill. For if we live our lives in wickedness, even if there is no one to insult us, we are still the most miserable of all; but if we strive for virtue, even if the whole world insults us, we shall be then the most fortunate of all. For if our mind is well disposed, even if infinite tempests are stirred up on all sides, we shall nevertheless always sit in tranquility and in harbor: just as, when it is not well disposed, even if everything is steered for us with favorable winds, we shall still have nothing better than those who are suffering shipwreck. This can also be seen in matters of food. For if the body of the stomach is strong and robust, everything it receives, even if it is raw and indigestible, it transforms into a pure juice, since its natural temperament overcomes the defect of the food; but if its strength is relaxed and weakened, even if you offer it the best food possessing the best juice, it will still transform and corrupt it into the worst, its imbecility undermining its virtue. For the soul that is tortured by sorrow, and is occupied by a cloud of sadness, can in no way with alacrity either hear or relate any of the things that are being said for its benefit. For the souls of those who are grieving do not want to extend long discourses; but just as a cloud, having become dense, and blocking the rays of the sun, turns them all back; so also the cloud of sadness, if it blocks our mind, does not permit it an easy passage for discourse, but with great hindrance strangles and confines it within. And this happens not only in speakers, but also in those who are listening. For just as it does not allow the discourse to issue forth expeditiously from the mind of the speaker, so neither does it allow it to glide with its own virtue into the mind of the listeners. For the friends of Job, when they had approached him and had seen the tragedy of his house; and the righteous man sitting on that dunghill, and full of ulcers; they tore their garments and wept, and sat in silence, showing that nothing is more useful at the beginning to those who are tortured by sorrow than quiet and silence. Learn, therefore, that He who allowed the temptation to happen, knows also the time for liberation from the temptation: for God is powerful enough to dissolve all evils, but until He sees that a conversion has taken place, He does not lift the tribulation. And admire those who are tempted, and who endure temptations with a strong soul: as for instance the three children, whom no one would have admired for not being burned, if they had been far from the Babylonian furnace. For what astounded everyone is that, having spent so much time in the fire, they emerged more unharmed than those who had not been in it at all. And the same thing must be said about the saints; that if no temptation had been sent upon them, we would never have suspected that they could rejoice constantly. Truly, while they were being tossed by countless waves from all sides, they were better off than those who were enjoying pure tranquility. But if there had been nothing that could sadden them, it would not have been a great thing for them to be able to rejoice continuously; but that, with many things present that could cast them into sorrow, they were superior to them all, and were gladdened in the midst of afflictions, this is something new and unusual. For is not death seen by all to be the most intolerable of all things? But the expectation of this not only does not sadden them, but even exhilarates them more intensely. For they know that the arrival of death is the end of labors; and that the kind God knows how to honor His servants, and to grant them the salvation of others as well—just as He did for the holy Paul, the teacher of the world, sending out the rays of his own teaching in every direction. For when he was taken to Rome, because of the magnitude of the storm, as he called everyone, he says, "Be of good cheer, men; for there will be no loss..."

salutary [remedy] has been accustomed to grant; just as He did for S. Paul, who was teacher to the whole world, and who scattered the rays of his teaching everywhere. For when he was being taken to Rome, ^A a great storm having arisen, and all who were on the ship fearing for their safety, and having no good hope owing to the magnitude of the tempest, he called everyone together and said: "Take heart, sirs; for there will be no loss of any soul among you, except of the ship. For there stood by me this night an angel of God, whose I am and whom I serve, saying: Do not fear, Paul; for God has granted you all those who sail with you" (Acts 27:22-24). Let us constantly remember this. For nothing benefits us as much as constantly remembering the benefits of God, both those given in common and those given individually. For if, having remembered the benefits of a friend, or having heard a pleasant word or received a kind act, we are warmed, much more, when we see how many dangers we have fallen into, and that God has delivered us from them all, shall we be the more eager regarding virtue. Just as Paul himself, ^B whose famine and thirst, and nakedness, and shipwrecks, and fears, and plots, and prisons, and stripes, and all other things which the blessed Paul endured for the sake of the preaching, I think there is no need to recount. For each of these was sufficient to shake and break that holy soul violently. But when he says, "Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?" (2 Cor. 11:29), this is what most of all provided him with constant and unbearable distress. For if he burned for each one of those who were stumbling, there was no way for this burning to be extinguished from his soul; for those who were stumbling did not cease, and kept providing the fuel for the fire. And as for seeing the infidel Jews, what small respite from distress and pain could he possibly have? "For I used to wish," he says, "to be anathema from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh, who are Israelites" (Rom. 9:3). What he says is of this sort: It was more desirable for me to fall into Gehenna than to see the Israelites as infidels. ^C And he who chose the punishment in Gehenna for the sake of being able to win over all the Jews, it is evident that failing to achieve this, he led a life more grievous than those being punished in Gehenna. To whom it is said, "And My grace is sufficient for you; for My power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9). This means, "It is sufficient for you that you raise the dead, that you heal the blind, that you cleanse lepers, that you perform other miracles; do not ask to be preaching also without dangers and without fear and without troubles." But you are in pain and distressed? Do not suppose this is due to my weakness, that many are those who plot against you, and beat you, and drive you, and scourge you; this very thing, in fact, shows my power ("for My power," He says, "is made perfect in weakness"), when, being persecuted, you prevail over those who persecute; when, being driven, you master those who drive; when, being bound, you turn those who bind you. But it is indeed dreadful even to be spoken ill of by anyone; but when he who does this is one of those who have been benefited, and he reproaches and brings up the benefits done to him, then indeed, then the insult becomes unbearable, and brings with it such distress and anger that it could even choke the one insulted. ^D For he who has suffered ill from some great person has a not small pride [in], the superiority of the one acting; but he who [suffers] from a base and cast-away person has the greater pain, and considers the affliction intolerable. But do not consider this, whether some are mocking us, but whether they do so rightly and justly; and if justly, even if they do not laugh, let us weep; but if unjustly, even if all were laughing, let us call ourselves blessed and mourn them, as being the most wretched of all and no different from the insane—even if nothing is more unbearable to the suffering than speech capable of biting the soul. Say these things to yourselves and to each other each day, whenever you find opportunity. For if he who is about to request something, even if he is about to ask for reasonable things, awaits a suitable time, so that he may approach the one about to grant the request while he is mild and well-disposed, and having taken the alliance of the time, may attain the grace; much more does the one speaking need to seek a suitable time. For thus we ought to be concerned for one another, as for ourselves, and to spare our neighbors, even as God also [spares] us. For no one spares himself as God spares us all, who much more than we ourselves desires that we suffer nothing dreadful; to whom belong glory, power, honor, and worship, now and for the ages of ages. Amen.

Homily XX. Concerning Anger and Fury.

Do you wish to learn what a great evil it is to be angry? Stand by those fighting in the marketplace; for you cannot easily see the ugliness in yourself, [as you are] darkened and drunk, but when you have become cleansed of the passion, then you will better observe your own [state]. For when anger has boiled up around the chest and rises and rages, the mouth breathes fire, the eyes emit fire, the face swells from every side, the hands are extended uncontrollably, and the feet jump and bound ridiculously at those who hold them, and they are no different from the raging, or rather, not even from wild asses, kicking, biting; thus an angry man is not decorous. "But," he says, "the heart swells, and is bitten by the insults." I know that too; for this reason I admire those who hold [it] in check. For if we wish, it is possible to beat back the passion. For why, when rulers insult us, do we not suffer this? Because a counter-fear to the passion stands before us. Why also do servants, when insulted by you with countless things, endure everything in silence? Because they too have the same bond laid upon them. But now, for the sake of human beings, we endure even unbearable things, and say to those who insult us: "So-and-so insulted me, not you"; but in the case of God, shall we not have even this discretion? Let us say also to our own soul: "God is insulting us now, He who commands silence; let us not leap, nor shall God, [be] more dishonored than humans."

When, therefore, someone causes you grief, think on the sins you have committed against God, and that by the forbearance you show toward him, you will render the court of the future Judgment more gentle, when accounts must be rendered: for He says, "Forgive, and it shall be forgiven you" (Luke 6:37). Moreover, consider also this: if ever, having become enraged to brutality, you have mastered yourself, and if ever you have been led astray by passion; then compare both occasions. When did you praise yourself? Was it then, when you were overcome, or when you mastered yourself? Do we not then curse ourselves often, and does not much repentance follow for us, both because of words and deeds? But when we have conquered, we experience pleasure, we boast, as having attained victory. For victory born of anger is not to render equal for equal—this is indeed the ultimate defeat—but to bear it with calmness, if one either suffers or hears evil things. Do not fight against those who urge you to be silent, saying, "I will not let him go away having mocked me"; for he will not be mocking you then, but if you demand vengeance, he will do so like a fool. But when you win, do not seek the testimony of fools, but consider that of the prudent to be sufficient; or rather, look to God, and He will praise you: and he whom He regards ought not seek honor from men. And if someone possesses much money and property, let him use them as a stranger, and one about to leave them shortly, whether he wishes it or not. And if someone be injured by any, let him not be angry perpetually, or rather, not even for a time: "For the sun," he says, "let it not go down upon your wrath" (Eph. 4:26). For this disease has overturned whole houses, dissolved ancient friendships, and stirred up inconsolable tragedies. When, therefore, someone harms you, look not at him, but at the demon shaking this man, and pour out all your anger against him; but have pity on him who is moved by him. For if to lie is the devil's, much more so is to be angry without cause. Indeed, it does not happen that you are angry if there is no one to provoke you; but it is necessary to desire, even if the form that moves to this does not appear. If someone does you an injury, consider the punishment by which he is being punished; and not only will you not conceive anger, but you will shed tears. For no one is exacerbated against one laboring with fever, or against one burning, but one pities and weeps for all such. If, however, you wish to take vengeance, keep silent, and you have dealt him a lethal blow: but if you bite back, you treat him shamefully, and you make it so that the things said are deemed true. For why does a rich man laugh if someone calls him poor? Because he is conscious of no poverty in himself. If, therefore, we laugh at insults, we will give the greatest proof that we are not conscious of the things being said. Has someone insulted you? Beg God that He may quickly be appeased toward him; he is your brother, he is your member. But he insults me greatly, you say. In truth, for this very reason your reward is greater. For this reason especially, one ought to dismiss anger, since the devil has wounded him. Do not, therefore, rebuke him, and yourself be prostrated together with him. As long as you are standing, you can also save him; but if you cast yourself down as well, by inflicting insults in return, who now will raise you up? He who is wounded? But he will not be able to, when he is lying down; or will you, who have fallen together with him? And how, you who do not suffice for yourself, will you reach out a hand to another? The devil wounded him, do not let yourself be wounded also; rather, pull out the dart first. For if we converse among ourselves in this manner, we will quickly all be whole; but if we are armed against each other, there is no need even for the devil for our destruction. Have you been affected by damage first? But it is not a miserable thing to suffer evils, but to do evils. For do not say, "It is nothing evil if I insult someone." It is a great evil because it appears to be none; for things that seem to be nothing are easily despised, and things that are despised are also increased, and things that are increased become incurable. Do you therefore think that you do nothing evil when you accuse a brother? How then do you call him brother? If he is not a brother, how do you say, "Our Father"? For the word "our" has the signification of many persons. For he who has a soul bestial and inhuman cannot call the benevolent God Father; for he does not preserve the signs and marks of that goodness which is in the heavenly Father, but has transformed himself into a bestial appearance, and has fallen from divine nobility. For if someone jumps like a bull, or kicks like an ass, or remembers evils after the manner of a camel, or is gluttonous like a bear, rapacious like a wolf, strikes like a scorpion, is deceitful like a fox, and like a horse maddened by the love of females, neighs at women—how can such a one send up to heaven a voice worthy of a son, and call God his Father? What, therefore, must such a one be called? A beast? But beasts are held by one of these vices: this one, however, has gathered all of them into himself, and by their folly has become more foolish. For even the beasts themselves, though savage by nature, having attained human industry, frequently become tame: this one, however, when he is a man, and changes their natural wildness into gentleness against nature, what excuse will he have, that he leads his own natural gentleness into that which is against nature, [namely,] wildness? And [he] makes an animal, wild by nature, tame; but he renders himself, tame by nature, wild; and makes the lion tame and tractable, but renders his own soul more savage than a lion: he tames the lion and makes him human, but he neglects himself, degenerating from man into lion; to that one he gives things that are beyond [its] nature, but for himself, he does not even acquire things according to nature. But if nothing renders one so like to God as being easy to give pardon to those acting unjustly when one is affected by injury, how great a punishment will they not be worthy of, who after all these things not only do not forgive them, but also beseech God for the vengeance of enemies and intercede against them? And what hope of salvation will they have remaining, if even then, when one ought to beseech Him, they exacerbate Him, assuming the habit of suppliants, yet emitting the voice of a wild beast, and whetting the weapons of the evil one against themselves? For if not even then, when you have need of mercy, do you dismiss anger, but are mindful of it most of all, and this not knowing that you are driving a sword against yourself, when it is necessary for him to be...

^A a suppliant in appearance, but emitting the sounds of a beast, and hurling against themselves the darts of the evil one? For if, when you are in need of mercy, you do not even then dismiss your anger, but are very mindful of it, and this while knowing that you are thrusting the sword against yourself—when will you be able to become humane? You have suffered evil, and you wish to avenge yourself on the one who did you evil? Do him well, and you have avenged yourself. For if, on the one hand, you seek retribution, you will be blamed by everyone—both you and him alike; but if you endure, you will be applauded and admired, while he will be accused. And what, to an enemy, could be a greater and more bitter evil than to see his enemy being admired and applauded by all, while he himself is being reviled by all before the eyes of his enemy?

Anger is a beast that easily leaps out; and for this reason we have need of myriad bulwarks and partitions in order to overcome it and hold it in check. It is for this reason that God built this part of us especially as if from certain stones, namely the bones, placing a support for it, so that by never breaking or cutting through, it might easily harm the whole animal. For it is fire, he says, and a great storm; and no other part of the whole body could withstand this violence. Not ^B so can a lion tear our internal organs as anger, sitting always with iron claws, destroys everything. For it does not ruin the body only, but it corrupts the very health of the soul. When, therefore, someone comes and says to you that so-and-so has insulted you, and continues to speak ill of you to everyone, praise the one who has insulted you in the presence of those who are there; and, even if they are very foolish, they will applaud and admire you, but they will hate him as more savage than any beast, because he caused pain without being wronged, while you, even though having suffered evil, responded with the opposite.

In addition to these things, you will also be able to show as vain all that was said. For he who is bitten provides proof of his empathy with what is being said by suffering pain; but he who has laughed away, by this very fact has freed himself from all suspicion in the presence of those who are there. And if you also desire to avenge yourself on him, this also will follow in abundance, both with God punishing him for what he has said, and before that punishment, your philosophy becoming a blow to him more timely than any other. For nothing is so accustomed to punish those who insult us as for those of us being insulted to laugh at the insults. But when, having been insulted, you insult back, you have been defeated—not by a man, but, which is more shameful, by a base passion, having been moved by anger; ^C but if you remain silent, you have both won, and easily set up a trophy, and will have a myriad of people crowning you and judging the lie of the slander. For he who contradicts seems to contradict because he is being bitten; but he who is bitten provides a suspicion that he is conscious of the truth of what is being said; but if you laugh, by your laughter you have dissolved the verdict against yourself, and have caused the one who insulted you to suffer more pain from that point on. For he is not so pleased by not being insulted, as he is bitten by not being able to take hold of you. When, therefore, you deprive him of that which he most desires, you have deprived him of everything, having belittled him and shown him to be contemptible. For it does not so much make kings illustrious to overcome enemies, as it does to the one who has done so to overcome anger and wrath; for there the achievement was of weapons and soldiers, but here your trophy is naked; and there you have others who share in the victory, but here you have set up the trophy alone.

When, therefore, someone insults you, bear it nobly; for he has insulted himself, not you. If he strikes your right hand, do not strike back; for he is the one who is being struck—you in the hand, but himself in his anger, and receiving an evil reputation from everyone. But if these things seem difficult to you, consider that, if someone in a frenzy tore your garment, which one would you say suffered evil, you who suffered it, or he who did it? It is clear that it is he. ^D Then, where your garment is torn, the one who did it has suffered more grievous things than the one who suffered it; but where the heart is torn (for anger does this), will you not consider that he has suffered greater evils than you who have endured nothing at all? If one ought not to return evil for evil, much more so ought one not to return evil for good, and—without any evil having first occurred—return evil. "But so-and-so," he says, "is wicked, and caused me pain, and did me many wrongs." Do you wish to avenge yourself on him? Do not return it; leave him unpunished; be thankful. For this is truly revenge, bringing harm to him and benefit to you; for from this, joy is born. For when we have such a soul, that we avenge no one, but do good to all, whence, tell me, will the sting of grief be able to creep in? For he who is so rejoicing in suffering evil, as to also return good to the one who has done him evil, how will he be able to be pained thereafter? For what, tell me, is the evil you have suffered? Has a disease befallen you? But there is nothing strange there; for our body is mortal and subject to passion. But [is it] a poverty of money? But these things are also acquired and can be lost, and remain here. But [are there] plots and slanders? But it is not we who are wronged in these things, but those who have done them. "For the soul," he says, "that sins, it shall die;" (Ezech. 18: 20); but it was not the one who suffered evil that sinned, but the one who caused the evil.

Let us not, therefore, strive so much, beloved, as to be clean of anger, and to reconcile those who are ill-disposed toward us, knowing that neither prayer, nor almsgiving, nor fasting, nor participation in the mysteries, nor anything else of such things, will be able to stand for us on that day if we bear grudges. So that one would not be wrong in proclaiming this as more grievous than any sin. For nothing does God so hate and turn away from as a man who bears a grudge and retains anger. For how do you wish the Master to be gentle and mild toward you, when you yourself become harsh and unforgiving to your fellow servant? But your fellow servant insulted you? You also insult God many times; and what is the equality between fellow servant and master? And he, perhaps, insulted because he was provoked and wronged, and irritated; but you insult God having not been wronged nor slandered, but while being acted upon with kindness by Him each day; and what apology or pardon shall we have? Consider, therefore, that if God were willing to examine with precision the things done against Him, we would not survive for a single day. "For if you, O Lord, O Lord, should mark iniquities, who shall stand?" (Ps. 129: 3). For Yours is the glory into the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXI. Regarding dominion, power, and glory.

^A It is said that the blessed Constantine, when his statue had once been stoned, and many were inciting him to punish those who had committed the insult and demand retribution, saying that they had pelted his entire face with stones, felt his face with his hand and, smiling gently, said: "I truly do not see a wound on my forehead; the head is sound, and the entire face is healthy." And thus, those who were flushed with shame and embarrassed were turned away from their unjust counsel. But if he obtained such glory among men for that remark, how many good things will he enjoy before the benevolent God? For he truly is a king who rules over anger and envy and pleasure, and subordinates all things to the laws of God; and, keeping his mind free, he does not allow the dominion of pleasures to prevail in his soul. Such a man I would gladly see ruling over land and sea, and over cities, and peoples, and armies. For he who has set his reason as master over the passions of the soul will easily be able to preside over men according to divine laws, so that he may be, as it were, a father to his subjects, and deal with cities with the greatest gentleness. He who appears to rule over men but is a slave to anger and ambition and pleasures, would, in the first place, appear ridiculous to his subjects, because he wears a crown adorned with gold and jewels, but is not crowned with temperance; and because his body flashes with purple, but his soul is uncultivated. Moreover, he will not even know how he might manage his rule. For he who could not command himself, how could he govern others by laws? We should not consider how we may obtain honors and power, but rather how we may be endowed with virtue and wisdom. For great power persuades one to do things that are displeasing to God, and it requires an exceedingly strong soul so that one may use ^B the honor, dignity, and power bestowed upon him as he ought. He who lacks dignity is, even if unwilling, driven to the pursuit of wisdom; but to him who possesses it, the same thing usually happens as if someone living with a beautiful and fair maiden were ordered not to cast his eyes upon her immodestly. Power is a thing like this. And for this reason it has driven many, even against their will, to commit injustice, has stirred up anger, taken away the bridle of the tongue, and opened the door of the mouth, tossing the soul like some wind and sinking the ship into the uttermost depth of evils. For the magnitude of honor, to those who do not wish to live fittingly, is an increase of punishment. For to be in great esteem and to have happy successes among the people, the more it makes one shine, the greater dangers and cares it contains; for such a man cannot breathe or stand at all, having so savage and troublesome a master. And why do I say stand and breathe? Even if such a man has infinite good deeds, he enters the kingdom with difficulty. For nothing is accustomed to puff up men as insolently as the opinion of the multitude. For it is noble and generous to endure contempt; but to obtain glory requires a strong and very great mind, so that he who enjoys honor may not be puffed up. But if you desire to obtain glory, ^C reject glory; but if you pursue glory, you will lose glory. For this glory is an imitation of glory. No one who sees painted bread tastes the painting, even if he be hungry ten thousand times. Therefore, those who say that they have received everything in the present life make themselves wholly destitute for the future. So also Adam fell from hope of a greater honor in the present life as well. And many, very often, desiring more, have lost the things present; and those who hoped they would obtain everything here did not even attain a portion. For human affairs, the more they are raised up and shine, the greater ruin they cause, and not only to the subjects, but also to those who rule them. For one will not find a private house as full of dangers as the palaces of kings are filled with evils. For this reason, then, I ask, why do you envy your neighbor because you see him enjoying honor and much dignity? Therefore, do you not notice how easily those things wither, and how great an evil arises from them? For that which is the most miserable of all things regarding these is that the losses which flow from them remain forever, but the pleasure itself, before it has appeared, has vanished away. But much avails for one having power, he depopulates and ravages everything where he wishes, and affects his enemies with trouble, and benefits those who flatter him, and is powerful with immense might? What evil, therefore, can he do? Perhaps he will take away your dignity? And what then? For if he does this justly, it is a benefit, since nothing so deeply offends God as if someone were treated with honors beyond his merit; but if unjustly, again the crime redounds upon him and not upon this man. For he who has suffered something undeservedly, and has borne it bravely, has acquired greater confidence before God. For he who obeys the magistrates does not obey the magistrates, but God, who sanctioned such things by His law; and he who does not obey them resists God. For there is no power, he says, except from God. To rule, and for others to be subjects, and not for all things to be carried on promiscuously, with peoples being tossed hither and thither like waves, is a work of divine wisdom. Therefore, of these also, if they are despised, He is the fiercest avenger. For he will not exact a common penalty ^D from you if you have spurned these, but by far the greatest; nor will anything save you while you contradict; but you will both undergo the most grievous punishment among men, and you will irritate God more vehemently. For as if you were to deprive a ship of its pilot, you would sink the ship itself; and if you were to draw a leader away from an army, you would have delivered the soldiers bound to the enemies: so if you take away the rulers of cities, we will live a life more alien to reason than the beasts themselves. For what the fastenings of timber are in houses, these are the magistrates in cities. If, therefore, a prince be blameless in all things, then with as much power as he wishes he will be able to punish all who are subject to him, and to pardon them. For it is the part of one man or another not to punish the guilty, and to pardon those who have committed crimes worthy of no forgiveness; and especially if it be a king, against whom the injury is committed. And, in truth, it is also easy to make a city subject through fear; but to bind it to himself, and, so that...

all are ordered to be lovers of his reign, and to persuade them to be well-disposed, is a thing difficult to accomplish; even if one should spend countless wealth, or move countless armies, or do anything whatsoever, he will not easily be able to draw the disposition of so many men toward himself. For nothing so shows one who holds authority as affection for those he governs. For it is not the act of begetting alone that makes a father, but also the love that follows the begetting. And if, where nature is, there is need of love, much more so where grace is. ^A Indeed, the authority of the priesthood is greater than the royal authority, and it is greater by as much as a king is entrusted with bodies, but a priest with souls. That one releases debts of money, this one of sins; that one compels, this one exhorts; that one has sensible weapons, this one spiritual weapons; that one wages war against barbarians, this one against demons. For this reason, in the Old Covenant, priests anointed kings, and now God places the head under the hands of the priest, instructing us that this one is a greater authority than that; for the lesser is blessed by the greater. For King Uzziah once entered into the temple of the Lord, wishing to offer incense, and Azariah the priest followed behind him; not as though he were going to drive out a king, but as a runaway and a thankless servant, so he came in upon him with severity, just like a noble dog rushing upon a filthy beast, so as to lead it out of the Master’s house. He did not look at the bulk of his authority; he did not listen to Solomon saying, The threat of a king is like the wrath of a lion (Prov. 19:12); but looking toward the true King of the heavens, and fortifying himself with His fear, he thus leaped upon the tyrant. But let us also enter, if it seems good, so that we may see what he debates with the king. It is not permitted to you, he says, Ozziah, to offer incense to the Lord; he did not name him king, since he had already cast himself out of the honor; for he who does sin is a slave, even if he wears ten thousand crowns upon his head; but he who works righteousness, even if he be the last of all, ^B is more kingly than the king himself. And pay attention to what I say: It was once necessary for a king to be made for the Jews, since the one who had been made before was unworthy. Therefore, Samuel is sent to Jesse, and he says: God has sent me to make a king from your sons. Jesse, hearing "king," thinking it appropriate for the rank to be filled, brings the first son. Drive him away, he says; God did not take pleasure in him. He brings the second; nor this one; he brings the third, nor this one; the fourth, the fifth, the sixth; nor this one. And the choir of sons was exhausted, and the one being sought was not found. He says to him: Have you another son? The father was ashamed; I have one, he says, a small one, of no account, a shepherd. What then? Do you seek to make a king, and do you lead the lesser as better than the better? Man despises man, but God crowns him; For as man shall see, God shall not see; man sees the face, but God sees into the heart (1 Reg. 16:7). Do we not look for the bulk of the body? We desire nobility of soul. And why did God not say by name: "Go, anoint David for me as king," but "one of the sons of Jesse"? So that David might not suffer what Joseph suffered. For just as those, having learned who their king was, plotted against him; so there was fear lest these might do this too. ^C So the ignorance became the mother of safety for David. David came, therefore, and is anointed with oil, and departed possessing the kingdom, not having put on breastplate, nor shield, nor spears, but the vote of God, which is more powerful than all. And when war called, he departed to see the battle array, and found the barbarian challenging them to single combat, and no one dared to leap forward or go out against him. He stood and said: Who is this uncircumcised one, who has reproached the battle array of the living God? (1 Reg. 17:26). And they say to him: Whence this arrogance to you? And he: I am not armed with arrogance, but with faith; not with a breastplate, but with piety; I do not consider his size, but the emptiness of his understanding; I do not see that the ship is great, but that it has no helmsman. What then of the brothers? Again envy, again jealousy. Upon whom have you left those small sheep? We know the pride of your heart and your wickedness, that you have come down in order to see the war. But he, cutting short the ulcer, departed from them, and, having arrived at the other side of the battle, says: What shall be given to the man who takes away his head? And they bring him to the king. He saw, therefore, the king having fallen, being afraid and trembling, and he says to him: Why has the face of my lord fallen? and in prosperity he confesses servitude. Who is this? Shall I not go and take off his head? What then the king? And how are you able, being a small child, but he is a warrior from his youth? The king disbelieves; David is compelled to tell his achievements: I, he says, was a small child, shepherding the sheep of my father; and when a lion or a bear came, and took a sheep from my flock, I would go out after them, and would snatch them from their mouth, and strike the lion and the bear; and this one shall be as one of those beasts, because he reproached the battle array of the living God. And Saul said to David: Go, and the Lord be with you (1 Reg. 17:34-37). But the king gave him his own weapons, and he could not carry them. Why? ^D God did not allow this, so that the weapons might not share in the victory of the achievements; so that the king might not say that "My weapons have conquered," he casts off the weapons, and puts on faith; he lets go the stone: the foreigner fell. For not by the nature of the body, but by the power of the Spirit, did he carry off the victory. He ran and took his sword, and cut off his head; and that which is written was fulfilled: In the works of his hands the sinner was ensnared (Ps. 9:17). If, therefore, you crave glory and honor, do not adorn and treat your house or horse, but your soul; whereas now nothing could be more vile than you, having an empty soul, and putting forward the beauty of the house and the horse. But both those and these appear, he says. What do you say? Do you not fear to utter these things, and to count Christ among the horses and the stones? Do you not know that He fashioned/formed both body, and granted a soul, and distributed the whole world; and you do not even return a small thanksgiving to Him? And you indeed, when you have paved a narrow house, demand a reward with great care and study:

and yet, when you enjoy the whole of His creation and inhabit this world, you do not deign to pay back even a small reward? And what excuse could you have? Just as one who throws a stone upward cannot cleave the heavenly body, nor can he reach that height, but instead receives a wound upon his own head as the stone falls back upon the one who threw it, so too, he who blasphemes against that blessed essence of God will never inflict any harm upon Him, since He is far greater and more exalted than to be able to receive any detriment; rather, such a man sharpens a sword against his own head, having become ungrateful toward his Benefactor.

Let those who curiously scrutinize that blessed essence of the Divinity, and who assert that that incomprehensible nature is comprehensible, hear this, so that they may know that a human being cannot behold the essence even of an angel without fear. That holy prophet Daniel, that friend of God, who had great freedom and confidence before Him, fasted for three weeks of days, and ate no desirable bread, and neither wine nor meat entered his mouth, nor was he anointed with ointment (Dan. X, 3). And when his soul was more fit to receive a vision of this kind, having become lighter and more spiritual through the fast, then he beheld the angel, and he says: "My inward parts were turned in my vision, and my strength remained not in me, and my glory was turned into corruption" (Ibid. vv. 16, 17). For though he was a handsome youth, the fear of the angel who was present had rendered him like those who are dying; having dissipated the great beauty of his complexion, and having lost the grace of his comeliness, and having consumed the whole proper color of his countenance, he therefore says: "My glory is turned into corruption." The angel raised him up, therefore; yet he stood trembling, and when the angel began to speak to him, he fell again to the ground. And just as those who are faint with fear, after they have been raised and have come to themselves and opened their eyes, even while we are supporting them and sprinkling their faces with cold water, still often faint again in our very hands, so too it happened to the prophet. For his soul, struck with fear, and not enduring the sight of the presence of his fellow-servant, nor being able to bear that light, was in a tumult, hastening to shake itself free from the bond of the flesh as from some chain; but the latter held him back.

But if Daniel, whom the eyes of lions respected, Daniel, who in a human body surpassed human strength, and who was known by the testimony of his wisdom and justice and many other righteous deeds, did not endure the presence of his fellow-servant, but lay as one dead: what will happen to those who are still so far from the virtue of that just man, and yet curiously scrutinize the Lord of angels Himself, and promise an exact knowledge of His essence—of that supreme and primary essence, I say, which surpasses so many myriads of angels, one of whom Daniel was not able to behold? For just as one who is blind does not perceive the unapproachable rays of the sun in the same way as one who can see, so we do not know the immense nature of God in the same way as the angelic powers; and we know it so much the less insofar as they themselves are purer, wiser, and more perspicacious than human nature: for as much difference as there is between the blind and the one who sees, just so much is there between the angels and us. When, therefore, you hear the prophet saying: "I saw the Lord" (Isa. VI, 4), do not suspect that he saw the essence itself, but rather a certain condescension; and even this, he saw more obscurely than the supernal powers themselves do.

This is also manifest from the apostles. For, he says, "Jesus went up into the mountain, and was transfigured before them" (Matt. XVII, 1, 2). What is, "was transfigured"? He revealed a small portion of the divinity, and showed the indwelling God. "And His face shone as the sun, and His garments became white as the light" (Ibid.). The evangelist wished to show His splendor, and he says, "He shone." Shone how? "He shone," he says, "vehemently." And how vehemently, I ask? "As the sun." As the sun, you ask? Indeed. For what reason? I have no other star so bright, so serene. It was white as snow; I have no other matter whiter. That He did not shine in that way is shown by what follows: "And the disciples fell upon the ground." For if He had shone merely as the sun, the disciples would not have fallen to the ground; for they saw the sun every day, and yet they did not fall: but because He surpassed the sun in splendor by far, and the snow, they therefore, not enduring such a glow, fell to the ground.

But whither shall I turn? I am a man, and I speak to men; I have a terrestrial tongue; I ask God for pardon. For I have not used such words out of any arrogance, but because of the weakness and the natural limitation of our tongue. Be merciful, Lord: for I do not bring forth these words out of pride, but because others are not available; nor do I linger in the insignificance of the word, but I ascend upward as if by the wing of the intellect. It is for this reason that I have also brought these things forward, and have read to you the history of the blessed Daniel, and was showing you how he grew pale, trembled, and was failing in soul, the soul attempting to break apart the bond of the body, so that you might know fully and abundantly, all you who say that God is comprehensible, that no one can endure the sight not only of God, but even of an angel. For just as a dove, tame and gentle, living in some little house, if ever it senses some fear, trembling flies up into the roof, and seeking some exit through the windows, desires to be freed from the trial: so indeed did the soul of that holy man hasten to ascend out of the body, and was rushing to depart. And in truth it would have departed and flown away, and would have left the body empty, had not the angel immediately rescued it from the danger and led it back to its own dwelling. For if that just man, who had such great confidence, did not endure the sight of an angel: what will befall those who are so far inferior to him, and not only do not examine an angel, but curiously scrutinize the very Lord of angels? He tamed the fury of lions (Dan. III); but we cannot overcome even foxes: he tore a dragon through the middle; but we fear even minute reptiles. And if such a great and such a man, seeing an angel coming to him, was seized by a grave vertigo, what excuse will they have who, at...

he middle; but we fear even minute reptiles. And if such a great and such a man, seeing an angel coming to him, was seized by a grave vertigo, what excuse will they have who, at ^A that moment, do not rise up in heart? His magnitude has no limit, and his wisdom has no number; are all things incomprehensible; and shall He alone be comprehensible? And how will this not be the height of madness? Who would not lament this derangement and this extreme insanity of yours? Let us strive, beloved, with all our might to cast this away, always imagining Paul standing before our eyes, crying out with astonishment and saying: "Oh, how inscrutable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" To Him be glory unto the ages. Amen.

Homily XXII

If you wish, beloved, let us set before you for the encouragement of patience the noble labors of the righteous Job. For this man—this man who enjoyed such glory, and who was escorted by everyone, and who was proclaimed everywhere with much splendor—having been suddenly brought down to dishonor and poverty, was wrestling with poverty and disease and the loss of children and the uprising of enemies and the ingratitude of friends and hunger and bodily ^B pains and insults and false accusations. And what is more grievous, these things fell upon him while he was unpracticed in them. For one who is born of poor parents and is reared in such a house, as one having trained and practiced, would easily bear the weight of poverty; but one who is surrounded by such financial means and abounding in such wealth, then suddenly falling into the opposite state, would not easily endure such a change. ^C And he who loses his children, even if he loses them all, if not at one time, has those who remain as a consolation for those who have departed; and if the sorrow from the death of the former has stopped, if the death of the second occurs after a time, the sorrow becomes more bearable by this very fact. For the wound does not come upon him when it is fresh, but when it has already been put to rest and faded; which cuts away no small portion of the pain. But this man saw his entire choir snatched away in a single moment of time, and in a most bitter manner of death, and at the hour of a banquet, and in a house that had been opened to guests; and the house itself became a grave for them. And who could describe that hunger, the more strange one that cannot be described—the voluntary, the involuntary? For I do not know how I should call it. Voluntary? But he wished to taste of the things set before him. But involuntary? But the food was present, and there was no one to hinder him; yet he was refraining from the table that was set, and though he saw them, he did not touch the foods. For the foul odor of the wounds upon his body, meeting him first, destroyed his desire and was filling the very table with repulsion. "For I see my food," he says, "as a stench" (Job 6:7). The urgency of hunger was compelling him to touch the things set before him, but the excess of the foul odor coming from his flesh was prevailing against the violence of the hunger. How could I recount the pains, the fountains of worms, the discharge flowing down, the mockery of friends, the contempt of servants? "For my servants did not spare me," he says, "from the face of spittle; and those whom I did not deem worthy to be with the dogs of my flocks, these have now fallen upon me, and they, the least, instruct me." Are these not all seen to be grievous? Indeed, they are grievous and unbearable; yet, when the philanthropic God deigned to tell him the cause of these struggles, that he might be shown righteous, these things were permitted; he thus breathed freely, as if he seemed to have suffered none of those grievous things. For as in the arena the athlete must struggle with sweat and dust and much heat and labors and hardships, so also the righteous man here must endure many things and bear all things nobly, if he is to receive the bright crowns there. For if we deem the body blessed which can bear cold and heat without pain, and hunger and need and journeying and other hardships, much more ought we to deem the soul blessed which is able to bear firmly and nobly all the assaults of evils, and to keep its own mind unenslaved throughout. ^D As, therefore, the soul which enjoys idleness and ease is easily captured by the passions, so also that which is continuously occupied in the struggles for piety does not even have the leisure to ever ponder these things, as the concern for the contests leads it away from all those. For not only doing something good, but also suffering evil, carries many rewards; and Job demonstrates that he was approved more from his sufferings than from his good deeds. For he was not so bright when he possessed his wealth, and opened his house to the poor, and was giving out what he had, as when, having heard that it had fallen, he did not lose heart; he was not so bright, because he clothed the naked from the shearing of his sheep, as he was bright and approved, because, having heard that fire had fallen and consumed everything, he gave thanks. At that time he was a philanthropist; now he became a philosopher; then he was feeding the poor, but now he gives thanks to the Master. And he did not say to himself: "What is this? The flocks are consumed, from which myriads of poor were fed; and, if I was unworthy to enjoy prosperity, one ought to have been spared for the sake of those who have nothing." But he never said or thought any such thing; but he knew that God manages all things for the common benefit. And so that you may learn that he gave a greater blow to the devil later, in that having been stripped he gave thanks—more than when he was possessing and showing mercy—hear: when he possessed, even if the devil had some suspicion to say, "Does Job worship thee for nothing?" (Job 1:9)? After he had stripped him of everything, and with him when he was spoiled, when he served God with the same benevolence...

then at last his impudent mouth was obstructed, and he had nothing more to say; for the righteous man was now more illustrious than he was by his previous deeds. For it is a far greater thing to be stripped of all things and to bear it bravely with thanksgiving, than to be living in wealth and giving alms. For when things are going prosperously, to give thanks to God is nothing worthy of admiration; but if a heavy storm arises and the ship is tossed and in danger, then it is a great indication of patience and of a grateful mind. For if those who are conscious of a thousand evils, when they lose even a little gold—and that often acquired through rapine—think their life bitter and intolerable, how many crowns would righteous Job not be worthy of, who saw that which had been collected by just means being seized randomly and by chance, and besides those things suffered infinite waves of temptations, and remaining immovable through them all, offered to the Master the due thanksgiving? For even if one were to be silent about all other things, the words of his wife alone were enough to shake a rock. For if many, while in high spirits and suffering nothing troublesome, have been led astray by the discourses of women, imagine how vigorous his soul was, which with such weapons repelled her. For when a woman is present, and speaks in a pitiful way, and has the season favorable to her, and when there are wounds and stripes and the infinite strokes of thoughts, how would one not justly declare his soul to be firmer than any adamant, having suffered nothing from such a storm? Permit me to say with boldness, that he was not inferior to the apostles themselves, if not even greater. For they had the consolation that they were suffering for Christ; but he was destitute even of this very consolation. And what is greater, he was educated in much luxury, not having been one of the fishermen or publicans and those living in humble circumstances, but having attained such honor, he suffered all things. And he endured that which seemed most burdensome in the apostles, while he suffered reproaches and hatred not from enemies, but from friends and household servants and those who had been benefited by him. ^A And since these things are so, come, let us henceforth make a comparison of the things which he performed and the things which he suffered, so that you may clearly understand that rewards are stored up not only for right actions, but also for the things which a man suffers; and indeed rewards that are very great, and not less than those for right actions. And let us introduce, if you please, this very great wrestler of patience, Job, illustrious from all sides; and let us see by making a comparison, when he was more bright: when he opened his house to all who arrived, or when he remained speechless with no harsh word after it had collapsed, but praised God? When, tell me, was he more illustrious, when he was offering sacrifice for his children and leading them to harmony, or when they were buried and had finished their life by a most bitter kind of death, and he bore the misfortune most wisely? When was he shining more, when the shoulders of the naked were warmed by the fleeces of his sheep, or when, hearing that fire had fallen from heaven and consumed the flock with the shepherds, he was not troubled or confounded, but bore the calamity gently? When was he greater, ^B when he used the health of his body for the defense of the oppressed, crushing the molars of the iniquitous and snatching the prey from the midst of their teeth; or when he saw this very body, the shield of the oppressed, being consumed by worms, and sitting upon a dunghill he himself was scraping it with a potsherd? For he says, "I scrape away the clods of the earth, while I scrape off the corruption" (Job 7:5). And those former deeds were indeed very famous, but these were tribulations; yet nevertheless these made Job more illustrious than those. For when those former things were happening, although very impudently and stubbornly, the devil still contradicted, saying, "Does Job worship God for nothing?" (Job 1:9); but when these things were happening, he departed affected by shame and turned his back, nor had he any shadow of an impudent contradiction to object. Therefore, if at any time you see a righteous man shining by the progress of great works, and meanwhile suffering infinite evils, do not wonder; for it was proper to wonder on the contrary, if the devil, having received many blows, were to be silent and to bear his wounds meekly. For it would not be a thing to wonder at if a serpent, being constantly goaded, should grow wild and leap upon the goader; and it is necessary for one returning from battle and victory and slaughter to be covered with blood, and often also to have wounds. When, therefore, you see anyone doing alms and working other innumerable good deeds, and thus breaking the strength of the devil, and afterwards falling into temptations and dangers, do not be troubled on that account; for he falls into temptations because he has vehemently inflicted blows upon the devil. And how did God permit this, you ask? So that he may be crowned more, so that he may receive a more brilliant blow. It is indeed a great thing, while things are prosperous, to both show mercy and to adhere to virtue; but it is far greater, while suffering heavy things, to show oneself invincible and readier for the labors of virtue. For just as it happens to sinners, that those who have suffered no evil here undergo greater punishment there, so also among those who act rightly, those who have endured many adversities here will enjoy much more honor there. And just as there being two sinners, if one indeed is punished here, but the other not at all, he who is punished is happier than the one not punished; so also there being two righteous men here, if one indeed endures more tribulations and the other fewer, he who endures more is more blessed. But those who do not bear the discipline of God with thanksgiving, but bear it with an uneasy mind, cause themselves to perceive no fruit from it, and cast themselves into extreme dangers. ^C But you are living in poverty and hunger and infinite dangers? Learn, therefore, even from the needy to give thanks to the Lord; for they, spending their whole life in begging, do not blaspheme, do not grow indignant, do not bear it with annoyance, but endure it with thanksgiving. For what have you suffered that is like that which he suffered? You have been deprived of an eye? But he of both. Have you labored with a long-standing disease? But he with one incurable. Have you lost your children? But he even the health of his own body. Have you been struck with a great loss? But you have not yet arrived at the point of needing others. But are these not enough? Consider for me that immovable tower of patience, Job. For who was poorer than he, who even to the

relinquished those who were in the baths, and of those who slept in the furnace ash, he was poorer than all men collectively? ^A For they possessed at least torn garments, but he sat naked, and the only garment he had from nature—the covering of his flesh—the devil corrupted with grievous rot. And the poor are at least under the roof of the porticos in the baths, or are covered with straw, but he continued, passing every night in the open air, not having the comfort even of a simple roof. And what is greater, they are conscious of many evils of their own (and this is no small comfort in calamity, to be aware that one is justly punished), but he was deprived even of this comfort, and having displayed a life full of virtue, he endured what the most extreme criminals undergo. Moreover, they were prepared for calamity from the beginning, but he endured an unpracticed poverty, suffering a sudden change from wealth. ^B Have you seen him come to the most extreme poverty, and after which it is impossible to find another? For what could be poorer than one who is naked, has no roof, and does not even enjoy a floor? For he did not sit upon the ground, but upon the dunghill. ^C Therefore, when you see yourself fallen into poverty, think of the suffering of the just man, and you will immediately be roused, and will beat back every thought of despondency. If you also wish to hear of the war waged by nature, which in extreme measure was set upon this noble man, attend to what I say. He lost ten children, the ten all at once, in the very flower of their youth, the ten of them having shown much virtue, and not by the common law of nature, but by a violent and piteous death. Who could tell of such a calamity? Or what man of iron, what diamond, could have endured such great evils? There is none, there is none. For if each of these alone is unbearable, imagine how all of them coming together raised up such a tumult. When therefore you lose a son and daughter together, run back to that just man, and you will find for yourself much comfort. ^D Remember his words regarding the calamity of his children, which bound his holy head more than a thousand crowns. Consider the magnitude of the calamity, and that strange shipwreck, that foreign and paradoxical tragedy. For perhaps you have lost one, or a second, or a third, but he, so many sons and so many daughters, and the father of many suddenly became childless. And not even by degrees was his inward being consumed, but all the fruit was snatched away at once; and that, too, when he was not present or sitting by, in order that, by hearing their last words, he might have some comfort concerning so bitter a death, but contrary to all expectation, and one grief surpassed another. For it was not death prematurely only, but that they were all in their bloom, that they were virtuous and loving, that they were all together, that they were of both natures, that it was not by the common law of nature, that it was after such extensive loss, that he was conscious of no evil in himself nor in them for them to suffer these things. For each of these is sufficient even by itself to strike with awe; but when they are seen conspiring together, imagine the height of the waves, and the extent of the winter storm and the tempest.

These things are admirable even when heard simply, but if you examine them with precision, then you will see the miracle all the more. For consider that the devil did not take half and leave half, nor did he take the majority and leave the minority, but he harvested the entire fruit, and did not fell the tree; he brought the whole sea with its waves, and did not sink the vessel; he emptied the whole power, and did not shake the tower, but it stood, pelted from all sides, and remained unbent; and snowy flakes of arrows were carried, and it was not struck; or rather, they were sent, but did not wound. Consider how great it is to have lost so many children; for what was not sufficient to bite? Was it not that all were snatched away? Was it not that all were at once and in one day? Was it not in the very flower of their age? Was it not their showing much virtue, and the ending of their lives by such a mode of punishment? Was it not that after so many blows this last one was inflicted? Was it not that the father was so full of affection? Was it not that the departed were so desirable? For when one loses evil children, he is bitten by the suffering, but not with such intensity; for the wickedness of the departed does not allow the grief to be more stinging; but when they are virtuous, the wound becomes permanent, not only to one showing affection from nature, but also that from reverence. Again, when they are snatched away by parts, the suffering has some comfort; for those who survive cast a shadow over the despondency for the departed; but when the entire choir has departed, whom can the father of many look upon, having suddenly become childless? For if, when some have passed away in three or five days, women and all relatives weep for this most of all, that the deceased was snatched away quickly and suddenly from their sight, many times more would this man have grieved, having had them all taken away thus, not in three or two days, or one, but in one hour. For the evil that has been practiced by time, even if it is very unbearable, would easily become light by expectation; but that which happens contrary to expectation and suddenly, even if it is light by nature, becomes unbearable by the fact that it is unexpected and sudden. When, therefore, something is both a hardship in itself and receives the addition of having happened contrary to expectation, consider how it becomes unbearable and exceeds all speech. For they did not see them breathing their last and in their death throes upon a bed, but buried in the house, all of them. Consider, then, who it was that was digging out that mass of earth, and now pulling out a stone, now a limb of a child, and seeing a hand still holding a vial, and another right hand reclining upon the platter, and the very form of the body corrupted, his nose crushed, his face shattered, his eyes extinguished, his brain scattered—the whole form completely corrupted—and the variety of wounds not permitting the father to recognize the face. Are you troubled hearing these things, and do you pour out tears? Consider, then, who he was who was seeing this. And if you, after so much time, cannot bear to hear that tragedy without tears, consider what he was like, who was perceiving these things face to face, and not in others,

but philosophizing in terms of his own disasters? For he did not complain, nor did he say: "What is this? Is this my reward for kindness and hospitality? Was it for this that I opened my house to travelers, simply that I might see it become the tomb of my children? Was it for this I displayed every manner of virtue toward them, that they might undergo such a death?" He said none of these things, nor did he consider them; but after being bereaved like that, even in their presence, he bore all things bravely. ^A Were these, then, the only evils that befell him? The desertion and betrayal by friends, the sarcasms and calumnies, the mockery and derision, and to be torn apart by everyone—are these things bearable and worthy of consolation? These are surely not bearable even to hear, let alone in the reality of the trials themselves. For the nature of calamities is not so accustomed to bite our soul as are those who reproach us while we are in the midst of the calamities. ^B Observe now, with me, from this side as well, the gentleness and the love for God of that heroic and adamantine soul. For when he saw himself involved in the ultimate evils, having fulfilled the sum of all virtue, while wicked men and impostors were living a pleasant life, he said nothing of the kind that it is natural for some weak persons to say: "For this did I rear my children, and train them with such diligence? For this did I open my house to neighbors, so as to receive such repayments after the many runs I made for those in need, for the naked, for the orphans?" ^C But instead of these things, he uttered words superior to all sacrifice, saying: *The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away* (Job 1:21). But if he tore his garments and sheared his hair, do not marvel; for he was a father, a deeply loving father, and he had to demonstrate both natural compassion and the philosophy of the mind; for if he had not done even this, one might have thought this philosophy to be insensible and stupid. And you, therefore, if you lose your money and do not complain, but bearing things bravely thank God, and say those words of Job, *The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away*, you shall make a profit through these things from your loss. What are you saying: *The Lord hath taken away*? A thief took it, and how can I say, *The Lord hath taken away*? Do not marvel; for Job says that the things ^D which the devil snatched away, the Lord took away; and how is it that you do not say that the Lord took away the things which a thief stole? Do not even say: "I have no reward; it was not of my own mind, nor did the thief snatch it at my knowledge or will; what will be my reward?" For it was not at Job's knowledge or will that these things were done—how could it be?—yet he has no less [a reward] than those who give alms, even he who does not give at that time. But if some have urged you to go to a soothsayer, ^A and you, for the sake of the fear of God, since it is forbidden, choose rather not to receive money than to oppose God, you have an equal reward to those who gave them to the poor, because you gave thanks when it was lost, and when you could have gone to the soothsayers, you preferred not to have [the money] rather than to receive it in that way. For just as the other gave to the poor out of the fear of God, so you, too, out of the fear of God, after they had snatched it, did not receive it back. Did he deprive you of that money? Do not you deprive yourself of [your] salvation; for, grieving over the evils you have suffered from others, you will involve yourself in more evils. He perhaps cast you into poverty; you, ^B however, wickedly inflict yourself with deadly evils; he deprived you of external goods, which even against your will shall depart; you, however, despoil yourself of eternal riches. Did the devil afflict you with sorrow by taking away your money? Afflict him too, by giving thanks to God, and do not take pleasure in it at all. If you go to a soothsayer, you will have made him joyful; if you give thanks to God, you will have dealt him a lethal blow. And see what happens: you will not find the money if you go to the soothsayers; for it is not in them to know; but if they should happen to say something, hitting the mark in any way at all, you will both lose your soul, and you will be derided by your brothers, and you will lose it again in an evil manner. For the demon, knowing that you are ^C impatient of loss, and that you would deny your God because of these things, provides money again, so that he may have an opportunity to deceive and lead you astray again. And just as we prepare against enemies those things by which we may afflict them with sorrow: but if we see them not grieving, we desist, as having nowhere to bite them: so the devil, too, if he sees you mocking and despising his attempts, will withdraw from this path, no longer approaching. It is possible, therefore, for you, while suffering these things, to receive as great a reward as if you had voluntarily thrown your money away. And not without reason do we admire this man more, who bears temptations with thanksgiving, than one who gives willingly. ^D Why so? Because the former is nourished by praises and conscience, and cherishes good hopes; and by bearing the loss of money bravely at first, he afterward threw the same away; but the latter, still clinging to it, was violently despoiled of it? Nor indeed is it the same to have been previously prepared and persuaded to withdraw from money, and thus to empty it out; as it is, for one who is still held by love of it, to be deprived of it: nor again, [is it the same] to have contemplated the contempt of money for a long time, and to be able to tolerate a loss occurring suddenly. For he who has been prepared for calamities will easily bear them as they invade; but he who is lax, and casts off cares and thoughts, if such a thing as the former happens, is troubled twofold, and becomes easily moved to defeat, both because it is unexpected and because he has cast off all vigilance and preparation for adverse things. Moreover, it is no small matter for grief, but it is of all things most intolerable, if anyone, thinking himself delivered and that the end of evil has arrived, having laid aside every care and thought, finds again another beginning of evils. For why did the devil not extinguish Job's wife along with his children? Because he saw that she contributed much to his entrapments. "For if," he says, "through a woman I cast Adam out of paradise, much more on the dunghill will I be able to subvert Job." And observe with me his malice: for not when the oxen were passing away, nor the donkeys, nor the camels, nor when the house was demolished, nor when the children were crushed by the ruin, did he apply this machine; but he remains silent thus far, and allows him to rest, seeing the athlete; but when the fountain of worms burst forth, and the skin, having putrefied, slipped away, and the consumed flesh made matter, full of much stench: and when the devil's hand, sharper than any skillet and furnace and every flame, was consuming him, gnawing his body everywhere more savagely than any beast, and he had passed much time in such a calamity; and for that reason...

^A he saw him thirsting for release and desiring to die, as one who could no longer even breathe (for, he says, "If I could, I would destroy myself, or ask another, and he will do this for me"): then he brings her, and says: "How long do you endure it, saying, Behold, I wait yet a little time, expecting the hope of my salvation?" (Job 2. 8, in the Greek). For he was always consoling or parrying the one who was constantly troubling him, uttering such things: "Wait yet a little, and quickly there shall be an end to these things." Therefore, reproaching him, she says: "Will you not even now say the same? For a long time has already passed, and no end to these things has appeared. Your memorial has perished from the earth, your sons and your daughters, the pangs and the labors of my womb, for whom I labored in vain with struggle; and I, a wanderer and a bondservant, going about from place to place and from house to house. For I do not merely beg, but I wander, and I serve a strange and new servitude, going about everywhere, and carrying with me the tokens of my calamity, and teaching all men my own evils." And what is more pitiable than all, "Awaiting the sun, when it will set, and I shall rest from my labors and from the sorrows that surround me, which now encompass me. But speak a word to the Lord, and finish." What then did this blessed man, firmer than adamant, do? Looking at her bitterly; O mind temperate and moderate! ^B and before his voice, by his look, he parried the engines. For she indeed expected to move the fountains of tears; but he became fiercer than a lion, filled with anger and indignation, and says: "Why have you spoken as one of the foolish women? If we have received good things from the hand of the Lord, shall we not endure the evil things?" (Job 2. 10). For in return for what did God give those things to us? What reward was He exacting? None; but [He did it] out of goodness alone and love for mankind. "For naked I came out of my mother's womb, and naked I shall return," he says. Describe then, you also, the athlete to yourselves, and imagine that you see that dunghill, and him sitting in the midst of the dunghill, that golden statue, that one adorned with gems; him—how shall I say it? I do not know. For I have no material so precious to find, as to be able to compare that bloodied body; so much did the nature of that flesh, from the great abundance of it, appear more brilliant than any precious material, and the wounds more radiant than the rays of the sun. For those ^C rays indeed brighten the eyes of the body; but those illuminate the eyes of our mind. Who saw, who heard such 710 amazing struggles? For the boxers of the outside games, when they have cut the heads of their opponents, then they conquer and are crowned; but this one, when he (the devil) had cut up the body of the righteous man, then he was defeated and retreated. What has happened, O devil, for what reason do you retreat? Were not all things done as you wished? Did you not destroy his flocks, his herds, the droves of horses and mules? Did you not also destroy the choir of children, and cut up all his flesh? For what reason did you retreat? "Because," says he, "all that I wished happened; but that which I wished might happen most of all, and for which I did everything, this did not happen; for he did not blaspheme." For because of this, he says, I was doing all those things, that this might come forth; but this not having happened, nothing was gained for me from the loss of the possessions, and the loss of the children, and the wound of the body; but on the contrary, that which I might have wished happened: I made the enemy more brilliant, I rendered the adversary more radiant. Have you known how much the gain from the tribulation was? For the body was indeed good even when healthy; ^D but it became far more venerable when cut by those wounds. Just as wool is indeed beautiful even before the dyeing, but when it becomes purple, it takes on the beauty and much comeliness. For if he had not stripped him, we would not have known the good condition of the victor; if he had not pierced his body with furrows, the rays would not have shone out from within; if he had not seated him on the dunghill, we would not have known his wealth. For a king is not so brilliant when sitting on a throne, as that man was then, sitting on the dunghill, distinguished and conspicuous. For after the royal throne is death; but after that dunghill is the kingdom of heaven. For because of this the devil ravaged his substance, not that he might make him a pauper, but that he might force him to utter some blasphemous word; and he was cutting up the body, not that he might encompass him with illness, but that he might trip up the virtue of the soul. But nevertheless, having moved all his engines against him, and having made him a pauper instead of a wealthy man—this thing which seems to us all most dreadful—and instead of a father of many children, a childless man, and having mangled all his body more savagely than the torturers in the courts (for the claws of those men do not so hollow out the sides of those who fall into their power, as the mouths of the worms mangled his body), and having cast him not only out of the city and not only out of his house and moved him to another city, but having established the dunghill for him as house and city, he not only did not harm him at all, but even rendered him more brilliant through the things he plotted. And you, therefore, if someone takes away your money, and you bear it nobly, you shall receive the same reward as those who have spent everything on the poor. For just as when we are diligent we gain even from those things that trouble us, so when we are noble-minded we do not become any worse even from those who benefit us. For if he who endured so many things is harmed by nothing, and having suffered not by a man, but by the demon who is more wicked than all the wicked men of the world, what excuse will those have from this time forth who say, "Such and such a person wronged and damaged me?" For if the devil, who is full of such great wickedness, having moved all his instruments against him, and having loosed all his arrows and all the evils that are in men, with much excess, both against the house and against the body of the righteous man...

he did not harm the man but rather benefited him. For how will some be able to find fault with this person or that, when they are not wronged by them, but by themselves, and are not aware of the benefit received? For I also—why do I shrink from the furnace, why do I stand against the tyrant, saying, "We do not serve your gods, and the golden statue which you set up we do not worship"? ^B But this is the greatest

Ecloga of Patience and Long-suffering, Homily XXII

see many dangers, many losses, many deaths awaiting you, and do not be surprised or troubled as these things happen. For "Child," he says, "if you come to serve the Lord, prepare your soul for temptation" (Sir. 2:1). No one who chooses to box expects to win a crown without wounds. Whenever, therefore, you have done something good and receive the opposite, or see another suffering this, rejoice and be glad; for the matter becomes one of greater enjoyment. Do not therefore lose heart in your zeal; do not become more sluggish, but rather set yourself to it with greater zeal; even if you see the devil interrupting you a thousand times, never depart. Since the apostles, too, when they were scourged while preaching, and lived continuously in prisons, not only after their release from dangers but even within the dangers themselves, with greater zeal proclaimed the message of the truth. And it is possible to see Paul in that very prison, in those very chains, instructing and initiating [men], and in the courtroom again doing the same thing. And look with me at that blessed soul, in what he glories: in chains, in tribulations, in bonds, in stigmata. "For I go," he says, "to Jerusalem, bound by the Spirit, not knowing what will befall me there; except that the Spirit testifies to me in every city, saying that chains and tribulations await me" (Acts 20:22-23). Why then do you depart, if chains and tribulations await you? For this very reason, that I may be bound for Christ, that I may die for Him. For I am ready not only to be bound but even to die for the name of my Lord. What is this, then? Are you not ashamed, are you not afraid to walk around the inhabited world in chains? Do you not fear lest someone condemn the weakness of your God? Lest someone, because of this, fail to come near? "My chains are not of this kind," he says; "I know how to shine even in palaces. So that my chains," he says, "have become manifest in all the praetorium, and the greater part of the brothers in the Lord, having confidence in my chains, are bolder to speak the word fearlessly" (Phil. 1:13-14). Do you see the strength of chains more than for the resurrection of the dead? He was bound in Rome, and he drew the majority [to him]; he was bound in Jerusalem, and being bound and speaking publicly, he struck terror into the king, and brought the governor to fear; for becoming fearful, he released him. Bound, he sailed, and he dissolved the shipwreck, and tethered the winter; while he was in chains, that beast [the viper] laid hold of him, and he escaped having suffered nothing. And look everywhere at this happening. He had been scourged, and he had been scourged severely; "For having laid many stripes upon him," he says; and he was bound, and this again severely; "For they cast him into the inner prison," and with the greater security. And being in such things, at midnight, when even those who are quite relaxed are asleep, he stood and sang praises to God. What could be more adamant than this soul? He reflected that the children also sang in the fire and in the furnace. Perhaps he was reasoning that I have suffered nothing of the sort. ^A But well does the discourse, in doing so, lead forth to other bonds and another prison. What am I to suffer? I want to be silent, but I cannot; I have found another prison ^B much more wonderful and astonishing than that one. I want to look into the discourse, and it does not endure; I cannot cease, I cannot be silent. Many things flow around me; I do not know which to say first, which second. Therefore, I ask that no one demand an order of me; for the kinship of the matters is great. Long has the chain of Paul become, and because of this it has occupied us; but I will not be silent because of this; for if he himself ^C in the prison did not keep silence, nor in the scourges, shall I be silent sitting while it is day, and speaking with much comfort? And how would this be reasonable? Many, then, are the signs of the miracles of Paul in many places, but they are not as desirable as the stigmata; and he does not so much gladden in the Scriptures by working miracles, as when he is suffering, being scourged, being dragged about, being stoned; for "Having stoned him," he says, "they dragged him outside the city" (Acts 14:19); and again: "Having beaten him and laid many stripes upon him, they cast him into prison" (Acts 16:23). What glory, what pleasure, what honor, what splendor is it to know that he was bound for Christ! But look at the wonderful thing; "And the prison was shaken," he says, "with Paul bound, and the bonds of all were loosed" (Acts 16:26). Have you seen the nature of chains loosing chains? And the jailer, becoming awake, and seeing the doors of the prison opened, having drawn a sword, was about to destroy himself (ibid. 27). What then [did] Paul [do]? He called out with a loud voice, saying: "Do nothing evil to yourself, for we are all here" (ibid. 28). Do you see his lack of vainglory and his lack of pride and his affection? He did not say that ^D "These things have come to pass because of us," but as if one of the prisoners, he says: "For we are all here." For if he had been silent, and had not restrained his hands by the loud voice, he would have thrust the sword through his throat; but he cried out, since he had been thrown into the inner prison: "You have done this against yourself," he says, "having cast further inside those who were about to free you from the danger." Have you seen the kindness and the solicitous care of Paul? He chose to be bound and to be in danger himself, rather than to overlook him being destroyed. Whom would the power of the chains surrounding him not astonish? That it led those who had bound him to the feet of the bound man, and made them the subordinates of this one; "For the jailer," he says, "fell down before Paul" (Acts 16:29); and the one loosed was under the feet of the one bound, and the one who had bound him begged the one who had been bound to be loosed from fear. Tell me, did you not bind him? Did you not cast him into the inner prison? Did you not secure his feet in the stocks? Why do you tremble? Why are you troubled? Why do you weep? Why have you drawn the sword? "I did not know," he says, "that the power of those bound for Christ was so great." What do you say? He received authority to open the heavens, and was he not about to open a prison? He was loosing those bound by demons, and was iron about to prevail over him? He who was loosing bound souls, would he not have had the power to loose his own body? He who through his garments was loosing others from those chains and delivering them from demons, would he not have loosed himself through himself? For this reason he was bound first, and then he loosed the bound, so that you might learn that the servants of Christ, even when bound, are much more [powerful] than those who are loosed.

HOMILY XXIII. On Almsgiving and Hospitality.

^A ...to have sent them, when he even opened the outer prison? But let us hear him boasting of this very thing and saying: "I therefore, a prisoner in the Lord, beseech you" (Eph. iv, 1). For great and ample is this dignity, and greater than a kingdom and a consulship and all things, to be a prisoner for Christ; for nothing is so glorious as to be a prisoner for Christ, as to have those holy hands surrounded by chains. This is far more splendid and august than to be an apostle, than to be a teacher, than to be an evangelist. If anyone loves Christ, he knows what I say. If anyone is mad and burns with the love of the Lord, he knows the power of the chains; he would perhaps prefer to be a prisoner for Christ than to inhabit the heavens. For perhaps this is even more splendid, more honorable, and more blessed than to sit at His right hand or upon the twelve thrones. If anyone were to grant me the whole heaven, or that chain by which Paul’s hands were bound, I would prefer the latter; if anyone were to set me among the angels above, or with Paul in prison, I would choose the chains; if anyone were to make me be with those Powers that are around the throne, or a prisoner such as this, I would choose to be a prisoner such as this rather. For there is nothing better than to suffer ills for Christ. If anyone were to give me the power to raise the dead, not even then would I choose that, but rather the chain; for than that chain nothing is more blessed. I would wish now to be in those places where those chains remain, and to see the chains which demons have feared and shudder at, and which angels revere. If I were free from ecclesiastical cares and had a robust body, I would not at all refuse to make such a pilgrimage, that I might see only the chains and the prison where Paul was a prisoner. O blessed chains! O blessed hands, which that chain, wrapped around Paul, adorned! Not so precious were his hands when they raised the lame man in Lystra, as when they were surrounded with chains. If I had been present at those times, then more than ever would I have embraced them and applied them to the pupils of my eyes; I would never have ceased kissing the hands deemed worthy to be bound for my Lord. I do not so much pronounce him blessed because he was caught up into the third heaven and into paradise, as because he was cast into prison: I do not so much call him blessed because he heard unspeakable words, as because he endured chains; for these are much greater than those. ^B For it is more desirable to me to be afflicted for Christ, than to be honored by Christ. Thinking this, as is consistent, Paul also said: If even He, for my sake, was made a servant and emptied Himself of glory, and did not count Himself to be in glory as much as when He was being fastened to the cross for me, what ought I not to suffer? For hear Him saying: "Glorify me, O Father" (John xvii, 5). What are you saying? You are being led to the cross with thieves and tomb-robbers, to suffer the death of criminals; you are to be spat upon and struck with buffets, and do you call these things glory? "Yes," He says, "I suffer these things for those I love, and deservedly do I consider these same things to be glory." If, therefore, my Lord, loving the miserable and wretched, calls these things glory, and prefers this to the glory of the Father’s throne, much more ought I to consider these things to be glory. All men are astounded at Job because of his patience, because of his purity of life, because of the testimony of God, and because of that fierce struggle, because of that admirable victory after the struggle: but what the soul of an adamant could exhibit the tolerance of Paul? For he did not spend his life struggling in this way for many months, but for many years: not scraping off clods of earth while he wiped away sanies, but constantly falling into the very intelligible mouth of the lion, and fighting with infinite temptations; and being reviled, spat upon, and loaded with curses not by three or four friends, but by all the unfaithful, and enduring infinite clouds of temptations, and now indeed scourged, now indeed wasted in body by stones, and consumed by constant hunger and cold. But the hospitality of Job is great? We do not deny it; but we shall find it as much inferior to the hospitality of Paul as the body is viler than the soul. For what he did to those injured in the flesh, this man provided to those who had suffered loss in their soul: and he indeed, having infinite oxen and sheep, did this; but this one, possessing nothing besides his body, from this very thing supplied the needy, and cried out, saying: "These hands have provided for my necessities and for those who were with me" (Acts xx, 34). Let us emulate these, let us all imitate these, that we may obtain equal praises and rewards, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory forever. Amen.

HOMILY XXIII. On Almsgiving and Hospitality.

The sermon on almsgiving, beloved, is fitting not only for the rich, but also for the poor; even if anyone lives by begging, this sermon extends to him also: for no one is so poor, even if he be very poor, that he does not have two mites. For it is possible even from a little to give a little and surpass those who possess much, by giving more: just like that widow. For the magnitude of almsgiving is judged not by the measure of what is given, but by the capacity and intention of the givers. For one ought not to attend to this, that the widow offered two obols, but that having only these, she did not spare them, but contributed her entire substance. Therefore, not abundance, but the readiness of the mind is what we need. For just as with it present, poverty will have hindered nothing: so with it absent, an abundance of goods will have profited us nothing. Therefore the wicked rich will be punished more than the poor, because they were not mild even in abundance. And do not tell me that they gave alms: for unless they gave according to the dignity of their wealth, they will not even thus escape punishment. For almsgiving is not estimated by the measure of things given, but by the compliance of the mind. And can it be, someone will say, that a rich man be saved? And most certainly. Abraham was rich. Have you seen his riches? See also his hospitality. At midday the Lord appeared to him sitting at the oak of Mamre, and three men. And rising (for he did not think it was God who was present: [original-script column: see facsimile])

^A he worshiped and said: "If you have judged me worthy, that you should enter into the tent of my servants." Do you see what the old man was doing at midday? Not sitting under a roof, but like a stranger and a traveler—he, the rich and noble man—abandoning his house, his wife, his children, his servants, he went out to fish, spreading the net of hospitality, lest perhaps a stranger, lest perhaps a traveler should pass by his house. And see what he does. He does not entrust it to a servant, although he had three hundred and eighteen (for he knew that the race of servants is slothful), lest the servant should doze off and the stranger pass by and we lose the catch; but he himself sat, receiving the hot ray like dew in the heat; and the desire for hospitality was his shade. Behold Abraham; behold the rich man. Do you deign at all even to see a poor man? Or to answer? Or to converse? ^B Do you wish to imitate Abraham? I do not forbid it, nay, I even desire it; although greater things are required of us than were required of Abraham. But what, you say, did Abraham have? He was hospitable. And Abraham rose, he says, and worshiped, not even knowing who were present. For if he had known, he would have done nothing wonderful, because he was serving God; but his ignorance of those who had arrived shows his readiness for hospitality to be the greater. And he calls Sarah too, making her a participant in the hospitality: "Let the things of marriage," he says, "be common, and the things of virtue; hasten and knead three measures of fine flour." And she did not say anything of this sort: "Is it for these hopes that I was married, that you might make me a miller and a baker, I who have so much wealth? You have three hundred and eighteen slaves, and you did not come to command them, but you cast me into this service?" But she hears: "Hasten," and she snatches the command. Where are the women of today? Do they receive such commands? Throw out her hand and you see it adorned with gold on the outside, but inside possessing a siege. How many poor men’s greed does your hand carry? Show me your hand, show me what it is in need of: greed. Throw out Sarah's hand; what is it bestowed with? Hospitality, alms, love, love for the poor. "Hasten and knead three measures of fine flour." And he himself ran to the herd of oxen. They share the labor so that they may share the crown. Then he sacrificed the calf. At the same time, the old man became a runner; for the tone of his flesh was not weakened, but his mind was braced by philosophy; readiness conquered nature. The master of three hundred and eighteen servants, carrying a calf, was not burdened by the weight, but was lightened by his mind and his readiness. The run was set before the old man. How great the toil! But he did not feel the toil, because of the hope of gain. What then did the one who had arrived say? "I will return at this time, and Sarah shall have a son." Do you see what fruit the table brought forth? How beautiful! How swift! How mature! How the grape is ripening and complete! Such are the fruits of hospitality. ^C Let us not, then, think that our substance is diminished when we provide alms; for it is not diminished, but increased; it is not spent, but abounds, and what is done is a kind of business and seed—or rather, it is more profitable and safer than both of these. For trade is subject to winds and the waves of the sea and many shipwrecks; and seeds to droughts and heavy rains and other irregularities of the air. But money cast into the hand of the Lord is above every plot, and no one is able to snatch what has been given once from the hand of the one who received it, but it remains and produces for us a great and ineffable fruit, and brings the harvest in its season, rich. For if a man, having received it, will not overlook it but will return the grace, much more will Christ. For He who gives even without receiving, how will He not give after receiving? Hear Solomon: "He who has mercy on the poor," he says, "lends to God." Do you see the nature of a loan, strange and paradoxical? The one who receives is one, and a different one is he who renders himself liable for the loan. Why did he not say, "He who has mercy on the poor gives to God," but "Lends"? So that you might not think the recompense is simple. The Scripture knows our greed; it attended to the fact that our insatiability, looking toward gain, seeks an increase, and nowhere are there those willing to lend money ^D to the poor without security, or a mortgage, or pledges, or a guarantor. And since God knows that without these no one lends, and does not look to philanthropy but looks only to profit—and the poor man is destitute of all these, having no mortgage (for he possesses nothing), nor bringing pledges (for he has been stripped), nor providing an endorser (for he is disbelieved on account of his poverty)—as He saw him in danger through his poverty, and the one who has money in danger through his inhumanity, He placed Himself in the middle, as a guarantor for the poor man, and as a pledge for the lender. "He who has mercy on the poor," he says, "lends to God." And yet, if it is necessary to lend, we make inquiries about those who lend much, and we look around for those who are grateful; but here we do the opposite: we leave the grateful God, who grants a hundredfold, and we seek those who will not even return the principal to us. For what will our belly return to us, which consumes the greater part? Dung and corruption. And what will vainglory? Envy and spite. And what will stinginess? Worry and anxiety. And what will licentiousness? Hell and the venomous worm. For these are the creditors of the wealthy, and providing the interest on this principal, they pay the evils here and the expected woes. Why then do you not give to Him who will certainly give, and give more? Perhaps because He gives after a long time. And yet, He gives even here; for He is truthful who says: "Seek the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you." Beside these, even the receiving after a long time increases the wealth for you; for the interest becomes greater. For we see this even in the case of those who lend; we call those lenders who are more ready to lend to those who pay back after a long time. For the one who pays back everything immediately cuts short the course of the interest; but the one who holds it for a longer time, and the labor,

^A has caused it to be more. And so, do we not tolerate delay among men, but even purposely seek it so that it may be more, yet toward God we are so petty-minded and stingy? *He who has pity on the poor lends to the Lord* (Prov. 19:17). And do you say to me, "Lord, do you borrow the alms given to the poor?" In order that you may one day pay this back to me, give me a term for the repayment, set a deadline. When and where will you pay back the debt? *When the Son of man shall sit on the throne of his glory* (Matt. 25:31), and shall set the sheep indeed on the right, but the goats on the left, and shall say to those on the right: *Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world* (v. 34). For what? *For I was hungry, and ye gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me to drink; I was naked, and ye covered me* (vv. 35-36). And why, O Lord, did you not mention other ways, but only alms? I do not judge, he says, the sin, but the inhumanity; I do not judge those who have sinned, but those who have not repented. For the sake of your inhumanity I condemn you, because having so much, and such a medicine for salvation, I mean alms, by which all sins are blotted out, you have passed over such a benefit. For you did not receive money for this, that you might spend it on luxury, but that you might spend it on alms. Are those things which you possess yours? The goods of the poor are entrusted to ^B you, whether you possess them from just labors or from paternal inheritance. For do not, because you were told to give from your own with great humanity, think that they are your own; nor make the excellence of humanity a matter of ingratitude. For could God not have taken these away? Yet he does not do so, but gives you the power to exercise liberality toward the needy. For what reason then did you not give? Do you distrust that you will receive it back? And how would this be in accordance with reason? For if He who does not owe gives, how much more will He give after He has received? For this reason God permitted you to have more than others, not so that you might spend it on fornications and drunkenness, on gluttony and the luxury of garments and other softness, but that you might disburse it to the needy. For if you spend anything beyond necessity upon yourself, you will have to give the most difficult account there. But I know that many have arrived at such a pitch of sloth that they despise the poor who are laboring under hunger, and say such things to them: "I have no servant here now; I am far from home; no one of those present is known to me." O the cruelty! O the injury! Even if it were necessary to walk ten stadia, you ought not to have been so slothful; for the reward is greater. For if you give [remotely], you receive the reward only for the gift; but if you go yourself, there is a reward proposed for this as well. For even we marvel at the patriarch Abraham for this most of all, that having three hundred and eighteen house-born servants, he commanded none of these, but he himself ran to the cattle and snatched the calf. Do not, therefore, be ashamed to care for the poor with your own hand. Christ is not ashamed to stretch out His hand and receive through the poor: and are you ashamed to stretch out your hand and give money? And how is this not worthy of shame? For if a cup of cold water alone brings about the ^C kingdom of heaven, how much, I ask, will it bring in fruit, to have provided covering, to have made one a partaker of the table, and to have refreshed the poor man? Therefore, let us not be ashamed of the care of the poor, nor let us decline to perform the offices ourselves; for our hands are sanctified through such ministry, and if we stretch them out from that care for prayer, God, seeing them, is more pacified and gives the petition. For giving money is the work of many; but to care for the needy by one's own self, and to do this with readiness and zeal, is the work of a great and wise soul. If you see someone helping you in matters pertaining to this life, or assisting in a lawsuit, or in any other such thing, you run to him and embrace him with great benevolence, and kiss his hands, and spend money, and perform the duties of a servant; but when you see Christ entering, do you feel reluctance and shrink from His service? If you do not receive the stranger as Christ, do not receive him; but if you receive him as Christ, do not be ashamed to wash the feet of Christ. But as long as the market is open, let us buy alms; or rather, let us purchase salvation for ourselves with alms. You clothe Christ when you clothe the poor. For if a cold cup has a reward, is no reward due to garments and money which are given out of liberality? Nay, a great reward is indeed due to them. For if, when the giving is done without expense, the grace of beneficence is so great, how much reward is it necessary to receive from the just Judge, where there is an abundance of garments, an expenditure of money, and a superfluity of other goods? I know that you have learned these and suchlike things frequently; but would that we practiced the good that we have frequently learned, at least rarely! For it is of great folly, when one wishes to buy a field, to seek fertile land; but when heaven is proposed instead of the earth, and it is ready to acquire the prize there, to remain on the earth and endure its labors. Tell me, I ask, if someone were to tell you that this city was going to collapse after a year, but another one was not; would you build houses in that which was to collapse? Therefore, let us not build in this world; for it will fall not long after, and will perish: and what do I say, "it will fall"? Before it falls, we pass away, and will suffer grievous and unworthy things. But let us rather build our building in heaven, where there will be no need for craftsmen or builders, but the hands of the poor build such structures; and not only this, but they also procure the heavenly kingdom and provide bold confidence before ^D God: such is the excellence of alms. And just as when a queen enters, no one of those guarding the gates dares to examine who she is, or from where, but all receive her with joy; so indeed does alms of its own accord place its performers beside the royal throne. For God loves it, and it always stands near Him, and for whatever it may ask favor, it immediately obtains. Such is the excellence of alms, that it not only blots out offenses, but even repels death itself. But who, one says, making alms has overcome death? For indeed we all see that we are placed under the empire of death. But do not be troubled; rather, learn from the very things themselves how the virtue of alms overcame the empire of this. There was a certain woman, Tabitha...

who made it her practice to gather the abundance that comes from almsgiving, and she clothed, she says, the widows, and provided them with every other necessary. Now it happened that when she fell ill, she died. What then of those who were enjoying her generosity and had their own bodies covered by her? They returned the favor to their benefactress at that moment; for standing around the Apostle, they displayed the garments and all that she used to do for them, shedding tears, and bringing him to pity thereby. ^A What then did Peter do? Having knelt, he says, he prayed, and turning to the body, he said, "Tabitha, arise." ^B And she opened her eyes and, seeing Peter, sat up; and he gave her his hand and raised her up; and having called the widows and those present, he presented her to them alive. Do you see what reward the doing of good for widows brings? For what, tell me, did she provide to the widows so great as what they returned to her? For the magnitude of almsgiving is not judged by the quantity of what is given, but in the readiness of those who give.

Truly, the feet of saints coming into a house are mighty; they sanctify the very floor, they bring in treasures of a myriad of good things, they correct a corrupted nature, they dissolve famine, and they bring in great abundance. For the feet of Elijah, entering into the house of the widow, demonstrated ^C a new and paradoxical way of doing good; they made the house of the widow a field, and the water jar a threshing floor. A new kind of sowing and reaping took place then. How? She sowed into the mouth of the just man, and she reaped what had been cast in from the water jar with much abundance; she sowed flour, and she reaped flour. It needed no oxen, no yoke, no plow, no furrow, nor rain, nor weather, nor sickle, nor threshing floor, nor sheaves, nor winds to separate the chaff from the grain, nor a mill to grind, but in a single moment of time, it found the completion of all these things in the water jar.

Such are the gifts of the saints; such are the things the feet of the saints bestow, or rather, even much more than these. And if I were not making my discourse long, I would have enumerated many such gifts. But as those who are honored bring such gifts, so those who are dishonored bring upon themselves great punishment and unquenchable fire. ^D But, he says, that was Peter, and that was Elijah, he says. What, tell me, are you saying? Even if it was Peter and Elijah, did they not partake of the same nature? Were they not brought into this life for us by the same path? Were they not nourished by the same food? Did they not use the same things? Did not some of them have wives and children, and others trades for a living, and were not others brought down into the very abyss of wickedness? "But," he says, "they enjoyed much grace." But if we were commanded to raise the dead, and to open the eyes of the blind, and to cleanse lepers and raise the lame, and to cast out demons, and to heal other such diseases, there would be a time for such an apology on our part; but if the examination is now of our way of life, and the display of obedience, and the estrangement from evils, what argument would have relevance to that?

For Christ does not give the prizes merely to those who have performed signs, but to those who have done His commands; "Come," He says, "you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; [not because you worked miracles, but because] I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in." So that even if grace has now withdrawn those things, this will not be able to harm us in any way, nor will it be able to apologize for us when we render an account of our deeds. For a righteous way of life will receive crowns even without signs; but a lawless life will not be able to escape punishment even with signs. Let us therefore pursue such virtues as may well be able to benefit our neighbors along with our own salvation. Such is almsgiving; from it, prayer and fasting and every other virtue take their strength. For if you fast, without almsgiving, even the fast is not counted as a thing, but is worse than being a glutton and a drunkard, to the extent that the cruelty of luxury is more grievous. And why do I speak of fasting? For even if you are chaste, even if you remain a virgin, you stand outside the bridal chamber if you do not have almsgiving. And yet, what is equal to virginity? Which did not even come under the law in the New Testament out of necessity because of its excellence. If, then, virgins are cast out because they do not have this [almsgiving] with the fitting abundance, who will be able, without this, to find pardon? There is no one, there is none, but it is necessary for him who does not have this to perish entirely. For if in worldly matters no one lives for himself, but craftsmen and soldiers and farmers and merchants all contribute to the common advantage and the benefit of their neighbor, much more must one do this in spiritual matters; for this is what it is most to live; as he who lives for himself alone and ignores everyone is superfluous, and is not even a man, nor of our race.

He, therefore, who desires to become rich, let him become poor, so that he may become rich; let him spend, so that he may gather; let him scatter, so that he may store up. But if these things are new and paradoxical, look at the sower and consider that not even he will be able to gather more for others, unless he scatters what he has and lets go of what is ready. For why do you not provide for those in need? "A chorus of children stands around me," he says, "and I desire to leave them rich." For what reason, then, do you make them poor? For if you leave them everything, you have entrusted all your things to an untrustworthy guard; but if you leave God as their joint-heir and guardian, you have left them a myriad-fold treasure. If, therefore, you desire to leave the children...

^A wealthy, leave behind the providence of God. For He, providing nothing of your own, having fashioned both soul and body and granted life, when He displays such great generosity toward them, how would He not open to them every wealth? For Elias, fed with a little flour, since he saw that woman preferring the guest to her own children, showed the widow’s store—the grain bin and the oil press—to his host; consider whether the Master of Elias shows ^B even greater generosity to them. Do you wish to leave your children wealthy? Leave them God as their debtor. For if they receive money, they do not even know where to put it; but if you have taken the precaution of lending it to God, the treasure remains immune, and the repayment will be made with great ease. For God feels gratitude and—when He owes and when He pays—He looks more gladly upon His creditors than upon those who have lent Him nothing; and whom He owes the most, them He also loves the most. Therefore, if you desire to have Him as a friend, constitute Him a debtor. For a creditor does not so rejoice in having debtors as God is delighted in having creditors; and those to whom He owes nothing He even avoids, but those to whom He owes, to them He even runs of His own accord. Thus, what you entrust to men, Christ stands ^C ready to receive and guard, and not only to guard, but even to increase, and to restore it to you with great interest. From His hands, no one steals. And He does not only preserve them, but for this very reason He also resolves all your dangers. Among men, indeed, those who receive deposits imagine they are showing us a kindness because they guard what they received from us; but with Christ, the opposite occurs; for He professes not to have given a benefit, but to have received one, when He takes them from you. And indeed, one who has received a deposit even demands a reward from you; but Christ even gives you a reward for this. For this reason God ordered you to give money to another, so that you might have it; for as long as you keep it alone, you do not even possess it; but if you hand it to another, then you have received it. For just as if someone gives a small silver ^D coin to a little child and tells him to hold it firmly, or to a servant and tells him to guard it diligently, so that no one may snatch it from him if he wishes: so too does God act: “Give,” He says, “to the needy, so that no one may take it from you—neither the slanderer, nor the devil, nor the thief, nor, after all these, death itself.” For as long as you yourself hold onto it, you do not possess it securely; but if you give it to Me, He says, through the poor, I guard it all for you diligently. For I do not take it in order to deprive you, but that I may return it more abundant, that I may guard it more diligently, that I may preserve it for you until that time when there is no creditor nor anyone to pity. Why do you labor in vain, O rich man, hiding the poor’s goods in your own treasuries? Why are you indignant when something is asked of you, as if you were spending your own? They desire their own ancestral goods, not what is yours; that which was entrusted to you on their account, not which was born with you. Give what you received, and make a profit on the use; it is enough for you that you are destined to give, not to receive. Why do you entrust your treasure to the earth? Give it to My hand, He says. Does the Lord of the earth not seem to you to be more trustworthy than the earth?

I have given, you say. But you must not stop doing these things; for then only will you be excused, if you have nothing, if you possess nothing; but as long as you have, even if you have given to ten thousand, and yet there are still those who are hungry, there is no excuse for you. Therefore, let the rich man not be high-minded because he gives much, nor the poor man despondent as if offering little; for frequently the latter has given more than the former. For the much and the little are not judged by the measure of what is given, but by the capacity of the substance of those who give. You, however, feed parasites and flatterers, pouring out your money just like water from springs, and you rejoice; but if you see a poor man, then the fear of poverty hangs over you. Give to the needy, and do not give to a dancer, lest together with your money you destroy his soul as well; for you are the cause of his perdition through your untimely generosity. If the dancers had known that their profession would be useless to them, they would have long ago ceased pursuing such things. The blind man, having obtained mercy, knows how to lead the way into the heavenly kingdom; and the one who stumbles against walls and falls into ditches, this one prepares the way for ascending into heaven. If you do not give alms for display before men, even if the whole world knows, no one knows, since you did not do it with this intention. For He did not say, “Do not do it before men at all,” but He added, “In order to be seen by them” (Matt. 6:1). How great is the dignity of poverty! It puts on the person of God; God is hidden in poverty; and the poor man is the one who stretches out his hand, but God is the one who receives. If anything sad happens to you, immediately give alms; give thanks that it has happened to you, and you will see how much joy will follow. For spiritual gain, even if it is small, is so great that it covers whatever bodily damage you might have. And if you do not believe, test it, and you will understand the glory of God. But O the recklessness! O the ungrateful soul! We always live in sins and wickedness; but if we do even a small bit of good, like wicked servants, we inquire with much haggling, and we search diligently concerning the retribution, whether the act itself has any reward. And yet the reward is greater if you do not do it in the hope of reward; for one ought to do all things for Christ’s sake, and not for the hope of a reward. For if the God who made us from the beginning, when no good preceded us, has continuously granted us so much—what will He not grant us after so many and such great labors have been performed, and after we have suffered for His sake? And we, for our own sakes, begrudge even a small amount of gold; He, however, even gave His own Son for us. And for the sake of human friendship, we do not refuse to undergo many dangers; but for the love of God, do we not even cast aside our money? And how is it not unworthy, that while Christ has even laid down His soul for us, and poured out His precious blood on our behalf—we who were neither lovers of Him nor good—we do not even pour out money for His sake, but despise the one who is naked and a stranger, who died for us? And who, then, will snatch us from the future punishment? For if it were not God, but we ourselves were to punish us, would we not have passed judgment against ourselves? Would we not have condemned ourselves to the fire of Gehenna, despising as he wastes away in hunger the One who laid down His soul for us? And why do I speak of money? If we had even ten thousand souls, would it not be necessary to lay down them all for Him? If one of us were being led to death, and it were proposed to him that he would be free if he would cast away all his wealth, he would surely consider this a great kindness; yet now, when we are being led to Gehenna, and it is possible to escape by giving even half, we choose rather to undergo punishments and rashly retain our own, that we might lose our very selves? And what excuse, what forgiveness will we have, we who deprive ourselves of the goods of both this life and the next, when it was possible to enjoy both securely? If for the sake of secular dignity one often gives his entire substance—for the sake of dignity, I say, which is to remain here...

and not even here does it persist for a long time; for many, even long before their death, have been stripped of this rank, and others because of it have often lost their very life; yet despite knowing these things, people move heaven and earth for its sake—if then they do so much for this, what will become of us, who possess nothing, who do not even bestow those things which, a little later, we shall leave behind here against our will? What manner of madness would it not be, if having things which we shall be deprived of against our will, we do not wish to give them ^A when we have the opportunity, and to take them with us? But we fasten golden necklaces on our servants and mules and horses, while we look dismissively upon the Lord as He passes by, homeless, extending his hand, and often we look at Him with a cruel eye. What could be worse than this madness? For when God sends the poor to us, commanding them to give from His own, we, besides not giving, even send them away insulted. Consider how many thunderbolts, how many ^B avenging fires a deed like this deserves. For if a servant of yours, when ordered to go to another servant who has money of yours and to take it, returned not only with empty hands, but also insulted, what would you not do to the one who had thus acted? How great a penalty would you not demand, since you yourself would be the one insulted? And if this is so among men, how much more so before the Lord of both men and all things? If you do not wish to give anything to the poor man who asks, why do you also strike his soul by reviling him? For if he had expected to hear such things, would he have approached you? "But he is shameless," you say, "and runs up and shouts." What are you saying? How often, when a meal has been set, have you called the serving slave, and because he walked a bit ^C more slowly, upset everything for the sake of a small delay, even though you knew very well that, if not immediately, yet a little later you would enjoy the pleasure? And yet you do not call yourself shameless for being enraged over nothing; but do you call the poor man—who is fearful and trembling for greater [reasons], for all his fear is not about a delay, but about hunger—this man you call reckless and shameless? And how is this not the height of shamelessness? If, when you see some small drop falling from the roof, you call servants and craftsmen and upset the whole house; how do you look dismissively upon the poor man lying in rags, straw, and filth, ^D enduring all the freezing cold? What beast would not be broken by such things? Who is so cruel and inhuman as not to become gentle toward them? But there are some who have reached such a point of harshness that not only do they not show mercy and weep and share in the calamities, but they often also insult [them] and say that they deserve to suffer these things. For what reason, tell me, do they deserve to suffer, because they wish to be fed and not die of hunger? "No," he says, "but because they are idle." But do you not indulge in luxury while idle? Do you not often perform a "work" worse than any idleness, by snatching and using violence and overreaching? It would have been better if you were idle in such a way; for it is far better to be idle in that way than to overreach and snatch. When, therefore, you see a poor man and say, "I am choked [with rage] because he is a young man, so healthy, and having nothing, he wishes to be fed while being idle"—say these things to yourself; or rather, give him the power to say them to you: "I am choked because you are healthy and are idle [in your duty], and you do not perform any of the things that God has commanded." And you, indeed, reproach him for idleness, but he [has cause to reproach you] even for wicked works, because you snatch and overreach and destroy the houses of others. "But he is lying," you say, "and much is fabricated." But even for that reason he is worthy of pity, that he has fallen into such necessity as even to behave so shamelessly. We, however, not only do not pity him, but we also add those cruel words, saying, "Did he not receive once or twice?" What then? Is he not to be fed again, because he was fed once? Why do you not apply these same laws to your own stomach, and say to it, "You were filled yesterday, do not seek it now"? But that one you burst even beyond measure, and this one, even when asking for what is moderate, you turn away—and do you wish to be heard when you pray for yourself? For how shall he who has looked dismissively upon the one being pressed, and has not given from his own, seek to receive from what is not his? Are these things not worthy of condemnation, that we do not consider it a loss to be feeding parasites and flatterers, but if we see a poor man approaching, being consumed by hunger and cold, we not only look dismissively upon him, but we also immediately trample upon him? "For why," he says, "does he not work; and why is he fed while idle?" But are you working [for what] you have? Is it not because you received a paternal inheritance? And if you do work, is it for this reason that you reproach another? "But he is an impostor." What are you saying? For the sake of some bread and a cloak do you call him an impostor? "But," he says, "he immediately sells it." And you, do you manage all your own things well? What then? Do all become poor from idleness? Does no one from shipwreck? No one from law-courts? No one from theft? No one from disease? No one from dangers? No one from some other circumstance? But if we hear someone lamenting such things, and shouting loudly, and looking up at heaven while naked, we immediately call him an impostor, a deceiver, a hypocrite. Are you not ashamed to call someone an impostor? Give nothing, and do not accuse the poor man. "But he has [means], and is putting on an act." This is your accusation, not his; he knows [that] when he has [these]

...

to invent something ^A more pitiable, so that he may move your soul. O what cruelty! O what inhumanity! If we see a man free-born and of noble standing coming forward in such a state, he is a beggar, he says—and that he may seem to be of noble descent, he approaches in this way—if we see [someone] naked and in rags, we turn our backs on him. O, what 594 impudence of this beastliness! "If you wish, give; if you do not wish, send him away." Why, you wretch and most miserable man, do you also turn away those who wish to give? For when such a person hears from you that he is a deceiver, he becomes a judge, and he will not give to any of these, for he will suspect that all are such. And for what reason, he says, does he strip his mutilated limbs? So that he may be begging for alms. But if we were merciful, he would not have devised so many things from any of these trades or from his first approach. Who is so miserable that he would desire to lament publicly with his wife and children all stripped naked? And are these things not worse than poverty? And yet they are not only not pitied, but they are even accused by us of being shameless. And you, while you are seizing others' goods, are not shameless, but that man, being in need of bread, will be judged shameless? "Give to everyone who asks of you, and do not turn away him who wants to borrow from you" (Matt. 5:42). For how is it not absurd that you, while gluttonizing and stuffing yourself, and dragging out your drinking until late in the deep evening, and spending your life wrapped in soft blankets, should despise the poor man who is naked, trembling, and starving? And what do I say of nakedness and trembling, when some have even been forced to blind children of tender age, so that they might strike at our numbness? For since they were seen, and wandering about naked, they did not attract the cruel—neither because of their age, nor because of their misery—they added to such evils another, more grievous tragedy, so that they might solve their hunger; judging it more tolerable to be deprived of this common light and the ray of the sun granted to all, than to struggle with perpetual hunger and sustain the most miserable death.

Verily, man is a great and precious thing, a merciful man. For it is almsgiving when it is done with readiness, when [it is done] liberally, when you think that you are not giving but receiving, when you are as one receiving a benefit, as one earning and not losing, for this would not be a benefit if it were not so. For he who has mercy on another ought to rejoice and not be aggrieved in the least. For how is it not absurd, if you yourself are saddened while relieving another's sadness? For if you are distressed in your soul because you have liberated another from grief, you bring forward a token of the utmost cruelty and inhumanity; for it is better not to liberate than to liberate in this way. But why are you even grieved at all, O man? Lest your money be diminished? Clearly, if you have this kind of mind, do not even give; if you do not trust that it will be multiplied for you in the heavens, do not offer it. Or perhaps you desire the retribution in this life? And why this? Let almsgiving be almsgiving, and not a trade. Indeed, many have received here, but they have not received in such a way that on this account they had more than those who did not receive. But those who seek and receive here, diminish their reward there. Let us not, therefore, say that this one is wicked and unworthy of a benefit, and another is base and cast off. Do not look at the dignity of the one in need, but only at the necessity. For even if he is base and cast off, even if he is despised, thus does Christ impute the reward to you, as if He Himself were affected by the benefit through him. Peter and John were going up at one time to the temple to pray; and behold, a man lame from his mother's womb was being carried, and was lying at the gate of the temple: and when he saw them entering, he looked at them, hoping to receive alms from them (Acts 3:1-3). What then did Peter do? "Look at us," he says (Ibid. v. 4); you have a sufficient indication of poverty from our look: there is no need for words or for an answer: the clothing shows the poor man. What then? Is this the whole duty of the apostolic office regarding the needy, that he does not relieve the poverty, ^B that he says to you: "Silver and gold have I none"? Wait a little, and you will see greater riches. "Silver and gold," he says, "I do not have; but what I have, this I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ, arise and walk" (Ibid. v. 6). Have you seen the lack of money and the wealth of graces? See, furthermore, his kindness: "Look at us," he says. He did not affect him with insults, he did not revile him, he did not turn him away—which we frequently do with those who approach us—demanding accounts from them, sending them off to some work, objecting that they are sleeping. Were you, O man, taught this? You were not commanded to object to their leisure, or to accuse [their] vice, nor to upbraid them for sloth, but to relieve poverty, and to cure misery, and to reach out a hand to those who are down. Do not, therefore, curiously search into their life and actions when you are about to give alms; for this is of the utmost ineptitude, to search through an entire life for the sake of one bread. For even if he is a murderer, even if he is a thief, even if that beggar is just anything at all, does he seem to you for that reason unworthy of a few coins? But your Lord makes His sun to rise upon him; yet you judge him unworthy of daily food? Are you ignorant that for this reason Abraham is especially held in greater admiration, because, not knowing who they were who had come to him, yet upon seeing them, he leaped up and hastened to meet them, and bowing down to the earth, said: "Lord, if I have found grace in your sight, do not pass by your servant" (Gen. 18:3)? Do not, therefore, you also anxiously inquire; for you receive [them] for Christ's sake; for if you always wish to search curiously, you will often pass by even a good man, and will lose the reward you would have had from this. Nor let us have care only for those of the household of faith, but neglect others; but if we see someone being hard pressed by evils, let us inquire nothing else: for the fact that he is suffering evils gives him a right to help. But I do not know where this custom has gained strength: when we see a secular person placed in calamity, we do not reach out a hand; but towards those who dwell in the mountains, we show our zeal. Whether you see a Greek, or a Jew, or any other person in misery, it is necessary to do good to him. Indeed, if you inquire into only the monks, and desire to do good to them alone, and again search curiously into them—whether he is worthy, whether he is righteous, whether he performs signs—and do not reach out a hand, you have stolen the profit of almsgiving; and this you will take away for a second time because of the time itself. For if you raise up an ass when you see him being choked, and do not make much inquiry as to whose it is; much less is it fitting for you to anxiously inquire into a man, who he is, whether he be Greek, even if he be a Jew; but only if he is in need of help. For if you saw him abounding in goods or celebrated by name, you would rightly say these things; but when you see him afflicted by evils, do not say that he is evil and wicked: for this is a proof of cruelty, and of inhumanity, and of the greatest arrogance. Therefore almsgiving is called mercy, so that we may bestow it upon both the worthy and the unworthy. For if we curiously inquire and solicitously search into the unworthy, not even the worthy will ever easily present themselves to us; but if we give even to the unworthy, the worthy—and those who are to be equated with all of them—will altogether come to our hands.

^A For if we intend to seek out the worthiness of our fellow servants and to be precise, ^B God will do this concerning us; and while seeking to demand accounts from our fellow servants, we ourselves shall fall from the mercy above. For one who shows kindness ought not to demand accounts of life, but to correct poverty and fulfill need. ^C Therefore, when you see a beggar, do not run past, but immediately reflect upon what you would be, if you were he; reflect that he is a free man, equal to you, and of the same fellowship as you, and possesses everything in common with you, and often you do not make him even the equal of your dogs; but while they are sated, this man frequently has slept hungry, and the free man among your servants has become less honored. But they fulfill your need and serve you well? I will show that even this man fulfills a need for you much greater than theirs; for he will stand at your side in the day of judgment, and will deliver you from the fire. What can your slaves do that is like this? When Tabitha died, who raised her? The servants standing around, or the poor? Yet you do not even wish to make the free man of your servants your equal, he who is able to bend you toward mercy by his mere appearance and aspect? And how do you expect God to deliver you when you are in distress, if you pay no heed to him who has sinned nothing against you, but who is suffering, lamenting, and being tortured by hunger and cold? How will He allow you, who have sinned against Him, to go unpunished? For he who stops his ears, he says, so as not to hear the beggar, God will not hear his prayer (Prov. 21. 13). Let us therefore be such toward our fellow servants as we wish the Master to be toward us. ^D Almsgiving is a sacrifice greater than prayer and fasting and many other things, provided only that it is done from just gain and such labors, and is pure from all greed and rapine and violence. For God accepts such offerings; but the others He turns away and hates. For He does not wish to be honored from the calamities of others; for such a sacrifice is unclean and profane, and would provoke God rather than appease Him. For almsgiving is so named because we are to show mercy, not to punish our fellow servants. ^A He who takes the property of others and gives it to another has not shown mercy, but has rather punished, and has committed injustice of no small kind. He who wishes to be rich needs money; he who does not wish to be rich is always in abundance. For it is not being wealthy, but not wishing to be wealthy, that is riches. What do I mean? There is a rich man who plunders the property of all; and there is a rich man who provides his own to the poor: the one becomes rich in gathering, the other in spending; and the one sows the earth, the other cultivates heaven. But by as much as heaven is better than earth, by so much is the abundance of the latter stronger than that of the former. ^B And the amazing thing is that in the case of the plunderer, not only do the wronged, but even those who have suffered no harm, hate him, sharing the grief of those who have suffered ill. And if he falls, there are myriad cries from everyone: "Vile man, the altogether wicked one!" and everyone tramples upon him. But in the case of the merciful man, not only those who have received mercy, but even those who have not received it love him, counting the kindness done to others as done to themselves. And if he suffers anything unpleasant, everyone prays: "May God show him mercy; may He do him good; may blessings remain with him." Do you see how wickedness has as enemies even those who have not been wronged, while almsgiving has as lovers even those who have not received alms? ^C Therefore, first be delivered from plundering, and then show almsgiving; stay your hands from greed, and thus lead them to almsgiving. But if we strip the poor with those same hands, even if we clothe them with what is given from those takings, still we shall not escape punishment; for the premise of expiation becomes a premise of every transgression; for not to show mercy is better than to show mercy in such a way. ^D For if Cain, by bringing the lesser, provoked God, how will he who gives the property of others not provoke Him? Almsgiving is a most excellent art and a protectress of those who practice it; for it is dear to God, if it is not wronged by us; and it is wronged when we practice it from plunder; whereas if it is pure, it grants great boldness to those who offer it, and intercedes for those who have offended. For such is its power; it breaks chains, dissolves darkness, extinguishes fire, and makes those who practice it such as God. For be, He says, merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful (Luc. 6. 36). Let us not, therefore, squander the opportunity of the present life, but let us hold firmly to our salvation. For it is possible, it is indeed possible, even at our last breath to be pleasing to God; it is possible to be approved even by one's testament—not perhaps as those who are living, but it is possible nonetheless. How and in what manner? If you write God into your testament along with your heirs, and assign Him a share and portion of the whole estate. Did you not feed Him while living? Even upon departing, when you are no longer master, share yours with Him. For to feed Him while you are alive is of greater desire and greater reward; but if you have not done this for Him, come at least to the second; but if you shrink even from this, reflect that His Father has made you His co-heir, and put an end to your inhumanity. For what pardon will you obtain, when, toward Him, from those very possessions—of which you are not master anymore when you are about to depart, in addition to not having fed Him while living—you are unwilling to grant Him even a little, to share with Him your useless things? Are you so hostilely and inimically disposed, that you do not even see how many human beings have not been deemed worthy of even this end, but have been snatched away and departed? Yet God has made you master to instruct your relatives, and to speak concerning your possessions, and to arrange everything concerning your house. What defense, therefore, will you have, when, having received even this grace from Him, you betray the kindness, and not even 598 under necessity are you led to become a philanthropist? For while the alternative is better and grants much boldness—to correct poverty while living—if you are unwilling to do that, do something at least as you are ending your life. For if you will not have the primacy, it is not of great love, yet it is so nonetheless. Even if you will not be among the first, at least to follow, and not to be with the goats. What if you do not do even this, what will save you? When

even while you were living, just as if you were immortal, you clung to your goods; but now, after you have learned that you are mortal, at least now dismiss that opinion of yours, and as a mortal, make your arrangements regarding your property. For although that which is about to be said is grievous and full of horror, nevertheless it is necessary to speak: count the Lord among your servants. Do you grant freedom to slaves? Free Christ from hunger and need and prisons and nakedness. Did you shudder at hearing this? It is much more horrifying if you do not do it. And here, indeed, the word made you numb; but when you depart yonder, and hear things far more grievous than these, and see the most cruel punishments, what will you say? To whom will you flee? Whom will you call upon as helper and advocate? Will you call upon Abraham? But he will not listen. Or perhaps your father? Or your grandfather? Yet neither will any of these have the power, even if he be exceedingly holy, to relax that sentence. But are you inhuman, and cruel, and unmerciful? Revere the dignity of the one who asks. But is his dignity not enough to appease you? Then be swayed by his calamity. But neither does calamity move you to mercy? Give because of the ease of the petition. But if neither his dignity, nor the necessity of the matter, nor the ease of giving can persuade you, then at least give to the needy because of the greatness of the promised good things. For what pardon will there be for those who, after such exhortation, despise the needy? Let those who are initiated into the mysteries listen: when you are to be fed, He does not even spare His own flesh; when you must be given to drink, He does not spare even His own blood; and do you not impart even bread, nor a cup? And what pardon will you have, receiving such things, and yet sparing your paltry goods so exceedingly? For you will not depart taking them with you if you do not spend your money for Christ’s sake; nor, if you do not die for Christ’s sake, will you be immortal. He asks these things of you, things which you would give even if He did not ask, because you are mortal: He wishes you to do of your own free will those things which you must do by necessity. May you be willing to suffer for my sake those things which it is altogether necessary to endure: let this one intention be set forth, and I have sufficient obedience. Are these things tolerable, that God for your sake has even delivered up His own Son, but you do not share even bread with Him, who was delivered up for you, who was slain for you? For your sake the Father did not spare Him, and that when He was His true Son: but do you neglect Him as He is wasting away with famine, and that when it is your duty to expend from His own goods, and to pay out for your own sake? And what could be worse than this iniquity? He was delivered up for your sake, He goes about hungry for your sake, you give from His own goods so that you might receive the benefit, and even so you do not give? And from what stones would you not be more stupid if, with ^B so many things drawing you, you persist in that diabolical cruelty? For if you do not pay back to me, He says, as to one having suffered something for you, show mercy because of my indigence: if, however, you do not wish to show mercy because of indigence, then be swayed because of his sickness, be softened because of his chains: but if neither these things make you human, then at least yield because of the ease of the request; for He asks for nothing precious, but bread and shelter and the consolation of words. But if after all these things you continue to be harsh, at least be kinder for the sake of the kingdom. Yet do you not have regard even for that? Be swayed at least by nature itself, seeing me naked; and remember that nakedness with which I was stripped for you upon the cross. But if you do not wish [to remember] that, at least remember this, what I suffer in the poor. I do not say, "Take away my poverty"; nor, "Give me riches"; but I ask for bread and clothing, and a small solace for hunger. Even if I fall into prison, I do not compel you to loose the chains and strike them off; but I ask for one thing only, that you look upon me as bound for your sake, and I shall have received a grace great enough. For I am able to crown you even without these things; but I wished to be your debtor, so that the crown might bring you some fruit and confidence. Therefore it is also that, although I am able to nourish myself, I go about begging, and standing at your doors I stretch out my hand, asking to be nourished by you. And in this matter I am pleased, because in the spectacle of the whole world I proclaim you, and with all listening, I show you as my nourisher. And you, indeed, if you are nourished by someone, you are ashamed of this, and you hide it: but I, because I love you vehemently, even if you are silent, I pronounce the deed publicly with much praise; nor am I ashamed to say that you clothed me when I was naked, that you fed me when I was hungry, but I rather glory in this, so that you may be made heirs of the heavenly kingdom. Thinking these things, therefore, dearly beloved, let us zealously apply ourselves to our salvation, that we may attain also to the eternal good things, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XXIV. Concerning Sin and Confession.

Has any one of you ever traveled in Palestine? I truly think so. What, then? Give your testimony, you who have seen those places. There is a great and fertile region there; or rather, it was, for now it is no longer: that region, therefore, once so flourishing, and competing with all regions, and surpassing the paradise of God in abundance, is more desolate than all solitudes. And the trees indeed still stand and have fruit, but the fruit is a certain warning of divine wrath: the pomegranates stand, and the fruit of the trees is elegant in appearance, and to one who knows nothing, it shows great hopes; but if they are taken into the hands, [they are] broken, and in those things which are hidden within, they show no fruit at all, but much dust. Of such a kind is that whole land; and the wood and the stones, the air also and the water have come under the portion of such a calamity. And it is possible to see land, but having nothing of land; trees and fruits, ^C yet nothing of trees and fruits, but all things ash; air and water, but nothing of true air and water. For indeed these too have been reduced to ashes by the power of Him who made them. For just as when some body is burned, the figure and form indeed remain in the sight of the fire, but the strength does not: in the same way with those things. Are these the threats of words? Are these the clamor of words?

But these things are burdensome, while those are not burdensome when you say that there is no Gehenna? You compel me to say these things, you who are faithless; you have brought me into these arguments; for if you had believed the words of Christ, I would not have been compelled to bring forward the knowledge derived from actual events. But will He who pours out such great wrath for a single sin, and feels no pity upon the intercession of Abraham, nor that of Lot, have mercy upon us, when so many sins have been committed by us? This is truly laughter, and nonsense, and diabolical deception and fraud. But if you wish to see even those who believe and pay heed to God, but whose life is not upright, being punished, hear Paul saying: *Let us not be fornicators, as some of them were fornicators, and fell in one day twenty-three thousand* (1 Cor. 10:8). And if fornication had such power, what will our own sins not do? And if you do not pay the penalty now, do not marvel. For they did not know of Gehenna, and so they were punished with penalties close at hand; but you, whatever you sin, even if you pay no penalty here, will pay for everything there. For even if we commit the same sins as them, we are worthy of greater punishment than they. For what reason? Because we have enjoyed greater grace. But when we sin in ways greater and more numerous than theirs, what punishment shall we not undergo? For if, while sinning and remaining unpunished, we did not become worse, God might have forgiven us the punishment; but He knows this clearly, that remaining unpunished while sinning harms us no less than the sins themselves. For this reason He imposes punishment, not only to exact penalty for what has passed, but also correcting us toward the future. And that this is true, hear what He says to Moses: *Leave me alone, and in my wrath I will blot them out* (Exod. 32:10). *Leave me alone*, He said, not that Moses was holding Him back; for he spoke nothing to Him, but stood by in silence; but He wished to give him a pretext for intercession on their behalf. This we also frequently do; and when servants have committed faults worthy of punishment, not wishing either to punish [them] or to release them from the fear of punishment, we command friends to tear them from our hands, so that the fear might remain vigorous in them, and yet they might escape the blows from us. ^A Such is the case that can be seen having happened in the matter of Jonah. For, it says, *The word of the Lord came to Jonah the prophet, saying, Arise and go to Nineveh, the great city, and preach in it: Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown* (Jon. 1:1-3). But Jonah, having heard, went down to Joppa to flee from the presence of the Lord. Where are you fleeing, O man? Are you fleeing from the Master, tell me? Wait then a little, and you shall learn through the events themselves that you will not be able to escape the hands of even the servant-sea. For he had not even stepped onto the ship, and it stood up the waves, and it rose to a great height. And just as some grateful maidservant, having found a fellow servant in flight, who has stolen some of the master's property, does not stop [her] constant ^B trouble-making for those who have taken him in, until she has taken him and departed; so truly also the sea, having found its fellow servant and recognized him, bestows countless troubles upon the sailors, tossing, roaring, not dragging them to a tribunal, but threatening to sink the vessel, men and crew alike, if they did not return its fellow servant to it. As these things were happening, they made, it says, *a throwing out of the baggage* (Jon. 1:5); but the ship was not lightened; for the whole cargo still remained inside, the prophet's body, ^C that heavy burden, not because of the nature of the body, but because of the weight of the sin. For nothing is so heavy and burdensome as sin and disobedience. And just as in a court of law, with accusers present and witnesses standing by, and examinations taking place, judges do not deliver the verdict until the defendant himself becomes the accuser of his own sin; so truly it is possible to see this in the case of the sailors and the prophet. For they cast, it says, *a lot* (ibid. v. 7); and the lot thereafter delivered up the responsible party to the verdict. But they, even after taking him, did not sink him, but with such great noise and disturbance pressing [upon them], and the sea *permitting* them not even to breathe, but rather raging and crying out and inciting constant waves, as if enjoying great quiet, ^D so truly having established a court in the ship, they granted him a hearing and deemed him worthy of a defense, and examined everything with accuracy, just as if they were about to provide accounts for whatever they might vote; and not even with the sea crying out, nor the lot having testified against him, nor his having confessed the sin himself, do they bring the verdict. From where, then, did such providence come? From the economy of God. For God was allowing these things to happen, instructing the prophet through them to be humane and gentle, and all but shouting to him and saying: Imitate the sailors, men who are barbarous and senseless; for they do not despise even one soul, nor do they spare one body of yours; but you have handed over a whole city, having so many myriads, as far as it depended on you; and they, having found the person responsible for the evils that had happened to them, even so do not rush to the condemning verdict; but you, having nothing to charge against the Ninevites, have sunk and destroyed them. But most of mankind become advocates of their own sins, but accusers of the sins of others. And many frequently say that the state of affairs and of the *politeia* is in a bad way, and say that the cause comes from the imprudence of those in power; but I say that it is not the imprudence of the rulers, but our sin that has turned things upside down, that has brought in all these terrible things; from no other source has the swarm of afflictions poured over us. So that even 602 if someone like Abraham is the ruler, or Moses, or David, or Solomon the most wise, or [even if we are ruled by] the most sinful of all men, while we are poorly disposed, he holds an indifferent cause in relation to the evils. For [the fact of] receiving rulers according to our hearts is nothing other [than the fact] that we had already sinned, and for this reason we obtained such a person as is in charge. But if he is exceedingly just, and so just as to have reached the virtue of Moses, his justice alone will not be able to [remedy] the unmeasured [sins] of those under him.

Rather, if you wish, I will show you how even the sin of one man often strikes at those who are living righteously, ^B and does so with boldness. Jesus, the son of Nave, once approached Jericho, and while conducting that strange blockade, when the walls were already on the verge of collapsing, he said to the people: "The city shall be an anathema to the Lord Sabaoth. So beware of the anathema, lest you take anything of it, and the Lord destroys us" (Jos. 6:17-18). What, then, after this? The walls fell down, and the whole city came into the hands of the besiegers. Since, therefore, not the whole people was observing this command, the transgression of one man aroused God's wrath against the whole multitude. "For," it says, "the sons of Israel committed a great sin" (Jos. 7:1). And yet there was one who had sinned—Achar, that is. How, then, did the sons of Israel sin? "And the Lord," it says, "was angry with the sons of Israel." And Jesus sent men from Jericho to Hai. "And they went up about three thousand men; and they fled before the men of Hai, and they killed of them thirty-six men" (Jos. 7:2, 4-5). See the retribution for one sin, see the irreparable blow: one man sinned, and death and panic fell upon the whole people. What then is this, O lover of good, Master? You alone are just, and ^C your judgments are straight; you assign to each his judgment according to his own works: you, lover of mankind, said that each man would die in his own sin, and that one would not pay the penalty for another. What then is this just decree of yours? All your works, Lord, are good, and exceedingly good, and are ordered for our advantage; why then did you bring the punishment upon others for another's sin? "Sin," he says, "is a kind of rot; let it be purged by punishment for everyone, lest it corrupt all." Do you see how the sin of one provided punishment for the entire people? See further also [the] shameful and heavy death. "And Jesus took him," it says, "to the valley of Achor, and his sons, and his daughters, and his calves, and his beasts of burden, and his sheep, and his tent, and all that was his; and all Israel stoned them with stones" (Jos. 7:24-25). Do not, therefore, let us be confident if God is insulted and bears it patiently, but for this very reason let us be the more anxious. For even among men, when someone is struck on the right cheek and offers the left, he strikes back more fiercely than if he had dealt infinite blows; and when someone is insulted, if he not only does not insult in return but even blesses, he has struck more heavily than if he had assailed the other with countless reproaches and curses. How much more, then, before God ought those who constantly sin ^D and suffer nothing evil to fear? For an immense punishment is being reserved for them as an evil on their own heads. For it is not an evil for the sinner to be punished, but for one who is in such a state not to be punished; just as if a sick man were to have no remedies applied to him. For if our good deeds are few and cheap, but the mass of our sins is great; then, if we should enjoy prosperity in this life and suffer nothing evil, we shall depart from here entirely empty and stripped of the reward of good things, as having received our all here; just as, if our good deeds were great and many, but our sins few and light; and then we suffered some evil, and deposited those small offenses here, we shall receive a pure and perfect repayment of good things there. Let us not, therefore, consider it a burden that we are punished for our sins, but rather if we are not punished. For even if God did not punish us, we ought ourselves to exact the penalty from ourselves, we who have been so ungrateful toward our benefactor. I will say something strange and wonderful: there is greater consolation for someone who, after having provoked such a benevolent God to anger, is punished—if he is wise and loves the Master as is fitting—than for one who is not corrected. For he who has acted injuriously toward one he loves most of all is then most refreshed if he exacts the penalty from himself and is caused some suffering. Do you not see those who have lost their children, how they lament and tear their hair for this very reason, because there is no small amount of solace in punishing oneself on behalf of those one loves? If, therefore, when we have inflicted no evil even on those we love most, it brings us solace to endure grief because of what they have suffered, how much more will it refresh us if, when we have provoked them to anger and treated them with injury, we pay the penalties and are chastened by punishment? It is manifest to anyone. For those who love, however much they love, it is by no means irksome to suffer some evil because they have irritated the one they love, but that is the thing above all else: that they have irritated the beloved. And if the other, being angry, did not punish, he would torment the lover the more; if, indeed, he demands the penalty, he will be more solaced. If someone loves Christ as one ought to love, even if he were to forgive, he would not allow himself to remain unpunished; for he who has provoked him to anger undergoes the greatest punishment. For there is no one—no one, I say, neither father nor mother nor friend, nor whoever else—who has loved us so much as God, who made us. But if you call to mind the ailments of the soul and the sorrows and miseries of life, consider how much you offend him every day, and you will no longer marvel even if more evils than these should come upon you; but if you should enjoy even some good, then both marvel and be struck with awe. But now we see indeed the calamities that are pressing upon us, but we do not see the offenses by which we offend day by day, and therefore we are basely deluded. Therefore, if we were to ponder our sins diligently even for one day, we would recognize well how many evils we were responsible for. Because of this, however, the chief evils have crept in, because the due correction is not applied to lesser ones; hence the preposterous changes and lapses; hence the continuous and premature deaths, because we are disposed in our minds as if we had already occupied heaven beforehand; and as if we were never to die, we plunder and covet the property of others, as if we would never have to render an account; and neither the word of God nor the things themselves correct us, but all is in vain, and nothing penetrates our hardness. No one despises earthly things, no one lifts his eyes to heaven; but as pigs look downward, inclined toward their bellies, and wallowing in the mire, so do most of men, burying themselves in pernicious mire, have no perception of it. For it would be better for them to be contaminated by the foulest mud than by sins. For he who is defiled by the former will be able in a short time to wash it off and become like one who never fell into that mire, but he who has fallen into the abyss of sin has received a defilement that is not cleansed by water, but requires a long time and exact repentance, and likewise tears and lamentation, and more abundant and more fervent weeping than we show for our dead, who are most dear to us. Who...

^A For as it is of no benefit to a king to be clothed in the purple and to possess arms, while yet he has no subject, but is exposed to all who wish to insult and treat him with injury; so also for a Christian there will be no gain, if he possesses faith and the gift from baptism, but makes himself a plaything for all the passions: but just as that man not only will gain nothing from that robe for his own honor, but will even bring reproach upon it through his own shame; so also the believer, living a corrupted life, will not only not be respected for it, but will be even more ridiculous. Let us not, therefore, bring shame upon our life, nor live a life worthy of ^B mockery; nor let us defile our body with fornication. For how will you be able to enter the church after your association with harlots? How will you lift up your hands to heaven, with which you embraced the harlot? How will you move your tongue, and with that mouth pray, with which you kissed the harlot? With what eyes will you behold the more respectable of your friends who look upon this? And why do I speak of friends? Even if there is no one who is cognizant of this, you will be compelled to blush and be ashamed before all, and to loathe your own body more than anyone else. For if this were not so, why do you run to the bath after that sin? Is it not because you think you are more unclean than any mire? What kind of sentence, therefore, do you expect God to pass, when you yourself, having erred, have such an opinion concerning what has been done? ^C If indeed the defilement were bodily, you would rightly cleanse yourself in the baths; but since you have defiled your soul and made it altogether unclean, seek such a cleansing as will be able to wipe away its stain: for if we do not do this, even if we walk through all the springs of the rivers, we shall be able to remove no small portion of this sin. If any servant had deposited into a chest, where the master's garments were laid up, a servant's garment full of filth and many lice, tell me, would you have borne his grace lightly? And what if, into a vessel of gold which was accustomed to contain perfumes, one had poured dung and mire, would you not have even laid stripes upon the one who had so erred? Then do we take such great care of chests, and vessels, and garments, ^D and yet think our soul to be of less value than all these? And where the spiritual perfume has been poured out, shall we cast in diabolic processions, and satanic utterances and songs full of fornication? And how will God bear these things, tell me? For when you are dissipated by the spectacle there, and become an enemy to all temperance, and returning you see your wife, you will surely look upon her in a more hateful way, whatever she may be; for having been captured by the wanton spectacle, you dishonor the temperate and modest woman who is your partner in all of life, you envelop her in ten thousand reproaches; while you are agape for that foul and unclean desire, from which you received the wound, and having the echo of the voice settled in your soul, and the form, and the gaze, and the movements, and all the idols of fornication, nothing henceforth of those in your house gives you pleasure. For just as those who are possessed by heaviness of head and drunkenness are carried about simply and at random, and even if there is a chasm and a precipice, or whatever else may be lying in the way, they fall down unguarded; so also those who have rushed into sin, being possessed like a terrible drunkenness by the desire for sin, do not know what they are doing, nor do they foresee anything ofpresent or future things. For such is the nature of sin: after it is done and completely finished, then it arouses pains in the soul that gave birth to it, contrary to the laws of our own birth. For we, as soon as we are born, put an end to the birth-pangs, but sin, as soon as it is born, tears with pains the reason which brought it to birth. For in the doing of the sin we are drunk with pleasure and do not perceive it in this way; but when it has been completed and has reached its end, then indeed, when all the pleasure has been extinguished, the bitter sting of repentance enters: and in the happening of the sin, and before it happens, and after it has happened, our conscience stands over us as a vehement accuser. Such is the habit of those who sin: they suspect everything, they tremble at shadows, they fear every sound, and they think every one is walking toward them; for they have often seen many running on some other business, and thought they were coming against them. And when others are talking to one another, those who are conscious of sin in themselves imagine that they are talking about them. For such is sin: it betrays the conscience to no one else, it condemns without anyone accusing, and makes the one who has sinned fearful and cowardly; just as justice, on the contrary, does. Hear also the cowardice of this one, and the boldness of the just: *The ungodly fleeth*, he says, *when no one is pursuing* (Prov. 28:1). How does he flee when no one is pursuing? He has the one driving him within, the accuser of the conscience, and he carries this about everywhere; and just as he could not flee from himself, so neither can he from the one who is chastening him within. But not so the just man, but how? *The just man is confident as a lion.* Such was Elias: he saw the king coming toward him, and when he said, *Why do you divert Israel?* *I will not divert*, he says, *but you and the house of your father* (3 Reg. 18:17). Truly, the just man is confident as a lion. For just as a lion stands up against some wretched little dog, so he stood up against the king. And yet that man had a purple robe; but this man had a sheepskin more venerable than that purple robe. For that purple robe brought forth the grievous famine; but this sheepskin dissolved the dire things, this split the Jordan, this made Elisha a double Elias (4 Reg. 2). That, therefore, they think themselves to be unclean who are wallowing in fornication, I greatly praise and approve; but that they do not come to the proper way of cleansing, for this I accuse and blame them. The better way, therefore, is not even to take a test of this foul sin; but if by chance anyone should be tripped up at any time, let him apply such remedies beforehand, so as not to fall into the desire again, which have the power to wash away sin: for if we condemn those who have already committed sins, and then again cast our soul into the same, no expiations will benefit us. For he who is washed, and again wallows in the same mire; he who again destroys what...

he has built, and builds it again only to destroy it, gains nothing beyond useless labor and affliction. ^A For if we sin every day and strike our soul, and yet never perceive it—like those who receive continuous wounds and then despise them, bringing upon themselves fevers and death—in this way we also, through this constant insensibility, bring upon ourselves unavoidable punishment. For nothing so destroys a man as having abandoned the fear of God, just as nothing so preserves him as to look continuously toward Him. For if, when we see a man before our eyes, we become more hesitant to commit sins, and feel more respect for our servants, and do nothing absurd, imagine how much security we shall enjoy if we have God before our eyes.

It is better, therefore, not to sin at all; but after that, it is better that those who do sin take notice and be corrected. But if we do not even have this, how shall we implore God for the remission of sins, when we have no accounting for these things? For if you, when you have transgressed, do not wish to acknowledge this very fact—that you have sinned—for what sins will you pray to God? Or for those you do not know? And how will you recognize the magnitude of the benefit? It is indeed a grave evil to do base things, but to be ashamed while doing them is half an evil; yet if one even boasts in this, it is extreme madness. For he who, after he has sinned, condemns his own sin, will be able to recover at some time; but he who pursues wickedness with praises has deprived himself of the remedy of repentance. ^B Just as, therefore, not only those who do evil, but also those who praise them, have the ^C same penalty as them, or even a heavier one, so also those who praise and admire the good are partakers of the crowns laid up for them.

Do not, therefore, despise sin because you do not feel pain when you sin, but rather lament for this very reason: that you do not feel the pain of your sins. For this does not happen because sin does not sting, but because the soul that sins has become stupid and devoid of feeling. But if he who does not grieve for the sins of others is worthy of reproach, what pardon shall he be worthy of who is not even touched by any grief for his own? If Paul neglects his own advantage in order to find that of others, how much punishment shall we be worthy of if we are not even willing to retreat from our own ruin to secure an advantage for others, but instead gladly destroy ourselves along with others, when it is possible to save others along with ourselves? For this reason, birds have wings, that they may flee the snare; for this reason, reason has been given to men, that they may avoid sins.

But you say that you do not know your sins? ^D And how is this consonant with reason? For if you both write laws and pass sentences, and are a diligent judge regarding the sins of others, what excuse could you have if, in the matters in which you yourself transgress, you say you do not know what ought to be done? You committed adultery, and so did that other man; why, therefore, do you chastise him, and yet deem yourself worthy of pardon? For if you knew that adultery was evil, it was not right even to punish the other man; but if you punish another who is guilty of the same, yet think yourself entitled to escape punishment, how would it be consonant with reason that one should not pay the same penalties for the same sins? For when you pass judgment upon another, it says, God will judge you by the same. And hear Paul saying: "Do you think this, O man, who judges those who do evil, and do the same, that you will escape the judgment of God?" (Rom. ii, 3). You have not escaped your own judgment, and will you escape the judgment of God? And how could this be consonant with reason? For it is not the same for someone merely to sin, and for another to have sinned and at the same time to have acted as an avenger, and to have fallen into the same state again.

For if you chastise him who has committed lesser transgressions, although you ought to correct yourself, how will God—who is himself the judge of your own conscience—not more severely accuse and condemn you, who have committed greater sins? But if you say that you know you are worthy of punishment, and yet in the meantime, because of God’s gentleness, you pay no penalty, and because you are not immediately punished, you are confident: you ought rather to fear and tremble for this reason. For the fact that you have not yet paid the penalty does not happen so that you might pay no penalty at all, but so that you might pay heavier ones if you persist without amendment. And indeed, if someone has sinned vehemently, but has done so in secret, and has not been an offense to anyone, he will be chastised with lighter punishments than he who has committed the same, but openly and with offense to many. For a lowly and abject man, even if he is tripped up and falls, does not bring such great harm to the community. But he who stands at the pinnacle of virtue, as if in a high place, with great splendor, and is known and manifest to all, and is in admiration before everyone, if he is tempted by evil and falls, he causes a massive ruin and loss—not only because he has fallen from a height, but also because he has rendered many who look to him more sluggish. As in a body, if one member is diseased, the damage is not as great; but if the eyes are blinded or the head is injured, the whole body becomes useless: so also must it be said of those who have accomplished many things excellently and with praise; if they are obscured, if they incur some stain, they bring general and intolerable harm to the rest of the body. Do not, therefore, fear the snares of a judge, but abhor the power of sin. Another man does not harm you if you do not harm yourself. And if you are immune to sin, even if infinite swords hang over you, God will nevertheless snatch you away; but if you are conscious of sin, even if you were in paradise, you would be expelled. Adam was in paradise, and was cast out; Job was on a dunghill, and was crowned. What did paradise profit the former? What harm did the dunghill bring to the latter? No one laid snares for the former, and he was tripped up; the devil laid snares for the latter, and he was crowned. Did he not take away his wealth? Yet he did not tear away his piety toward God. Did he not shatter his body? Yet he did not find his treasure. Did he not take away his children? Yet he did not shake his faith. Observe this law for me, I beseech you, and I would embrace your knees, if not with my hand, yet with my soul, and pour forth tears: observe this law for me, and no one will ever be able to harm you. You have seen that prophet, I mean David, fighting, falling,

arising, and conquering? You have seen sin lying upon him, and being slaughtered by repentance? Behold him even after the grace of the Spirit, after his boldness toward God, after a multitude of achievements, after so many trophies, proclaiming and saying: *Have mercy on me, O God, according to Thy great mercy* (Ps. LI, 1). You said "great," tell me its measure: for I know it is great, but I cannot measure or grasp it; I have spread myself out on the ocean of my Master's lovingkindness. And what are you saying? Tell me. You have heard the prophet saying, *The Lord also has put away your sin* (2 Reg. XII, 13). What more do you seek? ^B "I do not seek this alone," he says, "but I seek my beauty, I seek my boldness: *Wash me more from my iniquity* (Ps. LI, 2)." Do you see what he seeks? And he seeks yet greater splendor and greater purity. And what do you offer, O David, since you seek these things? "What do I offer? Because I know my iniquity." Is this what you offer? And who is the man who does not know his own sin? "Yes," he says, "how many are there who sin and are brazen? How many afflict their neighbors and do not mourn? But I know my iniquity, and my sin is before me continually" (Ibid, v. 3). O nobility of soul! He did not consign the memory of his sin to oblivion, but even when it was forgiven, he inscribed it as if on an image in his conscience. And see what happens. If you remember it, God does not remember it; if you yourself forget it, God remembers it. Have you done some evil? Remember it, so that your Master may forget it. Have you done some good? Keep it hidden, so that your Master may speak of it; for you do not recount your achievements as He does. And how? Listen. ^C If you give to a poor man, when asked you say, "I saw a poor man hungry, and I fed him." But your Master does not say so, but how? *I was hungry and you fed me* (Matt. XXV, 35). Therefore, when you sin, do not wait for accusation from another, but before you are accused, condemn your own actions; for if another reproves you, henceforth the achievement is no longer yours through confession, but the correction belongs to that person's reproof. For to confess is not to accuse oneself after being reproved, but to accuse oneself first, and not to await reproof from others. For even Peter, after that grievous denial, because he quickly reminded himself of his sin, and with no one accusing him, he both spoke of the transgression and wept bitterly; thus he washed away the denial, so that he even became the first of the apostles and was entrusted with the entire world. For if the priest has received the authority to release sins committed against God, he will be much more able to remove and wipe away those committed against a man. He is a ruler, and a ruler more venerable than the king. ^D For the holy laws have made even the royal head subject to these hands; and whenever it is necessary for something to be done from above, the king is accustomed to take refuge with the priest, not the priest with the king. For this reason, God did not bring down angels from heaven to be teachers of the human race, so that they might not, by reason of their nature’s superiority and their ignorance of human weakness, deal more harshly with our faults; but He gave mortal men as teachers and priests, men encompassed by weakness, so that this very thing might be a bridle for the teacher’s tongue, not permitting him to make criticisms beyond measure. But for what reason have I said these things? So that you might not say: "Because you are pure of sins, and exempted from the pain of rebuke, you inflict upon us with great authority a heavier incision." For I feel the pain first, since I myself am liable to sins; for we are all in need of correction, and no one will boast of having a pure heart. Therefore, I do not engage in philosophy about the ills of others, nor out of any inhumanity, but I make these reproofs from much care. For in the case of doctors of the body, the one who inflicts the wound feels no sensation of the wound, but the one being cut is the only one who is torn apart by the pains; but in the case of those who heal souls, it is not so—unless I am erring in judging the affairs of others by my own—but the speaker himself is pained first, whenever he corrects others. For we are not so pained when we are reproved by others, as when we reprove others for sins for which we are liable. Do you wish to learn how great an achievement it is to remember one’s own? When you rise from your bed, before going to the marketplace, before undertaking any private or public matter, call your servant and demand an account of expenditures, so that we may see what has been spent poorly, what has been spent as needed, and how much has been left over: and if we see that what is left over is small, we devise ways of income in every way, so that we may not unknowingly perish from famine. Let us therefore do this also with our own actions: let us punish our conscience, let us make an account to it of our words, our deeds, our thoughts, let us examine what has been spent as needed and what for our own harm: what word was spent poorly, for insults, for foul language, for abuse; what thought moved the eye to licentiousness; what word ended in action to our harm, either through the hands, or through the eyes themselves; and let us strive to refrain from the untimely expenditure, and instead of what has been spent poorly once, to store up another source of income; instead of words spoken at random, prayers; instead of sights allowed licentiously, alms, fastings. For if we intend to spend untimely, and to store up or treasure nothing good for ourselves, sinking into extreme poverty, we will unknowingly be consigning ourselves to the eternal punishment of fire. How much better, therefore, to exchange the brief time of pleasures that have no end, for penance and mourning, rather than laughing here and departing to be punished eternally! For if Paul, who was so great and such as he was, who like a winged creature ran through the sphere of the entire world, and became superior to bodily needs, and is worthy to hear the arcane words which no one has heard until now, wrote saying: "I chastise my body, and in slavery..."

[LATIN COLUMN] ...I reduce it, lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should be found reprobate (1 Cor. ix, 27). What shall we say, who are weighed down with the burdens of our sins, and furthermore show great sloth? For has this war no truce? We must always be sober and awake, and never secure, for the season of the attacks of our adversary against us is not fixed or determined.

HOMILY XXV

^A Many men among us, bound to the flesh and serving present things, think that there are no such things to come, and, pretending the clemency of God, say that there is no punishment or torment. If, therefore, God is clement, as indeed He is, He will also certainly be just; but if He is just, how would it not be just that he who has been affected by innumerably many benefits from the beginning, and then committed things deserving of judgment, and has been made better neither by threats nor by benefactions, should be punished? For if you seek justice, we ought to have been punished from the beginning and immediately according to the measure of justice. And indeed, He would still be retaining some kindness if we suffered even this, which did not happen. For if anyone injures an innocent person, according to the rule of justice, he pays the penalty; but if anyone injures a benefactor, who has received ^B no benefit but has bestowed innumerable ones—and is the sole cause of our existence—and not only injures Him but even daily saddens Him with his deeds, what pardon will such a one be worthy of? How, tell me, do you not fear to speak such temerity, when you say, "God is kind and does not punish"? But if He does punish, will He no longer be found kind toward you? Why, tell me, do you not wish to be punished when you commit wrong? Has He not predicted everything to you? Has He not threatened? Has He not helped you? Has He not bestowed innumerable things for your salvation? If, therefore, the wicked are not punished, perhaps another will say, neither are the good crowned; and where is the clemency and the just judgment of God?

Do not, therefore, deceive yourselves, O men, by obeying the devil; for these are his ^C thoughts. For if judges and lords and masters reward the good, but visit the wicked with punishments, how could it be consistent with reason for the contrary to happen with God, and for the good and the wicked to be judged worthy of the same things? And when will the wicked depart from their wickedness? For when they are expecting punishment, they do not cease from their evil deeds; if they are freed even from this fear, and not only are they not thrown into Gehenna, but they even obtain the kingdom, where will those who act wickedly and basely stand? I have heard some, desirous of sinning, who say that God has threatened Gehenna to inspire fear in men; for far be it, they say, that He who is merciful should punish anyone, especially from among those who acknowledge Him. Tell me then, you who make God a liar, who overwhelmed the whole world with ^D waves in the time of Noah, and brought about that terrible shipwreck, and effected the destruction of our whole race? Who sent those lightning bolts and fiery tempests upon the land of the Sodomites? Who submerged the whole of Egypt? Who consumed those six hundred thousand in the desert? Who caused the congregation of Abiron to be burned? Who commanded the earth to open its mouth and swallow up Core and Dathan? Who struck down seventy thousand as it were in a moment of time in the days of David? Who slaughtered those one hundred eighty-five thousand in one night, as it is in the prophecy of Isaiah? Do you not see the daily calamities we suffer for our sins? How, therefore, could it be consistent with reason for these to be punished, and others not to be punished? For if God is not unjust, as indeed He is not unjust, you too will certainly pay the penalty, you who sin; but if God does not punish because He is clement, then those likewise ought not to have been punished.

And now, for these words of yours, God punishes many even in this life, so that if you do not believe the words of the threat, you may at least give credence by the actual punishment inflicted. Are we to persuade those who contradict that the discourse about Gehenna is not a fable? For it is so true that not only we, but even poets and philosophers and orators have discoursed about future retribution, and have said that the wicked are punished with torments in the underworld. Although they could not say these things as they truly are, being moved only by thoughts from what they heard among us, they nevertheless received some conjecture of judgment. For they mention certain Cocytuses and Pyriphlegethontian rivers, and the waters of Styx, and Tartarus, as far distant from the earth as it is from heaven; and many modes of punishment; and again, the Elysian field, and the islands of the blessed, and flowering meadows, and great sweetness of fragrance, and the gently blowing breeze; and choirs even exerting themselves there, and some clothed in white garments, and others singing hymns; and in general, that retribution is stored up for both the good and the wicked after their departure from this life. Let us not, therefore, abrogate the belief in Gehenna, lest we fall into it. For he who does not believe is slacker; but he who is slack, will go entirely into it; rather, let us believe undoubtingly, and let us speak of it assiduously; and we shall not easily sin. For the memory of such discourses, like a certain bitter medicine, will have the power to cleanse all vice if it continuously dwells in our soul. If you are cruel and merciless, remember those virgins whose lamps, because they had no oil, were extinguished, and who were excluded from the bridechamber of the bridegroom; and you will immediately begin to be kind. If you wish to plunder, hear the Judge saying, "Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the outer darkness" (Matt. xxii, 13); and you will curb that desire. If you desire luxury, hear the rich man saying, "Send Lazarus, that he may cool my parched tongue with the tip of his finger" (Luke xvi, 24); yet not obtaining his request; and you will immediately cease from this affection. If you feel the fire of wicked lust, think of that fire of punishment, and that extinguished lust will recede. Consider indeed, even if there were no fire, how great a punishment it is to be repelled by God and to depart in ignominy. Believe me, this evil cannot be expressed in words. For if those who do not see the light of the sun endure a life more bitter than any death, what must we believe those suffer who are deprived of that Light?

^A And why do we live and breathe and exist, if we are to fail of that vision? If no one is to grant us to see our Master at that time? If any man, having been thrown into a prison here, though he be one of the well-bred, thinks the stench alone, and the lying in darkness, and the being bound together with murderers, to be more grievous than any death—think what it will be when we are burned there together with the murderers of the whole world, neither seeing nor being seen, but while in such a multitude, thinking ourselves to be alone. For that darkness and lack of light does not allow us even to recognize those near us, but each one will be so disposed as if he alone were suffering this. For if it is also called fire, yet it is dark and possesses no light. And this is that which most of all disturbs and troubles us, that though it burns vehemently, it is neither extinguished, and it has no light. But if darkness alone so afflicts and disturbs our souls by itself, what will it be, pray, when along with the darkness there are also such great pains and burnings? For do not, because hell is called fire, think the fire to be such as this; for this fire, whatever it catches, it consumes and causes to disappear; but that one burns those once captured forever and never rests. For this reason it is also called unquenchable; for it desires to robe those who have sinned in incorruption, not for honor, but so that they may have a perpetual supply for that punishment.

^B But these things are in hell, and things even more bitter than these; yet the loss of good things has such great pain, such great affliction and distress, that even if no punishment were prepared for those who sin in this life, this loss alone would suffice of itself to bite and disturb our souls more bitterly than the tortures in hell. If when entering a prison and seeing some filthy, and others bound in iron chains, and others shut up in darkness, we are crushed, we tremble, we do everything in order not to fall into such necessity and affliction, when we ourselves are being led away bound to the very tortures of hell, who shall we be? And what shall we do? For those bonds there are not of iron, but are of fire that is never extinguished; nor are those set over us our equals, whom it is often possible to appease, but rather terrible and unsympathetic beings, whom it is not even possible to look in the face, as they are vehemently angry on account of the things for which we have insulted the Master. It is not possible, as here, to see some bringing money, some food, and some bringing pleading words and to obtain consolation, but everything there is inexorable; even if Noah, even if Job, even if Daniel were there, and were to see their own kinsfolk being punished, they would not dare to stand by or reach out a hand; for it happens at that time that even the sympathy of nature is taken away. ^C For since there are found righteous men who are fathers of sinful children, and good children of wicked parents, and it is necessary that their joy be pure, and that they not be crushed by the necessity of sympathy while enjoying those good things, I say that this is quenched, and they themselves even join in the indignation with the Master against their own kinsfolk.

Therefore, let no one hope for good things who has done nothing good, even if he has ten thousand righteous ancestors. For when we have consumed the time given to us on something useless, we shall all depart there, about to pay the ultimate penalty for the untimely expenditure. For if he who received money to trade with, and then devoured it, shall be called to account by the one who trusted him and shall pay the penalty, how much more he who has spent this life in vain? And just as we examine our servants, making an account not only of the exit of our money but also of the income, whence and how much and from whom and how they received the money; so also God demands accounts of both the expenditure and the acquisition, from both rich and poor: from the rich, whether he gathered his wealth from just sources, or from rapine and greed; whether he spent his money on harlotry or on the poor; whether on luxury and debauchery and drunkenness, or on the help of the oppressed; from the poor, if he bore his poverty with nobility and gratitude, if he did not despond, if he did not complain, if he did not accuse the providence of God, while he himself existed in want, while another was indulging in luxury and not lacking in substance. ^D And not only rich and poor, but also rulers and judges are examined with much precision, if they corrupted justice, if they gave their vote for the sake of favor or out of enmity against those under judgment, if, having been flattered, they gave their vote contrary to what was right. For by how much each one has ascended to a greater mass of authority, by so much shall he be called to account for more. And the absurd pleasures of life differ in nothing from shadows and dreams; for before the things of sin are completed, the pleasure is extinguished; but the punishments for these have no end; and the pleasant is for a little while, but the painful is eternal. For this reason God discourses to us continuously concerning hell, that we might harvest much from the threat and the fear. For if, being about to cast into it those who sin, He had not announced the threat of this, many would have fallen into it. For if now, while fear is shaking our souls, there are some who so lightly sin as if it did not exist, if nothing of these things had been said nor threatened, what evil would we not have committed? So that the matter is not one of cruelty, but rather of mercy and philanthropy. For indeed, if the destruction had not been threatened over Nineveh, the destruction would not have been prevented; if He had not said that Nineveh would be destroyed, Nineveh would not have stood; and if hell had not been threatened, we would all have fallen into hell. For if God cared for nothing, neither when we sin nor when we do well, perhaps there would be some logic in saying there is no punishment; but if He takes such concern, that we might not sin, and labors so much, that we might do well, it is manifest that He punishes those who sin and crowns the right-acting. But see for me the iniquity of many! For although they accuse God, because He often is lenient to many wicked, lecherous, greedy men, and overlooks their not paying the penalty—there again, the threats of penalties for them are bitter and heavy accusers. Yet now, do not be sad, but embrace the matter and admire it: O, the madness and the desire of the soul! For [G]

those who despise the threats from words, will undergo the penalty from things themselves. For no one of those who have not dissolved their sins here, having departed, will be able to escape the judgment for these things; but just as some are led from prisons bound with chains to the court, so those departing from here, surrounded by various chains of their sins, are led to that fearsome tribunal. If, therefore, you should ever be in a bath built more intensely than is needed, then think of that fire of Gehenna with yourself; and if ever again you are inflamed by a heavy fever, transfer your mind to that flame, and you will be able to lift yourself up well. For if a bath and a fever so trouble and shake us, when we fall into that river of fire which is dragged before that fearsome tribunal, how shall we be, pray? And he who departs for there with many good works and evil, will have some consolation in that punishment and those torments; but he who is stripped of the former, and brings only the latter, cannot be told how much he will suffer, cast into eternal punishment. For there will be a confrontation of evil deeds and those that are not such; and if these latter pull the scales, they will bring no small salvation to their author; and the loss from the labor of evil works will prevail as much as it has dragged it from the former position; but if the former prevail, they lead off into the fire of Gehenna, because the multitude of good deeds is not so great as to be able to stand against that violent push. For nothing of good, even if it be small, will be overlooked there by the Judge. For if we are bound to pay the penalty for sins and words and thoughts, much more will good deeds, whether they be great or small, be reckoned. Therefore it is not enough to have ceased from vice, but one must also have done many good things; for we must abstain from vice in order to be freed from Gehenna, but to obtain the kingdom, one must cling to virtue. For in external matters, it is the custom not to crown him who has done no evil—for this is enough for him merely to escape punishments—but him who has performed many good deeds. But indeed, while I think that the turning away of vices is sufficient for escaping Gehenna, a certain terrible threat enters my mind, not intending punishment for those who have dared any evil, but affecting with penalties those who have neglected something of the good. What, then, is this? “Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire. For I was hungry, and you gave me no food” (Matt. xxv, 41). For those who have not shared any of what they had with the needy, we believe are punished not only by the deprivation of good things, but are even sent into the fire of Gehenna. We are taught, therefore, that those who act well will enjoy heavenly goods; but those who have no vice for which they can be accused, while nevertheless falling short in some good, are those who must be led off to the fire of Gehenna with those who do evil. For if one who transgresses the laws of those who rule on earth undergoes inexorable punishments, much more will he be handed over to intolerable torments who despises the commands of the heavenly Lord. I know that discussing Gehenna seems hateful to you, and generates great pain; but as much as it bites the conscience, so much usefulness it brings to the souls of those who are bitten. For if those things were said to us there, as to the rich man in the history of Lazarus, we would truly have to lament, weep, and mourn, with no time left for repentance; but because we hear these things while we are here, where it is also allowed to repent, and to wipe away committed crimes, and to prepare great confidence, and to take thought, stricken with fear from the evils that have happened to others; let us give thanks to the benevolent God, who through the punishment of others stirs up our sloth, and awakens us who are sleeping. And for what reason are some punished here, while others are there, and not all here? Because if this were the case, perhaps we would all perish: for we are all worthy of punishment. Again, if no one were punished here, most would become slacker, and many might say that there is no providence. For if already, while they see many of the wicked being punished, they utter many such blasphemies; if this were not done, what would they not have said, and to what length of madness would they not have progressed? Therefore God punishes some here, but does not punish others. For He punishes some, so that He may excise their vices, and render the punishment there lighter, or even free them entirely, and so that He may make those living in wickedness more moderate through the vengeance against these; He does not punish others so that, if they attend to themselves and repent, having revered the equanimity of God, they might be freed both from punishments in this life, and from torments in the other; but if they continue in such a way, having become no better from the kindness of God, they might bear a greater punishment on account of their excessive contempt. For if, when we were delinquent, we are honored by God when we ought rather to have been punished, this very thing will be able to throw us all the more into the fire. For if one enjoying only equanimity has not used it as is right, he has a graver punishment: if together with the lightness of his spirit he also obtains the greatest benefits, and then persists in wickedness, who will rescue him from punishment? And just as not giving any punishments here for sins makes the punishment there heavier: so sinning while enjoying great indulgence and opportunity becomes an occasion and source of greater punishment for those who sin. ^A For if anyone is worthy of punishment because he calls his brother a fool: he who calls him a malefactor, envious, or has afflicted others with insults of this kind, what fires of Gehenna will he summon for himself? For the injury in this word, 'fool', is far less than in those mentioned above. Therefore, omitting these, Christ posited that one, teaching us that if a lighter curse makes the curser liable to Gehenna, much more will weightier insults do so. But if, accusing the hyperbole of the speech, we pretend that this was said only to alarm, there is a danger that we might also exempt adulterers, those who lie with males, the effeminate, and idolaters from the aforementioned punishment. For if he threatened these things to those who insult for the sake of causing terror, it is clear that he did so similarly to others: for he grasped them all at once, and thus brought in the loss of the kingdom. What, then, he says, will the reviler be held in the same place as adulterers and the effeminate? Whether he is going to give the same punishments as them, we shall inquire elsewhere; but that they are excluded from the kingdom of heaven in the same way, this we know.

^A If any of us had some secret deed brought out into the middle of the church today, would he not perish? Would he not rather pray for the earth to split open for him than to have so many witnesses of his wickedness? What then shall we suffer when, under the eyes of the whole world, everything is brought into the center in such a splendid and illustrious theater, with both acquaintances and strangers watching everything? What shall we be when we are bound and led away into the outer darkness? But rather, what shall we do (which is more fearful than all else) when we have offended against God? For if anyone has perception and a mind, he has already endured hell when he is removed from the sight of God. For one ought to feel pain, not when we are being punished, but when we are sinning; for to offend against God is more grievous than to be punished. Now, however, we are so miserably disposed that if the fear of hell were not present, we would not quickly choose to do any good thing. Wherefore, if for no other reason, for this reason alone we would be worthy of hell: because we fear hell more than God. ^B For those who sin much and are not punished ought to be afraid and tremble; for the measure of their punishment increases through their impunity and the long-suffering of God. When, therefore, you see someone becoming rich unjustly and prospering, do not call him blessed, but weep for such a one; for this wealth is an addition of punishment for him. For just as those who have sinned much, and do not wish to repent, store up for themselves a treasure of wrath, so those who, besides not being punished, also enjoy prosperity, will undergo a greater punishment. For the punishments for all sins are not the same, but many and various, according to the times, the persons, the dignities, and their understanding. For if two be wicked, and yet not enjoy the same conditions here—the one in wealth, the other in poverty—they will not be punished there in the same way, but the wealthier one more severely. For this reason God does not exact justice from everyone here, so that you might not despair of the resurrection and lose hope in the judgment, thinking that everyone is giving an account here; nor does He allow everyone to depart unpunished, so that you might not think that all things are without providence. Do not many people today do the same things as those who were punished before for their sins? Indeed, they do. For when you kill a brother not with a sword, but spiritually, as Cain did, have you not done the same things? For what if you did it not with a sword but in another way? Has then no one envied his brother today? Has no one cast ^C him into danger? But they did not pay the penalty here. But they shall pay it. For if he who had heard neither the written laws nor the prophets, nor seen great signs, pays such a penalty, shall he who has done the same things later, and is not corrected even by so many examples, be unpunished? Where then is the justice of God? But even the sons of Eli, because they ate before the incense, paid a most grievous penalty along with their father. Has there then been no father negligent about his children, nor any wicked children? Yet no one paid the penalty. When, therefore, will they pay it if there is no hell? And what of Ananias and Sapphira, because they stole from what they had dedicated, and were punished immediately—has no one since that time done this? How then have they not paid the same penalty? Are we persuading you that there is a hell, or shall we need more examples? I myself wished that there were no punishment—and I, most of all. Why? Because each of you is fearful for your own soul, but I must also render an account for this stewardship. So that, most of all, it is impossible for me to escape this. Therefore, God is good and loving, not only when He confers benefits, but also when He punishes. For even His punishments and penalties are a very great part of His benefits; since a physician is a physician not only when he leads the patient out into sunny gardens and meadows, nor when he leads him to baths and water-basins, but also when he orders him to remain fasting, when he cuts, when he brings bitter medicines—even then he is a physician all the same, and shows his philanthropy all the more. When, therefore, you see someone caring for virtue and enduring a myriad of temptations, count him blessed, emulate him, as all his sins are being dissolved here and many rewards are being prepared for him there from his endurance. For of mankind, some are punished only here; others suffer nothing such here, but receive all the punishment there; others are punished both here and there. Which of these three, then, do you count blessed? I know well that you count those blessed first who are punished here and put aside their sins. And the second after them—who? You perhaps would say those who suffer nothing here but undergo all the punishment there; but I would not, but rather those who are punished both here and there. For he who has paid a penalty here will feel the punishment there more lightly; but he who is forced to undergo all the punishment there will have inescapable justice. For what reason does God foretell the terrible things He is going to do? So that He might not do what He foretells. For this reason He also threatened hell, so that He might not lead [us] into hell. "Let the words," He says, "frighten you, and let not the experiences grieve you." Your promises are good, O Master; good is Your expected kingdom, and the hell that is again threatened is also good; for the kingdom encourages well, and hell frightens usefully. For God threatens hell, not that He may cast [us] into hell, but that He may free [us] from hell; for if He had wished to punish, He would not have foretold it in advance, so that we might be secure and escape the things threatened. He threatens the punishment so that we may avoid the trial of the punishment; He frightens, by the

^B fear of what is to come, in order that we might be delivered from the reality. I know that many dread only Gehenna; but I say that being deprived of the glory of heaven is a punishment far more bitter than Gehenna. ^C And if this cannot be made clear to you by means of speech, it is no wonder; for we do not know the blessedness of those goods, so as to see clearly the misery of being deprived of them. Since Paul, however, had scrutinized these things, he knew that to fall away from the glory of Christ is of all things the most grievous. ^D And we shall know this then, when we actually fall into the trial. But may this never happen to us, O only-begotten Son of God, nor may we ever undergo a trial of that inexpiable punishment; for Gehenna and that punishment are intolerable. But even if you were to speak of six hundred Gehennas, you would say nothing comparable to being thrust away from that blessed glory, to being hateful to Christ, to hearing, "I do not know you," to being accused of having seen Him hungry and not having fed Him. For it would be better to endure infinite thunderbolts than to see that mild face turned away from us, and not to endure that sweet eye, that it might look upon us. For if He Himself pursued me, while I was yet an enemy and hating Him and turning away from Him, in such a way that He did not even spare Himself, but gave Himself up to death: if, after all those things, I do not deem Him worthy even of food when He is hungry, with what eyes shall I then look upon Him? Tell me further, if someone were to promise that, once you had become old and were living in poverty, he would suddenly make you young and restore you to the very prime of life, and make you very strong and beautiful beyond all others, and would also wish to grant you the empire of the whole earth for a thousand years, what would you not be willing to do and to suffer for the sake of such a proposal? And yet, when Christ promises not these things, but things by far greater than these, which He has prepared for those who love Him, how much wealth is it not worth casting aside? Or rather, how many souls is it not worth casting aside? But since it is not permitted to see these things with bodily eyes, ascend by your reasoning, and standing above the heaven, look towards that heaven which is higher than this, into the immense depth, into that unapproachable light, into the crowds of angels; and again, having grasped an image of these things, descend from on high, and portray for me the things that are on earth concerning a king: for instance, men wearing gold, a yoke of white mules adorned with gold, a gilded carriage, and golden plates being shaken all around; also dragons fashioned on silk garments, and golden asps having eyes, and in addition horses wearing gold, and golden bridles; and when these things have been gathered together for you with precision, pass on from these again in your mind to the higher things, and ponder with yourself that day on which Christ arrives. For you will not see then a yoke of mules, nor golden carriages, nor dragons or asps, but the whole heaven being opened, and the only-begotten Son of God descending, not being attended by twenty or a hundred satraps, but by thousands and ten thousands of angels and archangels; and all things will then be full of fear and trembling, while all men who ever existed from the time of Adam until that day will rise from the earth and be caught up; and He will appear with such glory that the sun and moon hide their own light completely, being surpassed by that brilliance, and He will render to each according to his works. But the majority of those who are somewhat alien to reason think they bring some consolation to themselves by saying that everyone is being punished in Gehenna; for indeed this is a very foolish argument, to say, "As with everyone, so also with me." Consider for me those who are held by the pain of gout: when they are distorted by the sharpness of the pain, even if you show them infinite numbers who are suffering worse things, they do not perceive it in their mind; for the intensity of the pain does not allow the intellect to have any leisure to think about others and find consolation. Let us not, therefore, feed ourselves on this cold hope. For it happens in lesser evils to receive consolation from the calamities of one's neighbor; but if the torture prevails, and everything is full of inner turmoil, and the soul is already unable to recognize even itself, whence will it find consolation? If someone were to lead you into a theater where everyone was sitting dressed in golden garments, and in the midst of the multitude he were to show some other person, wearing both garments and a crown on his head made of pure pearls, and then were to promise to bring you into the order of that multitude, would you not do all things to attain that promise? Now, indeed, when the theater has been composed for us in the heavens, not out of such things, but out of things that cannot be explained in words (for concerning the King it is not even permitted to speak), shall we deprive ourselves of such great blessings, so as not to labor even for a short time? For if it were necessary to endure infinite deaths daily, if it were necessary to endure even Gehenna itself, in order to see Christ coming in His glory and to be enrolled in that choir of the saints, would it not be necessary to tolerate all those things? But the majority of those whose mind is alienated from reason consider it sufficient for themselves if they are liberated from Gehenna. But I say that the punishment is far more grievous than Gehenna: not to be in the glory of Christ; and I consider that he who falls away from that, ought to lament, not so much because of the evils of Gehenna, as because of the fact that he has been rejected by the Lord: for this alone, in the account of punishment, is more bitter than all things. If we were embracing Christ with the love with which it is right, we would know how much more grievous it is to offend a friend than to suffer Gehenna; but because we do not love Him, we are ignorant even of the magnitude of this punishment; and this is what I most of all deplore and lament. For if it were a man who loved in this way, and a king who was thus loved, would one not marvel at the magnitude of this love? Indeed, very much so; but when the case is the opposite, and His beauty and glory and riches are immense, He who loves us, while our own vileness is great: how are we not worthy of infinite punishments, who, being so vile and abject, are loved by such a One, so great and so admirable beyond all measure, and we despise the love of Him who was willing to prefer nothing to us? For He had an only Son, the true and only-begotten, and He did not spare even Him for our sake; yet we prefer the commandments of Satan to Him. Is it not, therefore, with good reason that Gehenna and the torments will be greater by twice, or thrice, or infinite parts? Do not then rebuke my lamentations, most beloved: for it is not lamenting that is an evil, but doing things worthy of lamentations; nor is it an evil to mourn, but to be the cause of mourning by acting evilly. Do not be subjected to punishments, and I will not lament; do not be cast into Gehenna, and I will not mourn. For it is better for us to be pricked by these words than to be subjected to tortures at that time. You

and I lament. For if a man were the one who loved in this way, and a king the one who was thus loved, would he not be delighted by the greatness of this love? Most certainly. But when the reverse is true—when the beauty and glory and wealth of the One who loves us are beyond utterance, and our own worthlessness is so great—how are we not deserving of ten thousand punishments, we who are so worthless and cast away, yet loved by such a great and wonderful Being with every degree of intensity, while we despise His love, He who prefers nothing before us? For He had one only-begotten and genuine Son, and did not spare even Him for our sake; yet we prefer the commands of Satan to His. Is not hell and punishment, then, reasonable, even if it were double, or triple, or ten thousand times as great? ^A Do not judge me for my lamentations. For it is not lamenting, beloved, that is grievous, but doing things worthy of lamentation; nor is it mourning that is abominable, but acting in such a way as to provide cause for mourning. Be not punished, and I do not grieve; be not cast into hell, and I do not mourn. For it is better for us to be stung by these things now, than to be tormented at that time. But you, if your body were infirm, would call upon everyone to sympathize with you, and would consider those who do not sympathize as unfeeling; yet while your soul is perishing, you tell me not to mourn? But I cannot; for I am a father, and a father full of affection. ^B It would have been good to see the fire of my mind, and you would have known that I am burning more than any woman who undergoes premature widowhood. A woman does not mourn her husband, nor a father his son, the way I mourn this multitude here with us, because I see no progress among you. But everyone is consumed by slanders and accusations, and all our time is wasted in accusing. Have you ever seen those being led away to death? What do you think their soul is like as they walk until they reach the gate? What fear of ten thousand deaths is it not? What would they not choose to do or to endure in order to be delivered from that darkness and that cloud? I have heard many people saying, when they have been summoned back after the lead, by royal clemency, that they did not even see the people as human beings, because their soul was thrown into confusion, struck with terror, and beside itself. ^C If, therefore, bodily death so frightens you, what shall we do when the eternal one arrives? When we see the earth being rent asunder, when we see the heaven being rolled up, when we see the King of all things Himself arriving—what then will our soul be like? If, when others are put to death, those who are not involved are so affected—that is, a death which differs nothing from sleep—that they have their soul broken and relaxed from fear and despondency, what then will be our state when we ourselves fall into the greater punishments of eternal chastisement? ^D It is impossible, believe me, to express the suffering in words; it is impossible. "Yes," one says, "but God is philanthropic, and none of these things will be." Then is it written in vain? "No," he says, "but it is only as a threat, so that we may be soberminded." If, then, we are not soberminded, but remain wicked, will He not bring about the punishment? Then He will not render rewards to the good, either. "Yes," he says, "for this is becoming, and to do good beyond desert." So those things are true and will certainly come to pass, but the ones regarding punishments are not certainly so, but are for the sake of threat and fear? What then? Have you heard about the flood? Was that also said for the sake of a threat? Did it not happen just as it was said? Such were the things many said back then, and during the one hundred years that the ark was being built, and while the righteous one was crying out, there was no one who believed; but because they did not believe the threat conveyed by words, they underwent the punishment conveyed by facts. Let us hasten to escape the experience of this as much as possible, so that we may both complete our life here with ease and obtain the future goods, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory together with the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXVI

and not stopping even there, but continuing to distress themselves with fasts and famine. And do not tell me that others were much weaker and wealthier and more pampered, who undertook that harsh and rugged life. But the struggle is great and lofty; the peak is near the heaven, and you are able to reach the great [reward]; or at least by having less, you still strive for the lower things. You cannot cast off your wealth? Yet you can steal that of others? You cannot fast? Yet you can lead yourself out of luxury? For if Christ suffered so much for us, though we were His enemies, what can we show that we have suffered? Where, then, will we find boldness on that day? Do you not know that when a soldier shows [his] wounds ^A and his scars, then he will be able to appear brilliant before the king? But if he has no achievements, even if he has done no harm, he will be ranked among the basest. But it is a time of war, not of rest. For if, tell me, you were to exert yourself, who would contend, who would leap into the enemy, who would break the phalanx? Perhaps no one. For when I see that you cannot even despise money for the sake of Christ, how can I believe that you will despise wounds? "Bear," He says, "with those who insult you, and bless [them]." You do not do this, nor do you obey; the thing that has no danger you do not perform, and yet you will [have to] bear blows, tell me, where there is great bitterness and pain? Let us not, therefore, deceive ourselves, promising ourselves a sweet fruit of this life for a little while, so that we may afterwards receive the reward of all time for short labor. For if one can scarcely look confidently upon a terrestrial king after many dangers and many wars exhausted, how will one be able to look upon the heavenly King, who has been subject to another and served under another for the whole time of life? You have received noble birth from God; why do you destroy nature? What, I ask, are you doing? Others have arts by which they might transform animals, as much as is permitted, into the human genus, teaching parrots and magpies to speak with a human voice; and by art they violate nature: they tame lions, leading them through the forum. You, therefore, render a lion tame, and make yourself fiercer than wolves? And what is more grievous to bear, each of the beasts has one vice; but in the wicked man it is not so: for he does not labor under one vice ^B more often, but he heaps the vices of many beasts at once into his soul. Do not, therefore, persuade me that you have a human soul, if you do not think as is appropriate for a man. Since you are the master of beasts, will you serve the desires of beasts? How, then, should I call you a man, who hold no insignia of the King? Let it come to your mind in whose image you were made; and towards the vileness of beasts do not easily cast yourself down. For just as in the theaters, those who exercise themselves to climb up and down a rope stretched on high, if they have wandered but a little from the eyes, they fall headlong downwards and perish: so those who travel along the spiritual way, if they give themselves to sloth and idleness for a short time, are cast down headlong. For this way is much narrower than that rope, and more erect and arduous and much more sublime: for it reaches even to the highest heaven itself; and when we have arrived at that supreme pinnacle, then indeed the step is more uncertain for us. For standing on high, a great horror surrounds us, and this one security remains to them, that they do not turn their eyes downwards nor look back at the earth; for a great and heavy vertigo arises from this. And just as on the lyre it is not enough to have produced a melody from one string only, but all must be gone through with a certain equal number: so in the virtue of the soul, one law alone is not sufficient for us for salvation, but all must be observed exactly. For what, I ask you, does it profit to pray at length, but not to show mercy generously? Or to show mercy generously, but meanwhile to act avariciously and inflict violence? Or not to act avariciously and violently, yet to act for the sake of the ostentation and ambition of those looking on? Or even to pursue others with mercy, and that with all diligence and according to the will of God, but to be ^C overconfident in this very thing, and to become arrogant? Or finally to show oneself humble, and to spend more impetuously on fasts; meanwhile to be avaricious, to be a merchant, to be deeply fixed to the earth, and to have brought into one's soul avarice, the mother of all vices? "You cannot," He says, "serve God and mammon" (Matt. 6:24). He placed all men to coalesce, and for the bad to be mixed equally with the good, so that both the vice of the bad might be cut away, and the virtue of the good might be rendered more illustrious, and so that the ignorant might obtain great benefit from the conversation of the diligent. For just as good and upright men are worthy of double honor, because they both were thrifty, and contracted no vice from the wicked: so too the wicked are worthy of double punishment, both because they turned out wicked, when they could have been good; and because they received no benefit from the conversation of the upright. And just as the good are admired not only by the upright, but also by the wicked: so too the wicked are hated not only by the good, but also by the bad. But most men admire the wicked, as those who can do harm to others and inflict injury especially; ignorant that it behooves one to call them the most miserable of all, for that, thinking they are harming others, they drive a sword into themselves: which is surely of supreme madness, to wound oneself, and yet not to feel this very thing, but while one believes oneself to be inflicting an injury on another, to cut one's own throat. For it is not an evil to suffer injury, but to inflict injury. For what injury did David suffer? What indeed did Saul inflict? Which therefore was more unhappy and more miserable? And again, which was more illustrated and happier? Was not this one tormented by trouble and a wicked demon, but that one was even clearer than the sun with trophies and charity toward God? Was not this one strangled by envy ^D, the other indeed, while he bore all things in silence, was binding all to himself, since this one indeed often attempted to kill him; that one indeed while he fled, took the enemy in his hands, and having taken him, spared him? Which therefore of these appears weaker, which indeed more invalid? Is it not he who was persecuting another unjustly? And most deservedly indeed, because this one had armed soldiers, but that one had justice—stronger than countless soldiers—as his companion and helper. But after this same one was affected by injury and was a victor, he himself then affected another with injury, see how he is rendered weaker. With an injury he had harmed Uriah; and the battle line was changed again, and the weakness passed to the one wounding, but the strength to the one unjustly harmed, who, even dead, overthrew his house: and that one indeed, being king and surviving, could do nothing; but this one, a soldier and already spotted, turned everything of his upside down. If, therefore, you see anyone living rightly, and always looking toward divine worship, even if he is covered with countless chains, or even if he lives perpetually in prison, or tolerates servitude among the unworthy, or is pressed by poverty, or is torn from a tomb and burned, or his body is consumed, or he sustains any evil whatsoever, proclaim such a man blessed, and deem him worthy of emulation. But if you see another spending his life in impropriety and wickedness and the highest vices, and meanwhile enjoying many honors, ascending the royal throne, crowned with a diadem, clothed in purple, and finally dominating the whole globe of the earth: on account of this very thing such a

man is to be lamented and pitied. For nothing is more miserable than a soul disposed in this way, even if it has the whole world in subjection. For what advantage is there in being wealthy in riches, when one is poorer than all in virtue? Or what gain is there in ruling over so many, when one is unable to master oneself and one’s own passions? For if our own virtue is not sufficient for our salvation, but it is necessary that we should also have others, if we should fail to save either ourselves or others, what will become of us? From where then shall we have hope of salvation? If being pleasing to God is what it means to be human, he who does not even wish to hear how one might achieve this—what else could he be but a beast? ^A Think, therefore, how great an evil it is that, while Christ desires to make us angels from among men, we should fall down from being men into beasts. For to be a slave to the belly, to be possessed by the desire for riches, and to be angry and to bite and to kick, is a trait not of men, but of beasts. Just as, therefore, we incline toward sloth and are harmed by those we encounter, so if we wish to be sober, even if there are ten thousand dragging us toward wickedness, none of them will be able to damage our zeal. And if you wish to learn that God has implanted in our nature the laws that distinguish what is good and what is evil, ask our own conduct itself. How is it that all who do evil things avoid the name of evil? The adulterer commits adultery; but hearing the word "adulterer," he is ashamed. Say to the man who is known to be an adulterer, "Adulterer," and the one who does the act is pleased, yet hearing the name, he is ashamed. Say to the perjurer, "Perjurer," and he takes the naming of his own deeds as an insult. ^B If, therefore, you consider sin a good thing, why do you avoid the name of it? But say to the temperate man, "Temperate," and he is pleased by the deed, nor is he ashamed of the name. Call the just man "just," and he is crowned by the deed, and he prides himself on the name; for even if out of modesty he should decline the title, he receives the praise in his soul. And again, one will find no vice appearing by its own face, if it does not borrow the face of virtue; and how, listen. The one who lies does not lie by confessing the lie, but by pretending to be truthful he deceives. The crafty man does not show craftiness, but fashions it as friendship and manages his wickedness. The slanderer, when he enters a courtroom, does not enter having confessed what he is, but having set up a witness of truth in his manner, through the lie he demonstrates the witness of wickedness. ^C But even our soul, although it may wallow in vices, yet embraces the name of what is good. For many times, powerful men, breathing greed and thinking of nothing else but rapacity and injustice, when they are approached by certain people, either to release the poor from the necessity laid upon them, or to forgive some part of a debt, or not to take vengeance on those who have offended them or are thought to have offended them—the one who has come to negotiate well before a powerful and wicked man does not immediately begin from the truth and tell him what he is, but adds to him the name of virtue. "Man," he says, "you are good; your name is famous; all sing of your benefactions," and he joins many such things to it, so that he may be softened by the praise and flee from wickedness. See how wickedness is defeated by the praises of virtue; no evil person wishes to be spoken of badly. For nature embraces what is its own, even if the inclination chooses the opposite. Let us not, therefore, say that this person is good by nature, and that person is evil by nature. For if one were good by nature, he would never be able to become evil; and if one were evil by nature, he would never become good. For if it were not in our power to be wicked and good, and if the Lover of mankind had not fashioned our nature to be possessed of free will, it would have been necessary for all those sharing in this nature to be evil, and subject to the same passions, or for all to be virtuous. ^D When, however, we see those of our own race, and troubled by the same passions, not undergoing the same things as us, but with a strengthened reasoning guiding their nature and overcoming the disorderly impulses, and laughing at all the prosperity of the present life, and being enraptured toward true glory, is it not clear that they are able to achieve these things by their own zeal after the grace from above? And that we, using our own sloth, betray our salvation, making ourselves destitute of the favor from thence? Let no one, therefore, blame any other as impeding him in the labors of virtue, but let him ascribe the whole matter to his own despondency. And what do I say of another? Let no one even think the devil himself is capable of hindering the path that leads to virtue; rather, he indeed deceives and trips up the slothful, but he does not truly hinder or force them. And the experience of things itself shows this: that whenever we wish to be sober, we display so much intensity that, even if there are many encouraging us toward the path of wickedness, we do not tolerate the counsel, but we become sturdier than any adamant, and we stop our ears to those advising us toward base things. But when we are slothful, and there is no one advising or tripping us up, we move toward wickedness, being stirred from within. Virtue, therefore, is indeed wonderful in and of itself; but when one pursues it in the midst of those who hinder it, it renders it much more wonderful. For the place does not make the virtue, but virtue is by nature such that it makes the place respectable. And many may enjoy the benefit of one person's virtue; but the wickedness of many, even if one person should be upright in the midst of a great crowd, is not carried away. And one man living rightly will not be able to drag down the one living well and destroy him; yet a whole city destroyed will not be able to save itself from the wrath of God. And this is clear from Noah; for while all were perishing, he alone was saved; and it is evident from Moses; for he alone had the strength to avert the wrath from such a crowd. But I have also another example of the divine clemency to mention. When I have found no men who can restore sinners, I turn to the dead. Through them, he says, remit the sins. Just as He says to Hezekiah: "I will protect this city, for my own sake and for the sake of David my servant" (4 Kings 19:34). Do you see how great is the virtue of the saints? For their words...

alone are not the only things worthy of reverence, but their garments are likewise for all creation. The sheepskin of Elijah parted the Jordan ^A; the sandals of the three children trod upon the fire; the wood of Elisha changed the nature of the waters and made iron float upon the surface; the rod of Moses divided the Red Sea and shattered the rock; the garments of Paul cast out demons; the shadow of Peter put death to flight; the ashes of the holy martyrs drove away wicked demons. They do all things with power, just as Elijah did. For he did not look only at the diadem and the outward appearance of the king, but also at the soul clothed in a cloak, squalid, filthy, and affected more miserably than any condemned man; and when he saw him as a captive and liable to diseases, he disdained him along with his kingdom. For he seemed to be looking at an actor on a stage, and not at a king in truth. What then does it matter to abound in riches outwardly, when such destitution is stored up within? On the other hand, what harm is it to appear poor outwardly, when such great abundance is stored up within? Such, indeed, was the blessed Paul, a lion himself; for having entered the prison, he shook the foundations with his voice alone, and crushed the chains, not using his teeth, but his words. Therefore, they are not to be called merely lions, but something even greater than lions. For a lion, when it falls into a net, is often captured, but the saints, when cast into chains, become stronger; the lion roars and puts all beasts to flight; the saint cries out and puts demons to flight from every side. But what speech would suffice for the brilliant achievements of Paul, or what tongue could attain to his praises? For whether the prophets, or the patriarchs, or the just, or the apostles, or the martyrs have brought forth something excellent, this one man, having gathered all these things together, possesses them with such excellence as no one of those men possessed whatever virtue his own. When, therefore, one soul alone includes all the goods that have ever existed in men, and indeed all with a certain excess, not only of men but also of angels, how shall we be able to equate the sum of such praises with words? What animadversion would we not deserve if, when one man was able to include all things within himself, we did not strive to imitate even the smallest part of him? ^B Abraham is admired for many other good deeds, but especially because he did not refuse to sacrifice his own son. Isaac is admired for his gentleness, because when he was driven from his own borders, he did not resist, but yielded his own possessions on every side, until he had satisfied the wanton desire of the men who were harassing him. And Jacob likewise was distinguished for his fortitude and endurance; David for his gentleness; and Elijah, because he was zealous for the Lord. But what could be equal to Paul, who included all these things in a greater way? For he did not sacrifice one son, but sacrificed himself ten thousand times; he was not only driven from his own borders, but he wandered like one winged over earth and sea, Greece and barbarian nations, and every land under the sun, dragged, beaten, overwhelmed with stones, and facing death every single day; nor did he serve for twice seven years, scorched by the heat of the day and the cold of the night, but spent his whole life in hunger, nakedness, cold, and prisons, beset by plots and dangers. And as for modesty and gentleness, who has shown both of these more, or who equally with Paul's soul? But if you look at his ardor, you will find it as much fiercer than Elijah's as he excelled the other prophets. But John fed on locusts and wild honey: yet this man, living in the midst of the inhabited world just as that one did in the desert, did not feed on locusts and wild honey, but set before himself a table much more meager than that, and not even supplied with necessary ^C food because of the labor of his preaching. It remains now that we compare him even with the angels. And let no one reproach the boldness of this speech: for if Scripture called John an angel, what is to be wondered at if we wish to compare the man most excellent of all with those virtues? For what, in the end, is a man, and how great is the nobility of our nature, and of how great a virtue is this creature capable, Paul has shown most of all; he who never, from the time he was born, ceased to make a defense for the Lord with a magnificent voice against all those who accuse the fabric of our nature, and showed that there is not much difference between angels and men, if we wish to pay attention to ourselves. For he was not a participant in a different nature, nor did he inhabit a different world, but cultivated in the same earth and region, by the same laws and customs, he surpassed all men who have ever been born; and just as the body is motionless when added to a corpse, so he, calming the impulses of nature, never succumbed to any human perturbation in any matter. For just as in money, if anyone has carried off a gain of two gold pieces, he takes greater courage to collect and amass ten or twenty: in the same way it happens in virtue, that he who has done a good work and accomplished something with praise, receives some encouragement and exhortation to labor, so that he may strive to tackle many more things in a similar way. And let no one say to me, "There are many who act rightly": for this is not what we are seeking, but that all should act rightly. Do you not see that this happens in our own body? For if we strike our foot or injure a fingernail alone, the whole body suffers with the member. Do not therefore say, "A few have been left who have not acted rightly," but rather consider that it will happen that these few who do not act rightly will corrupt the others. For among the ^D Corinthians there was one who had committed fornication, and yet Paul groaned no differently than if the whole city had perished; and that not without great reason: for he knew that unless that man were amended, the disease, suddenly progressing, would invade all. For if we cut off a limb from the body that is consumed by rot or an incurable disease, fearing lest the remaining body also contract the same ruin; and we do this, not because we think little of that member, but because we prefer to preserve the whole: how much more shall it be necessary to do this regarding the vices of those who live with us? For if we can correct them in such a way that we ourselves receive no harm, it is necessary to do everything; but if they both remain uncorrected and at the same time inflict damage upon us, they are to be restrained and cast away.

^A For if we disown our wayward sons, and do not even reverence the nature they share with us, much more should we flee from our acquaintances and friends if they be wicked. But you say: "They are scandalized and harbor evil suspicions." And what is that to you? Honor yourself, and no one will be able to insult you; but if you dishonor yourself, even if all men honor you, you shall never be honored. For he who is thought wicked while being good suffers no harm therefrom in respect to being what he is; but he who suspects basely and in vain brings upon himself the utmost punishment. ^B But the wicked man, if he be suspected because of contrary deeds, will gain nothing therefrom, but will have greater judgment and will fall into greater sloth. For such a person as this, if he be suspected, might perhaps be humbled and recognize his own sins; but when he escapes notice he even falls into insensibility. For if, when all are accusing them, those who do wrong are with difficulty aroused to compunction, when some not only do not accuse them but even praise them, when will they be able to look up? So it is impossible for those who are in virtue to be well spoken of by all, nor is it possible for one who pursues virtue not to have many enemies; for praise from all would be a very great proof that one does not make much account of virtue. ^C For how could such a person be praised by all if he wished to rescue the wronged from those who wrong them? Again, if he wished to correct those who sin and praise those who do right, is it not likely that he would praise some and blame others? So it is impossible for the one who pursues virtue with exactitude, and who receives praise from God alone, to be praised and well spoken of by all men. For wickedness always displays much madness against virtue; but it not only does not harm it, but even makes it stronger by warring against it. For such is the power of virtue, that it prevails over these things even in the suffering of them, and in being warred upon it is established as superior to those who war against it. For consider Abel for me: was he not slain by Cain? But he who was slain is proclaimed and crowned by that act from then until now, and so much time has not withered his memory; but he who slew and prevailed even then suffered a life more grievous than death, and from that time until now he is branded and receives accusations from all. And these things are in the present life; but as for what shall be in the world to come, what discourse or what mind could present it? ^D But hear also what Christ says: "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal" (Luc. 13:21). Consequently, the righteous possess the power of leaven, so that they may change the wicked to their own quality. But the righteous are few; for the leaven too is small; but that smallness changes the whole lump to itself through the power that is in it. So also the power of the righteous does not consist in the quantity of the number, but has its strength in the grace of the Spirit; and how, hear. There were twelve apostles: do you see how small the leaven is? The whole world was in unbelief: do you see how great the lump is? Yet those twelve turned the whole world unto themselves. For both the leaven and the lump are of the same nature, but not of the same quality. And if you wish to learn from another source how much greater the boldness of the righteous is than tyrannical power, hear John saying to Herod: "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife" (Marc. 6:18). Herod, a king, surrounded by guards, flowing with wealth, wielding kingly power; John, a pauper, homeless, without a city, without possessions, unfed, eating locusts from the herbs and wild honey. But this pauper, who walks in the deserts, gives orders with authority to the ruler of populous cities: "It is not lawful for you." Do you see how by nature dominion belongs to virtue over wickedness? But on account of these things the righteous man is thrown into prison; that bitter banquet takes place, and the damsel comes in dancing in the midst of the banquet, and pleases Herod and those reclining with him, so that Herod swears: "Ask whatever you wish, and I will give it to you, up to half of my kingdom" (Marc. 6:22, 23). Do you see where he flung away the kingdom? "Whatever you ask, I will give you, even to half of my kingdom." O wretched and miserable man, were the eyes of your mind so corrupted? Do you judge the kingdom to be worth so little? Once the damsel danced, and you surrendered half; if she should dance a second time, what will you do? Pray that she does not dance again, or if she does, that she does not please you; if not, there remains for you only to beg. For those who gape at things present, even if they be infinitely wealthy, even if they be surrounded by great power, are in the rank of slaves and bondmen to those who pursue virtue. For let there be some wicked king, and a good private citizen: let us see who is lord of whom, and where the marks of lordship shine; and who is the one ruling, and who is the one ruled. How then shall we know this? The king orders the private citizen to do some wicked thing, and one full of offense: what then does the good private citizen and subject do? Not only will he not yield nor obey, but he will try also to lead the one commanding him away from his purpose, even if it be necessary to die. Who then is free? The one who does what he wills, and does not even fear the king, or he who is despised by the subject? For just as the captive, even if he has infinite wealth, for this very reason is most easily taken by all; so also he who is ensnared by the passions, even if he be wrapped in the very diadem, is more worthless than any spider. What then could be more pitiful than those who pursue wickedness, when they are deprived of the very naming of being called men, and undergo punishment, because having received many advantages from nature, they have betrayed these, having surrendered themselves willingly, and having deserted to wickedness? For if he who returns what was given is wicked because he did not double it, he who destroys even this, what shall he hear? If he who hides what is given...

to receive, it would not have tasted of the later; nor would it have been submerged along with his entire army. But he who becomes good under compulsion will never be truly good; since once freed from necessity, he will soon return to his natural bent. Let us not, therefore, demand this by saying: "What place will he receive who has done no evil nor any good?" For to do no good is in itself an evil. If you had a servant who neither stole, nor insulted you, nor grumbled, and who abstained from drunkenness and all other vices, but sat around idle all the time, and performed none of the services which a servant owes to his master, tell me, would you not scourge him? Would you not subject him to torture? And yet he has committed no crime. It is sufficient, therefore, to be considered evil that one has done no good. Let there be for us also a farmer who dissipates none of our property, nor acts with deceit or intrigue, nor steals, but who sits at home with folded hands, neither scattering seeds, nor tilling the fields, nor tending the vine, nor performing any other work concerning agriculture: will we not punish such a man? And yet he has done us no injury, nor do we have anything with which we can accuse him. But by this very thing, he has committed an injury. And in our own body, if there be a hand that does not strike the head, nor cut out the tongue, nor pluck out the eyes, nor do any other such evil, but remains merely idle, and does not perform its own duty for the whole body: will it not be more worth our while to cut it off than to carry it around idle and injurious to the whole body? And what of the mouth, if it does not consume the hand, nor bite the chest, but omits all those things which belong to itself: would it not be better to have had it shut? If, therefore, in these things, not only to have done no evil, but even to have omitted the good is considered a great injury, how much more so in spiritual matters. Would that it were possible for me indeed to wage the battle well on your behalf, and for you to reap the rewards of the deed performed, and I would never be so troublesome. For just as a mother, seeing her son suffering from a fever, standing by him as he is in pain and burning, and lamenting, says frequently: "Would that it were permitted me, my son, to take your fever upon myself, and to draw this flame into my own self," so also I say, "Would that it were possible for me, by laboring for your sakes, to perform everything well." But this is not permitted, it is not permitted. Wherefore, if anyone can correct others, let him join himself most especially to those who are about to accept the cure, and make them better; but he who is weaker, let him flee from the wicked, lest he undergo the same destruction from them. For thus he will spend his present life securely, and obtain the future goods; which may it be our lot all to obtain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXVII

^A there is no profit for you in your kingship and in this great power. For when piety does not exist, even the possessions one has are lost with danger and the utmost shame; but when this is present, even things that do not exist are added. Parents, therefore, must consider not how to make their children rich in silver and gold, but how they may become more affluent than all in piety, philosophy, and the acquisition of virtue; how they may lack little, and how they may not be distracted by worldly matters and youthful desires. It is necessary to scrutinize their comings and goings, their associations, and their company, knowing that if these are neglected, they will have no excuse before God. For if we are required to give an account for the care of others—each one, it is said, let him not seek his own, but that of his neighbor—how much more for that of our children? ^B Yet you, on the other hand, do everything and exert yourself so that a horse may be suitable for them, and the house magnificent, and the farm luxurious; but that the soul may be beautiful and the disposition pious, you have no concern. And yet, if possessions are many and luxurious, when there is no virtuous person to manage them, all will be lost and will perish with him. But if the soul becomes noble and philosophic, even if there is nothing stored within, it will be able to possess all things with security.

But many parents suffer this regarding their children: not wishing to whip them, nor to rebuke them with words, nor to grieve their own sons as they live disorderly and lawlessly, they have often seen them caught in the most disgraceful acts, dragged to court, and beheaded by the executioners. For when you do not train, when you do not discipline, having mingled himself with polluted and corrupted men, and having shared in their wickedness, he is brought under the common laws and is punished while all look on; and along with the misfortune, the shame becomes greater, with everyone pointing their fingers at the father after the former's execution, and making the marketplace inaccessible to him. For with what eyes will he be able to look at those who meet him after such disgrace and misfortune of his son? ^C How is it not absurd, when your son is energized by a demon, that you run to all the saints, and trouble those who dwell on the mountain tops, so that he might be released from that madness; yet when he is continually vexed by sin—which is more grievous than any demon—you do nothing more? And yet, to be vexed by a demon is not at all grave; for the demon is not entirely able to cast one into Gehenna; but if we are sober, this trial will bring us brilliant and manifest crowns, when we bear such insults with thanksgiving; but it is impossible for the man living in sin to ever be saved, but it is necessary that he be both despised here, and upon departing, be punished there forever.

And what excuse will you have then? Did I not, He says, settle the child for you from the beginning? Did I not set you over him as teacher, protector, curator, and lord? ^D Did I not put all his authority into your hands? Did I not command you to mold and regulate him while he was tender? What excuse, then, do you have, if you look on as he leaps away? For what would you say? That he is unruly and rough? But from the beginning, when he was easy to lead and very young, you ought to have seen all these things, to have reined him in, to have disciplined him with exactness, to have regulated him toward what is necessary, and to have checked the movements of his soul when the work was easier; you ought to have cut out the thorns when, the age being softer, they were more easily pulled up; and the passions, had they not been neglected and allowed to grow, would not have become difficult to manage. What defense could we have to speak, when God, whenever we are insulted by them, does not even spare their lives; for He says, *He who speaks evil of father or mother, let him die the death (Exod. 21. 17)*; but when He is insulted by them, do we not even endure to be indignant with them? I, He says, do not even ask that you kill the one who insults you; yet do you not endure even to sting with a word the one who tramples upon My laws? And where are these things worthy of pardon? Let us not, therefore, neglect our children, knowing that if they are well-disposed toward God, they will also be reputable and brilliant in the present life. For everyone respects and honors the man who lives with virtue and gentleness, even if he is poorer than all; just as they turn away from and hate the wicked man, even if he possesses much wealth; for those who neglect their children, even if they are otherwise gentle and moderate, will undergo the ultimate punishment for this sin.

And if you wish to know clearly that even if all our own affairs are well-managed, yet we neglect the salvation of our children, we will pay the ultimate penalty, attend with exactness to what is said: A certain priest existed among the Jews, a man who was otherwise moderate and gentle; Heli was his name: he became the father of two sons, and seeing them walking toward wickedness, he did not check or prevent them, or rather, he did check and prevent them, but did not do this with all diligence; he did not impose punishment, but tried by words and exhortations to lead them away from this wickedness; and he would continually say such words to them: "Do not, my children, do not act thus, for the report which I hear about you is not good." And yet, these steps were sufficient to recover them; but nevertheless, because he did not show the whole duty as he ought, he made God an enemy both to himself and to them; and having spared his children untimely, he lost his own salvation along with the children. Yet even so, you are ashamed, tell me, when the judge punishes your son and makes him more sober, and he requires an external correction, having lived with you for so long from the beginning? Do you not cover your face and vanish? Do you dare at all, tell me, to still be called a father, having thus betrayed your son, and not having brought to him the necessary support, but having looked on as he was corrupted by every wickedness? And if you see some runaway slave striking your child, you are indignant and angry and distressed, and you leap upon the sight of the one who struck him more fiercely than a wild beast; but when you see the devil everyday striking him, and demons leading him into sins, do you sleep, and are you not indignant?

^A

He indeed rendered both himself and others enemies of God; and because he spared his sons out of season, he destroyed both their salvation and his own. And besides, apart from the negligence in correcting his sons, God had nothing else to reproach the old man with. But if God so severely overthrew one who was a lesser sinner together with his entire house, will He send away those who have sinned more gravely unpunished? For if that priest, that elder, that noble man, who for twenty years had already presided over the Hebrew nation without fault, had nothing that could deliver him; but because he did not take exact account of his sons, he perished most miserably, and the guilt of this negligence overwhelmed all those [deeds] like a certain immense wave, and obscured all his righteous acts: what punishment will await us, who are far removed from his virtue, and not only do not look out for our own children, but also act more cruelly toward them than any barbarian? For just as one cannot flee to a defense and forgiveness for one’s own sins, so neither can parents for the delinquencies of their children; and rightly so. For if sin were innate in men by nature, one might rightly flee to a defense; but since we are both evil and good by choice, what plausible reason can he offer who permits his most beloved to be perverted and to become wicked? ^B Do not, therefore, leave riches for your children in such a way that you abandon virtue. For it is the extreme of foolishness not to make them masters of all wealth while they are alive, but to provide great license to their youthful [years] when they are dead. For while we are still living, we shall be able to demand accounts from them, and punish and restrain those who have used their means badly; but if, when we are dead, we suggest license along with the solitude of our own absence and their youth, we shall drive those miserable and wretched ones into infinite precipices. Do not, therefore, consider that we should leave them wealthy, but that we should leave them endowed with virtue. For if they have confidence in riches, they will care for nothing else, as those who can easily obscure their moral depravity with the abundance of money; but if they see themselves stripped of this consolation, they will strive for all [things], that they might obtain from virtue a great consolation for their poverty. Let us not, therefore, enter into private or public business before we have rightly formed their souls. If you yourselves educate your children well, they too will instruct theirs, and these again will teach their own; and so, proceeding until the advent of Christ, the thing will bring the entire reward for this to those who provided the root. For if you have educated your son well, so also will he [do for] his son, and he for his; and like a certain chain and series, an excellent life will always proceed, starting from you as the origin and root, and it will bring forth for you the fruits of the care taken for your descendants. Those fathers who neglect the moderation and temperance of their children are the murderers of their children; and they are more cruel to them for this reason, because this matter tends toward the ruin and death of the soul. Therefore, just as if you see a horse being driven toward a precipice, you insert the bit, and pulling back the reins, you restrain it by force, and whip it often—which is indeed a punishment, but still the mother of salvation—so ^C also act with your children when they commit faults: bind the sinner until you have placated God; do not send him away released, do not let him depart anymore to be bound by the wrath of God. For if you bind him, God will no longer bind him; but if you do not bind him, unspeakable bonds await him. "But he has paid the penalty," you say, "for a sufficiently long time." How long, tell me? One year, two, or three? But I do not seek the length of time, but the amendment of the soul. Show me this, then, if he is contrite, if he is changed, and the whole thing is finished; but if not this, time is of no use. For we do not seek whether the wound has been bound up often, but whether the binding has been of any use; and if indeed it has helped in a short time, let it be applied no more; but if it has brought no utility, let it be applied even after ten years. And let this be the limit, by which the bound one is released: namely, his own benefit. For nothing so commends one who holds authority as love for his subjects. For it is not only generation that makes a father, but also the love that follows generation. And if, where there is nature, affection is necessary, much more [is it] where there is grace. And you, O child, serve those who begot you as a servant. For what will you pay back to them, such as they [did] for you? For to beget them in turn is not possible. But even if a father reproaches your brother, be angry also with him; either as one concerned for your brother, or as one sympathizing with your parent. For if he who sinned sees that he is rebuked by the father, but has you as one who flatters him, he becomes lazier; and you, meanwhile, bring upon yourself not only damage to him, but also vengeance. For whoever prevents a wound from being treated, to him is due no less punishment than to him who inflicted it; nay, even greater. For it is not the same thing to wound, and to stand in the way so that what is wounded is not healed; for this brings about total death, whereas that does not entirely kill. Let us not, therefore, despise our parents; and if we should by chance despise them, fearing the magistrates, let us be altogether more reasonable; but if we spurn even these as ungodly, we shall never be able to escape the rebuke of conscience. But if we make little of this too and reject it, let us be better by fearing at least the opinion of men; but if we do not fear even this, the impending fear of the laws themselves will be able to amend us even against our will. For just as while the wicked are punished, others are corrected; so also while some perform something with praise, many are incited to an equal emulation. And a child indeed, so long as he is ruled by a terrible master, although he may conduct himself temperately and modestly, although he may live peacefully, yet that is nothing wonderful; for all impute that moderation of the adolescent to the fear of the pedagogue; but if, when that necessity has been removed, he remains in the same gravity of character, then all indeed ascribe the temperance of the earlier age to himself. Therefore it is necessary to seek and desire masters rather than fathers: for by the former it happens only to live, but by the latter [it happens to] live well. And do not glory that you have gotten a holy father: for this very thing will condemn you more, if, having a domestic example of nobility, you have acted toward yourself as unworthy of the virtue of your ancestors. It is a great good to have the hope of salvation in one’s own righteous deeds: for no friend will ever help there. For "if here," he says,

well-constituted, corrupted. He rose up at one time against his father, and having cast him out of his kingdom, his house, and his country, he seized everything in his stead; a man who neither respected nature, nor upbringing, nor age, nor things past, but was so utterly cruel and inhuman—a beast rather than a man—that he broke through all these barriers, leaped with shamelessness upon the very laws of nature, and filled everything with disturbance and turmoil. For if he did not wish to respect [him] as a father, yet he ought to have done so as an old man; and if he neglected his gray hairs, he ought to have been ashamed of him as a benefactor; and if not even so, [he should have respected him] as one who had done no wrong. ^A But the love of dominion cast out all this modesty and made the man a beast. And this blessed [father], who had begotten and nurtured him, wandered like a vagabond and an exile through the wilderness, like some displaced person in a foreign land, being punished by the evils ensuing therefrom; while he wallowed in his father's goods.

Things being in this state, and the camps being arrayed with him, and the cities being under the tyrant, a certain Hushai, a gentle man and a friend to David, remained, keeping his friendship toward him in the change of these times; and having seen him suddenly wandering through the wilderness, he rent his tunic, cast ash upon himself, sighed, and cried aloud a bitter and pitiful cry; and since he could do nothing [else], he brought as a solace that which comes from tears. For he was not a friend of the times nor of the power, but of virtue; therefore, when the rule had been overturned, he did not change his friendship. ^B Accordingly, David, seeing him doing these things, says to him: "Though you are a friend and sincerely disposed toward us, it profits us nothing; but what must be devised and considered so that our dire straits may be resolved, and I may find some way out of these calamities?" Having said this, he suggests a plan to him, such as this: "Go," he says, "to my son, and putting on the guise of a friend, scatter his counsels for me, and make the counsel of Ahithophel void." For this Ahithophel had gained control over the tyrant at that time, having ingratiated himself, and he was formidable in military matters, and formidable in strategizing for war and battle; wherefore David feared him more than the tyrant; so formidable was the man in his judgments. ^C Having heard this, Hushai was persuaded, and he reasoned nothing faint-hearted, nor unmanly; nor did he say: "What if I am caught? And what if my guise is stripped away and exposed? And what if the drama of this hypocrisy is detected? Ahithophel is formidable; perhaps he will expose even this and make it manifest, and I shall perish in vain and for nothing." Having considered none of these things, he leaped into the camp, having cast his all upon God, and let himself into the midst of the dangers. And when he stood by the city, seeing the tyrant riding up, he approached; but he, seeing him suddenly and being drunk with the love of rule, did not examine his circumstances accurately, but mocking and reproaching him, "Go," he says, "with your companion"—not even enduring to speak the name of the father, in the midst of great hatred. ^D What then does Hushai, undisturbed and untroubled, say? "When God was with him, I was minded to be with him; since He now stands with you, it is fitting to serve your interests." This puffed up the tyrant and made him swell, and without examining anything accurately (for a light man believes every word, and, having been overturned by the opposing [forces], he at once brings him into his intimate circle, and enrolls him among his foremost friends. But God was managing everything, being present and acting as strategist in what was happening. And then, a council having been proposed concerning the war, and some suggesting one thing and others another as to whether it was necessary to attack immediately or to delay a little, the formidable Ahithophel, having come forward, skilled in advising and bringing forth a judgment, suggested this counsel: "Let us attack," he says, "your father, who is now wretched and confounded, and by not granting him even a little [time], let us thus consume him; for if we attack him while he is now unprepared, there will be no labor for us." Hearing this, the tyrant calls also Hushai, who had defected to him by hypocrisy, and says: "Let us share our counsel with him also"; which was not according to human logic—to honor this man who had come suddenly in such a way and deem him worthy of trust, so as to deem him worthy of counseling even on such matters; but as I said before, when God acts as strategist, even difficult things become easy. 653 ^A And Hushai is brought in, and the tyrant gives him leave to speak, and bids him say what occurs to him.

What then does Hushai [say]? "Never," he says, "has Ahithophel so erred." Do you see the man's wisdom? He does not cast his judgment at him immediately, but with a eulogy. For having praised him first, as one who had counseled aptly in former times, he thus degrades the present judgment; as if to say: "I marvel how he has now erred; for this reasoning does not seem to me to be profitable. For if we attack now, your father, like some bear goaded to madness, full of rage and despairing of his own life, fighting with his anger at its height, will have no regard for his own safety, and will fall upon us with great vehemence; but if we should yield a little, we will attack with greater preparation, and with greater safety, and without toil, and with all ease, having taken him as if in a dragnet, we will thus return." Absalom praises this counsel and affirmed it to be more profitable for him. ^B Hushai said these things, wishing to give time to David, so that he might stand a little and catch his breath and gather armies. Thus, therefore, having cast out the counsel of Ahithophel, by way of certain secret men he sent word to David, and [told him] that the tyrant had ratified his [Hushai's] counsel, which was bringing victory to David. And so it even came to pass. For since those around the tyrant gave a little space, David, having made preparation, attacked, and set up the trophy. Which Ahithophel, seeing from his own great wisdom and formidable ability, and already perceiving the end from there, that this counsel was destruction for Absalom, not enduring the ruin resulting from it, went away, tied a noose, and hanged himself, and thus ended his life. ^C Therefore, concerning Ahithophel and Absalom, it is said: "His labor shall return upon his own head"; for the punishment descended upon the head of both. For the one, having used a noose, thus ended his life; but Absalom did not hang himself, but was hanging against his will, and he was not destroyed immediately, but, as in a court of law, he was first suspended and nailed to the wood, and with God bringing down the verdict from above, he hung for a long time, being scourged thereafter by his conscience.

ourt of law, he was first suspended and nailed to the wood, and with God bringing down the verdict from above, he hung for a long time, being scourged thereafter by his conscience. ^A And to know that this event did not happen by human design, but clearly through divine judgment, his hair bound him to the wood, and a brute animal delivered him; for ropes, he had his own hair; for a gallows, a tree; and for a soldier, a mule. Yet observe the clemency of God: He left him for a long time, inviting him to repentance, and making him experience the sweetness of a father. And surely, had he not been a beast and possessed a heart of stone, all these things would have sufficed to call him back from that untimely madness: the table, I say, where he ate salt with his father; the house, the assembly where he conversed with him; and all other things in which the parent was reconciled to him, though he was so guilty of such a murder. Besides these, there were other things adapted to soften him. For he heard that he was wandering as an exile and a fugitive, that he was suffering extreme troubles. But how did he not understand that, even if victory were obtained, he would live the most miserable of all lives, execrable and wicked for the sake of a trophy? ^B Added to this was his father, who was now old and had placed his hope at the very threshold, yet he waited not even a short time. Where are those now who deplore their own poverty? What, I ask, through what disease, through what sorrow are these things not more grievous? Yet this just man said nothing of this kind to himself, nor did he take it ill, saying: "I receive good rewards, I who meditate on the law of the Lord day and night; I who, having been placed in such great dignity a little before, was the most humble of all; I who spared my enemies, am delivered into the hands of a wicked boy." He said or thought nothing of this kind at all; but he bore all things wisely, having this unique consolation in the things that were befalling him, that he was firmly persuaded that all these things were happening with God's knowledge. And just as the three children in the furnace said: "And if not, be it known to thee, O king, that we will not worship thy gods, nor adore the golden statue which thou hast set up" (Dan. 3. 18). ^C But if someone had said to them, "And with what hope do you face death? What do you expect, or what do you hope for after death, after the fire?"—for there was not yet hope of the resurrection—they would have heard from them that "this is the greatest reward for us, that we die for God." So also this man considered it his highest solace that God, having foreseen these things, did not impede them. For if any lover desires a thousand times to be killed for the sake of the beloved, even if he hopes for nothing after his passing, it is much more fitting for us to endure these things not for the hope of a kingdom, nor for the hope of any future goods, but for the sake of God Himself; for to Him belongs glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily XXVIII

Let us not neglect the virtue of the soul, beloved. For what pain, I ask you, is it to remit anger to one who causes sorrow? It is a greater pain to remember an injury and not to be reconciled. What labor is it to curse no one? What difficulty is it to be freed from envy, contempt, and spite? What trouble is it to love one's neighbor? How great a labor is it not to swear? For often, held by anger and fury, we have affirmed by oath that we never wish to be reconciled to those who harm us; then, truly, when the anger is extinguished, wanting to be reconciled, we, held by the necessity of our oaths as if by a noose, do not want to do it. ^D Whence one of two things befalls us: that either, being reconciled, we forswear ourselves, or not being reconciled, we make ourselves liable to the punishments of hatred. For how is it not absurd, when we possess better garments than others, not to endure using the same ones continually, yet everywhere to drag the name of God recklessly and as chance affords? Nor, furthermore, does every sin bring the same punishment, but those that can be easily corrected bring us a greater penalty. For they who swear can plead no excuse, except contempt. I know indeed that I seem to be troublesome and burdensome from now on, as I seem to weary you with constant exhortation; but yet I do not cease, so that even if you revere this quasi-shamelessness of mine, you may desist from the evil habit of swearing. For if that wicked and cruel judge, having revered the importunity of the widow, changed his ways (Luke 18), much more should you do this, especially since I, in exhorting you, am doing this not for my own sake, but for your salvation. [index: entries preserved]

idquid fecerint, necesse omnino est perjurium constitui: quidquid enim fiat, alter ipsorum perjurii reus erit; quin prorsus ambo simul: idque qua ratione fiat, dicam; mirabile enim ^A you have sworn, and to the one who formerly forbade and cut off the oath, you have transferred the crime of perjury. For it is not only those who commit perjury, but also those who impose this necessity upon others, who are held accountable for the same crimes. For how is it not absurd that while one would not dare to call his own master by his proper name, nor do so lightly and as it happens, one nevertheless drags the Master of the angels about everywhere, simply and with such great contempt? Do you wish to learn how it is possible to be delivered from the evil habit of swearing? I will teach you a certain way, which if you perform, you will be utterly victorious. For whenever you see yourself or even others captured by this evil affliction, and they have been constantly reminded yet have not corrected themselves, order them to go to sleep without having supped; and impose this penalty upon yourself and them alike: a penalty which brings not loss, but gain. For the tongue, being constantly tormented in this way, and with no one to remind it, receives sufficient admonition; and even if we were more senseless than all others, by being reminded throughout the day of the magnitude of this torment, we shall have no need of further counsel and exhortation. For, he says, as a servant who is constantly examined will not be cleansed from the weal, so the one who swears and constantly addresses the name of God will not be cleansed from sin. Let us, therefore, persuade ourselves to flee the habit of oaths, and to make the transition to what is better. For even if I discoursed to you on this subject yesterday and the day before, yet I will not desist today, nor tomorrow, nor the day after, from advising these things. And why do I say tomorrow and the day after? Until I see you have corrected yourselves, I will not refrain. For to remind you constantly of the same things is not the fault of the speaker, but of the hearers who are in need of perpetual teaching. For what is more easy than not to swear? The correction is merely a habit, not a strain on the body. Let him who has anticipated and corrected himself rebuke the one who is lagging, so that he may stir him up all the more with taunts; let him who is lagging and has not yet corrected himself look at the one who has anticipated him, and let him strive to reach him quickly. And let no one say to me: "What then, if someone puts necessity upon us? What then, if he does not believe?" Most of all, indeed, where the law is transgressed, it is not necessary to speak of necessity; for there is one necessity that is unavoidable: not to offend God; nevertheless, I say these things for now, let us cut off the superfluous oaths, those made simply and without need, those in the home, those with friends, those with servants; and if you take these away, you will have no need of me regarding the others anymore; for the very mouth that has learned to fear and flee from oaths will not, even if someone were to compel it ten thousand times, accept thereafter to fall into that habit. A certain orator from the outside world is said, by some irrational habit, to have continually moved his right shoulder while walking; but nevertheless, he became master of the habit, and having sharpened knives on both sides, he placed them on his shoulders so that by the fear of being cut, he would discipline the moving limb. Do you also do this with your tongue, and instead of a knife, place upon it the fear of punishment; and you will be completely victorious. For it is impossible, impossible, for those who are concerned and diligent, and who make this their work, to be defeated. For let there be one ^{B C D} path. For what apology will we have then, and what forgiveness, when after such great admonition, we persist in the evils of oaths? How then shall we ask for deliverance from the terrible things that possess us, having failed to accomplish one commandment? And how shall we look forward to a beneficial change? And how shall we pray? With what tongue shall we call upon God? For how is it not absurd when the king commands, even to bear the most difficult things; but when God legislates nothing difficult or hard, to despise Him, and to plead an evil habit? Do not, I beseech you, let us despise our own salvation to such a degree; let us fear God as we fear a man. For it is absurd to keep the king’s laws with precision, but to despise those that are divine and have come down from the heavens without reason. For what reason does God destroy not only the one who swore but his house by the sickle? Because God wishes that the punishments for the most grievous sins remain perpetual, so that all who come after may be corrected. For indeed, it is necessary for the perjurer who has died to be buried and delivered into the folds of the earth. So then, that the wickedness might not be buried along with the body, He made the house a heap, so that all who pass by seeing it, and learning the cause of the destruction, may flee from the imitation of sin. This also happened in the case of Sodom; for since they were inflamed in their desire for one another, the very nature of the earth was also inflamed, and more clearly than any voice, the appearance of the earth admonishes all generations that come after, all but shouting and saying: "Do not do such things, so that you do not suffer such things." What are you doing, O man? Do you swear at the holy table, and where Christ lies sacrificed, there do you sacrifice your brother? And robbers indeed sacrifice on the roads; but you sacrifice your son before the mother, performing a murder more accursed than Cain’s? For he sacrificed his brother in the desert for the sake of the present death; but you sacrifice your brother in the midst of the church for the sake of the coming death? For has the church come into being for this reason, that we should swear? It has come into being so that we should pray. For has the holy table stood for this reason, that we should demand oaths? It has stood so that we may loose our sins, not so that we may bind them. But you, if nothing else, at least revere the very book that you hold out for an oath, and the Gospel, which as you take into your hands you command to swear, having opened it and heard what Christ commands therein concerning oaths, shudder and desist. What, then, does He say there concerning oaths? "But I say to you, do not swear at all"; but you, do you make an oath out of the law that forbids you to swear? O depth of insolence! O depth of lawlessness! For you do the same thing as if someone, having taken the lawgiver who forbids murder as his ally, were to command someone to become a slayer. Just as, therefore, when a fight has occurred, we often bear the insults nobly, and we say to the one who is insulting: "What shall I do to you? That person has grieved me, your protector; he holds my hands"; and this suffices for consolation; so also, whenever you are about to make someone swear, restrain yourself and prevent it, and say to the one who is about to swear: "What shall I do to you? For God has commanded not to swear, nor to demand an oath; He holds my hands now." This suffices both for the honor of the Lawgiver, and for your own safety, and for the fear of the one about to swear. Give me...

then, on departing hence, the power to say: "There is no city to be seen anywhere that is like Antioch." For the men inhabiting that city would choose to have their tongues cut out sooner than let an oath pass their lips. For if one who gains over but one or two souls is to receive so great a reward from God, what rewards shall they not attain who instruct the whole world? ^A But perhaps your tongue often rushes to utter that wicked word out of habit. Verily, when it takes the impulse, before you bring the word forth, bite your tongue hard all around with your teeth. It is better for it to be flowing with blood now than, when you wish for a drop of water then, to be unable even then to find a consolation. Do you not perceive that you are being carried to a precipice and are casting yourself into the depths of ultimate ruin? What are you doing, O man, reviling your Savior and Benefactor, your Protector and Guardian? For you do not make the matter lighter if you blaspheme, do you? Nay, you are increasing it and making the pain more bitter. For this very reason the devil brings in countless evils, that he may cast you down into that pit; and if he sees you uttering curses, he easily increases the pain and makes it greater, so that you may be stung and struggle again. But if he sees you bearing them bravely, and that the more grievous the evil becomes, the more you thank God, he immediately retreats, as one who henceforth lies in wait in vain and to no purpose. And just as a dog standing before a table, if it sees a man eating and repeatedly throwing something from the food set on the table, stays persistently; but if it has stood there once and twice and gone away empty-handed, it desists, as waiting in vain and to no purpose: in the same way, the devil is constantly gaping toward us. If you throw him a blasphemous word as if to a dog, he snatches it up and will lie in wait again. But if you remain thankful, you will starve him to death, and quickly drive him away and compel him to slink off. And that these things are so, I will demonstrate to you by telling an ancient story. When enemies once invaded the Jews, and Jonathan (for this was the son of Saul) was slaughtering some and putting others to flight, Saul, his father, desiring to rouse the army further against the rest, and to ensure they did not desist before they overcame everyone, did the opposite of what he wished, having sworn an oath that no one should taste bread until he had taken vengeance on his enemies (1 Reg. 14. 24 sqq.). What, then, could be more foolish than this? For when he ought to have refreshed his soldiers, who were exhausted by toil and covered with wounds, and sent them fresher against the enemies, he treated them more harshly than the enemies themselves, delivering them to a most grievous famine through the necessity of an oath. For it is dangerous for anyone to swear concerning himself—for we are often hindered by the circumstances of events—but to bind the will of others to the necessity of one's own oaths is far more dangerous; that, which Saul then did, without consideration. The army was passing through a wood having a honeycomb, ^B and the honeycomb was before the face of the people; and the people entered into the honeycomb, and were passing by, speaking. Do you see what a chasm it was? An improvised table, so that the ease of approach, the sweetness of the food, and the hope of escaping notice, invited them to the transgression of their oaths. For Jonathan, who had not heard his father swearing, stretched out the tip of the rod that was in his hand, and dipped it into the honeycomb of honey, and turned his hand to his mouth, and his eyes grew bright (1 Reg. 14. 27). Do you see whom the wicked one drove to perjury? Not one of the soldiers, but the son of the king himself, who had sworn. For he did not wish to commit perjury only, but was also preparing for the slaughter of his son, and was striving to divide nature itself against itself; and what he had once done regarding Jephthah, this he hoped to do subsequently. For the latter, having promised God that he would slaughter the first person to meet him after the victory of the war, fell into the slaughter of his daughter; for he sacrificed his little daughter who first met him (Judic. 11). And why do I speak of the slaughter of a son? For that wicked one devised how to find a slaughter once again more heinous than this. For if he had sinned knowingly, and had been slaughtered, it would have been the slaughter of a son only; but now, having transgressed out of ignorance (for he heard not the oaths), he would have brought a double grief upon his father. Afterwards, one of the soldiers having caught sight of him, says: "Your father swore an oath to the people, that whoever ate bread this day [shall die], and the people were faint." And Jonathan said: "My father has caused trouble and ruined everyone" (1 Reg. 14. 28, 29). Upon the breaking of the oath, therefore, all were silent, and no one dared bring the guilty party into the midst. And this became no small crime: for they are not only the perjurers, but also those who are conscious of it and conceal it who share in the crimes. And the priest said: "Let us draw near to God." And Saul consulted God: "Shall I go down after the foreigners, and will you deliver them into my hands?" And the Lord did not answer him in that day. Consider the kindness and gentleness of the most merciful God. For He did not send down lightning, nor did He shake the earth; but what friends do for friends if they have been insulted, this the Lord did for His servant. And Saul said: "Bring all the tribes of the people, and see through whom this sin happened today. The Lord, the Savior of Israel, lives, because if it answers against Jonathan my son, he shall die" (Ibid. v. 38, 39). And not yet having discovered who had sinned, he passed judgment; and not knowing the guilty party, he brought down a sentence, and the father became the executioner of his son, and before examination he pronounced the sentence of condemnation. And what is the need of many words? He committed the matter to lots. And Saul said: "Cast lots between me and Jonathan." And Saul said to Jonathan: "Tell me what you have done?" And Jonathan, "Tasting, I tasted," he said, "with the tip of the rod that I had in my hand a little honey, and lo, I die" (1 Reg. 14. 42, 43). Whom would these words not have broken? Whom would they not have led to mercy? Consider what a storm of grief he endured from Saul, when his own bowels were being rent, and on either side a most deep chasm appeared. And yet not even so was he corrected; but what does he say? "May God do this to me, and may He add this, that thou shalt die today." And the people said to Saul: "May God do this to us, and may He add this, if he who wrought the great salvation of Israel [shall die]. The Lord lives, if a hair of his head shall fall to the ground, because he wrought the mercy of God this day." Behold, the people swore a second time, and swore back to the king. Necessity now tears apart...

must offer to God, and he adds this: if he who worked a great salvation in Israel should die, as the Lord lives, not a hair of his head shall fall to the earth, because of the mercy that God wrought this day (Ibid. vv. 44, 45). Behold, the people also swore, and swore to the contrary. The oath must now be broken; for it is impossible for all these men to keep their oath. For if the king had wished to resist and proceed with the oath, the whole people would have resisted, and a most cruel tyranny would have ensued; and again, if the youth had wished to spare his own life and surrender himself to the army, he would have immediately become a parricide. Do you see both tyranny and child-murder and parricide and civil war and battle and slaughter and blood and ten thousand corpses from a single oath being laid out? Do you see what an abyss of destruction that oath prepared? In order, then, that we may not suffer things similar to them, let us withdraw from the wicked habit of oaths, so that we may draw upon ourselves the favor of God, and pass through the present life securely, and attain to the goods that are to come, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is the glory and the power, with the Father and the most holy Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

Homily XXIX. On non-resentment, long-suffering, and the remembrance of wrongs.

^B Whom else ought one to bring into the middle, those of us desiring to discourse about leniency, beloved, than him who received testimony from on high, and was especially admired for this very thing? For He says: I have found David, the son of Jesse, a man after my own heart (Acts 13:22); who not only provided food and drink to his enemies, but also frequently snatched those in danger from death. For Saul so hated and turned away from him, after countless benefits, after splendid trophies, and the salvation gained through Goliath, that he could not even bear to remember his name. For when a feast was once at hand, because he had woven a certain deceit against him and stitched together a grievous plot, and did not see him arrive, Where, he says, is the son of Jesse? (1 Kings 20:27)? And having no wickedness to speak of, he brought the baseness of his lineage into the middle, expecting by this to darken his brilliance. ^C But he who found him sleeping inside the cave did not call him the son of Kish, but by a title of honor: For I will not lay my hand, he says, upon the Lord’s anointed (1 Kings 26:11): so pure was he of anger and all remembrance of wrongs. He calls the one who had wronged him so much the Lord’s anointed, the one thirsting for his blood, the one who tried many times after countless benefits to destroy him. For he did not consider what that man deserved to suffer, but he considered what it was becoming for himself to do and to say. What is this? Having caught the enemy as if in a prison, held fast by a triple bond—by the confinement of the place, by the desertion of those who would help, and by the necessity of sleep—do you demand neither justice nor vengeance of him, but say, "I will not lay my hand upon the Lord’s anointed"? Yes, he says; for I consider now not what this man is worthy to suffer, but what it befits me to do. ^D You, for your part, perhaps admire him because he remembered none of the past evils; but I am astonished at him for something else, by far greater. What, indeed, is that? That not even the fear of the future pushed him to make away with the enemy. For he knew clearly that, having escaped his hands, he would stand against him again; but he chose rather to endanger himself by releasing the one who had wronged him, than by providing for his own security to make away with the foe; and neither the memory of the past, nor the fear of the future, nor the exhortation of the strategist, nor the solitude of the place, nor the ease of the slaughter, nor anything else roused him to murder, but as though it were some benefactor and one who had done him great good, so he spared the enemy and one who had grieved him, and having cut off the skirt of his garment and taken away the water flask, having gone far off and stood, he shouted and showed these to the one who had been saved; not doing this for display or vainglory, but wishing to persuade him through deeds that he was suspecting him as an enemy in vain and to no purpose, and through this eagerly drawing him toward friendship. For simply not to take vengeance on an enemy who has wronged one is nothing wonderful; but to have in one’s hands and be empowered to kill a man who has been benefited with many and great benefits, and then in return for those benefits has tried to kill his benefactor once and twice and many times, and to let him go and rescue him from the plots of others, and this when he is about to set upon him again—what height of philosophy could one leave beyond this?

And what excess of wickedness could the things shown by Saul toward David have? That when the enemies had just been driven off by him, and the city had recovered itself, and everyone was offering victory sacrifices, he himself tried to destroy the benefactor and savior and cause of all those goods. And not even the argument of the benefit restrained that mad and demented man, but he threw [a spear] once and twice and many times, wishing to destroy him, and gave such as these as the rewards in return for those dangers. For David was playing with his hand, he says, and the spear was in Saul’s hand; and Saul lifted the spear and said: If I strike at David. And David swerved from his presence, and he struck the spear into the wall (1 Kings 19:9, 10). Who, even of those who know how to live very philosophically, would these things not have brought into anger? But this man chose to flee rather, and to fall from his father’s house, and to be a wanderer and to flee, and to be distressed to provide his necessary food, than to become the cause of slaughter for the king. For he did not consider how he might avenge himself, but how he might rid that man of the passion. Because of this, he withdrew himself from the eyes of the enemy, so that he might subside the arrogance and settle the inflammation and soothe the envy. It is better for me, he says, to be distressed and suffer ten thousand terrible things, than for this man to be judged before God for an unjust slaughter. What, therefore, could be equal to that noble and adamant soul, that instead of wealth he chose poverty, and instead of country, exile, and labors and dangers instead of...

^A rest and safety? Who would not have been persuaded ^B to cast away that fierce and savage hatred against him when he saw him thus transformed from such malice? But that wicked and inhuman man was not led by any of these things to be moved toward kindness; but he pursued and went around everywhere, seeking him who had offered no injury, and who, though suffering the greatest injury, had performed infinite good deeds for him. And the imprudent man then fell into the very nets of David. For, “There was,” he says, “a cave there, and Saul entered to relieve himself: David and his men were sitting in the interior of the cave.” And the men of David said to him, “Behold the day, as the Lord said, I will deliver your enemy into your hands, and you shall do to him what is pleasing in your eyes.” And David rose, and took away the hem of Saul’s cloak secretly. And after these things ^C David’s heart smote him because he had taken away the hem of the cloak, and he said to his men, “The Lord forbid that I should do this thing to my master, to lay my hand upon him, for he is the Lord’s anointed; even if I myself wished it, never would He permit me to do this, nor let me reach such a sin.” What could be milder than this soul? Should we call this man a human, who displayed an angelic life in human nature? But divine laws would not suffer it. For who, I ask you, would readily wish to pray for such things from God? And what am I saying, to pray? Who indeed would easily endure not to pray against those causing him annoyance? You have seen David’s nets set, and the prey caught, the hunter standing, and everyone urging ^D him to plunge the sword into the enemy’s chest? Look now further at his philosophical mindset; look at the struggle for me, the victory, the trophy. For that cave was a kind of stadium, and a struggle occurred that was wonderful and incredible to relate. For David struggled, anger acted as the contender, Saul was placed as the prize of the contest, and God was the judge. For the war was not only against himself and his own desire, but also against the soldiers who were present. For if he had wished in his mind to be moderate and to spare him who had caused the harm, it was natural that he should fear them, lest perhaps they should massacre him in the cave as a destroyer and betrayer of their own salvation, and one who was sparing the common enemy. For it was probable that they would say such things in their indignation: “We have become wanderers and exiles, driven from home, country, and all other things, and have become partakers of all your troubles: and you intend to let go the author of these evils when he is delivered into your hands, so that we may never have room to breathe from calamities? And you seek to save the enemy so that you may betray your friends? And how are these things fair? For if you neglect your own salvation, at least spare our life. Do the past things not cause you pain, neither are you mindful of the evils you have suffered from him? At least kill him out of fear of the future, lest we suffer graver things.” But that just man took note of nothing of these things; he gazed upon one thing alone: how he might be adorned with a crown of clemency. Nor would it have been as wonderful if he were existing alone and without companions and had spared the person attacking him, as it is now that he did this while others were present: others, I say, not men who were fair and moderate, but soldiers and those taught to wage war, and who had already been brought to despair by many difficulties, from which they were desiring to breathe a little; and who were not ignorant that the dissolution of all their evils lay in the death of the enemy; nor of the dissolution of evils alone, but also of the attainment of many good things: for nothing hindered the kingdom from passing to him once that man was killed. Yet, since there were so many things that were provoking the soldiers, that noble man was so powerful that he overcame all of them and persuaded them to spare the enemy. It is a great thing for someone to have overcome his own affections; but it is far greater to have been able to persuade others also to adopt the same sentiment. Moreover, there are many enemies who, through philosophy, seem to have moderate affections, who, although they themselves do not endure to kill an enemy, yet when he is to be killed by others, do not wish to prevent it. Not so David; but just as if he had received some deposit for which he had to give an account, so did he not only not touch the enemy himself, but also forbade his companions who wished to kill him, becoming instead of an enemy a bodyguard and the best protector of his body. Therefore, no one would be wrong to say that David rather than Saul had fallen into danger at that time. For he sustained no common struggle, striving in every way to free him from the treachery of those men: and he would not have feared so much if he himself had been about to be slaughtered, as he feared lest any of the soldiers, indulging in anger, should destroy the man. For this reason he also composed such a defense: and they were the accusers, yet the sleeping man was being accused; but the enemy was acting as the defender: and God was judging, and was confirming by His own authority the verdict of David. For he would not have been able to overcome those raging ones without the nod of God; but it was the grace of God that sat upon his lips, and added to those words a certain power of persuasion. Is it not from this that one might most of all admire him for the greatness of his soul, that having caught the enemy in the midst of the soldiers, when he was sleeping and remaining motionless and could do nothing, he not only did not kill him himself, but also prevented his companions who wished to kill him? How is it likely that they would not then obey him, and have such benevolence toward him? For if they had possessed even infinite lives afterward, would they not all have willingly expended them for their commander, when they had learned by the event, from the solicitude he showed for the enemy, his benevolence toward his own people? For one who is mild and gentle toward those by whom he is caused annoyance, would he not be such even more toward those who are favorably disposed toward him? Would one not opportunely show from this that David erected a greater trophy when he spared Saul than when he struck down Goliath and cut off the barbarian’s head? For this was a more magnificent victory and a more glorious trophy. For there, he needed both a sling and stones and a battle line; but here all things were accomplished by reason, and a victory was prepared without weapons, and he erected an unbloody trophy. After, therefore, he had procured for himself this glorious and admirable victory, Saul, the subject of these contests, at last rose from his sleep, and went out of the cave, ignorant of everything that had been done concerning him. But David also went out after him, with eyes henceforth

looking toward heaven; he went out, not bearing the head of a barbarian, but a soul mortified and anger unnerved, having inflicted ^A ten thousand wounds upon the enemy, having saved Saul, and having pierced the enemy truly, the devil, with many wounds. He went out having his right hand crowned along with the head—that right hand which was powerful enough to draw the sword pure and to show the blade untainted by blood to God, and to resist such a great impetuosity of anger. He went out with as much splendor as the three children from the furnace. For just as the fire did not burn them, so the pyre of anger did not kindle him. And for them, the fire that was outside did nothing; but this man, having the coals burning within, and the devil stoking the furnace from without, from the sight of the enemy, from the exhortation of the soldiers, from the ease of accomplishing the slaughter, from the solitude of those who might assist, from the memory of past evils, from the agony of things to come (for this kindled the flame brighter than vine-twigs ^B and pitch and tow, and all the things that lit the Babylonian furnace)—yet he was not inflamed, nor did he suffer anything of that sort that was to be expected, but went out pure and untouched. David, therefore, having gone out after Saul, cried out saying: My lord the king. And Saul looked behind him, and David bowed his face to the ground and did obeisance to him (1 Reg. 24. 9). Does this bring less praise for saving the enemy? That he, having saved him, himself bows down to the one saved, and calls him king, and names himself servant, and does everything so as to calm his temper and arrogance, and to appease his anger and remove his envy. But let us hear the defense itself: Why do you listen to the words of the people who say: Behold, David seeks thy soul? Behold, thy eyes have seen today how the Lord delivered thee into my hands in the cave, ^C and I would not kill thee, but spared thee, and said: I will not put my hand against my lord, for he is the Lord’s anointed; and behold, the skirt of thy robe is in my hand, which I took off, and did not kill thee. For I would not, if I had not been near, he says, and stood close to thy body, have cut off a part of the garment. And indeed, if he had not cut it, he had no other way to convince the enemy. For how could he who was warring with such benefits against one who had done no wrong suspect that another, having been wronged and having the wrongdoer in his hands, had spared him? Now, however, he provided an indisputable proof of his own providence, and calls the enemy himself both judge and witness of his own care, saying thus: Know and see today, that there is no faithlessness in my hand; and thou art binding my soul to take it. So devoid was he of pride and clean of all vainglory, and he looked to one thing only, the judgment of God; for he says, ^D The Lord judge between me and thee. And he said this, not wishing the man to be punished, nor to exact retribution from him, but to cause fear by the memory of the coming judgment; for he would not have dared to call upon the incorruptible judge, and to bring the case before him, if he had not been very sure that he was clean of all plotting and participation in it. Who would not be struck with wonder, who would not marvel at that noble and adamantine soul, that having many and great benefits to enumerate to Saul—for he could, if he had wished, say: "When the barbarian war, like some deluge, was about to sweep away the entire city, when you were struck with terror and afraid, and were expecting to die each day, I came forward, though no one compelled me, and though you were hindering and restraining me, I did not yield, but leaped forward before all the others, and received the adversary, and cut off his head; and like the force of some torrent I checked the inroad of those barbarians, and caused the city which was shaking to stand; and because of me, you possess the kingdom and your life, and the rest all possess, along with their lives, the city and their houses and their children and their wives"; and after that, again, other wars which he brought to a successful conclusion, no less than that one; and that once and twice and many times when he attempted to kill him, and cast his spear at his head, he did not hold a grudge; and other things far more and greater than these. But he said none of these things, but makes his defense from the events that happened that very day, saying only thus: Know and see today, that there is no malice nor faithlessness in my hand; and thou art binding my soul to take it. What words would such things not break? That he did not want to reproach him with his benefits, but to persuade him only that he belongs to those who love and care, not to those who plot and wage war. And you, therefore, when you have taken your enemy into your hands, do not consider how you may avenge yourself and send him away washed in ten thousand insults, but how you may heal him, how you may lead him back to gentleness, and do not desist from doing and saying everything before you succeed with self-control against his cruelty. Which is what David also did; seeing the enemy arming himself against his own salvation, and moving everything for this reason, not only did he not become wild, but he came to even greater sympathy; and by how much the more he plotted, by that much the more did he weep for him, and did not desist from doing everything until he caused even him to offer a defense with tears and lamentations. For since he heard him say: My lord the king, Saul could not refrain from hearing this voice without tears, but he wailed, and let out a bitter cry, and lamented loudly, and said: Thou art more righteous than I; for thou hast returned good to me, instead of the plotting, instead of the slaughter, instead of those ten thousand evils; I, however, have returned evil to thee; and not even so did I become better, but after those benefits I persisted in wickedness. And not even so did you change, but remained keeping your own manner, and again did good to us who were plotting. And you have told me today what good things you did for me; how the Lord shut me up into your hands, and you did not kill me. What could be more blessed than David, who in a brief moment of time thus transformed the enemy, and having taken a soul thirsty for blood and slaughter, plunged it into sudden lamentations and wailing? I do not admire Moses so much, that from a steep rock he brought forth fountains of water, as I admire this man, that from

^A such eyes he drew forth fountains of tears. For he conquered nature; this man, however, surpassed free will. He struck the rock with a staff; this man struck the heart with a word, not to bring grief, but to render it pure and gentle.

As much, therefore, as I extol him for his own proper gentleness, I admire this man all the more for the change in Saul. For it is a much smaller matter to master one's own passions than to conquer the fury of others, to calm a heart swelling with anger, and from such a tempest to cause such a calm, and to fill with warm tears eyes from which homicide flashed. And this is full of stupor and miracle. For if Saul had been a righteous and moderate man, it would not have been a great task to bring him back to his own virtue; but to affect one who had been brutalized and had advanced to extreme wickedness, and was even then hastening to slaughter, in a brief moment of time, so as to vomit forth all that bitterness from his soul—whom would this not overshadow among all who have ever shone in the doctrine of philosophy?

It is worthy of the highest praise and admiration that he did not plunge his sword into him, nor amputate the hostile head; but that he changed his very free will, and rendered it better, and brought it back to its proper gentleness—what, I ask, could be left to complete the height of philosophy? But most men not only abstain from the company of their enemies, they do not even wish to look upon their faces or hear their voice. But David did not act thus; rather, he preserved his enemy and honored him first, ^B addressing him in this manner: "My lord the king." And not only this, but falling onto his face, he adored him; and being honored by him, while he said to him, "My son David" (1 Sam. xxiv. 17), he again showed greater honor, saying, "Your servant, my lord the king." Who could call this anything but the greatest gentleness? He, having been treated with benefits up to his very life, acknowledged his benefactor as a relative; this man, who had shown the benefits, calls the one upon whom he had conferred the benefits his master. "He called me son," he says; "I, indeed, am satisfied and content if you hold me as a servant; only that you lay aside your wrath, only that you suspect no evil from me, and that you do not deem me an insidiator or an enemy." And see how much he gained. For before he had said this, that man did not refrain from hearing this voice without tears, but wept bitterly; declaring by his tears the health of soul and the wisdom that David had instilled.

How many crowns is David not worthy of, when he so surpassed Saul by his own gentleness and modesty, that he persuaded him to condemn his own cruelty and to celebrate his virtue? "For if," he says, "one finds his enemy in a state of tribulation and lets him go on a good path, the Lord will repay him with good, just as you have done with me this day. And behold, I know that you shall surely reign, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand. And now, swear to me by the Lord, that you will not destroy my seed after me, and that you will not blot out my name from the house of my father" (1 Sam. xxiv. 20-22). And whence, I ask, do you know this? The armies are within your power; the wealth, arms, cities, horses, soldiers, and in sum the entire force of the royal apparatus are yours; this man, on the contrary, is deserted and naked, having neither city, nor house, nor family. ^C Whence, therefore, tell me, do you speak these things? Clearly, from the very morals of David. For he would not have conquered one so armed and surrounded with such power, naked and an exile and deserted, had he not had God as his helper; furthermore, he who has God with him is more powerful than all.

Do you see to what philosophy Saul was led after his deceptions? Do you see how it is possible for one to spew out all wickedness, and being changed, to return to better things? Concerning how many crowns is David worthy in every one of these words? For although the mouth of Saul sounded these things, yet the wisdom of David had instilled them into his soul: "Swear to me by the Lord, that you will not destroy my seed after me, and that you will not blot out my name from the house of my father." The king now offers prayers to a private citizen; and, girt with the diadem, he acts the supplicant for his children, asking the exile and demanding an oath, not distrusting his morals, but considering how many evils he had inflicted upon him. "Swear to me that you will not destroy my seed after me." He leaves his enemy as a guardian for his children, and commits his own descendants into his hands; he all but takes hold of their right hand with these words, and introduces God as a mediator. What, therefore, did David do? Did he use dissimulation or irony even slightly for these things? By no means, but he immediately nodded assent, and granted what was asked, and when Saul was dead, he not only did not kill them, but even provided more then than he had promised. For his son, when he was lame and weak in his legs, he brought into his own house, and made him a sharer of his table, and deemed him worthy of the highest honor; nor did he blush, nor was he ashamed, nor did he judge it to degrade the royal table to have the boy limping; but in this he rather pleased himself and boasted. For who of those who were dining with him, while seeing the son of Saul, who had inflicted so many evils on David, being held in such honor by him—even if he were harsher than all wild beasts—would not, suffused with shame and blushing, return to grace with all his enemies? For if he had ordered food to be given to him elsewhere, and had ordained a fixed measure of sustenance, it would have been very great; but to receive him at his own table is of a certain singular philosophy. For most men not only take vengeance on living enemies, but even when they are dead, they pour out the wrath which they had against them upon their children. But not so David; rather, he both preserved the living enemy and, when he was dead, showed to his children the benevolence which he had borne towards him. What could be more blessed than this man? For not only did he spare him when he saw his enemy under his feet, lying more wretchedly than a captive; but even after this salvation, he refrained

^A from mentioning his past sins, and those who insulted him he avenged not—though that innocent one, having suffered so much, and anticipating even greater and more grievous evils to befall him, nevertheless showed such mercy toward his enemy’s salvation, that he chose to hazard himself and live in fear and trembling, rather than justly slay him who was to cause him countless troubles? To commit no injury is indeed excellent; but it is far more excellent for a noble soul, even when injured, not to retaliate. Such, then, was David. And yet the Law at that time provided this measure, commanding an eye for an eye, and a tooth for an tooth, and what was done was no transgression; but so philosophical ^B was David, that he not only did not transgress the Law, but even exceeded it by a great margin, and leaped beyond the boundaries, as the saying goes. For he did not deem it sufficient for virtue if he did not also overshoot the commandments. But we are required not only to do this—not to pay back evil—but also to do good; for, "Pray," he says, "for those who spitefully use you; do good to those who hate you" (Matt. 5:44). What excuse, then, shall we have, or what defense, after the coming of Christ, if we do not reach the measure of those who lived under the Old Testament, and that too when much greater abundance is required of us? For, "Unless your righteousness," he says, "exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. 5:20). ^C For just as the one who performs the same acts under the Law is not the equal of one who lived before the Law, so neither is he who is under grace the equal of him who lived under the Law—or rather of him who lived before the Law—but from the time itself, a great difference arises. ^D When I ponder the goodness, and the sympathy, and the tender affection of our Lord Jesus Christ, I am dizzy and tremble and am seized with astonishment: how even upon the cross itself He prayed for those who were crucifying Him; what could be equal to this? And both the robbers at the beginning mocked Him, but when the grateful one came to reflection and said, "Remember me, Lord," He opened the paradise to him before all others. And He weeps over those who are about to destroy Him, and is troubled and inwardly moved seeing the traitor, not because He was about to be crucified, but because that man was perishing. He was troubled, therefore, foreknowing the noose, the punishment after the noose, and knowing his wickedness, yet until the final hour He ministered to him and sought to turn him back. But He even kissed the traitor, providing for us a pattern and example of goodness and long-suffering, the good Master. For, "Judas," He says, "are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" Who would not have been softened, who would not have been moved by this voice? What beast, what heart of stone? But not that wretched man. For He did not say: "O polluted and most wicked and traitor, are these the rewards you return to us for such great benefits?" But how? By placing the name "Judas," the very name that was more of a lament and a calling back, not an expression of anger. And He did not say, "your teacher," "your master," "your benefactor," but, "Are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" For if He were not Teacher, nor Master, the One so gently, the One so unfeignedly disposed toward you, as even in the time of the betrayal to kiss you, are you betraying Him? And toward the traitor so, as has been said; but toward those who came with swords and clubs, how? And what could be gentler than the words spoken to them? For being able to destroy them all at once, He did nothing of the sort, but speaks to them in a way intended to put them to shame, saying: "Why have you come out as against a robber with swords and clubs?" And having cast them backward, since they remained senseless, He willingly gave Himself up again, and endured them binding His holy hands, He who was able to strike all and cast them down. Who will utter the mighty acts of the Lord, and make all His praises heard? Let us imitate

787 S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 788 ^A re- penses? But how? O Judas, usurping a proper name, which was rather that of one who pities and recalls, not of one who is angry. Nor did He say, "O my teacher, O my Lord, O my benefactor"; but, "Do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?" For even if He had not been Master, nor Lord, towards you so mild in spirit was He affected, that in the very time of the betrayal He was kissed; do you betray Him with a kiss? And thus indeed He behaved towards the betrayer; but towards those who attacked Him with swords and clubs, how? What could be more mild than the words uttered by Him? For when it was in His power to destroy them all, He compels them in the manner of one exhorted: "Why have you come out," He says, "as against a robber, with swords and clubs?" And when He had cast them back, and they were stunned, again He voluntarily yielded Himself, and seeing His holy hands bound in chains, He bore it patiently, when it was in His power to ^B put them all to flight, or prostrate them on the ground. Who shall tell the powers of the Lord, shall make all His praises heard? And we, brothers, let us emulate His tolerance, His meekness, His humility. "For learn," He says, "from Me, for I am meek and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls." Therefore, Paul also puts these things saying: "Bless those who persecute you," namely, those who in any way waylay you. Nor did He say, "Do not be mindful of injuries, do not avenge yourselves," but, what is much greater, He requires, saying, "Bless." For indeed, to forget injury, to refrain from vengeance, is of a philosopher; but this, of an angel. But after He had said, "Bless," He subjoined, "And do not curse," so that we might not do both, but the former only, for those who persecute us procure for us a reward. But if you are vigilant, you shall receive another reward besides. For while he shall prepare for you a crown from the persecution, you shall prepare for your own self a reward from the blessing towards him, exhibiting the greatest proof of love towards Christ. Therefore, to those who afflict us with insults of any kind, who persecute us, who harm us by their deeds, that spiritual doctor commands us to render the contrary; and after He commanded to bless them above, progressing further, He also exhorts us to perform deeds: "Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep" (Rom. 12:15). For since it is possible that someone may bless and abstain from cursing, yet not do so out of love, He ^C wills us to burn also with love: therefore He added that command also, so that we may not only bless, but also sympathize, if ever we see them going through adversities. For nothing so conciliates love as making joy and sorrow common among one another. For hear what Peter says to Christ: "If my brother sins against me, how many times shall I forgive him? Up to seven times?" (Matt. 18:21). He simultaneously asks and promises; and before he learns, he gives liberally. For when he had rightly perceived the mind of the Master, that it was inclined rather to clemency, wishing to please the Master, he says: "Up to seven times?" Then, that you may know what is the difference between man and God; and how the liberality of a disciple, even how far it may reach, when compared with the abundance of the Master, is viler than all poverty; and as a drop is to an infinite sea, so is our goodness compared to His immense benignity: when he had said, "seven times," and thought he had offered to give much and exhibited singular liberality, Christ says: "I do not say, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven" (Ibid. v. 22): which makes four hundred and ninety. And do not think this command is difficult: for if you are prepared to despise so many times the sins committed against you, being ^D practiced by giving forgiveness once and again and a third time, you shall feel no difficulty in this philosophy henceforth, having been accustomed to forgive frequently, nor would you be offended by the neighbor's sins. But even if one suffers unjust robbery, and for this injury gives thanks to God, he shall obtain countless rewards through that act of thanksgiving. For nothing is so pleasing to God as not to return evil for evil. But if someone says: "How could I, who am weaker, avenge myself upon him who afflicts me with injury?" I would answer that, that you could have done it, by taking it badly, by being angry, by praying against him who harms you, by cursing him with countless evils, by finally slandering him before everyone: for these things are placed in our power. Therefore, he who has not done these things shall receive the reward of him who did not take revenge: for it is manifest that if he had been able to do that [evil] thing, he nevertheless would not have done it. When, therefore, you see an enemy has fallen into your hands, do not then think it is a time for revenge, but for salvation and safety. For then it is most fitting to spare enemies, when we have obtained power over them: and if we manage our affairs in this way, and help the salvation of our neighbors, quickly we shall be pleasant and lovable even to them; and what is greatest of all, we shall obtain those hidden goods, by the grace and benignity of our Lord Jesus Christ; to whom [be] glory and power, with the Father and the holy and life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the everlasting ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXX. An Oration on the Praises of the holy Apostle Paul, composed by Theodore the Magistrate, from various orations of our holy Father John Chrysostom.

Of the inscription of the Acts of the Apostles, we have discharged the whole debt to you. It was fitting, furthermore, to undertake the beginning of the book, and to say what that is, "The first account I made of all things, O Theophilus, which Jesus began to do and to teach" (Acts 1.1). But Paul does not permit us to use this order of sequence; he calls our tongue to himself and his own illustrious deeds. For I desire to see him being introduced to Damascus, bound, not with an iron chain, but with a Dominical voice; I desire also to see this great fish captured, who stirred up the whole sea, who excited countless tempests against the Church; I desire to see him captured, not by a hook, but by a Dominical sermon. For as some fisherman sitting on a high rock, and lifting a rod, lets down a hook from on high into the sea; so also our Lord, while He opened spiritual fishing, as if—

^A dropping down that voice and saying, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" (Acts 9:4), and capturing this fierce fish. For who would have endured that cruel and inhuman man, who was a persecutor and a blasphemer, and so greatly laying waste the Church, that he even wandered through houses dragging away men and women, and confounding and disturbing all things, had our King not suddenly, having summoned him, transformed him, and brought him back to Himself? For the disciples, wherever they saw him approaching, were seized with fear and trembled, and dared not even look him in the face: and they showed the same fear when he became their friend. If, therefore, they feared him after he had been reconciled, being still an enemy and an adversary, what would they not have done? But what am I to suffer? I am forced to fly with great vehemence, lest he again, having seized me, should lead me away from the proposed subject. For you know that when I am walking elsewhere and turned toward another matter, he often met me in the middle of the speech and stopped me, and so captured me, that he persuaded me even to end the discourse on him. This blessed Paul, therefore, who enlightened the whole world, was once blinded at the time of his calling; but his deprivation of sight became the illumination of the world. For because he saw wickedly, God blinded him well, so that he might recover his sight usefully; and because he persecuted the Church to excess, and was so fierce and unapproachable, he received a more severe bridle; so that, not being carried away by the rush of that zeal, he might miss what was being said, and might learn whom he was fighting, whom he could not endure, though He was not only punishing him, but even benefiting him. For it was not darkness that blinded him, but the excess of light that darkened him.

If a barbarian war surrounded us, and in the battle the enemies provided us with a thousand troubles; and then the general of the barbarians, who brought a thousand engines, and was confounding all our affairs, and filling everything with noise and confusion, and threatening to level the city itself ^B and deliver it to fire, and threatening us with slavery, were suddenly bound by our King and led captive into the city; would we not all, with wives and children, have rushed out to that spectacle? Since, then, now also a war has arisen, with the Jews raising a tumult and disturbing everything, and applying many engines against the safety of the Church, and the head of the enemies is Paul—he who is greater at everything, both doing and saying, he who was disturbing and agitating everything—and our Lord Jesus Christ, our King, bound him, bound him and led him captive; shall we not all go out to this spectacle, so as to see him being led captive? For the angels from the heavens, seeing him bound and led in, were exulting; not because they saw him bound, but because they understood how many men he was about to free from bonds; not because they saw him being led by the hand, but because they calculated how many he was about to lead by the hand from the earth to there; not because they saw him blinded, but because they understood how many he was about to lead out of darkness. For this reason I also, having left all the others, hasten to jump toward Paul. For Paul and the longing for Paul have compelled us to make this leap. Who shall speak of Thy mighty acts, O Lord, that Thou didst not allow Paul to be hidden, that Thou didst show such a man to the world? All the angels praised Thee with one accord, when Thou didst make the stars, and when Thou didst make the sun, but not so as when Thou didst show Paul to the whole world. For this reason the earth has become brighter ^C than the heaven, because he is brighter than the light of the sun. And this sun indeed gives way to the night, but he overcame the devil; and the former, coming down from above, sends his rays downward; but he, rising from below, did not only fill the space between heaven and earth with light, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he filled the angels with much pleasure. For if there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, and he hunted down fifty thousand men from his first public address, of how much joy does he fill the powers above? And what am I saying? It is simply enough for Paul to speak, and for the heavens to leap and rejoice. For what is more ardent than the heart of this man, who ran around the whole world being dragged and stoned, that he might loose those who were bound, and translate them to himself? For he did not accomplish things as if fighting, but as if coming for an easy and ready victory, so he erected the trophies, digging up, pulling down, and casting down the strongholds of the devil, and the machines of the demons, and he did not breathe even a little, but from these he would leap to those, and again from those to others, and like some excellent general, erecting trophies every day, or rather every hour. For having gone into the battle with a small tunic alone, he would capture the cities of his adversaries with their men; and his tongue was the bows, the spears, the arrows, and everything to Paul. For he only spoke, and the words, falling upon the enemies more fiercely than any fire, pursued the demons, and led back to him the men who were held by them. For when he cast out that bad demon, fifty thousand sorcerers came together, burning the books of magic, and moving to the truth. And just as in a war when a tower has fallen, or a tyrant has been brought down, all those with him, having thrown down their weapons, run to the general, so it happened also then: for the demon having been cast out, all having been besieged, and having thrown down the books, or rather having destroyed them, they ran to Paul’s feet. And he, as if being stationed in the world as in one camp, stood nowhere, but like one who had wings, he did everything; and now he healed a lame man, now he raised a dead man, now he blinded another—the mage, I mean; and not even when shut up in prison did he rest, but even there he gathered the jailer to himself, producing this beautiful captivity. David is admired for bringing down Goliath from one single stone; but if anyone should examine the achievements of Paul, that is a child’s work; and as much as the difference between a shepherd and a general, so much is the difference between him and this man; for he did not bring down the intellectual Goliath by throwing a stone, but by merely speaking he destroyed the whole phalanx of the devil. And like a lion roaring and sending forth flame from his tongue, so he was unbearable to all as he came on; and everywhere he leapt continuously, he ran to these, he came to those, he turned to these, he leapt away to others, coming faster than the wind; and he flew from these to those. ^D

^A And as if governing one house or one ship, the whole world, he kept taking up those who were being baptized, strengthening those who were wavering, exhorting the sailors, sitting at the helm, looking over the prow, stretching the ropes, pulling the oar, drawing the sail, looking toward heaven; he was all things, both sailor and ship’s rector, and prorector, and sail, and ship, enduring all things in order to dissolve the evils of others. And like some athlete, he himself was wrestling, running, fighting; or like a soldier attacking city walls, or joining in infantry and sea battles, thus he engaged in every kind of combat; and breathing fire, he was inaccessible to all. In one body he grasped the whole world, and with one tongue he turned all in flight. Not so much did those many trumpets, falling upon the walls of Jericho, cast them down, as the resounding voice of Paul was destroying the diabolical fortifications and transferring his enemies to himself. And he was let down through a window from the wall, in order to send those cast to the ground from the bottom upwards. To recount, then, the hunger and thirst, the nakedness, the shipwrecks, the fears, the ambushes, the prisons, the stripes, and all the other things which the blessed Paul endured for the sake of the preaching of the divine Word, I believe there is no need, as even single ones of these would suffice to disturb and thoroughly shatter that holy soul; but when he says, ^B "Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I do not burn?" (2 Cor. 11:29), this produces for him, more than all else, continuous and intolerable misery. For if, in each one of those who were scandalized, he himself was burning, that fire could not be extinguished in his own soul; for there were never wanting those who were scandalized, and who provided material for this fire. For he who saw the Jews as unbelievers, how could he have even slight rest from the soul’s sickness and pain? For I desired, he says, "to be anathema from Christ for my brethren, who are my kinsmen according to the flesh, who are Israelites" (Rom. 9:3-4). What he says here has this meaning: It was more desirable to me to fall into Gehenna than to see the Israelites as unbelievers. Since he chose the punishments of hell in order to be able to convert all the Jews, it is manifest that, having been frustrated of this hope, he led a life more bitter than those who sustain the punishments of Gehenna. ^C O, what a fiery love of charity! Paul, undaunted against fire, that adamantine, firm, immovable man, saying, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?" (Rom. 8:35); he who attacks land and sea, who makes a mockery of the adamantine gates of death, was himself, while watching the tears of some beloved ones, so greatly broken and crushed that he could no longer hide his affection, but said immediately: "What are you doing, weeping and afflicting my heart?" (Acts 21:13). O, thing to be wondered at! The abyss of the most deep waters did not break him, and slight tears did break and crush him? "What are you doing, weeping and afflicting my heart?" What do you say, I ask you? Could tears crush that adamantine mind? ^D Certainly, he says; for great is the power of charity; it surpasses me, it overcomes me; for I resist all things, charity alone excepted. Hear, whoever you are who do not count as nothing wealth for the sake of Christ, or rather for your own sake, and shudder, perceiving in your mind the cause of Paul’s love toward Christ. For he did not love Christ for the sake of the goods of Christ, but these for his sake; and he feared this one thing: lest he fall away from His charity, for this was more formidable to him than Gehenna itself, just as to remain in that same love was more desirable than the kingdom. Since, then, he prepared himself to be cast even into Gehenna for the sake of the love of Christ, and to lack the kingdom, if both of these were proposed, while we do not even despise the present life, are we even worthy of his sandals, we who are so far removed from that greatness of his mind? For if someone, looking after the care of one house, even if he has servants and stewards and administrators, nevertheless cannot frequently breathe from his cares, with no one existing who might disturb him, think what he endured, who had the care not of one house alone, but of cities and peoples and nations and even the whole world, and, being alone in matters of such moment among so many persecutors, suffering so many things and being so solicitous, as no father ever was for his children. If anyone desires to love sincerely, and to know the virtue of charity, let him betake himself to the pupil of this, I mean the blessed Paul, and he will teach him how great a struggle it is to be torn away from whom one loves, and how much spirit is needed to bear this.

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^A For it does not suffice for those who love each other merely to be bound together in spirit, nor does this suffice for their consolation, but they also stand in need of bodily presence; and if this is absent, no small part of their joy has been cut away. Do you wish to learn what a device it is for drawing brothers—even if they should be unbelievers—to oneself: to be gentle, and mild, and to display a sweet manner? Hear what Paul says as he enters before the judge to be tried: “I count myself blessed, being about to be judged before you” (Acts 26:2). And he was saying these things, not flattering him—far from it—but wishing to win him over through his gentleness. And so he did win him over in part, and the man who was formerly thought to be a convict called the judge himself the one who was captured, and the one who was overcome confesses the victory with a clear voice in the presence of all, saying: "In a little you persuade me to become a Christian" (Ibid. v. 28, 29).

Many, therefore, are the signs of Paul’s miracles in many places, but they are not as desirable as the scars. And he does not so much delight me in the Scriptures when he is working miracles as he does when he is suffering evil—being scourged, dragged about, stoned; for it says, "Having stoned him, they dragged him outside the city" (Acts 14:19); and again, "Having beaten him, and having inflicted many wounds, they threw him into prison" (Acts 16:23). What glory, what pleasure, what honor, what splendor to know that he was bound for the sake of Christ! ^B But observe the marvelous thing: "And the prison was shaken," he says, "with Paul bound, and the bonds of all were loosed" (Acts 16:26). Do you see the nature of the bonds loosening the bonds? Having awakened, the jailer, seeing the doors of the prison open, drew his sword and was about to destroy himself. What then does Paul do? He called out with a loud voice, saying, "Do yourself no harm; for we are all here" (Acts 16:28). Do you see his lack of vanity, and his lack of pride, and his affection? He did not say, "Because of us these things have happened," but as if he were one of the prisoners, he says, "For we are all here." For if he had kept silent, and had not restrained his hands through that great voice, he would have thrust the sword through his throat. But he cried out, because he had been thrown into the inner prison. "You have done this against yourself," he says, "by throwing deeper inside those who were about to free you from danger." Do you see the humanity and the care of Paul? He chose to be bound and to be in danger himself rather than to see that man perishing.

And just as a soldier having the whole world at war, and moving about in the midst of the ranks of the enemy, suffers no harm; so too Paul, alone among barbarians, among Greeks, appearing everywhere on land, everywhere on the sea. And as a spark falling into straw or grass changes the things that are burning to its own nature, so too this man, approaching all, changed all toward the truth. ^C Who would not be struck with awe at the power of the chains that encircled the blessed Paul? Because it led those who bound him to the feet of the one who was bound and made those men subject to him. For the jailer fell down, he says, before Paul, and the one who was loosed was at the feet of the one who was bound, and the one who had bound him begged the one who had been bound to be freed from fear. Did you not bind him, tell me? Did you not throw him into the inner prison? Did you not make the feet secure in the stocks? Why do you tremble? Why are you troubled? Why do you weep? Why have you drawn your sword? "I did not know," he says, "that so great is the power of the prisoners of Christ." What are you saying? He received authority to open the heavens, and was he not about to open a prison? He was loosing those bound by demons, and was iron about to prevail over him? If he was loosening souls that were bound, would he not have had the power to loosen his own body? He who, through his garments, was loosening others from those bonds and delivering them from demons—would he not have loosened himself by himself? For this reason he was first bound, and then he loosed those who were bound, so that you might learn that the servants of Christ, even when bound, possess a power much greater than those who are loosed. For thus the power of the holy one is shown to be more brilliant, when even while bound he holds sway over those who are loosed. When, therefore, the one who is bound not only looses himself, but also looses those who are bound, what is the value of the walls? What is the advantage of throwing him into the inner prison, where he even opened the outer one?

^D Do you wish to learn how great a thing it is to have an iron chain placed around a servant's body for the sake of Christ? Hear the blessed Paul boasting of this very thing and saying: "I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beseech you" (Eph. 4:1). For it is indeed a great dignity, and intense, and greater than kingdoms and consulships and all things, to be bound for the sake of Christ. For nothing is so brilliant as to be a prisoner for Christ, as the chains that encircled those holy hands; this is much more brilliant and more solemn than being an apostle, than being a teacher, than being an evangelist. If anyone loves Christ, he knows what is being said; if anyone is mad and inflamed with love for the Master, he knows the power of the bonds; he would choose to be a prisoner for Christ rather than to inhabit the heavens. For this is more brilliant than even sitting at His right hand, and more solemn and blessed than sitting upon twelve thrones. If anyone were to grant me either the whole heaven or that chain with which Paul’s hands were bound, I would have set that one above the former; if anyone were to set me above with the angels or with Paul in bonds, I would have chosen the prison; if anyone were to make me one of those powers that are around the throne, or such a prisoner, I would have chosen to be a prisoner of such a kind; for there is nothing better than to suffer some ill for the sake of Christ. If anyone gave me the power to raise the dead now, I would not choose this, but the chain; for there is nothing more blessed than that chain. I would have liked to be in those places now, in which those bonds remain, and to see the chains, which demons fear and shudder at, but which angels revere. If I were free from ecclesiastical cares, and had a healthy and robust body, I would not have refused to make such a long journey just to see the chains, and the prison where Paul was bound. If anyone would give me Paul to see, looking down from heaven and sending forth a voice, or from the prison; from the prison—

for it is to him actually in prison that the heavenly ones come. O blessed chains! O blessed hands, which that chain surrounding Paul adorned! His hands were not so honorable when they were raising the lame man at Lystra, as they were when they were surrounded by chains. If I had lived at that time, I would most certainly have embraced them and pressed them to my eyes; nor would I have ceased kissing those hands which were deemed worthy to be bound for my Lord. I do not proclaim him so blessed because he was caught up to the third heaven and into paradise, as I do because he was thrown into prison; I do not judge him so happy for having heard unspeakable words, as I do for having borne chains; for these are indeed far greater than those. For it is preferable to me to suffer evils for Christ, than to be honored by Christ. Paul also, as is fitting, considering this in his mind, said: If He became a servant for me, and emptying Himself of glory, considered Himself to be in no greater honor than if He were crucified for me, what ought I not to suffer? For hear Him saying: Glorify Me, O Father (John 17:5). What do you say? You are being led to the cross with thieves and tomb-robbers, and you are suffering the death due to criminals; you are to be spat upon and struck, and yet you call these things glory? Certainly, he says; for I suffer these things for my beloved, and I deservedly account them as glory. If therefore my Lord, by loving the wretched and miserable, calls this glory, and prefers it to the glory of the heavenly throne, much more ought I to account these tribulations as my glory. Wherefore, ^A there is nothing more blessed than the soul of Paul. For in what does he glory? In chains, in tribulations, in the fetter, in the stigmata: for he says: Bound in the spirit, I go to Jerusalem, not knowing what shall befall me there; save that the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city, saying that chains and tribulations remain for me (Acts 20:22-23). Why therefore do you go, if chains and tribulations remain for you? For this very reason, he says, that I may be bound for Christ, and that I may die for His sake: for I am prepared not only to be bound, but also to die for the name of my Lord. ^B What then is this? Are you not ashamed, do you not fear to go around the world in chains? Do you not fear that someone might refute the weakness of your God from this? That someone might be unwilling to approach for this reason? They are not of such a kind, he says, for they know how to shine even in royal halls: That my chains, he says, may be made manifest in the whole praetorium, and that the more part of the brethren in the Lord, being confident by my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word (Philip. 1:13-14). Do you see the virtue of the chains rather than the raising of the dead? He was bound in Rome, and he drew many; he was bound in Jerusalem, and, while bound, by speaking he terrified the king, and struck fear into the governor; for, being terrified, he released him. He was sailing, bound, and he released the shipwreck and hindered the storm—him, constrained by chains, that beast apprehended, and again it escaped him without having caused any injury. ^C And see this happening everywhere. He was scourged, and indeed he was scourged vehemently; for, he says, they laid many stripes upon him (Acts 16:23); and he was bound, and this likewise vehemently; for they cast him into the inner prison, and with greater custody: and yet he, among these things, about midnight, when even those who are completely carefree are asleep, was singing and praising the Lord. What is firmer and more constant than this soul? He was considering that the children also in the fire and in the furnace were singing. Perhaps he was reasoning that he had suffered nothing of the kind. But our discourse has opportunely led us to other chains and another prison. What shall I do? I wish to be silent, but I cannot; I have found another prison, far more wonderful and more astonishing than that one. But rise up as if for a new discourse, and attend with fresh minds. I wish to cut off the discourse, but it does not allow it: ^D I cannot desist, I cannot keep silent, many things flow around me here: I know not what to say first, what second. Therefore I beseech you, let no one require order from me; for great is the affinity of the matters. Long was Paul’s chain, and it detained us for a long time; but I shall not be silent for that reason. For if he himself did not keep silent in prison, nor among the scourges, shall I keep silent, who am sitting here in the day and speaking with much leisure? And how would that be reasonable? For who would not stand aghast and admire, or rather, who would be able to admire and stand aghast sufficiently for that generous soul of Paul, which is sublime even to the heavens? For, constrained by chains and shut up in prison, he wrote letters to the Philippians from such a great distance: for you do not ignore how great an interval there is between Macedonia and Rome. But neither the length of the road, nor the duration of time, nor the multitude of business, nor the dangers and the evils continuously following one another, nor anything else took away from him the love and remembrance of his disciples, but he held them all in his heart: nor were his hands so much constricted by chains, as his soul was bound and affixed to the desire for the disciples. And just as some king, having ascended his throne in the morning, sits in the royal hall, and continuously receives countless letters from every place: so he in prison, as if in a certain royal hall, sitting, was incessantly sending and receiving far more frequent letters, of those, indeed, who from all parts of the nations were referring their affairs accurately to his wisdom: and he was administering as many more matters as any king would have, in as much as a greater authority had been entrusted to him. O the power of Paul! He was surrounded by a chain, and he laid low Nero who was crowned with a diadem; he was clothed in worn-out and sordid rags, for he was living in prison; and he turned the eyes of all more to the chains surrounding him than to any purple garment: he was detained standing on the ground and looking downward, and, having dismissed him who was in the golden chariot, they were paying attention to him—and deservedly so. For it was a known and customary sight to see a king sitting on white steeds; but this is truly new and unusual, to see a captive with such liberty conversing with a king, when a king is perhaps with a wretched and miserable man. A crowd was standing around, and all were slaves of the king; they were marveling not at their master, but at the one who was winning over their master. Yet indeed they made a mistake in praising the lion-tamer, when they ought to have praised the others. What will come of this with the King of heaven with radiant...

splendor, when Nero shall stand there abashed and downcast? For if, when the time of the crowns had not yet arrived, the athlete enjoyed such honor, when the Arbiter of the contest shall come, of how great honor shall he partake? He was in lands not his own, a stranger and a sojourner, ^A and yet he is so admired; when he is in his own, what good thing shall he not enjoy? What shall he not share in? What shall he not attain? No King, having become ruler of Rome, enjoyed as much honor as Paul. But the king lies cast away somewhere outside, whereas this man holds the center of the city, as if ruling and living. If, then, here, where he was driven and persecuted, he enjoyed such honor, when He comes, what will it be? If where he was a tentmaker he became so radiant, when He comes, shining brighter than the sun’s rays, what will it be? If with such poverty he achieved such magnificence, when He comes, what will it be? Is it not possible to avoid these realities? Do you wish that I show you that the tentmaker has become more honored than the one who was admired above all kings? ^B Who in the glory of this world is more renowned than Alexander? Who is greater? Did he not accomplish many and great things while alive? Did he not subdue nations and cities, conquer many wars and battles, and set up trophies? Was he not considered the thirteenth god by the Roman Senate? But for one who is alive to accomplish wars and victories, being a king and having armies, is nothing wonderful; but to accomplish so much everywhere by land and sea every day after death and burial—this is what is full of the greatest astonishment. For where, tell me, is Alexander’s monument? Show it to me and tell me the day he died; you would not be able. But one might see Paul’s monument as well, having reached the most royal Rome, and a manifest day, which they make a feast for the inhabited world. ^C And his [Alexander’s] own people are ignorant of his, but Paul’s are known even by the barbarians; and the tomb of the servant of Christ is more brilliant than royal courts. For even he who wears the purple, goes to embrace that tomb, and putting aside his pride, stands as a suppliant before the dead man, so that he might intercede for him before God; and the one who has the diadem needs the tentmaker and the fisherman and the deceased man as his protector. And one might see this not only in Rome, but also in Constantinople. For even here the son [of Constantine] thought he was honoring Constantine the Great with great honor, if he laid him at the very thresholds of the fisherman. And just as door-keepers are to kings in the palaces, ^D just so are kings to the fishermen at the tomb; and the former, like masters of the place, hold the inner parts, while the latter, as guests and neighbors, have deemed the outer gate to be set apart for them. And the kings are surrounded by the dignity of servants and attendants, while the others [the fishermen] are surrounded by the dignity of kings. If things beyond nature came to pass here, how much more so in the world to come? Who now would grant me to be wrapped around the body of Paul, and to be fastened to the tomb, and to see the dust of that body, through which he ran throughout the inhabited world, which filled up the deficiencies of Christ, which bore the marks, which sowed the preaching everywhere? The dust of the mouth, through which Christ spoke, and the light shone forth that was higher than any lightning, and a voice leaped forth more fearful to the demons than any thunder? For we do not fear thunder as those demons feared that voice; for if they shuddered at his garments, they feared the voice much more. I wished to see the dust of this mouth, through which Christ spoke the great and ineffable things, and greater things than through Himself; through which He uttered that blessed statement, saying: *I could wish that I myself were accursed for my brothers* (Rom. 9:3); through which he spoke before kings, and was not ashamed; through which demons fled, not hearing him speaking only, but even when he was far away; through which he set all things on earth in order, and also ordered in whatever way he wished those in the heavens, binding whom he wished and loosening—there, according to the authority given to him. Who would have pointed out to me the dust of Paul’s heart, which was burning for each of the perishing, and travailing a second time 666 for his aborted children? I desired to see this, even though it be dissolved—a heart higher than the heavens, wider than the inhabited world, more radiant than the sun, hotter than fire, firmer than adamant, which lived a new life, or rather this life of ours: *For I live, yet not I, but Christ lives in me* (Gal. 2:20) (for that heart of Paul’s was the heart of the Holy Spirit, and a tablet of grace); which was deemed worthy to love Christ as no one else has loved, which despised death and hell, and was crushed by the tears of his brothers: *For what are you doing,* he says, *weeping and breaking my heart?* (Acts 21:13). I desired to see the dust of Paul’s hands, which were in bonds, through which the Spirit was granted by the laying on of hands, through which the divine writings were written: *See with what large letters I have written to you with my own hand* (Gal. 6:11)—of those hands, the sight of which caused the viper to fall into the fire. I desired to see the dust of his eyes—once blinded, given sight for the salvation of the inhabited world, and counted worthy to see Christ even in the body; I desired also to see the dust of those feet, which ran around the inhabited world and did not grow weary; which were bound in the stocks, when he shook the jail, which traversed the inhabited and the uninhabited world. And what need is there to speak in part? I desired to see that very lion, the spiritual one. For just as a lion, casting fire from his eyes into herds of foxes, so he fell upon the faction of demons and philosophers, and like the cast of a thunderbolt, he was brought down upon the phalanxes of the devil. For the devil did not even stand against him in battle, but so he feared and trembled, that if he saw his shadow and heard his voice from afar, he would flee immediately. Consider and shudder, what a spectacle Rome will see when Paul suddenly rises from his...

^B tomb with Peter, to be caught up to meet Christ! What a gift Rome will send to Christ! With what two crowns she is adorned! With what golden chains she is girded! The heaven is not so radiant when the sun scatters its rays as the city of the Romans is, sending forth these two torches to every place in the world. What speech will suffice for reciting the noble deeds of Paul, or what tongue will be able to attain his praises? For whatever great things the prophets or patriarchs or holy ones or apostles or martyrs have achieved, he alone contains them all within himself, and with such excellence indeed, as none of them ever possessed the good that each held. When, therefore, one soul holds together all the ornaments of men, and all these things with a certain excellence, and not only those of men but also those of angels, how shall we escape [the condemnation] from such a magnitude of praises? Of what condemnation, then, should we not be worthy, if, when one man has collected all the ornaments of virtues into himself, we study not to imitate even the thousandth part of them? For his many illustrious deeds, the patriarch Abraham is an object of admiration to men, especially indeed because he did not refuse to sacrifice his own son; Isaac indeed for his clemency, because while he was being driven out of his own borders, he did not avenge himself, but yielded his possessions everywhere, until he had satisfied the unjust desire of his adversaries; Jacob indeed the patriarch for his temperance and patience; David for his meekness; and Elias because he was zealous for the Lord. But what could be equal to Paul, who possesses all these things joined together, and that indeed in an excellent manner? He indeed did not sacrifice a son, but he sacrificed himself a thousand times; nor was he driven out of his own borders only, but he wandered like one winged over land and sea, and Greece and barbarism, and to sum up, over the whole earth that the sun beholds; he was dragged, he was struck with scourges, he was attacked with stones, he was undergoing death every day. Nor was he scorched for fourteen years by the servitude, the heat of the day, or the cold of the night, but he spent his whole life in hunger and destitution, in chains and prisons, in ambushes and dangers. But ^C as for justice and meekness, who has fulfilled the roles of both more, or equally, than Paul? But if you also consider his zeal for God, you will see that he surpasses Elias just as much as he surpassed the other prophets. But John lived on locusts and wild honey. Yet this man, living in the middle of the world, just as he lived in the solitude, did not feed on locusts and wild honey, yet he had a table far more humble than that set before him, and he scarcely obtained necessary nourishment for himself, because of his zeal and solicitude for preaching the Gospel. It remains further that we should liken him to the angels. But let no one accuse my speech of rashness. For if Scripture called John an angel, why do you wonder if we compare the most excellent of all men to those heavenly powers? For what man is, and how great is the nobility of our nature, and of how great virtue this animal is capable, no man has shown more than Paul; and even now he stands, from the time he was born [anew], answering on behalf of the Lord with a clear voice to all who reproach this fabric of ours, and showing that there is no great interval between men and angels, if we should wish to attend to ourselves. For he did not attain another nature, nor did he obtain a dissimilar soul, nor did he inhabit another world, but dwelling in the same earth and region, by the same laws and customs, he excelled all men who have existed since men were born: and just as he was motionless toward death, so quite plainly, subduing the impulses of nature, he never succumbed to any human passion in any matter. If, therefore, Paul, adorned with so many and such great illustrious deeds, and appearing as an angel upon the earth, was busy every day in making profit, and in opposing himself to dangers for the sake of the truth, and in preparing a spiritual trade for himself, and never subsisting: what excuse finally shall we have, who are not only stripped of all illustrious deeds, but are also subject to so many vices, of which even one alone, if it were in us, would suffice to cast us into the abyss of perdition; and meanwhile we apply no care to at least amend these, so far are we from setting out upon the works of virtues? ^D Was that blessed man not of the same nature as we are? For I am inflamed with love for the holy man, and I do not cease to turn him over continually; and looking back at his soul, as if to a primal image, I consider in him the contempt of affections, the excellence of fortitude, the fervor of love for God: I am stunned that one man, when he willed, successfully attained all virtues simultaneously, while we each do not even desire to attain the smallest part of them. Who, therefore, would deliver us from the inevitable punishment, since Paul has shown such a magnitude of virtue, who was endowed with the same common nature as we are, and was subject to the same affections, and lived in such a time of difficulty, and was vexed, torn, and dragged publicly by the enemies of the preaching on almost every day? And that you might not hear as though fabricated by me what that holy man has done in an 'illustrious and memorable way, and the greatness of soul which he showed daily for the sake of the proclamation of religion; it is necessary that you hear him saying: "In what any one is bold, in foolishness I speak, I am bold also" (2 Cor. 11.21). Consider for me the soul dear to God, who calls not only boldness but also foolishness a "business"; teaching us not to divulge rashly and without necessity and without being urged by anything what has been done by us, if indeed any might be found among us who have done anything good. "Are they Hebrews? and I: Are they Israelites? and I: Are they the seed of Abraham? and I" (Ibid. v. 22). In these, he says, do they boast themselves? Let them not think us to be inferior: for we have these things in common with them. Then he adds: "Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as one less wise) I more" (Ibid. v. 23).

that I see the virtue of this soul; for since he called the boldness and folly that which was done by him, and that too while fixed in such necessity; nor was he content with words alone when he was intent on showing that he far excelled those, lest perhaps someone might think he was speaking these things out of self-love, he calls what he said by him "folly" once more; saying as it were: "For do I not know that I am doing a thing that stands against the many, and that it is not fitting for me? But the great necessity that pushed me compelled this; therefore forgive me," he says, "for speaking words of folly." ^B If we, to whom so many heavy burdens of sin are attached, were to imitate even the shadow of this, and do something good in a small way, and yet not tolerate keeping even this in the storehouses of our mind, but, because of desiring to hunt for glory from men, make a display of it and set it in the midst, and through this untimely chatter deprive ourselves of the reward from God! But this blessed man suffered no such thing, but once he had said, "I more," he proceeds to enumerate the achievements of his bravery, and says: "In labors more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in deaths often" (2 Cor. 11. 23). What are you saying? That which you say is strange and paradoxical. For is it possible to endure death often? "Yes," he says; if not in experience, yet in resolution; teaching us that he was continuously exposing himself to such dangers that birthed death for him; but the grace of God kept this athlete in the very midst of the dangers, so that great benefit might accrue to those being discipled by him; and what follows again obscures, so to speak, all that had been said: "For who is weak," he says, "and I am not weak? Who is offended, and I do not burn?" (2 Cor. 11. 29). Indeed, how great is the affection of this man, how great ^C his wakefulness, how great his anxiety! What mother’s heart is so torn when her child is feverish and lying on a bed, as was this blessed man's? For he was more sick for those who were sick in every place, and was burning for those who were offended. For consider for me the emphasis of the expression: he did not say, "Who is offended, and I am not saddened," but, "I burn," he says, declaring to us the intensity of his pain, and as it were showing himself inflaming and scorching within for those who were enduring the scandals. I know that I have extended the discourse to a great length; but I do not know how, having fallen into the wealth of the achievements of this saint, like one borne away by a most violent rush of waters, I have thus been carried off in my speech. Ending the discourse at this point, I beseech your love to carry this continually in your mind, and to consider this constantly: that he was a participant in the same nature as us and subjected to the same passions, and having a humble and contemptible trade, and stitching skins, and standing in a workshop, since he wanted and willed to surrender himself to the labors of virtue, and to make himself worthy of the reception of the Holy Spirit, he enjoyed the more abundant honor from above; which may we all attain, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXXI

the unwise, but he knows that death is for those who have lived rightly a translation to better things, and a departure to a superior state, and a race toward crowns. Therefore, throughout the cities, ^A to the very gates of the fields, and everywhere, a school of humility is proposed to us, that we may be constantly reminded of our own weakness. Someone is hastening to enter the imperial city, flourishing in wealth, power, and other dignities; and before he sees what he imagines, he sees what is: he is taught first into what he ends, and then he comes to see the inner phantoms. And not only this, but often a man, when he wishes to take a wife, submits to the law, writes the marriage settlement; and although the conjugal union has not yet taken place, death is immediately registered; he has not yet known his wife, and yet he places the sentence of death before himself and her, and writes such things as these: "If the husband dies before the wife; if the wife before the husband, this or that is established." And the calculation of death is not only applied to those who exist and live, but even to those not yet brought into the light. For what does it say? "If a child born should die." Behold, the fruit is not yet, and the decree has run its course. Is it, then, that one recognizes nature in documents? And if any human thing befalls him, or his wife passes away, he forgets what he wrote, and utters other tragic words, and says, "Was it for this that I was to suffer? Were these things to befall me, and was I to be widowed of my spouse?" What are you saying, O man? You were free of troubles, and you recognized the ends of nature; but after you fell into calamities, have you forgotten the laws of nature? Therefore, when you see someone of your kinsmen departing from this world, do not take it ill: return to yourself, and examine your conscience; consider that a little later the end also threatens you. ^B "But the deceased," you say, "is putrefying, and becomes dust and ashes." For this, indeed, one ought to be most glad. For when someone is about to rebuild a ruined and old house, he first ejects the inhabitants, and thus tears down the house itself and builds it more splendidly. And that situation does not grieve those ejected, but brings them even greater pleasure; for they do not look at the present demolition of the building, but conceive in their mind the future edifice. In the same way God also acts: when He is about to destroy our body, He first leads out the soul inhabiting it, as if from a house, so that when He has built another with more magnificent workmanship, He may introduce it again with greater glory. For Adam, when he was being formed, did not know that he had been raised from the earth; for God did not make the soul older than the body, lest it should see the creation: whence also he was ignorant of his own vileness. But when he is raised in the resurrection, he will know, because he is raised having put off the dust. For even if a dead man does not look at himself, he sees before him the corpse dissolved into dust, and is instructed by the things he perceives. Have you not seen the bold and haughty, how they are recalled to modesty in deaths, and are repressed? Death is announced, and the hearts of all are struck with fear. We philosophize around monuments, uttering many things; but, having scarcely exited the sepulchers, we have immediately forgotten humility. In funeral rites, everyone says to his neighbor in this way: "O the calamity! O our miserable life! What are we, after all? Why do we utter our voice, and seize? Why do we remember injuries?" And thus, clearly, every one philosophizes, as if he immediately wished to renounce vices entirely; and within, indeed, he philosophizes with his thoughts, but externally he resists God by his actions. But let us return to the subject. ^C Why, then, do you bewail the one whose life is finished? Is it because he was evil? But for this, one ought to give thanks, that his vices have been hindered. But he was frugal and good? And for this, one ought to rejoice that he was taken quickly, before malice changed his understanding. But he was a youth? Even for this cause, give thanks, and praise God, who has accepted him. For just as many accompany those who are called to office with good wishes, so it is necessary to escort those departing from life with much goodly acclamation, as those called to a greater honor. For I do not say, "Do not mourn for the dead at all," but, "Do not do so immoderately." For if we had considered that he who has departed was mortal, and was taken by God, we would receive no mediocre consolation. For to be indignant in these things is the mark of those who require something greater than nature itself. You were born a human being and mortal: why, therefore, do you grieve that things according to nature have happened? Do you grieve because you are nourished by eating? Do you seek to live without food? So it is also in death; since you were born mortal, do not seek immortality: this has been defined and determined once. But when God calls, or wishes to take something from us, let us not, like wicked servants, steal those things which are the Lord's. ^D For whether He has taken money, or honor and glory, or the body, or the soul itself, He has taken His own: even if He has taken your son, He has not taken your son, but His own servant. If, therefore, we are not our own, how will what is His be ours? For if your soul is not yours, how will your money be yours? But if they are not yours, how do you consume those things that are not yours otherwise than is necessary? Do not, therefore, say, "I consume what is mine, I live sumptuously from my own"; for it happens not from your own, but from the things of others: I say, indeed, from the things of others, because you so wish; since God wishes those things to be yours which have been entrusted to you in the name of the poor. But things that are foreign become yours if you disburse them to them; if, however, you have consumed them upon yourself, things that were yours have become foreign. Do you not see, how in our bodies the hands minister, the mouth grinds, the belly receives? Does the belly say: "Because I have received, I ought to keep the whole"? And the eye, indeed, because it receives all the light, does it therefore keep it alone, and not rather illuminate the whole body? The feet, too, because they alone walk, do they transfer only themselves, and not transfer the whole body? And, in truth, any one of those who exercise some necessary function, unless he is willing to share the profit of his art with another, destroys not only others, but himself as well. For the poor, if they had taken revenge on your wickedness, O misers and rich men, would have quickly reduced you to poverty, had they not been willing to share their own with the needy. "But," he says, "I have lost my only son, reared with much wealth, showing a brilliant hope, he who was to succeed me in my inheritance." And what is this? Do not groan, but give thanks to God, and celebrate with praises Him who has received him: for thus, in this respect, you are in nothing inferior to Abraham.

^A For just as he gave to God when He commanded, so you did not moan when He received. For if, seeing your son dying, you give thanks to the merciful God, you will receive no less a reward than he who led his son and sacrificed him; and even if you disperse these wailings and cries, and excite everyone to doxology, you will receive myriad rewards from above and below, with people admiring you, angels applauding, and God crowning you. And how is it possible, someone says, not to mourn for him from whom I am no longer called a father? What are you saying? Have you lost the child? Have you destroyed the son? Rather, you have acquired him and kept him more firmly. For you have not lost the being called father, but you have gained the being called it more exceedingly; for you shall no longer be called the father of a mortal child, but of an immortal one. For do not because he is not present, think that he has perished; for even if he happened to be traveling abroad, the name of kinship would not have departed from you with his body. This is not the child who lies here, but that one who flew away and ran back to heaven. When, therefore, you see his eyes closed, and his mouth shut, and his body motionless, do not think this: "This mouth no longer speaks, these eyes no longer see, these feet no longer walk"; but rather that "This mouth will speak better, and the eyes will see greater things, and the feet will appear upon the clouds, and this body which is decaying will put on immortality, and I shall receive my son more brilliantly." Remember the patriarch Abraham, who did not see Isaac dying, but—what was much more bitter and painful—he was commanded to slaughter him himself; and he did not speak against the command, nor was he vexed, nor did he utter anything like this: "Did you make me a father for this reason, that you might make me a child-slayer? It would have been better not to give at all, than to give and then take him back again in such a manner. Do you wish to take him? Why do you command me to slaughter him, and to stain my own right hand? Did you not promise to fill the earth with descendants from this child? How then do you give the fruits, while destroying the root? What is this? Who has seen such things, who has ever heard them? I have been deceived and tricked." He said none of these things, he did not even think them, he did not argue against the One who commanded, he did not demand an accounting; but having heard, "Take your beloved son, whom you loved, Isaac, and offer him to Me for a whole-burnt-offering upon one of the mountains that I shall tell you" (Gen. 22.2), he fulfilled the command with such readiness that he did even more than was commanded. For he actually hid it from his wife, and escaped the notice of his attendants, leaving them to remain down below. Consider, therefore, how great a thing it was to converse with the child alone, with no one present, when the inward parts were burning ^B more intensely, and the love was becoming more vehement. What word will be able to represent it? He led the child up, he bound him, he placed him upon the wood, and he snatched up the knife, and he was about to inflict the blow. How I am to speak of this and in what manner, I do not know; he alone knows who performed these deeds, for no word will be able to represent it. How did his hand not tremble? How was the tension of his nerves not dissolved? How did the sight of the desired child not hold him back? And it was possible to see at once this man becoming father and priest, and a sacrifice being offered without blood, a whole-burnt-offering without fire. For he slaughtered his son and did not slaughter; he did not slaughter with the hand, but he slaughtered with his readiness; in order to teach all those after this, that one must prefer the commands of God to children, and to nature, and to all existing things, and to the very soul itself. For consider with me the nobility of the man, when he was commanded to slaughter his son, the only-begotten, the beloved, the one given to him beyond all hope, how many reasonings he had rising up against him. Yet he subjected them all, and all of them trembled before him more than soldiers before a king; and with his look alone he held them all in check, and not one of them dared to even mutter, but they stood in such good order that they adorned him rather than frightened him. And behold his patience: nature was cast upon the ground with its weapons, while he stood extending his hand, not holding a crown, but a knife more brilliant than any crown; and the host of angels was applauding, and God was proclaiming it from the heavens. What could be equal to this trophy? For if when an athlete has won, not a herald below, but the king from above has proclaimed him the Olympic victor, would this not seem more brilliant to him than the crowns, and would it not have turned the whole theater? When, therefore, not a human king, but God Himself, not in such a theater, but in the theater of the inhabited world, in the assembly of the angels and archangels, proclaims him with a clear voice, crying from above: "Where shall we place this holy man, tell me?" For if parents are not easily able to despise their children, even when they are wicked, but actually mourn for them; when it is a son, and a genuine one, and an only-begotten, and beloved, and he is about to be slaughtered by the father himself, who could tell the excess of his philosophy? O blessed right hand, what a knife you were deemed worthy of! ^C O marvelous knife, what a right hand you were deemed worthy of! O marvelous knife! To what purpose were you fashioned, and what service did you accomplish, and what type did you serve? How were you stained, and how were you not stained? For I do not know what to say, so fearful was the mystery. You did not touch the neck of the child, nor did you pass through the throat of that holy one, nor were you stained with the blood of the righteous; or rather, you both touched and passed through and were stained and were washed, and were not washed. I seem to you perhaps to have lost my mind by speaking so contradictorily. For indeed I am distracted as I consider the wonder of the righteous man, but I am not speaking contradictorily. For the hand of the righteous man plunged it into the throat of the child, but the hand of God did not allow it, even when plunged, to be polluted by the blood of the child. For not only did Abraham hold it, but God also did; and the one was driving it through by his intent, while the other was holding it back by His voice. And observe: He said, "Slaughter," and he was armed immediately; He said, "Do not slaughter," and he was immediately disarmed; for he chose not to be called a father, so as to be seen as a grateful servant; and because he departed from the things of nature for the sake of God, for this reason God granted him his own things along with these; and He halts the command at the point of readiness. And do not tell me only this, that he built an altar, and placed wood upon it, but remember also the voice of the

^A boy, and consider within yourself how many thoughts, like storm-clouds, rushed upon him, armed with fiery spears, piercing and rending him on every side, when he heard his son say: "Father, where is the sheep?" (Gen. 22:7). For if many who are not even fathers cannot contain themselves even now, what was it natural for him to suffer, who had begotten him, who had reared him, who had received him in his old age, who had this one child, who was looking at him, who was listening to him, who was about to slay him? Yet none of these things overthrew or shook that loving man, nor did he say: "Why do you call him father who a little later will not be your father, who has already lost this honor?" But what? "God will provide for Himself a sheep for a burnt offering, my son" (Gen. 22:8). Both use the names of nature: he calls him father, and he calls him son; on both sides a grievous war was excited, and the storm was great, but the shipwreck was not. But Isaac, ^B after he heard God, said nothing more, nor did he search curiously: so wise was the boy, in the very flower of his age. Did you not all grow warm? Does not each one of you embrace and kiss that boy in your mind, and marvel at his prudence, and reverence his piety? For while he was being bound and placed upon the wood, he did not tremble, he did not draw back, nor did he condemn his father as a madman; but he was being bound and raised up, and placed upon the wood, and he bore all things in silence like some lamb. Or rather, like the common Lord of all, whose gentleness he was imitating, and whose figure he was keeping. "For he was led as a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb before its shearer is dumb" (Isa. 53:7). And let no one say to me that Abraham did not grieve, nor did he endure the things that belong to a father; and let him not, in a desire to show a philosophy beyond measure, deprive him of his principal praise. For if, when we suddenly see those who are caught in the greatest ^C crimes, and who have spent a long time using this life, being unknown and never seen by us, being led through the marketplace to death, we are constricted and grieve, and often even weep: how could he who is commanded to slaughter and burn with his own hands his own genuine son—most beloved, born contrary to hope, born after such a long time, and at the end of his old age—how could he not have endured a tribulation and grief more grievous than any punishment? For even if he had been stone, if iron, if he had been adamant himself, could he not have been bent, could he not have been broken by the sight of the boy, by the prudence of his words, by the piety of his soul? For he heard, "God will provide for Himself a sheep for a burnt offering, my son," and asked nothing more. He watched his father binding him, and did not resist; he was placed upon the pyre, and did not draw back; he saw the sword being brandished against him, and was not terrified. What could be more godly than this soul? Would anyone therefore still dare to say that Abraham suffered nothing ^D in all these things? For if he had been about to kill an enemy, if a foe, even if it had been a beast, would he have performed these things without grief? It is not so, it is not. Wherefore I ask and entreat, if you ever lose a son or a daughter, O man, do not lament so indecently and tear yourself apart; but consider in your mind that Abraham slew his own son, and did not weep, nor did he utter a harsh word. And Job did indeed grieve, but only as much as it was natural for a father who loved his children to grieve: since what we do now is rather of enemies and foes. For if, when someone is led to royal palaces and crowned, you were to weep and mourn, I would not call you a friend of him who was crowned, but an enemy and a foe. "But I do not know," you say, "where he has gone." Why, tell me, do you not know? Whether he has lived rightly or otherwise, it is manifest whither he is going. "For this reason," he says, "I lament, because he departed from life a sinner." But for this reason one ought to rejoice all the more, that he has been held back in his sins and has not increased his wickedness; and to help him as much as possible, not with tears, but with prayers and supplications, with alms and offerings. For this was not devised in vain; nor do those who stand at the altar, while the dread mysteries are being performed, cry out without cause, "For all those who have fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who offer up remembrances of them," but these things are done by the ordinance of the Holy Spirit. For if the sacrifice of the father purified the children of Job, why do you doubt that we, too, offering for the departed, will bring them some consolation? Let us not, therefore, weep for the dead rashly, but let us weep for those who died in their riches, and have procured no consolation for their own souls from their riches: who also have had the opportunity to wash away their own sins, and would not; let us weep for these, both privately and publicly, all of us, not for one day or two, but all our life, and let us help them with all our strength. Let us provide them with some help, a small help, indeed, yet let us bring them help. But who, and by what means? By pouring out prayers, and by exhorting others to make prayers for them, and finally by giving alms continually for them to the poor. This matter has some consolation: for hear God saying: "I will defend this city for My own sake, and for David My servant" (4 Kings 19:34). But if the memory of a righteous man alone could do so much, if even works are performed for him, what will they not be able to do? These things were not ordained in vain by the apostles, that there should be a commemoration of the departed during the dread mysteries. They know that much gain, much profit, arises from it for them. For when the whole people stands, stretching forth their hands to heaven, and the priestly company too, and the dread sacrifice is set forth, how could we not appease God, by praying for these? Truly, we say this concerning those who have departed in the faith: but catechumens are not even held worthy of this consolation, but are destitute of every such help, with one exception. What is that? It is permitted to give to the poor continually in their name: which thing provides them with no small consolation. It is not, therefore, a bad thing to die, but to die badly. Do you wish that I should tell your charity why we fear death? The love of the kingdom has not wounded us, nor does the desire for future things set us on fire: for otherwise all present things

would not have terrified us—neither death, nor loss of money, nor anything else of that kind. Give me, then, the confidence to speak about the kingdom of heaven, and, if you wish, slaughter me today; I shall even be grateful to you for the slaughter, because you are sending me quickly to those good things.

But I fear dying unjustly, you say. What are you saying, tell me? Do you fear dying unjustly? But would you have preferred to die justly? And who is so wretched and miserable that, when it is possible to die unjustly, he would rather choose to die justly? For if we must fear death, we must fear the one that comes upon us justly; for the one who dies unjustly, by that very fact, participates with all the saints. For most of those who have pleased God have undergone an unjust end; and first, Abel. For he had not transgressed at all against his brother, nor had he offended Cain, but because he honored God, for this reason he was slaughtered. And did God allow it—was He loving him or hating him? It is evident that He loved him, and wished to make his crown more brilliant through this most unjust slaughter. Do you see that we ought not to fear dying unjustly, but dying in our sins? Abel died unjustly; Cain lived groaning and trembling. Who then, tell me, was more blessed? He who ended his life with justice, or he who lived in sin? He who died unjustly, or he who was punished justly?

And what is more grievous than murder, tell me? Yet it was able at some point to produce justice for the one who committed it; and listen to how. The Midianites once, wishing to make war on God in the person of the Jews, and hoping to prevail over them in this way if they could deprive them of the favor of the Master, adorned maidens and set them before the army, and lured them, and led them into fornication. When Phinehas saw this, taking a sword and catching those who were fornicating, [в] he ran both of them through in the very act of sinning, not hating those who were taken away, but sparing the rest. And while what happened was a murder, what was achieved therefrom was the salvation of all who were perishing; he killed two and saved countless myriads. And just as physicians, by cutting away the rotting limbs, save the whole body, so too did he do, and it was reckoned to him for justice.

Let us not, therefore, simply weep for those who are dying, but for those who are dying in their sins; these are worthy of lamentations, these of beating of breasts and tears. For what hope, tell me, is there to depart with sins, where there is no opportunity to put off sins? For as long as they were here, there was perhaps much expectation that they would repent, that they would be better; but if they depart to Hades, where there is no way to gain anything from repentance (for "in Hades," he says, "who will confess to You?" [Ps. 6:6]), how then are they not worthy of lamentations? Let us weep, therefore, for those who are departing in this way; I do not forbid weeping, but let it not be done indecently, not tearing hair, not baring arms, not scratching the face, but rather shedding a small, quiet tear from the soul; this indeed benefits us. For he who mourns him thus will himself be much more zealous never to fall into the same things. Again, when you see a corpse carried through the forum, orphan children following, a widowed wife being distraught, servants wailing, friends downcast, consider the vanity of present things, and that it differs in no way from shadows and dreams.

Observe for me the houses of the great and famous, and how they have now been brought down to the ground; consider how powerful they once were, and now not even a memory of them is left. For many tyrants have sat upon the ground, and one who was not suspected has worn the diadem [Eccl. 11:5]. But is this not enough? Consider also before death, when you sleep, what you are worth; will not even a small beast be able to kill you? For many times a small little creature brought down from the roof or gouged out an eye, or became the cause of some other danger. Reflect on these things; and do not admire the flower of the human face, nor the lifted neck, nor the cloak and the horse and the attendants; but consider where all these things end. But if you admire the things that are seen, I will tell you of those in the Scriptures that are much more brilliant than these. But even as we do not admire those because of their appearance, seeing their substance, that the whole thing is clay, so too do not admire these; for these also are clay, or rather, even before they are dissolved and become dust. Show me this man who is lifted up, fever-stricken, breathing his last, and then I will converse with you and ask: Where now are those who with much arrogance, and with many attendant servants, were bragging in the forum? Those who were dressed in silk, and breathing of perfumes, and feeding parasites, and always fastened to the stage? Where is the luxury of those feasts, the multitude of musicians, the flattery of the sycophants, the excessive laughter, the relief of the soul, the diffusion of the mind, the life that was lush and loose and superfluous? *Everything has departed and flown away.* What has become of the body that enjoyed such care and purity? Go to the coffin, behold the dust, the ashes, the worms, the foulness of the place; behold and groan bitterly.

And would that the loss were only up to the ashes; but now move your reasoning from the coffin and these worms to that never-ending worm, to the gnashing of teeth, to the outer darkness, to the unquenchable fire, and to those bitter and unbearable punishments, which stretch into ages without end. For here both the good things and the grievous have an end, and this very quickly; but there both are extended into immortal ages; and in quality, they differ from the present things so much that it is impossible to express. What then has become of that great luxury? And where has gone all that flattery and the serving of slaves, and the abundance of money and possessions? What wind, having entered, blew them all away? And what is the meaning of this superfluous and useless expense at the funeral, bringing much loss to those who conduct the funeral, but no profit to him who has departed? When you hear that the Master rose naked, cease from the madness of the funeral. For not even when Christ said, "You saw me hungry, and fed me; thirsty, and you gave me drink; naked, and you clothed me" [Matt. 25:35-36], did He add, "And dead, and you buried me." For if He commands that even the living should have nothing more than a covering, much more so those who have departed. What defense, then, shall we have, when...

811 S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE

and abundance of possessions? What wind has rushed in and blown everything away? And what is the meaning of that fleeting and useless expense on funerals, which brings great loss to those who bear the cost, but no benefit to the deceased? When you hear that the Lord rose from the dead naked, abandon your madness in caring for a funeral. For Christ, when He said, "For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was naked and you clothed Me," He did not add to these: "For I was dead and you buried Me." For if He commands us to have nothing more than clothing while we are alive, how much more so for the dead? What excuse, therefore, shall we have when we adorn a body that is dissolving into corruption and worms, while we despise Christ who is hungry and thirsty, who wanders about naked and is a stranger? But, he says, the dead man lying on his bed shows signs of his pride and wealth, while splendid garments are put upon him, and the poor and rich lead him forth, and the people pray for his success. But even these are most worthy of scorn; yet these too shall immediately be refuted like a fading flower. For when we have crossed the threshold of the city gates, and, with the body abandoned to the worms, we return, I will ask you again: Where has all that multitude of people gone? What now is that shouting and tumult? Where are those faces now, where are the choirs of women? Are these not a dream? And what is that clamor? 812 Where are those many mouths that were shouting and encouraging him to be of good cheer, because no one is immortal? Yet these things should not have been said to someone who was not listening; but when he was plundering, when he was acting greedily, then it would have been necessary to say, as we alternated: "One must not be confident; no one is immortal." If someone were to build a house for you where you were not going to stay, you would consider it a loss: yet now you desire to become rich here, from where you must often leave even before evening. Restrain this madness, curb this desire. Say instead, "Be of good cheer," to him who suffers injury. But even if these things do not profit him, since he has already left the stadium, at least let those who are held by the same diseases and accompany him to the tomb listen. For since they do not perceive any of these things in their minds before, due to the drunkenness of money: at least at that time, when the very sight of the one lying there gives credence to what is said, let them come to their senses, let them be schooled, understanding that a little while later, those who lead them away will also lead them to those terrible reckonings, and to pay the penalty for the evils they have committed here. Therefore, let us not suffer the same things as them; let us endeavor, to the best of our ability, to come to our senses and mend our ways, so that we may attain the future blessings as well, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and imperium, with the Father and the life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXXII. On Magnanimity and Fortitude.

Ignorance makes the soul sluggish and effeminate, not by nature, but by the choice of the will. For when I see him who was once magnanimous now become effeminate, I say that the vice is not of nature; for those things which are of nature are immutable. Again, when I see the sluggish suddenly become bolder, I make the same calculation. For the disciples were very sluggish before they were properly instructed, and were counted worthy of the gift of the Spirit, and finally they became bolder than lions. And Peter, who had not endured the threats of a slave-girl, was hung upside down and scourged, and, facing a thousand dangers, did not keep silent. Therefore, one must neither avoid dangers, nor must one rush headlong into them: for in this way our victory will be more glorious, and the devil's defeat more worthy of derision. For those who are dragged into them must stand firmly, and those who are called must be at rest, and wait for the time of the trials, so that we may exhibit both a contempt for vainglory and fortitude. For to exhibit boldness rashly often belongs to the common crowd of men; but to use it at an opportune time, and when one ought, and with moderation and prudence, is the sign of a very great and wonderful mind. For that man alone is magnanimous, even if he lies on a bed, who is endowed with inward fortitude: without it, even if he could tear up a mountain by his strength, I would not call him stronger than a girl or an old woman. For the former struggles with incorporeal evils, which the latter would not even dare to look at. Do you wish, therefore, to learn that no one is stronger than he who is fortified with help from above, and no one weaker than he who is devoid of that help, even if that truly strong man is surrounded by a thousand armies? David was quite young, and because of his immature age remained in his father's house, when he is sent by his father to visit his brothers. When, therefore, he arrived there and saw the war being brought on by Goliath the alien, and the entire people terrified along with their king; he wanted to be a spectator, and went to see a new and stupendous thing: that a single man was provoking so many thousands of men. And he said, "Who is this alien who reproaches the army of the living God, and what will be given to the man who will cut off his head?" (1 Reg. 17:26). Having learned this, Saul summons the young man, who knew nothing more than the shepherd's office; and having seen his age, he looked down upon him. Then, when he had learned from him how he had dealt with bears when they were invading the flock, he wanted to cover him with his own armor; but he, when he had put these on, was unable to bear them. This, however, was done so that the naked power of God might be shown, which was working through him, lest they should attribute the feat to those weapons. For because he was limping while wearing them, he put off the arms; and having taken up the shepherd's scrip with stones, he thus proceeded against that tower of flesh. But look again at the alien who despises the baseness of his age and on that account holds the righteous one in contempt. For when he saw him approaching with the shepherd's scrip, and bursting in with only stones, he addresses him in these words: "Do you think, as you did before, that you are tending a flock and chasing away some dogs? And therefore, driving me off like some dog, you approach to fight me with the same weapons? Now you will learn by experience that you are not to contend against an ordinary man." And using magnificent words, he was breaking in, moving all his armor, and [the] weapons [of the] ...

^A tyrant, and he was contemplating Him who reigns above; he saw the torments being brought upon him below, and he was counting the prizes above; he saw the present punishment, and he was weighing the future immortality. But was not Esau greater? Was he not the firstborn? Was he not beloved by his father? But, by betraying himself through sin, he fell from the birthright, and was condemned to serve the younger. For the Lord said, he says, to Rebecca, through the priest: "Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples in your belly shall be divided; and people shall be stronger than people, and the greater shall serve the younger" (Gen. 25: 23). See the prediction clearly indicating all that was to happen. For indeed, the children leaping and jumping in the womb already accurately predicted all things. Finally, the woman learned not only that she would bear two sons, but also that they would extend into nations, and that the younger would rule over the greater. And when finally the time of childbearing arrived, "he came out," it says, "the firstborn, red, as a hairy skin; and after these things his brother came out, and his hand was holding his brother's heel; and he called his name Jacob" (Ibid. v. 24-26). ^B Indeed, even from the very beginning, God was showing that the younger would be superior to the elder, according to what was said. For he was holding, it says, the heel of Esau with his hand, which was a sign that he was to be a conqueror of him who seemed to be the strong one.

But when the time calls, I shall now hasten the discourse to the most blessed Paul; for I am burning with desire for the man, and for this reason I do not cease to turn back to him constantly. Let no one therefore be wearied by the enterprise. For if a barbarian war surrounded us, and the enemies were providing us with countless problems in the line of battle, then the general of the barbarians—he who brings countless machines and confuses all our affairs and fills everything with great din and turmoil, and threatens to raze the very city and deliver it to fire, and threatens us with slavery ^C — were suddenly bound by our King, a captive being led into the city, would we not all, with wives and children, rush out to that spectacle?

Since, however, a war has now been established, with the Jews raising a din and troubling everything, and bringing many machines against the security of the Church, and the head of the enemies is Paul—he who does and says greater things than all, he who confuses and troubles everything—but our Lord Jesus Christ, our King, has bound him, has bound and led him captive: shall we not all go out to this spectacle, so as to see him being led captive? For indeed, the angels from the heavens, seeing him bound and brought in, were exulting—not because they saw him bound, but because they were considering how many men he was about to release from bonds; ^D not because they beheld him being led by the hand, but because they were calculating how many he was about to lead by the hand from earth to heaven; not because they saw him blinded, but because they considered how many he was about to lead out of darkness. For this reason I too, leaving behind all others, hasten to leap toward Paul; for Paul, and the desire for Paul, has compelled us to take this leap. For what could be more fervent than the bowels of this man, who was running throughout the inhabited world, being dragged about, stoned, bound, so that he might release those who were bound and translate them unto himself? For he was not accomplishing these things as one struggling, but as one coming for a ready and prepared victory. Thus he was erecting trophies, razing, overthrowing, cast down the strongholds of the devil and the machines of the demons, and he did not breathe even for a little, leaping from these to those, and again from those to others, and just like a most excellent general, setting up trophies every single day...

^A nay, indeed, at every hour. For entering into the battle with but a tunic, he would capture cities along with their inhabitants. The tongue of Paul was his bow, his spear, his javelin, and all his weaponry. For he would only speak, and his words, falling upon the enemies more vehemently than fire, would drive out the demons and bring back the men held captive by them to himself.

For when he cast out that evil spirit, five times ten thousand magicians came together, burned their magic books, and transferred themselves to the truth. And just as in war, when a tower falls or a tyrant is cast down, all those who were with him throw down their weapons and hasten to the general; so too did it happen then. For the demon having been cast out, all who were besieged, throwing down their books—or rather, cutting them loose—hastened to the feet of Paul.

^B He, however, having pitched his camp across the entire world, did not stand still anywhere, but, as if he were winged, did everything at once; now he raised the lame, now he restored the dead, now he blinded another—I mean a magician. And not even when locked in prison did he keep quiet, but even there he brought the jailer over to himself, working this beautiful captivity. David is admired, who struck down Goliath with a single stone; but if one examines the mighty deeds of Paul, that seems the work of a little child; and as great as the difference is between a shepherd and a general, so great is the difference between that feat and this. For this man did not strike down the spiritual Goliath with a cast of a stone, but simply by speaking, he shattered the entire phalanx of the devil. And like a roaring lion, emitting flame from his tongue, so was he formidable as he rushed [upon them], ^C and he was untiring as he went about everywhere. He would run to these, he would come to those, he would be transferred to these, he would hasten to others, moving faster than the wind, and as if governing the whole world like a single house or a single ship; bringing back those who were sinking, strengthening those who were reeling, commanding the sailors, sitting at the prow of the ship, examining the mast, stretching the ropes, handling the rudder, pulling the sail, looking up to heaven—he was everything, sailor, pilot, prow-man, sail, and ship itself; suffering everything, so that he might remedy the evils of others.

And as a certain athlete, fighting, running, or boxing; or a soldier storming walls, fighting on foot, or repelling an enemy on a ship: so did he engage in every kind of combat, breathing fire, and yet was he unapproachable, taking the world into one body and conquering all with a single tongue. Not so did those many trumpets strike the stones of the city of Jericho and throw them down, as the resounding ^D voice of Paul leveled the demonic fortifications to the ground, and transferred the enemies to himself. And through a window he was let down from the wall, so that having been placed below, he might send upward those who were cast down upon the ground. And just as one soldier, having the entire world fighting against him, might be in the midst of the enemy wedges and suffer nothing evil, so too did Paul, alone among barbarians, among Greeks, everywhere on land, everywhere on the seas, remain unassailable. And just as a spark falling into chaff and hay, which it consumes and converts into its own nature, so too did this man, approaching all, transfer everyone to the truth. For what tell me, I pray, is more glorious than Nero according to the glory of the world, or what is more high? But what is more vile than Paul, what more abject

to amass for himself, and never cease to hasten, and to prepare to do battle in the face of dangers on behalf of the truth, and to accumulate spiritual merchandise for himself, and never to stand still? ^A What apology could we possibly have, we who are not only destitute of all righteous deeds, but are also subject to so many failings, even one of which—were it present in us—is sufficient to drag us down into the very abyss of destruction, and yet we make no effort to correct even these, let alone to apply ourselves to the works of virtue? Was that blessed man not of the same nature as we are? I am kindled with affection for the man, and for this reason I do not cease to turn the subject over in my discourse; and as if looking at an archetypal image, gazing upon his soul, I reflect on his disregard for passions, his excess of courage, the burning intensity of his love for God; and I am struck with wonder, how a single man, having the will to do so, attained the full collection of all virtues, whereas each of us is unwilling to attain even the slightest. ^B Who, then, shall deliver us from that inescapable punishment, when Paul, who shared our same nature, who was subject to the same passions, who lived in such a time of difficulty, and who, so to speak, was daily being dragged, torn to pieces, and dragged about in public by those who fought against his preaching, exhibited such a great height of virtue? And so that you might not hear from our tongue the righteous deeds and the courage which he displayed daily on behalf of the proclamation of piety, it is necessary to hear him saying, *In that wherein anyone dares, I speak in foolishness, I dare also* (2 Cor. 11:21). Observe a soul that loves God. He calls the matter not only daring, but also foolishness, educating us not to parade abroad in simplicity, without necessity, when no one is compelling us, the things done by us, even if some among us were to be found to have done some good thing. *Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I* (Ibid. v. 22). On these things, he says, do they pride themselves? Let them not think that we are left behind; for we too share in the same. Then he added, *Are they ministers of Christ? I speak as a fool, I am more* (Ibid. v. 23). Behold for me here the virtue of this blessed man’s soul. Since he called his action both daring and foolishness, even though he had been placed in such great necessity, he was not even then content with what had been said; but when he was about to show himself far exceeding them in measure, so that no one might think he was speaking these things from vainglory, he again calls what he says foolishness; as if to say, "Do I not know that I am doing a thing that appears strange to many and is not becoming to me? But the great necessity that pushed me to this drives me; therefore, forgive me," he says, "for speaking words of foolishness." If only we would imitate even the shadow of this man, we who have so many loads of sins lying upon us, and who often accomplish some small thing, and do not even suffer that to be kept in the storehouses of the mind, but because we hunt for glory from men, we ^C parade it abroad, and place it in the midst, and through this untimely chatter we deprive ourselves of the reward from God. But this blessed man suffered no such thing, but once he said, *I am more*, he proceeds to enumerate the deeds of his courage, and says, *In labor and travail, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness, beside the things that are without* (2 Cor. 11:27-28). See again another sea of temptations opening up for us; for by saying, *besides the things that are without*, he hinted that those things omitted were likely greater than the things mentioned. And he did not stop even at this, but again teaches us the pressing crowds and the distresses which he endured, by saying, *My daily pressure, the care of all the Churches* (Ibid. v. 28). Behold, this too is a sufficient righteous deed, if it stands alone, leading him up to that very summit of virtue. *The care*, he says, *of all the Churches*: not of one and two and three, but of all the Churches throughout the inhabited earth which the sun traverses, casting its own rays; such great care and concern did this blessed man have. Do you see the breadth of his soul? Do you see the magnitude of his mind? And the statement that follows again, one might say, overshadows all that has been said: *For who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I am not burned?* (Ibid. v. 29). Bravo! How great was the affection of this man! How great his watchfulness! How great his concern! What mother is so torn in her bowels, when her child is feverish and lying on his bed, as this blessed man was more distressed for those who were weak in every place, and was burned for those who were being scandalized? For observe for me the emphasis of the expression. He did not say, "Who is scandalized, and I am not grieved," but, *Who is scandalized, and I am not burned?* he says; declaring to us the intensity of his pain, and all but showing himself to be set on fire and consumed within on behalf of those enduring the causes of scandal. I know that I have extended my speech to a great length, but I do not know how, having fallen upon the wealth of the righteous deeds of this saint, I was dragged along by my tongue, just as by a rush of most violent waters. Therefore, having stopped my speech here, I exhort your love to keep this continuously in your mind, and to consider this constantly: that since he shared our same nature, and was subject to the same passions, and had a lowly and despised trade—dressing skins and standing in a workshop—once he willed and desired to surrender himself to the labors of virtue, and to make himself worthy of the reception of the Holy Spirit, he enjoyed more abundant favor from above. May we all obtain this, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and for the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXXIII

might receive honor, but was offering him service; not as if he were present to a man, but as to God. The ointment ^A indeed, for this reason she poured out, and wiped it with the hairs of her head; things which were not for one who held such an opinion of him as the many did. But Judas rebuked her, under the pretext, of course, of piety. What, then, does Christ say? “Let her alone... against the day of my burying hath she kept this” (John 12:7).

Why, however, did he not rebuke the disciple because of the woman, and why did he not say this same thing which the evangelist says, that he rebuked the woman for the sake of making theft? It was because, out of his great longsuffering, he wished to shame him. For although he knew that he was a traitor, he had already rebuked him before, saying ^B often: “Do not all believe?” and, “One of you is a devil” (John 6:65, 71). He had made it clear, therefore, that he knew he was a traitor; yet he did not rebuke him openly, but restrained himself, wishing to recall him. How, then, does another say that all the disciples said the same thing? Both he and they [said it], but the others not from the same intent.

If any one, however, should examine why, when he was a thief, he entrusted the purse of the poor to him, and made him, who was a lover of money, the steward; we would say that Jesus knew that secret. If, however, we must also speak out of our own estimation, it was in order to cut off every occasion [for him to fall]. For he could not say that he had acted in such a way ^C because of a love of money; for he had sufficient relief for his desire from the purse; but rather out of a great wickedness, which, if he had wished to restrain, he would not have betrayed his benefactor.

But Christ, having used much accommodation toward him, bore with him patiently. And therefore he did not rebuke him as he was stealing, thus restraining his evil desire, so as to take away every excuse from him: wherefore he said, “Let her alone; against the day of my burying hath she kept this.” Again he brought to mind the burial for the traitor. But this rebuke did not prick him, nor did this saying soften him, although it could have stirred him to pity: as if he were saying, “I am troubled and burdened; but wait a little, and I will depart.” ^D For this very thing he indicated when he said, “Me you will not have always” (John 12:8). But none of these things softened that savage and frenzied man; even though he himself said much more, and on that same night washed his feet, and received him at the table.

Now a great crowd of the Jews knew that Jesus was in Bethany; and they came, not for his sake only, but also that they might see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead (Ibid. v. 9). And here, having seen the miracle, many believed. The rulers, however, not content with their own evils, attempted to kill Lazarus also. For the chief priests consulted that they might kill Lazarus also, because many on his account were going away from the Jews, and believing in Jesus (Ibid. v. 10–11).

Let it be that they wanted to kill Christ, because he was breaking the sabbath, because he was making himself equal to the Father, and because of the Romans, as they were saying, lest they take away both their place and nation: what accusation could they bring against Lazarus that they might attempt to kill him, unless perhaps that they might rightfully be called into a charge? Do you see their bloody mind? Although he had performed many signs, yet nothing so enraged them—not the paralytic, not the blind man. For this was more wonderful than even nature, and it was done after many other [signs]; and it was a thing of amazement to see a four-day dead man walking and speaking.

O the folly of the chief priests! For it was a noble work of the feast-day to mingle the celebration with slaughter. Otherwise, however, there they seemed to be accusing him about the sabbath, and to be leading the crowd astray by this error; here, however, since they had no place to falsely accuse, they turn their attempt against the one who had been healed. Here, indeed, they could not say that he was opposing the Father: for their very prayer stopped their mouths. Because, therefore, this constant cause for accusation had been removed, and the sign was brilliant, they prepared themselves for slaughter. And so they would have done the same thing regarding the blind man, had they not had a place to accuse him concerning the sabbath. Otherwise, however, that man was obscure, and they had cast him out of the temple; but this man was more notable, as is plain from the fact that many were coming for the consolation of his sisters: and to all who were seeing it, the miracle had been published, and in a very stupendous way: therefore all were running to the spectacle. This, therefore, was gnawing at them, that the festival being left, all were coming to Bethany. They attempted, therefore, to kill him, and did not think they were undertaking an evil thing; such were they, bloodthirsty. Therefore the law starts from this, “Thou shalt not kill” (Exod. 20:15), it says. And the prophet accuses them regarding this matter with these words: “Their hands are full of blood” (Isa. 1:15).

On the next day a great crowd, which had come to the feast-day, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees, and went forth to meet him, and were crying out, “Hosanna, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel” (John 12:12–13)! How, therefore, when he was not walking openly in Judea, and was withdrawing to the desert, does he again enter with confidence? Because through his withdrawal he had extinguished their frenzy, now that they were calmed he approaches; and besides, the multitude which was preceding and following was enough to cast them into fear. For no sign had so drawn the crowd as that of Lazarus. But another evangelist says, “They spread their garments beneath his feet,” and, “The whole city was stirred”: with such honor he entered.

Jesus, having found a young ass, sat upon it, as it is written, “Fear not, daughter of Sion: behold thy King cometh, sitting on an ass's colt” (Luke 19:56; Matth. 21:10; John 12:14–15). But he was doing this fulfilling one prophecy, and figuring another; and this was the end of the one, but the beginning of the other. For that [saying], “Fear not, daughter of Sion: be glad that thy King cometh unto thee meek” (Matth. 21:5), was a prophecy then fulfilled; but that he sat upon an ass, presignified a future thing, that he would have the impure race of the Gentiles subject to him. How, however, do the evangelists say that he sent the disciples, and said, “Loose the ass and the colt” (Mark 11:2); here, however, he says nothing similar, but that “an ass having been found, he sat upon it”? Because both was to happen; and after the ass was loosed, the disciples coming and finding the young ass, he sat upon it. But they were casting branches of palms and olives, and garments beneath, so as to show that they [were...

ment of him, and have an opinion regarding what the prophet said; and they were saying, "Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord" (John 12:13). You see that this especially choked the chief priests and scribes—that all were persuaded that he is not an adversary of God? And this especially divided the populace, that he claimed to have come from the Father. The passage, "Fear not, rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion," says the prophet, because all their kings were for the most part unjust and rapacious, and they surrendered even them to their enemies, and corrupted the multitude, and made them ^A liable to their enemies. "Take courage," he says; "this one is not like that, but is gentle and modest," and this is shown by the donkey. For he did not enter dragging armies after him, but had only a donkey. And these things, he says, his disciples did not know when they were happening, that these things were written about him, and they did these things to him. Do you see that they were doing the majority of things in ignorance? But when he rose from the dead, then they remembered that these things were written about him, and these things they did to him; and he himself had not revealed it. For when he said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (John 2:19), not even this did his disciples understand. And another evangelist says that the word was hidden from them, and they did not know that he must rise from the dead (Mark 9:9). But this was reasonably hidden; for which reason another evangelist says that hearing daily about the passion, they were pained and were in sorrow, because they did not know the doctrine of the resurrection (Matt. 17:22). This therefore was reasonably hidden, as it was greater than them. ^B Yet regarding the donkey, why was it not revealed to them? Because this too was a great thing. And consider the philosophy of the evangelist, how he is not ashamed to parade their prior ignorance: for that things were written, they knew; but that they were about him, they did not know; for they would have been scandalized if a king were destined to suffer such things. And otherwise, they would not have immediately grasped the knowledge of the kingdom of which he was speaking. For another evangelist says that they thought this was being spoken of regarding that kingdom. The crowd, therefore, that was with him testified that he called Lazarus from the tomb, and raised him from the dead (John 12:17). For this reason the crowd met him, because they heard that he had performed this sign. For not so many would have turned aside of a sudden, he says, if they had not believed in the sign. The Pharisees said to themselves, "You see that you are profiting nothing? Behold, the world has gone after him" (Ibid. v. 19). This seems to me to be the claim of those who held a sound opinion, but dared not speak openly. And Paul also, while discussing the resurrection, brought up this argument. What defense, then, will those have who do not believe in the resurrection? Wherefore, beloved, that we may not occupy you in vain, and construct a labyrinthine argument, we shall leave these things aside and say this: Hold fast to the hearing of the Divine Scriptures, and do not disputatiously wrangle over nothing profitable for the destruction of the hearers. For Paul also exhorted Timothy, although he was filled with much wisdom and possessed the power of signs. Let us, therefore, be persuaded by him, and leaving aside trifles, let us hold to works—I speak of brotherly love and hospitality—and let us make much account of almsgiving, so that we may attain the promised goods, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father, together with the holy Spirit, be glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XXXIV. On the Holy Nativity of Christ.

The feast of all feasts has arrived, and has filled the world with gladness: the feast that is the acropolis of all good things, the fountain and root of ^C the goods we possess, through which the heaven was opened, the Spirit was sent down, the middle wall was removed, the hedge was taken away, things divided were joined, the darkness was extinguished, the light shone; heaven received the nature from the earth, the earth received Him who sits upon the Cherubim; servants have become free, enemies sons, aliens heirs. Through it, the long-standing enmity was destroyed and the long war, and the peace long desired by angels and just men has arrived. And Paul cries out, saying: "Christ is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the middle wall of the hedge, the enmity in his flesh" (Ephes. 2:14). Through it the trophy of the cross was raised, bright and renowned, the spoils of Christ, the first-fruits of our nature, the booty of our King. What, then, could be equal to this feast? God on earth, man in heaven, angels dancing with men, men communing with angels and the other powers above; demons flee, death is destroyed, paradise is opened, the curse is vanished, sin is removed, error is driven away, truth has returned; and nature, for whose sake the Cherubim guarded paradise, is today united to God. Do not, then, be held in doubt while hearing these things; for that which is full of astonishment, and beyond all hope and expectation, is that God should become man. This having come to pass, all that follows happens in reason and sequence. For he did not humble himself so much in vain and to no purpose, unless he intended to exalt us. He was born, therefore, according to the flesh, that you might be born according to the Spirit; he was born of a woman, that you might cease to be a son ^D of a woman; he suffered his Father to become a servant, that he might make the Master a father to you, the servant. Therefore, let us all exult and leap for joy, rejoicing in our own good things. For if the patriarch Abraham rejoiced to see the day of the Lord, and he saw, and was glad (John 8:56); much more ought we, seeing God in swaddling clothes, that dread and paradoxical spectacle, to rejoice and exult and wonder and be astounded at the magnitude of his beneficence. But how has this wonderful and great event come to pass? How have we who have offended, who appeared unworthy of the earth, and fell from the authority from below, been lifted to such a height? How was the war destroyed? How was the wrath taken away? How? For this is what is wonderful and full of astonishment, that not by us, who had offended, running forward, not by our having routed the enemies and foes; but he, who was justly indignant, became our advocate, so that peace was made.

For we act as ambassadors for Christ, as though God were entreating through us (II Cor. V, 20). What is this? He is the one who was outraged, and he is the one who entreats? Yes, he says; for he is good, and for this reason he entreats. And if you wish, by leading the discourse to a higher point, we shall endeavor to show that, with no good deed of man having preceded it, out of his goodness alone he bestowed upon him both present and future things. But attend carefully. Before the angels and other celestial Powers were made, God was, who never had a beginning of existence, and who never stood in need of anything: for such is the divine nature. He made angels, archangels, and other incorporeal essences; yet he made them for no other reason than out of his goodness: for he would not have been their creator, had he no need of their ministry, if he were not supremely good. After the creation of these, he subsequently made man for this very same reason, and all this world, which he filled with countless good things, and set that small and insignificant man as lord over such great works, and declared him on earth to be that which he himself is in the heavens. But when he had made him and set him in such great honor, just as for a king a palace, he assigned to him Paradise, the most beautiful of all things on earth. Nor did he honor him with this alone, but to him alone of all, he gave reason, and deemed him worthy of the knowledge of himself, and willed that he should enjoy his own converse, as much as it was possible for him to enjoy; he also promised immortality, and filled him with much wisdom, and gave him spiritual grace, so that he might even prophesy. What then after such and so great good things? He deemed the Enemy more worthy of trust than the one who had adorned him with such gifts, and despising the precept of the Creator, he preferred the deceit of him who wished to destroy him utterly. Did God, therefore, annul him who from the beginning and from the very first line, so to speak, had manifested such an ungrateful spirit, which was the consequence that followed logically for the just man? By no means; but rather he took more care of the one who had fallen than before. Afterwards, when our race was acting wickedly, so that it seemed in danger of falling from the land itself, he did not cast it off, but took such care of those who had offended him, that the Lord defended himself before the slave, and spoke to him as to a friend of equal honor, and stated the causes of the future destruction. Afterwards, he gave a law for help, he sent prophets, who might indicate the things that were to be done. Finally, he sent his only-begotten Son, born of a woman, made under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. Wherefore also the prophet, stunned by his great solicitude for the world, exclaimed with a great and clear voice, saying: ^A Our God appeared upon the earth, and conversed with men (Baruch III, 38). For it is truly a very astonishing thing to hear, that God, the ineffable, the inexpressible, the incomprehensible, equal to the Father, and the true Son of God, who is without beginning, came through a virginal womb, and accepted to be born of a woman, ^B who did not cease first, doing and contriving all things, until he brought us, who were enemies and foes, to God and made us friends. And just as someone standing in the middle of two who are at variance, with hands extended, taking the hand of each, settles the strife: so too did he, joining his own divine nature to ours. Do you see the hyperbole of kindness? He himself, though outraged, entreats, as I said, and brought about reconciliation. See next how he overthrew the tyrant... how any king, having laid aside his purple and diadem, might often assume the habit of a soldier, so that he might not be known and drive away his enemies. ^C But here it is the opposite; Christ came in our habit, so that, if he were known, he might not compel the enemy to flee from the conflict with him, and disturb all his own: for he was concerned to bestow salvation, not to terrify. And why, you will say, was such a reconciliation not made through some incorporeal power, or through a simple man, but through the humiliation of the Word? Because if he had decided that we should receive the common salvation of our race through another, we would not have recognized the magnitude of his providence towards us; nay, that which is held as an object of admiration throughout every age, would have degenerated into some vile and not truly ^D marvelous thing. For for a creature to be joined to a creature, and to accept the condition of a fellow-servant, bears nothing ineffable, nor does it present anything astounding. [alt-version omitted] Otherwise, however, how could man have perfected the divine work of God? And if it had been done, which could not be, the fall would have been swifter, and he would more easily have returned to his own condition, or grown worse. For if they thought to call Moses god after his death, against whom they often murmured, and made the salvation sent to them from above through him worse than the Egyptian evils, so that for this reason, as some say, his sepulcher remained hidden and unknown to the eyes of the Jews to this day: how would they not have proclaimed him God who had delivered them from a greater tyranny, even if they had known him to be of the same nature as themselves? It is certainly plain that from this they would not have risen from their fall, but would have fallen into a graver and more incurable ruin. After these things, we can state another reason, on account of which, if either an angel or a simple man had been chosen to liberate us from the fall, we would not have attained salvation, but would have fallen from that which is most beautiful and most precious in that ineffable glory. Which is that? We would not have been able even to approach near to those things which, with the Word incarnate, we now enjoy with joy. For how would it have been granted to our race, if an angelic or human nature had undertaken this economy for us, to be established at the right hand of the Father, and to be above all angelic and archangelic choirs, and to enjoy such honor and glory, so that we stand nearer to God than the Powers above?

Homily XXXIV

^A Would he not then have dared to take the race into subjection, and to drag it down under his ancient tyranny? And against whom would he not have been emboldened to seize power, and would he not have displayed a pride greater than before, and would he not have deemed it a daring task to pry into heaven itself? Consequently, for these reasons and many such as these, the Word of God, and Son, and true God—and not some other—having taken up our flesh, worked out the common salvation of the race. And let no one accuse us of saying things unworthy of God, because for the salvation of the whole world God constructed for himself a living temple in the virgin womb, and through that, he introduced the heavenly manner of life into our own life. For what harm could happen to God from this economy? Do you not see this sun—this thing perceivable by the body, corruptible and passing, even if the Greeks are suffocated [by it]—communing with filth and many other such things, and yet not taking on the slightest bit of baseness? On the contrary, it even dries up the foul odor by the impact of its ray. Or do you not give the only-begotten Son of God the power to act equally upon our flesh, so that he is not only not polluted by it, but even makes it purer and holier? And while you yourself dare to trace the essence of God down into wood and stones, and things even more dishonorable than these, you do not shudder; yet you accuse us, saying that it is unbecoming for God to dwell in a pure and blameless body, and through it to correct the world? For if it is shameful for God to become man, as you say, it is far more so for him to be in stone and wood, to the extent that stone and wood are more dishonorable than man; unless, perhaps, our race seems to you to be more worthless than these sensible materials. But let the discourse concerning such matters be reserved for another time; it is necessary for us to bring the argument to the very words of the Gospel. For he says: ^B *The birth of Jesus Christ was in this way* (Matt. 1. 18). What birth are you speaking to me of? The one in the flesh, clearly. For concerning the beginningless birth, no one knows, except the only-begotten Son of God himself, who is in the bosom of the Father. How then is the birth of Christ according to the flesh? *When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together, she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit.* It should be noted that he did not say, "When the virgin was betrothed," but simply, *When his mother was betrothed.* He did this so that the account might be easily accepted, and not to shock [the reader] by the introduction of a paradoxical matter, saying that *before they came together, she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit.* And for what reason did she not conceive and become pregnant before the betrothal? In order that he might veil what was happening for a while, and in order that the Virgin might escape all evil suspicion. For the fact that the betrothed, who ought to have been jealous, not only did not expose her, but even received and cared for her after the pregnancy, makes this clear to all: that, having been persuaded that the operation of the one who was born was from the Holy Spirit, he held on and served [her]. And what is accustomed to be said concerning paradoxical things, this too he declares here, saying that *she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit.* ^C Having heard that it was from the Holy Spirit, do not make any other inquiries—such as, how is the Infinite in the womb? How is the one who holds all things carried by a woman? How does the Virgin give birth and remain a virgin? How did the Holy Spirit fashion that temple? And all such things. For the power of the Most High was that which overshadowed the Virgin, and the Son of God was the one being born. *Joseph however, her husband, being just, and not wishing to expose her, desired to dismiss her secretly.* So wonderful was the man, that he not only did not punish her, but he did not even speak to anyone, not even to her who was suspected; but he reasoned within himself, not to cast her out, but to dismiss her. Therefore, when he was brought to the impasse of such reasonings, then the angel stood by, loosening the strife of his thoughts. For that he was in doubt is clear from what he was thinking; for it says, *he desired to dismiss her secretly*; he would not have desired to dismiss her either secretly or at all if he had been persuaded that the womb was of illegitimate seed; but being just, he would have done so particularly by custom and punishment. But he was not persuaded of this, nor, on the other hand, of that—that the pregnancy was of divine operation; for the work was beyond human comprehension. Therefore he was surging with thoughts. When, therefore, he was shaken in these reasonings, then the angel stood by and says: *Do not fear to receive Mary your wife, for that which is begotten in her is of the Holy Spirit.* ^D He showed him to be fearing and trembling lest he offend God by the [act of] saying, "Do not fear," and [telling him] to keep her within; for this is what "to receive" means, and not to dismiss her, as he had pondered. For he says, not only is she free from unlawful mingling, but she has conceived beyond nature. For this is what he signifies by what he added, saying: *For that which is begotten in her is of the Holy Spirit.* "She will bear a son, and you will call his name Jesus." Do not think, he says, because I said, "it is of the Holy Spirit," that you are an alien to the ministry that is according to the economy; I give to you [the task] to impose the name on the one being born. For even if you contribute nothing to the birth, nonetheless, you will call his name. For even if [you are] not the father, [the angel] will point out the father's [rights] regarding him, and from the imposition of the name, you will be akin to the one being born. He did not say, "She will bear a son to you," but, *She will bear*; for she was not giving birth to him for himself, but for the whole world; therefore he added: *For he will save his people from their sins.* When he said, *his people*, he spoke not only of the Jews, but also of the Gentiles; for all who receive the knowledge from him are his people. And that it is God’s Son who is being born in him is shown by the [fact of] forgiving sins; for forgiving sins is not of any other power than that of the divine essence alone. And all this happened, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying: *Behold the virgin will be in the womb, and will bear a son, and they will call his name Emmanuel, which is translated, God with us.* I would have wished that all the Jews and Greeks were present here, and to have received this book from the Jews, and thus to read the prophecy. For you surely know this, that testimony becomes most unsuspected, both in law courts and everywhere, when it is brought from enemies. For they will not be able to say that these things were fabricated by us, since not we, but those who crucified Christ, provide us with the books that discuss his economy. But whether or not they are present, we will do our part,

^A and we shall resume the prophecy from above, so that what has been said may become easy for you to understand. For the Lord proceeded, saying to Achaz: "Ask for yourself a sign from the Lord your God, into the depth or into the height." ^B And Achaz said: "I will not ask, and I will not tempt the Lord." And Esaias said: "Hear now, O house of Israel: Is it a small thing for you to be tiresome to men, and how are you tiresome to the Lord? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and he shall call his name Emmanuel" (Isa. 7:10-14).

Since the prophet had said, "Ask for yourself a sign," and he—pretending to be very faithful—said, "I will not ask, and I will not tempt the Lord," see how, with great vehemence, the prophet represses his audacity, rightly making the accusation more severe after he had offered the proof of his hypocrisy. For this reason he does not even deign to answer him, but turns to the people, saying: "Hear, O house of David: Is it a small thing for you to be tiresome to men, and why are you tiresome to the Lord?" ^C The saying is obscure: therefore it must be explained accurately. For he wishes to signify this: "Are these my words? Is this my judgment? If it is a grave matter, and deserving of accusation, to refuse trust to men rashly and without reason, how much more so to God?" To be tiresome, therefore, is nothing other than not to believe. "Is this, then," he says, "a small crime? Or is it a light accusation not to trust men? But if this is grave, how much more grave is it not to trust God?" He said this, however, so that all might learn that the prophet was not deceived, nor circumvented by those expressions, but that he delivered judgment from what was in the mind of Achaz.

For after he had discoursed with him with great gentleness, and had freed him from his troubles, and had bidden him to take heart regarding present things, and had given signs of this matter by opening up the counsel of the enemies, and by exposing the treachery, and had predicted the eventual total destruction of Israel, and had added the time; he was not content with these things, but going further, he does not wait for him to ask for a sign; but even when he, out of the excess of his unbelief, did not want one, he urges him, and not in any way whatsoever, but he gives him the option of what sign to choose: for he did not say, "This or that sign," but, "Wherever you wish." Rich is the Lord, of every sort of power, of ineffable potency: if you wish from the heavens, nothing hinders; if from the earth, nothing forbids. For this is what "into the depth or into the height" means.

But because he did not draw him even thus, nor did he remain silent here, but—rebuking him for the correction of the hearer, and in order to show that he had neither failed nor been deceived by arguments—he reveals an arcane prophecy, which was to be for the salvation of the world, and for the amendment of all things: he says that the sign is no longer to be given to Achaz, but to the common people of the Jews. For from the beginning he intended this address; but because he [Achaz] declared himself unworthy, he addresses the common people. Therefore he says, "He will give," not "to you," but "to you [plural] a sign." To you—whom? Those who were in the house of David: for that sign blossomed from thence. ^D What, then, is the sign? "Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel." It must be observed, as I said before, that the sign is no longer being given to Achaz. And that this is not said by conjecture, the prophet himself accused and brought charges, saying: "Is it a small thing for you to be tiresome to men?" and he added: "Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: Behold, a virgin shall be with child."

But if the Jews should say that the prophet did not say 'virgin,' but 'young woman,' even thus the victory is ours: for Scripture is accustomed to use the name of young woman or girl for a virgin, as it is written in the Psalms: "Young men," he says, "and virgins, old men with the young, let them praise the name of the Lord" (Ps. 148:12). And concerning the girl for whom snares were being prepared, Moses says: "The girl cried out" (Deut. 22:24). ^A If it were not a virgin, what kind of sign would it be? For a sign ought to exceed the common sequence of events, to surpass the custom of nature, and to be stupendous and unexpected; so that all who see and hear it may signify that fact. For it is called a sign because it is an "insigne" [a mark]; but it would not be a mark, if it were hidden among common things. Therefore, if the case here were about a woman who gives birth according to the law of nature, why does he call that a sign which happens daily? For this reason, he did not say at the beginning simply "Behold, a virgin," but with the article placed before it, by which he indicates that she was singular and the only one of this kind. That this addition signifies as much, we can learn from the Gospels. For when the Jews sent to John, asking, "Who are you?" they did not say, "Are you the Christ?" [without the article], and similarly, "Are you the Prophet?" with the article: both of which were distinct things. Similarly, John beginning, did not speak without articles: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God" (John 1:1).

And with the dignity that befitted a prophet, he said, "Behold": for these things were spoken as by one seeing and imagining the things that were to come to pass, and possessing much certainty of his words. For those eyes perceived things that were not then visible more clearly than ours perceive those that are seen. For our sense can be deceived; but the grace of the Spirit provided an infallible judgment. But why, you will ask, did he not add that he would be from the Spirit? What was being said was prophecy, and it was fitting to declare it overshadowed, as I have often said, because of the wickedness of the hearers, so that they, learning these things clearly, might not burn all the books. For if they did not spare the prophets, much less would they have refrained from the writings. ^B And this is not said by conjecture; for another king in the time of Jeremias cut up the books themselves and committed them to the fire (Jer. 36:23). Do you see the intolerable fury? Do you see the unreasonable anger? He was not satisfied with abolishing the writings, but he burned them, so as to satisfy an unreasonable affection. ^C Nevertheless, even though this admirable prophet speaks obscurely, he has exhibited the whole. For a virgin remaining a virgin, whence could she give birth if not from the Holy Spirit? For to dissolve the law of nature would be a matter for none other than the Creator of nature. Wherefore, in saying, "A virgin shall bring forth," he has declared the whole. In speaking of the birth, he likewise says the name of the one born, and says: "And she shall bring forth a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel." And why, you will ask, was he not called Emmanuel, as the prophet said, but Jesus Christ? Because he did not say, "Thou shalt call," but, "They shall call," that is, the multitudes; or rather, the outcome of events. For just as Jerusalem calls the city "the city of justice" (Isa. 1:26), even if it was never so called; but by its

outcome of events it had this appellation, because of the great change for the better that had occurred and the protection of justice (for even when he calls it a harlot, it is not because the city was ever so called, but he gives the name from its wickedness; thus indeed also after these things, from its virtue). ^A Therefore, the same must be said concerning Christ, that he gave Him this name based on the outcome of events. For then did God most truly become with us, when He appeared on earth and conversed with men, and showed forth His great concern for us. For no longer is an angel, nor an archangel with us, but the Lord Himself having descended, took upon Himself the whole restoration, conversing with harlots, reclining with tax collectors, entering the houses of sinners, giving confidence to robbers, drawing to Himself the Magi, going about and correcting everything, and uniting nature itself to Himself. ^B Therefore, all these things the prophet announces beforehand, speaking at once of the birth and of the unutterable and infinite gain of those pangs. For when God is with men, there is no longer any need to fear or tremble, but to take heart for everything—which, indeed, also came to pass. For those ancient and immovable evils were dissolved; the sentence against the common race was revoked; the sinews of sin were severed; the tyranny of the devil was destroyed; the paradise inaccessible to all was opened first to a murderer and a robber; the vaults of heaven were thrown wide; men were mingled with angels; our nature was raised to the royal throne; the prison of Hades was rendered useless; the name of death remained only as a name, bereft of its substance; and there were choirs of martyrs, and women breaking the stings of Hades. ^C Seeing all these things beforehand, the prophet leaped and danced, and by one word indicated them to us, prophesying to us the Emmanuel. *Butter and honey shall he eat; before he knows or chooses evil, he shall choose the good. Because before the child knows good or evil, he disobeys wickedness to choose the good.* Since the child being born was neither merely man, nor God alone, but God in man, rightly does the prophet vary his discourse, now saying this, now that, putting forth paradoxical things, and not allowing the economy to be disbelieved ^D because of the magnitude of the miracle. For having said that "the virgin shall bring forth," which was above nature, and that "he shall be called Emmanuel," which was also greater than expectation, lest anyone hearing of Emmanuel should suffer the things of Marcion or be sick with those of Valentinus, because of the economy, he expressly added even the clearest proof of the economy, confirming it from the table. For what does he say? *Butter and honey shall he eat.* Now this could not be of divinity, but of our nature. For because of this, He did not merely form a man and dwell in him, but He even endured a conception, and one of nine months, and pangs and swaddling clothes, and food from earliest infancy, so that through all things He might stop the mouths of those attempting to deny the economy. Seeing these things from above, therefore, the prophet does not speak only of the pangs and the wondrous birth, but also of the food in early infancy, the one in those very swaddling clothes, which in no way differs from other men, nor has anything strange in this regard. For not all things were strange regarding Him, nor were all things common; for to be born of a woman is common, but to be born of a virgin is greater than us. And again, to be nourished by the common law of nature, and by the same as many others, is common; but for that temple to become inaccessible to wickedness, and not even to come to the experience of wickedness, this is strange and paradoxical and of Him alone. For this reason he put forth both: for having said, *Butter and honey shall he eat*, he added: *Because before the child knows good or evil, he disobeys wickedness to choose the good.* Again, with the same words he hints at the same meaning, and lingers upon the statement. For since what was said was very elevated, he confirms it by the continuity of the narrative. For what he signified above, when he said: *Before he knows or chooses evil*, this he hinted at later by saying: *Before the child knows*, and he uses an explanation again, saying: *good or evil, he disobeys wickedness to choose the good.* For his own [will] alone was the exceptional thing. For this reason also Paul turns it round constantly. For since he was about to die, lest any of the unbelievers should think that he pays the penalty for his own sins, he constantly brings his sinlessness into the midst, so that he might show his death to be a ransom for our sin. For this reason he said: *Christ having been raised from the dead, dies no more. For the death that he died, he died to sin* (Rom. 6:9). He says that he did not die that death because he was liable, according to the account of sin, but for the common offense of all. If, therefore, he was not liable to the former because of this, it is proven in superfluity that he will no longer die. But these things have been said as if by the way; it is time to touch again on the words of the Gospel: *And Joseph, having arisen from sleep, did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took his wife* (Matt. 1:24). See also here the philosophy of the man and his impartiality in all things. For neither, when he suspected something unpleasant and absurd, did he endure to keep the Virgin, nor, since he was freed from that suspicion, did he endure to cast her out; but even keeps her and ministers to the entire economy. The evangelist constantly uses the name of "wife," not wishing that mystery to be uncovered as yet, and removing the evil suspicion. *And having taken her, he did not know her, until she brought forth her firstborn son* (Ib. v. 25). He said "until" here, not so that you might suspect that he knew her after this, but so that you might learn that the virgin was altogether untouched by pangs. For what reason, then, one might say, did he put "until"? Because it is the custom of Scripture often to do this, and not to set this expression for a defined time; as when it says the raven did not turn back to Noah *until the earth was dried* (Gen. 8:7); yet indeed it did not even turn back after this. It says also in the Psalms: *The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool* (Ps. 109:1). And Paul also says: *For he must reign until he puts all his enemies under his feet* (1 Cor. 15:25). But not there, "until," nor here, are these the bounds of time: for regarding that which the prophetic word says, *his power is eternal, and his kingdom shall have no end* (Dan. 4:3) — if indeed

^A he is to reign until that time? Thus, here also, he says "until," confirming those things which were before the birth, while leaving for you to gather those which followed. For what it was necessary for you to learn from him, this he said—that she remained an undefiled virgin until the birth; but that which followed from what was said and was understood, he leaves for you to ponder—namely, that not even afterward did he know her, who had become a mother in such a manner and had been counted worthy of that new and stupendous birth, since he was righteous. **When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying: Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and have come to worship him** (Matt. 2:1-2). ^B Here, certain enemies of the truth, seizing upon this statement, say: "Behold, at Christ’s birth, a star appeared; which is a sign that astrology is a solid thing." What then shall we say to these? We shall take the beginning of the solution from the star itself. For it was not of the number of the stars; nay, it was not even a star, but some invisible Power sent to take this form. This is manifest from the fact that we see the sun, the moon, and the stars traveling from east to west; but this star was borne from north to south, for thus Palestine is situated in relation to Persia. Furthermore, because it appeared not at night, but in the middle of the day, while the sun was shining. Third, because it would appear and then be hidden: for it appeared as far as Palestine, guiding the wise men; but when they came to Jerusalem, it concealed itself; then it appeared again after they had departed from Herod—a thing not characteristic of a star, but of some very intelligent Power. Fourth, from the fact that it showed the place: for descending lower, it pointed out the spot. For it could not do this while remaining on high, because the height was immense and it could not indicate such a narrow place to those who wished to see it. Do you see by how many reasons it is proved that this was not of the number of stars, nor did it show itself according to the sequence of external generation? And why, you will say, did it appear? To rebuke the Jews for their lack of sense. For because they were frequent hearers of the prophets who spoke of his coming, yet paid little heed, he brought it about that barbarians should come from a distant land, seeking the king from the Jews themselves, so that they might learn from the Persian tongue those things which they had not endured to learn from the prophets; so that if they were to act rightly, they might have the greatest occasion to persuade themselves, but if they should contend, they would have no excuse afterward. God draws the wise men by a star, calling them by things familiar to them, and he shows a star of great and unusual form, so as to strike them with the magnitude and beauty of the spectacle, and indeed by its manner of movement. When, therefore, he had guided them as if by hand to the manger, he no longer addressed them through a star, but through an angel. And these he instructed through a star and through angels, but us he has deigned to teach, through the Only-Begotten himself, things sublime, ineffable, and surpassing our mind. Reflecting, therefore, on the magnitude of such condescension, let us render him worthy honor and recompense: ^C and for God, no other recompense shall come from us save only our own salvation and that of our souls, the care of practicing virtue, and providing for our brothers. For no knowledge or character of one who is faithful and loves Christ could be such as the care for brothers and the concern for their salvation: since Christ himself *did not please himself,* but others. So also Paul says, *I do not seek what is useful to me, but to the many, that they may be saved* (1 Cor. 10:33). Knowing these things, therefore, beloved, let us compose our life and have great care for our brothers, and preserve unity with them. For toward this the sacrifice that is *tremendous* and horrific leads us, bidding us to approach it mostly with harmony and with fervent charity, and from there, having become eagles, to fly toward heaven itself. *For where the body is, there the eagles are* (Matt. 24:28), calling the crucified body here the corpse. For unless he had fallen, we would not have risen. He calls us eagles, showing that he who approaches this body must be on high, and have nothing in common with the earth, nor be dragged down and creep, but always fly upward, and look toward the Sun of Righteousness, and have the sharp gaze of the mind. For this is a table for eagles, not for jackdaws. ^D Those shall then meet him as he descends from the heavens who worthily enjoy him; just as those who do so unworthily shall suffer the extremest things. For if one might not receive a king in any way whatsoever; what do I say, a king? One would not even dare to touch the royal robe rashly with impure hands, even if it were in a wilderness, even if one were alone and no one were present. And yet the robe is nothing but a product of worms and silks. And if you marvel at the dye, that too is the blood of a dead fish; yet no one would dare touch it with unclean hands. But if no one dares to touch a human garment in any way whatsoever, how shall we receive the body of the God of the universe, immaculate, having communed with the divine nature, through which we exist and live, through which the gates of death were broken and the vaults of heaven were opened—how, I say, shall we receive this with such insolence? Let us not, I pray, let us not slay ourselves through impudence, but let us approach him with trembling and all purity, so that we may not suffer a more grievous punishment. For the greater the benefits we have received, the more grievously shall we be punished if we appear unworthy of the benefit. For this body lying in the manger the wise men revered, and though they were impious men and barbarians, having left their country and home, they undertook a long journey, and coming with much fear and trembling, they worshipped. Let us, therefore, imitate them, even though they were barbarians, we who are citizens of the heavens. For they, seeing him in a manger and in a hut, and perceiving nothing such as you see now, approached with much trembling: but you see him not in a manger, but on the altar; not with a woman holding him, but the priest standing by, and the Spirit with great bounty flying down upon the things set forth. You see this body not simply, as they did, but you know both its power and the whole economy, and are ignorant of nothing of those things which have been perfected by him, having been accurately initiated in all things. Let us, therefore, rouse ourselves and stand in awe, and exhibit a piety much greater than those barbarians, lest by approaching rashly and in any way whatsoever, we...

accumulate upon our heads. I say these things, however, not that we should not approach, but that we should not approach rashly. For just as it is dangerous to approach as one happens to, so is it famine and death not to partake of those mystical suppers. For this table ^A is the sinew of our soul, the bond of our intellect, the cause of our confidence, [our] hope, salvation, light, and life. Having departed from this sacrifice, we shall clothe ourselves with great confidence at the sacred thresholds, as if fenced about on all sides with golden armor. And why do I speak of the things to come? For here this mystery makes the earth heaven for you. Unfold, then, the gates of heaven and look in; or rather, not of heaven, but of heaven’s heavens, and then you shall see what I have spoken of. For the thing most precious of all there, I will show you lying here on earth. For just as in royal palaces, the most venerable thing of all is not the walls, nor the golden ceiling, but the royal body sitting upon the throne, so also in the heavens is the body of the King. But it is permitted to you to see this on earth. For I am not showing you angels, nor archangels, nor heavens and the heavens of heavens, but ^B the Master of these very things. Do you see how you behold the most precious thing of all on earth? And you do not only behold, but you even touch; and you do not only touch, but you even eat, and having received [Him], you depart home. Cleanse, therefore, your soul, prepare your mind for the reception of these mysteries. For if you were commanded to carry a royal child along with his finery and purple and diadem, you would have everything that is on earth; but now, when you receive the Only-begotten Son of God Himself, do you not tremble, tell me, and cast out all love of worldly things, and [instead of] adorning yourself only for this world, do you still look toward the earth, and love money, and are you fluttered by gold? And what pardon could you have? What defense? Do you not know how your Master turns away from all the luxury of life? Is it not for this that He was placed in a manger, being born, and took a lowly mother? Is it not for this that He said to that man who looked toward trafficking: *But the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head* (Matt. 8:20)? ^C What then of the disciples? Did they not keep the same law when they lodged in the homes of the poor? And did one take lodging with a tanner, another with a tent-maker? For they sought not the fame of houses, but the virtues of souls. Let us, therefore, emulate them, passing by the beauties of columns and marbles, and seeking the mansions above, and let us trample down all the conceit here with the desire for money, and let us take up a lofty mind. For if we are sober, even this world of ours is not worthy of us, let alone porticos and promenades. Therefore, I entreat you, let us adorn our own souls, which we shall carry [with us] when we depart, so that we may also attain the eternal tabernacles, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXXV

^D Repentance is grievous and formidable to the sinner, a medicine for offenses, an expenditure of tears, a consumption of transgressions, a confidence toward God, a weapon against the devil, a sword cutting off his head, a hope of salvation, an undoing of despair: this opens the heaven, this leads into paradise, this prevails over the devil. Because of this I keep bringing up the discourse about it, so that neither the sinner may despair, nor he who is succeeding think himself great. *For let him who thinks he stands, take heed lest he fall* (1 Cor. 10:12); for it is also the case that being overconfident causes one to be supplanted. Are you righteous? Do not fall. Are you a sinner? Do not despair. I do not cease constantly to apply these medicines to you; for I know what a great weapon against the devil it is for you not to despair. If you have sins, do not despair. I will not cease constantly saying these things; even if you sin daily, repent daily. What do we do in old houses? When they grow rotten, we remove the rotten parts and repair them anew, and we never cease from constant care. If you have grown old today through sin, renew yourself tomorrow through repentance. And is it possible, you say, to be saved by repenting? It is possible, and very possible. I have spent my whole life in sin, and if I repent, am I saved? It is entirely so. Whence is this clear? From the loving-kindness of your Master. For do not rely on your own repentance; for does your repentance have the strength to cleanse away so many evils? If it were repentance alone, you would rightly fear; but since God’s loving-kindness is infused with the repentance, take heart; for there is no measure to God’s loving-kindness, nor can His goodness be interpreted by word. For wickedness indeed has a measure, but the medicine has no measure; your wickedness, whatever it may be, is human wickedness; but the loving-kindness of God is ineffable. Take heart, because it prevails over your wickedness. Consider a spark fallen into the ocean: can it stand or appear? As much as a spark is to an ocean, so much is wickedness to the loving-kindness of God; or rather, not even so much, but much less. For the ocean, even if it is great, has a measure; but God’s loving-kindness is limitless. I say these things, not to make you more sluggish, but to make you more diligent. I have often exhorted you not to ascend to the theater; did you hear, and were you not persuaded? Did you ascend to the theater? Did you disregard my word? Do not be ashamed to enter again and hear. I heard, you say, and did not keep [the word]; how can I enter and hear? For the moment, you know this very thing, that you did not keep it; for the moment you are ashamed, for the moment you blush, for the moment you carry a bridle that reproves no one, for the moment you have my word rooted [within you], for the moment, even when I am not appearing, my teaching corrects you. You did not keep it? Have you condemned yourself? You have kept it halfway, even if you do not keep it, by saying, "I did not keep it." For he who condemns himself for not keeping it, strives toward keeping it. Did you watch? Did you work a transgression? Were you taken captive by the harlot? Did you come down from the theater? Did you remember again? Were you ashamed? Approach. Were you grieved? Call upon God. But do not stop at this: "Woe to me, I heard, and did not keep it; how shall I enter into the church? How shall I hear again?" Enter all the more, since you did not keep it, so that by hearing again you may keep it. If a medicine is applied to you, and it does not cleanse you, do you not apply it again on another day?

Imagine ^A someone who is a woodcutter and undertakes to fell an oak: he takes up an axe and cuts at the root. If he gives one blow and the tree does not fall, will he not give another? Will he not give a third, a fourth, a fifth, a tenth? So you too must do. The harlot is an oak, a fruitless tree, bearing acorns, the food of irrational pigs; for a long time she has put down roots in your mind and by the spreading of her branches has beaten down your conscience. My word is the axe; you heard it for one day. And will that which has put down roots for so long fall in one day? If we set to work twice, or three times, or a hundred times, it is not to be wondered at; only cut out the wicked and strong thing, and the evil custom. The Jews used to eat manna, and they longed for the onions that were in ^B Egypt, saying, “It went well with us in Egypt.” Such a strong and most evil thing is custom. And if you behave rightly for ten days, if for twenty, if for thirty, shall I not love you? Shall I not favor you? Shall I not embrace you? Only do not flag, but arise and condemn yourself. I spoke again about the truth: you heard it, and upon leaving you cast it away, you did not manifest the word in your works. Do not be ashamed to enter the church again; be ashamed when you sin, do not be ashamed when you repent and cease to sin. Attend to what the devil has done to you. There are two things, sin and repentance; sin is a wound, repentance is the medicine. In sin there is reproach, in sin there is mockery; in repentance there is confidence, in repentance ^C there is freedom, in repentance there is the cleansing of sin. Attend diligently. Sin is followed by shame; repentance is followed by confidence. But Satan has inverted the order and given confidence to sin, and shame to repentance. I will not cease until evening until I have solved this matter. There is a wound and medicine; the wound has putrefaction, the medicine possesses a cleansing of the putrefaction. Is there putrefaction in the medicine? Is there healing in the wound? Do these not have their own order; does not that also have its own? Can this be changed into that, and that into this? Let us come also to the sins of the soul. Sin has shame, it has modesty, and it incurs infamy; repentance has confidence, repentance has fasting and justice. “For tell your iniquities first, that you may be justified” (Is. XLIII, 25, 26). “The just man is the first accuser ^D of himself” (Prov. XVIII, 17). Knowing, therefore, that sin has shame—a thing which can turn one away from sin—and that repentance has confidence—a thing which can attract the penitent—the devil changed the order and gave shame to repentance, and confidence to sin. From where, you ask, I will say. A man is taken as a captive by a grievous desire for a public harlot; he follows the harlot, he enters the brothel without shame, not blushing; he comes together with the harlot and commits sin. Nowhere for him is there fear, nowhere is there reprimand. He departs thence after the sin is finished, and he is ashamed to perform repentance. Wretch, when you were coming together with the harlot, you were not ashamed, and when you come to repentance you are ashamed? He is ashamed to 836 say that he has fornicated, and he blushes; but he performs the act and does not blush, and yet he blushes at the name of the act? This is the cunning of the devil. In sin he does not let him blush but causes him to do it publicly; for he knows that if he blushes, he will flee from the sin; and in repentance he persuades him to blush, for he knows that if he blushes, he will not perform the repentance. He does two evils; he hinders the repentance and draws him to sin. Why do you blush afterwards? When you were fornicating, you were not ashamed; and when the medicine is applied, do you blush? When you are freeing yourself from sin, do you blush? Then you ought to have been ashamed, then it was fitting to blush when you were sinning. When you were becoming a sinner, you were not ashamed, and when you are made just, you blush? “Tell your iniquities first, that you may be justified.” O the kindness of the Lord! He did not say, “That you may not be punished,” but, “That you may be justified.” It did not suffice that he should not be punished, but He even makes him just; and that, exceedingly so. But attend diligently to the sermon. He makes him just. But where did He do this? In the thief: so that he might only say to his friend, “Neither do you fear God? And we indeed justly; for we receive the worth of our deeds,” and He said to him, “Today you will be with me in paradise” (Luc. XXIII, 40, 41). He did not say, “I absolve you from the punishment and the penalty”; but He leads the just man into paradise. Do you see the one made just from a confession? God is very merciful; He did not spare His Son, that He might spare the servant; He handed over the Only-begotten, that He might redeem ungrateful servants; He deposited the blood of His Son as the price. O the kindness of the Lord! And do not tell me again, “I have sinned much, and how can I obtain salvation?” You cannot, but your Lord can, and He will so wipe away your sins that not even a trace of them remains. For in bodies this is not the case; but even if a physician applies a thousand cares, even if he applies medicines to the wound, he removes the wound indeed, but he does not delete the scar; for the infirmity of nature, the weakness of the art, and the vileness of the medicines stand against him. But God, when He deletes sins, leaves no scar, nor does He allow a trace to remain; but with health He grants also beauty, and after He has freed one from punishment, He gives justice in addition, and brings it about that he who has sinned is equal to him who has not sinned. Is there any sin that casts one into despair, or that overcomes the kindness of God? And how did Judas perish? How? Because repentance is not done from necessity. And yet hear what the Master says to him: “What shall I do to you, Judas? Do you not know what you are to do? I know, but I do not want to: the nature of sins requires it; but the magnitude of [My] kindness restrains it. What shall I do to you? Shall I spare you? But you will become more slothful. Truly, shall I take vengeance upon you? But My kindness does not sustain that. What shall I do to you? Shall I set you as Sodom, and subvert you as Gomorrah? But I am a father, and a loving father.” Acknowledging this kindness of ours, let us not despair, but let us not rashly be negligent, for both of these are pernicious. For despair does not let him who lies prostrate rise again; slothfulness, however, even casts him down: the former is accustomed to deprive one of the goods granted; the latter does not allow one to be freed from impending evils; and contempt casts one down even from the very heavens; and despair

^A casts one down into the very abyss of wickedness; such that one no longer rises again. For that he was good, hear what he says: *I saw Satan falling like lightning from heaven* (Luc. 10. 18): the parable of the lightning shows both the brightness of his former behavior, and the swiftness of his fall. Paul was a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an insolent man; but because he was zealous and did not despair, he both arose and became equal to the angels. Judas was an apostle, but by becoming slothful he became a traitor. The robber, on the other hand, after so much wickedness, because he did not despair, entered into paradise before all others. The Pharisee, confident in himself, fell from the very height of his virtue; the publican, not despairing, was lifted up so as to surpass even him. Do you wish that I show you an entire city that did this? The city of the Ninevites was thus saved, all of it—even though the sentence cast them into despair. ^B For he did not say, "If they repent, they shall be saved," but simply, *Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown* (Jon. 3. 4). And yet, though God was threatening, and the prophet crying out, and the sentence having neither delay nor condition, they did not fall into despondency, nor did they abandon their good hopes. For this reason he did not add a condition, nor did he say, "If they repent, they shall be saved," so that we too, when we hear a sentence of God being pronounced without a condition, might not even then despair, looking to that example. For there is no weapon so strong for the devil as despair. For this reason we do not gladden him so much by sinning as we do by despairing. Hear, then, in the case of the fornicator, how Paul feared despair more than the sin itself. Writing to the Corinthians, he spoke thus: *It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and such sexual immorality as is not even named among the gentiles* (1 Cor. 5. 1). For what is unendurable even to mention to them, ^C this has been dared in deed by you. *And you are puffed up* (Ibid. v. 2). And he did not say, "And that man is puffed up," but leaving the one who had sinned, he addresses those who are sound, just as physicians do, who leave the sick and spend more words on those who are related to them. Otherwise, these men were also the cause of his arrogance, by not rebuking and not reproving him. He therefore made the crime common, so that the healing of the wound might become easier. For while it is a terrible thing to sin, it is much more grievous to also be boastful about one's sins. For if to be puffed up on account of justice is the emptying out of justice, much more does this happening on account of sins bring the ultimate harm, and the crime is greater than the sins themselves. For this reason he says: *When you have done all, say, We are unprofitable servants* (Luc. 17. 10). If those who do everything ought to be humbled, much more is it fitting for the sinner to both lament and count himself among the very last. Which he was also declaring at that time, saying: *And you are not rather puffed up?* (1 Cor. 5. 2). What are you saying? Another has sinned, and I shall lament? Yes, he says; for we are joined one to another as body and members; and in the case of the body, even if the foot receives a wound, we see the head bowing down; yet what is more honorable than this? But it does not look to its own dignity in the time of calamity; so you do likewise. For this reason Paul exhorts *to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep* (Rom. 12. 15). But as I was saying, observe how Paul fears despair, as a great weapon of the devil. ^D For having said, *Confirm your love toward him* (2 Cor. 2. 8), he adds the cause: *Lest such a one be swallowed up by overmuch sorrow* (2 Cor. 2. 7). In the throat of the wolf, he says, is the sheep; let us therefore hasten, let us snatch him away beforehand, before he swallows and destroys our member. The ship is now in a storm; before the shipwreck let us strive to save it. For just as when the sea is rising, and waves are cresting on all sides, the hull becomes submerged; so also the soul, with despondency surrounding it on all sides, is quickly stifled, unless it has someone reaching out a hand; and the sorrow that is saving concerning sins, becomes destructive in its lack of measure. Knowing, therefore, what the devil did in the case of Judas, Paul feared lest this should happen here as well. What, then, did he do in the case of Judas? Judas repented—*I have sinned,* he says, *by betraying innocent blood* (Matth. 27. 4). The devil heard these words; he knew he was starting on the road to something better, and was walking toward salvation, and he feared the change. He has a philanthropic Master, he says—if before he was about to betray Him, He wept for him, and gave him infinite admonitions: will He not much more receive him now that he is repenting? He drew him in and called him when he was incorrigible: will He not much more draw him in now that he has been corrected and has recognized his sin? For this reason He even came to be crucified. What, then, did he do? He unsettled him, darkened him with the excess of despondency, pursued him, drove him on, until he brought him to the noose, and removed him from the present life, and deprived him of the zeal that comes with repentance. For that, if he had lived, even he would have been saved, is clear from those who crucified Him. For if He saved those who raised Him onto the cross, and while on the cross itself was beseeching the Father, and asking for forgiveness for them for their daring deed; it is evident that He would have received even the traitor, if he had shown repentance according to the appropriate law, with all kindness. But he could not endure to abide by the medicine, being swallowed up by overmuch sorrow. This, therefore, Paul fearing, urges the Corinthians to snatch the man from the throat of the devil. And what need is there to speak of the Corinthians? Peter, after the communion of the mysteries, denied Him thrice, and weeping, wiped away everything; the harlot appeased the Master with tears; Paul, confessing his sin, became a teacher of those who repent. Having received these plasters, let us heal our own wounds, saying: *Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; heal my soul, for I have sinned against thee* (Jerem. 17. 14, and Ps. 40. 5). For the Physician, having accepted us, will say: *I am he who blots out your iniquities, and I will remember them no more* (Isai. 43. 25). See how many medicines the Physician has prepared for you; select whichever one you yourself wish. He has shown you a variety of aids for the difference in wounds. If you are not able to fast, like the Ninevites, at least wash away your sins with tears, like the harlot; if you are not able to give alms, confess your sins; take refuge in the mercy of God, saying with David: *Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy great mercy* (Ps. 50. 1). For it is not the bite of a viper, that I might apply a medicinal ointment to it, nor is it a stain produced from mud, that I might wash it off with water; but the wound is from the bite of the devil, needing the mercy of your philanthropy. Only approach requesting; for the Philanthropist will pour on the oil.

wash it off with water; but the wound is from the bite of the devil, needing the mercy of your philanthropy. Only approach requesting; for the Philanthropist will pour on the oil, He who said: "If the wicked man turns from his evil way, I will not remember his iniquities which he has done" (Ezech. 18:21, 22). Let them therefore be converted; let us call upon Him; let us wash away the filth of sin with tears; let us strike our breast; let us beat our brow; let us come to the realization of our sins, so that we too may hear from the Lord: "Today you shall be with me in paradise." To Whom belongs every glory, honor, and adoration, now and unto endless ages. Amen.

HOMILY XXXVI. Encomium on the holy Apostle Paul.

^A The grace of the Spirit has left the life and conduct of the saints described for us, so that, learning in what manner they, who were of the same nature as we, rightly performed all things related to virtue, we might be roused to practice it, and might ignite a great affection of love toward them. But how will this come about? If we frequently cling to those men, and, keeping them in our mind, lead the same life that they did. For in this, more than in all other things, God will be glorified. For if "the heavens declare the glory of God" (Ps. 18:2), not by emitting a voice, but by rousing others to this very thing through sight, much more do those who exhibit a wonderful life, even though they are silent, glorify God, while others, because of them, accomplish the same. For the heaven, which is looked upon for so long, did not greatly persuade us to admire its Creator; but the blessed apostles, who preached only for a short time, drew the entire world to themselves. And the heaven, indeed, stood always keeping its own order and norm; but the loftiness of their souls surpassed all the heavens; and its beauty was such that God Himself proclaimed it. For the angels wondered at the stars when they were made; but the beauty of the apostles’ soul He Himself praised, saying: "You are the light of the world" (Matth. 5:14). And this heaven, indeed, clouds often obscure, but no temptation obscured their soul; rather, it shone forth most brightly at that time. Therefore Paul said: "I take pleasure in infirmities, in persecutions, in tribulations, for you in my chains" (Philipp.); everywhere proposing chains: which I love very much, and it greatly excites the desire of my heart to bring forward into our midst Paul, who labored more than all, of whom Christ says: "He is a chosen vessel for me" (Act. 9:15).

^B This man, therefore, at the time of his preaching, was devastating the Church, entering into houses, dragging away men and women; but when he was approaching Damascus, suddenly a light shone around him and blinded him. But his blindness was the illumination of the world. For since he saw poorly, God blinded him for his own good, so that he might see beneficially, at the same time demonstrating to him His own power, and prefiguring in such deep distress things to come, and teaching the manner of his preaching, namely, that it is necessary to leave all these things behind, and with closed eyes, to follow Him everywhere. Therefore he himself also shouted, signifying this very thing: "If any one among you seems to be wise, let him become a fool, so that he may be wise" (1 Cor. 3:18): so that no one can see rightly unless he has first been well blinded, and, with internal thoughts expelled which were troubling him, has committed his whole self to faith. But let no one, hearing these things, think this calling was brought about by necessity: for he could have gone back to the place from whence he had come. For many others, seeing greater miracles, turned back again, both in the New and in the Old Testament, such as Judas, Nebuchadnezzar, Elymas the sorcerer, Simon, Ananias, Sapphira, and the whole nation of the Jews. But not Paul; rather, having received his sight, he directed his course toward the incorruptible light, and flew to heaven. But if you examine why he was blinded, hear him saying: "For you have heard of my conversation in time past in the Jews' religion, how that beyond measure I persecuted the church of God, and wasted it; and profited in the Jews' religion above many my equals in mine own nation, being more exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers" (Gal. 1:13, 14). Because, therefore, ^C he was so vehement and inaccessible, he had need of a stronger bridle, so that, led by the impetus of his spirit, he might not be disobedient to the words. Therefore, curbing his fury, He first settles the waves of his raging anger through blindness; and then speaks with him, demonstrating His own ineffable wisdom and eminent knowledge: and that he might learn whom he was attacking, whom he could not bear, not only punishing him, but even conferring benefits. Nor indeed did darkness blind him, but the superabundance of light obscured him; and yet it raised him up so much that the demons feared his garments. But I do not admire that, nor that the shadow of Peter put disease to flight, but this is admirable, that even before grace, he did great things from the very first mark and from the beginning. For when he did not yet have such virtue, nor yet been ordained, he was so kindled with zeal for Christ that he incited the whole Jewish people against himself; and seeing himself in such great dangers, that even the city was being besieged, he was let down through the window by the wall: and when he had escaped, he did not thus fall into sloth, nor into fear or dread, but took on greater courage; avoiding dangers indeed through economy, but yielding to no one in doctrine, but with the cross taken up again, he followed, even though he had that recent example of Stephen before his eyes, and saw the Jews breathing slaughter against him especially, and desiring to taste his own flesh. Why, therefore, did he neither openly yield himself to dangers, nor, though escaping them, go forth more softly? He loved the present life very much on account of the profit resulting from it, and he greatly despised it, on account of the philosophy which persuaded him to spurn it, and because he was hastening to depart to Jesus. For what I say of him, and I shall never make an end of speaking: no one who has fallen into adverse circumstances took care of both so solicitously:

^A indeed, he declares that it is more necessary than even his companionship and conversation with Christ, while at other times he calls it so burdensome and oppressive that he even sighs and hastens toward his release. For he longed only for those things that brought him gain in God, even if it happened that these things were contrary to the former. For he was indeed versatile and manifold, not dissembling—God forbid!—but becoming all things that the need of preaching and the salvation of men required, imitating in this also his own Master. For God appeared as man, because it was necessary for this to appear, and in fire long ago, when the time required this, and at one time in the guise of a soldier and man-at-arms, at another in the image of an elder, at another in a gentle breeze, at another as a traveler, at another as a human being: and he did not refuse to die in such a state. Let no one, when I say "it was necessary," think that this implies necessity, but only His own philanthropy. And sometimes He sits on a throne, sometimes upon the Cherubim. Yet He did all these things according to the economies that were set before Him; wherefore he also spoke through the prophet: *I have multiplied visions, and in the hands of the prophets I have been likened* (Os. XII, 10).

So also Paul, imitating his own Master, would not be condemned, at one time becoming a Jew, at another as one without law; and sometimes he kept the law, sometimes he disregarded the law; ^B and at times he clung to the present life, at times he despised it; and now he asked for money, now he pushed it away when it was offered, and he would sacrifice and be shorn, and again he would anathematize those who did so; and now he would circumcise, and now he would cast aside circumcision. And although the things done were contrary, the intent and the mind from which these things were done were strictly consistent and joined to themselves; for he sought one thing: the salvation of those who heard and saw these things. Because of this, he now raises up the law, now he tears it down. For he was versatile and manifold not only in what he did, but also in what he said, not changing his mind, nor becoming someone else from someone else, but remaining what he was, and handling each of the things said according to the present need.

Wherefore, one would not be wrong to call the soul of Paul a meadow of virtues and a spiritual paradise; so much did it bloom with grace, and such philosophy of soul did he display as was worthy of that grace. For since he became a chosen vessel, and well purified himself, the abundant gift of the Spirit was poured into him; whence he bore for us those wonderful rivers, not like the source of paradise, only four, but flowing much more copiously every day, not watering the earth, but stirring the souls of men to the bearing of the fruits of virtue. But ^C so that you may not hear from our tongue alone the accomplishments of this blessed man, and the courage which he displayed every day for the preaching of piety, it is necessary to hear him saying it himself. For when he was placed under necessity because of the deceit of the false apostles to recount his own affairs, after saying many other things, he began thus: *Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labors more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequently, in deaths often. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one, thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; in journeyings often, in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils from my own kindred, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils among false brethren, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea; in labor and travail, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness, besides those things that are without* (II Cor. XI, 23–28).

And having said, *Besides those things that are without*, he indicated that it is likely that the things passed over ^D were more than those mentioned. Then again he says: *My daily pressure, the care of all the churches* (II Cor. XI, 28). Do you see the breadth of his soul? Do you see the greatness of his mind? For as much earth as the sun traverses, casting its own rays, so much care and concern did this blessed man also have. Wherefore he also said: *Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I do not burn?* (II Cor. XI, 29). Oh, the wonder! How great was the affection of this man! How great his watchfulness! How great his care! What mother is so torn in her bowels, when her child is feverish and lying on the bed, as this blessed man was more feverish on behalf of the infirm in every place, and burned on behalf of those who were scandalized?

Who, then, shall be sufficient in word for this man's accomplishments? Or what tongue will be able to attain to the praises of him? For when one single soul possesses all the goods that are in men, and all with excess—and not only those of men, but also those of angels—how shall we overcome the magnitude of the praises? We shall not, however, keep silence because of this, but rather we shall speak for this very reason. For this too is the greatest kind of praise, for the facility of the word to surpass the greatness of the accomplishments with all abundance, and this failure is for us more brilliant than a thousand trophies. Where, then, is it opportune to touch upon the praises? From where else, if not from him first, to show him as possessing the goods of all? For whether prophets displayed something noble, or patriarchs, or just men, or apostles, or martyrs, he has all these things gathered together with such excess as none of those possessed the good that each had. Observe: Abel offered a sacrifice, and is proclaimed for that; but if you bring the sacrifice of Paul into the midst, it is shown to be as much better than that one as heaven is than earth. Which one then do you wish me to name? For there is not only one. For he sacrificed himself every day; and he made this offering double, on the one hand by dying every day, and on the other by carrying the mortification in his body.

For he was continually ranged toward dangers, and he was being slaughtered in his purpose, and he so mortified the nature of the flesh that he was not in any condition less than the sacrificed victims, but even much more. For he did not offer oxen and sheep, but he slaughtered himself twice every day. Wherefore he also dared to say: *For I am now ready to be poured out* (II Tim. IV, 6), calling his own blood a drink offering. He was not, however, satisfied with these sacrifices, but since he well consecrated himself, and offered the whole world, and land and sea, and Greece and barbarian, and indeed this entire creation without exception, having become like a winged eagle, he flew over it, not simply traveling, but the thorns of sins

^A he traversed the world as if on winged eagle’s wings, not only making a journey, but plucking out the thorns of sin, and sowing the word of piety, repelling error, leading back to truth, making angels out of men, or rather, making men angels out of demons. And therefore, when he was about to depart after many labors and frequent trophies of this kind, he would say to his disciples for their consolation: "But even if I am being poured out upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and congratulate you all. Therefore, do you also rejoice and congratulate me" (Phil. II, 17, 18). What then, could be equal to this sacrifice, which, drawing the sword of the Spirit, he sacrificed? Which he offered upon that altar above all the heavens? But Abel was treacherously slain by Cain, and from that did he become more splendid? Yet I have recounted to you a thousand deaths, and as many in number as the days he lived preaching. But if you wish to learn of that slaughter, which came to the point of proof, the one fell, slain by a brother to whom he had rendered neither injury nor benefit; this one, however, was slain by those whom he labored to rescue from countless evils, and for whose sake he suffered all these things. But Noah, a man just and perfect in his generation, was he the only one of his kind among all? But even Paul was the only one of his kind among all. And he [Noah], indeed, saved only himself with his children; this one, however, when a much heavier deluge was flooding the world, not by fixing planks and building an ark, but by composing epistles in place of planks, snatched not two, or three, or five kinsmen, but the whole world, ready to be submerged, from the middle of the waves. For the ark was not of such a kind that it could be carried about in one place, but it occupied the ends of the earth; and he introduces all into this ark, which he made capacious for the multitude of those who are saved, and receiving those who were more irrational than brute beasts, he renders them comparable to the heavenly powers; and in this he surpasses that ark. That [ark], indeed, having received a raven, sent out a raven again, and received a wolf, which did not change its ferocity; but this one [Paul] is not so; receiving wolves, he made them sheep, and receiving ravens and daws, he turned them into doves, and casting out all irrationality and ferocity from human nature, he introduced the meekness of the Spirit. And even now this ark sails, and is not dissolved, nor could the tempest of wickedness soften its planks; ^B but sailing, it dissolves the storm of the tempest; and deservedly so: for those planks were anointed not with bitumen and pitch, but with the Holy Spirit. But we admire Abraham, because, hearing, "Go from your land and from your kinship" (Gen. XII, 1), he left home and country, friends and kinsmen; and was not all this a command of Christ? And we admire this. But what could be equal to Paul’s [sacrifice], who did not leave home, country, and kinsmen, but the whole world and all that was in it for the sake of Jesus, and the very heaven and heaven of heavens, and sought only one thing, the love of Jesus? For he says, "Neither things present nor things to come, neither height nor depth, shall be able to separate us from the love of God" (Rom. VIII, 39). But he [Abraham] throwing himself into dangers, rescued his brother’s son from the barbarians. But this one, not a brother’s son, not three or five cities, but the whole world, he rescued, not from barbarians, but from the very hand of the demons, enduring a thousand dangers daily, and providing much security to others by his own deaths. And the head of his blessings and the crown of his philosophy is that he sacrificed his son. But we shall find the primacy here also with Paul, who sacrificed not his son, but himself a thousand times, as I have already said. In what shall we admire Isaac? In many things indeed, but most of all in his patience; because when he was digging wells, although driven from his own borders, he did not avenge himself, but seeing his wells filled with earth, he bore it, and always moved himself to another place, not remaining near those who were causing him trouble; but yielding entirely and everywhere abandoning his possessions, until he had satisfied their unjust greed. But Paul, seeing not wells filled with stones, but his own body; not only did he yield as that man did, but entering in, those who were attacking him with stones, he endeavored to introduce into heaven. For the more the fountain was obstructed, the more it burst forth and poured out more rivers in its patience. The Scripture admires his [Isaac's] patience. But what adamantine soul could exhibit Paul’s patience? For he did not serve for fourteen years, but for his whole life for the bride of Christ, not only scorched by the heat of day and afflicted by the cold of night; but enduring countless temptations, and now by scourges, now by stones, injured in his body, and at one time struggling with beasts, at another with the sea, and day and night in perpetual hunger and cold, and everywhere leaping across ditches, and snatching sheep from the throat of the devil. Verily, was Joseph chaste? But I fear the matter may turn into a joke if we praise Paul from this, who had crucified himself to the world (Gal. VI, 14), and who looked not only at what was beautiful in bodies, but saw all things as we look at dust and ashes: and as a dead man would be unmoved near a corpse, so he quelled the wantonness of nature with such diligence, that he never felt any human motion. All men admire Job with astonishment; and rightly so: for he is a great athlete, who, on account of his patience, can be compared to Paul himself, on account of the purity of his life, on account of the testimony of God Himself, on account of that most powerful battle, on account of the wonderful victory after the battle. But Paul was not struggling for many months, but for many years, not softening the clods of the earth from the discharge he was scraping off (Job VII, 5), but frequently falling, as it is conceived, even into the mouth of the lion, and struggling with a thousand temptations, he was firmer than any rock: ^C not attacked by three or four friends, but by unbelievers and false brethren with reproaches, spat upon, insulted with revilings. Verily, was Job’s hospitality great, and his kindness toward the needy likewise? Neither do we contradict this, but it is as much inferior to Paul’s kindness as the soul is superior to the body. For what that man exhibited toward those who were maimed in the flesh, that Paul performed for those who were afflicted in soul, healing whomever he saw limping or maimed in mind, clothing those who were naked and acting shamefully in the garment of philosophy. In bodily matters, too, he surpassed him by as much as it is greater to help the needy while living in poverty and hunger than to provide that from one’s own wealth. For his [Job’s] house...

his house was open to everyone who came, and his soul was spread wide for the whole world; and he received whole multitudes, saying: *You are not restricted in us, but you are restricted in your own affections* (2 Cor. 6. 12). And although he possessed innumerably many sheep and oxen, he was generous toward the needy; but this man, possessing nothing beyond his body, provided for the needy from it, crying out and saying: *These hands have ministered to my own needs and to those who are with me* (Acts 20. 34), possessing the labor of his body as an income for the hungry and those famishing.

But were the worms and the wounds grievous and unbearable for Job’s pain? I admit it. But if you were to set against them the scourges inflicted on Paul over so many years, the constant hunger and nakedness, the chains, the prison, the dangers, the plots from his own people, from strangers, from tyrants, from the whole world; and alongside these, what is more bitter than all these things—I mean the pains on behalf of those who were falling, the care of the churches, the burning which he endured for each one of those who were caused to stumble—you would see that the soul that bore these things was firmer than a rock, and surpassed iron and adamant. And what that man suffered in his body, this man suffered in his soul, and the distress over each of those who were caused to stumble ^B gnawed at his soul more severely than any worm. Hence he also poured forth fountains of tears continuously, not only by day but also by night; and he was torn more bitterly than any woman in labor for every one of them. For this reason he said: *My little children, of whom I am in labor again*.

Whom, then, after Job, would one be amazed at? Moses, by all means. But he excelled even him by a long interval. For while his other qualities were indeed great, the head and the crown of that holy soul was that he chose to be blotted out of the Book of Life for the salvation of the Jews. But that man chose to perish together with others; whereas Paul chose not to perish with them, but, while others were saved, he himself would be cast out from the boundless glory. And the one contended with Pharaoh, the other with the devil every day; and the one labored for one nation, the other for the whole world—not with sweat, but flowing from every side with blood instead of sweat—correcting not only the inhabited world, but even the uninhabited, not only Greece, but also the barbarian lands.

It were possible to bring into the middle Joshua, and Samuel, and the other prophets; but that we may not make our discourse longer, let us go to their leaders. For when one better than these appears, no dispute remains concerning the others. And who are the leaders? Who else after these, if not David and Elijah and John? Of whom the one is the forerunner of the first, the other of the second coming of Christ; for this reason they even shared the appellation with each other. What, then, is the ^C excellence of David? Humility and the love of God. And who has achieved both of these more, and who less, than the soul of Paul? What is the wonder of Elijah? That he shut up the heaven, and brought on famine, and brought down fire? I do not think so; but that he was zealous for the Master, and was more vehement than fire. But if you see the zeal of Paul, you will see it prevailing as much as he exceeded the others. For what could be equal to those steps, which, being zealous for the glory of the Master, he spoke: *I have prayed to be anathema for the sake of my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh* (Rom. 9. 3)? For this reason, with the heavens, and the crowns, and the prizes lying before him, he delayed and lingered, saying: *To remain in the flesh is more necessary for your sake* (Philip. 1. 24). For this reason he did not think even the visible creation, nor even the intelligible one, sufficient to represent his love and his zeal, but he fashioned by word another that did not exist, so as to demonstrate what he wished and desired.

But John ate locusts and wild honey? But this man spent his time in the midst of the inhabited world as that one did in the desert, not eating locusts and wild honey, but setting before himself a table much more meager than this, and not even having enough of necessary food because of his eagerness for the preaching. But did he manifest much boldness toward Herod? But this man not only silenced two or three, but thousands according to that one, or rather, even much more ^D savage than that tyrant.

It remains to examine him finally against the angels; for this reason, leaving the earth, we shall ascend to the vaults of the heavens. But let no one judge the boldness of this discourse. For if the Scripture called the priests angels, what is amazing if we compare the one who is better than all to those powers? What, then, is the great thing about them? That they obey God with all precision. Which David also, being amazed, said: *Mighty in strength, doing his word* (Ps. 102. 20). For nothing is equal to this, even if they were bodiless ten thousand times; for this is what makes them most blessed, that they obey the commands, that they disobey nowhere. This, therefore, can be seen kept with precision also by Paul. For he did not do his word only, but also the commands. And declaring this he said: *What salary is mine, therefore, that when preaching the gospel, I might make the Gospel of Christ without expense* (1 Cor. 9. 18)? What else did the prophet wonder at, saying: *Who makes his angels spirits, and his ministers a flaming fire* (Ps. 103. 4)? But this also can be seen in Paul. For just as spirit and fire, so he traversed the entire inhabited world and purified the earth. But has he not yet obtained the heaven? For this is the wondrous thing, that being such on earth, and clothed in a mortal body, he vied with the bodiless powers. For this reason, having departed even there, he stands near the royal throne, where the Cherubim glorify, where the Seraphim fly. There, then, we also having departed, will see Paul, even if we do not stand near, yet we will surely see him with Peter and the choir of the saints, existing as leader and protector, and we will enjoy his sincere love. For if while being here he so loved men, that he chose the option to be dissolved and be with Christ, rather than to be here, he will exhibit his affection much more warmly there. I also love Rome for the reason that he wrote to them even while living, and so loved them, and being present he conversed with them, and he ended his life there, and they possess the holy body. For this reason the city is famous from this more than from all other things; and just as a great and strong body has two shining eyes, these bodies of the saints. The heaven is not so bright, when the sun lets fall its rays, as the city of the Romans lets fall these two lamps everywhere in the inhabited world. From there will be caught away Paul, from there Peter. Consider and tremble, what a spectacle Rome will see, Paul suddenly rising from

HOMILY XXXVII

HOMILY XXXVII

HOMILY XXXVIII. On the fact that we should not be ashamed to confess the venerable Cross, and how through it Christ saved us, and how we ought to boast in it, and on virtue, and how He desires our salvation, and on almsgiving.

^A This, my brethren, is the sign which the Lord promised He would give to all, saying: *An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas* (Matt. 12:39), meaning the Cross, and the death, and the burial, and the resurrection. And again, in another way, declaring the power of the Cross, He said: *When ye have lifted up the Son of man, then shall ye know that I am He* (John 8:28); that is to say: "When ye have crucified Me," He says, "and think that you have overcome Me, then especially shall ye know My power." [And Christ said well.] For after Christ was crucified, Jewish customs ceased, the preaching flourished, the word was extended to the ends of the world, and earth and sea and the whole world proclaim His unconquerable power. Let no one, therefore, be ashamed of the venerable symbols of our salvation, and the sum of all good things, by which we also live and by which we are; but as a crown, so let us bear about with us the Cross of Christ. For all our affairs are completed by it: if one must be regenerated, the Cross arrives; if one must be nourished with that mystical food, if ^B one must be ordained, if one must do anything else, everywhere the symbol of victory stands by us. For this reason, in our houses, and on our walls, and on our doors, and on our forehead, and in our mind, we inscribe it with much zeal. For this is the sign of our salvation, and of our common liberty, and of the gentleness of our Lord: *He was led as a sheep to the slaughter* (Isa. 53:7). When, therefore, you seal yourself, consider the whole mystery of the Cross, and extinguish anger, and all other passions; when you seal yourself, fill your forehead with much boldness, *and make your soul free*. You know, indeed, what it is that provides us with liberty. For this reason Paul, leading us into this—to the liberty, I say, which is becoming to us—thus led us up, reminding us of the Cross and the blood of the Lord: *For ye were bought with a price*, he says; *be not ye the servants of men* (1 Cor. 7:23). Consider, he says, the price paid for your sake, and be the slave of no man; calling the blood that was shed through the Cross the price. You must not simply trace it with your finger, but first with your intention, with much faith, and so impress it upon your face. No one of the unclean demons will be able to stand near you, seeing the blade by which he received his wound; seeing the sword by which he received his mortal blow. For if we, seeing the places where criminals are executed, shudder, consider what the devil will suffer when he sees the weapon of our defense, by which Christ dissolved all his power and cut off the head of the dragon. Do not, therefore, be ashamed of so great a good, lest Christ be ashamed of you when He comes with His glory, and the sign appears before Him, shining brighter than the ray of the sun. For the Cross shall appear then, uttering a voice through the sight, and defending the Lord before the whole world, and showing that He lacked nothing of those things which pertained to them.

^C This sign also opened closed doors to our ancestors; this extinguished poisonous drugs, this dissolved the power of hemlock, this healed the bites of venomous beasts. For if it opened the gates of Hades, and unfolded the arches of the heavens, and renewed the entrance to Paradise, and cut the nerves of the devil, what is it to marvel if it overcomes poisonous drugs and beasts and other things of this kind? Inscribe this, therefore, on your mind, and embrace the salvation of our souls. For this Cross turned the world, expelled error, brought back the truth, made earth heaven, and rendered men angels. Because of this, the demons are no longer fearful, but contemptible; nor is death death, but sleep; because of this, all our enemies are cast down and trampled underfoot. If, therefore, anyone says to you, "Do you worship the crucified one?" say with a cheerful voice and joyful face: "I do worship Him, and I will never cease to worship Him." And if he laughs, weep for him, because he is mad. Give thanks to the Lord that He has bestowed such benefits upon us, which no one can even learn without revelation from above. For this is why even this man laughs, that *the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit* (1 Cor. 2:14). For little children suffer this, when they see something great and wonderful; even if you lead a child into the mysteries, he will laugh. ^D To these children the Greeks are in likeness, or rather they are even more imperfect than they; and therefore they are more wretched, because they suffer the things of children not in an immature age, but in a mature one; whence they are not even worthy of pardon. But let us, with a loud voice, crying out great and lofty things, let us shout and say, even if all the Greeks are present, with more boldness let us say that the Cross is our boast, and the sum of all good things, and our boldness, and our entire crown. I would that I could say along with Paul that *the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world* (Gal. 6:14), but I cannot, being held by various passions. For this reason, I exhort you, and myself before you, to be crucified to the world, and to have nothing in common with the earth, but to long for the homeland above, and the glory from thence, and the eternal goods. For we are soldiers of a heavenly King, and we have put on spiritual armor. Why then do we conduct the life of hucksters and wanderers, or rather of worms? For where the King is, there the soldier must also be. For we have become soldiers, not of those who are far off, but of those who are near. For the king on earth would not endure for everyone to be in the palace, nor beside his own sides; but the King of the heavens desires all to be near His royal throne. And how, you ask, is it possible, being here, to stand near that throne? Because Paul also, being on earth, was where the Cherubim were, where the Seraphim were, and he was closer to Christ than those shield-bearers of the king. For they often turn their faces all about, but nothing disturbed him and nothing drew him away, but he had his whole mind stretched toward the King and Lord. So that if we will, this is possible for us also. For if He were distant in location, you would speak correctly; but if He is everywhere present, to the one who is zealous and intent, He is near. Therefore the prophet says, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me (Ps. 22:4). And He Himself again, It is I, the God who is near, and not God [from afar].

(Jer. 23:23). As, therefore, sins separate us from Him, so righteousness gathers us to Him: for ^A *While you are yet speaking, I will say, Behold, I am here* (Is. 58:9). What father ever hears those born of him in this way? What mother is so prepared, and stands perpetually ready, in case her children might call her? No father, no mother; but God stands ever expecting, in case any of His servants might call Him, and He never fails to hear, if we call upon Him as is fitting. Therefore He says, *While you are yet speaking.* I do not wait until you complete your prayer, but I will hear immediately. Let us therefore call upon Him as He wishes to be called upon. And how does He wish it? *Loose,* He says, *every bond of iniquity, dissolve the knots of violent dealings, tear up every unjust contract; break your bread for the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house. If you see one naked, clothe him; and do not despise the members of your own seed* (Is. 58:6-7). *Then shall your morning light break forth, and your healings shall spring up speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you, and the glory of God shall encompass you. Then you shall call upon Me, and I will hear you; while you are yet speaking, I will say, Behold, I am here.* Who, you ask, could do all these things? Nay, who could not, tell me? For what among the things said is difficult? What is laborious? What is not easy? For they are not only possible, but even easy, so that many have surpassed the measure of the things said, not only tearing up unjust contracts, but laying aside all their own possessions; not only receiving the poor to a roof and table, but even laboring with the sweat of their body to nourish them; conferring benefits not only upon relatives, but even upon enemies. What among the things said is difficult? For He did not say, Ascend a mountain, cross the sea, plow so many acres of land, remain fasting, clothe yourself in sackcloth; but, Make (someone) a partaker of your house and bread, tear up unjust contracts. What is easier than these, tell me? But if you think those things are difficult, weigh for me the rewards, and all things will be easy. For just as kings in the hippodromes put forth crowns, garments, and prizes before those competing, so also does Christ set prizes in the midst of the stadium, as if extending them through many hands by the words of the prophet. And kings indeed, even if they be kings a thousand times over, since they are men, whose resources are spent and whose liberality is exhausted, try to exhibit a few things as though they were many; wherefore, handing over individual things to individual ministers, they thus bring them into the middle. Our King, on the contrary, accumulating all things at once, because He is exceedingly wealthy and does nothing for display, thus proposes in the middle that which, when spread out, will be immense, and many hands will be needed to hold them. And that you may learn this, examine everything piece by piece with care. *Then,* He says, *your morning light shall break forth.* Does it not seem to you to be a single gift? Yet it is not one: for it contains many things within, crowns, prizes, and other rewards. And, if you wish, by unfolding them, we will display the entire wealth according to our ability, only let there be no fatigue. And first let us learn what the word *Break forth* means. He shows us the speed and the bounty, and how much He desires our salvation, how He leaps for joy and hastens that those good things should come forth, and nothing shall restrain that ineffable impulse; ^B by all of which He shows their abundant supply and immense resources. What does that *Morning* signify? That is to say, not after they have been in temptations, not after evils have broken in, but He forestalls them. For just as we call "morning" in the case of fruits that which appears before the proper time, so indicating the speed here again, He thus spoke: as He was saying above, *While you are yet speaking, I will say, Behold, I am here.* But what light does He speak of, and what is that light? Not this sensible light, but another much better, which shows us the heaven; the angels, the archangels, the Cherubim, the Seraphim, the Thrones, the Dominions, the Principalities, the Powers, the whole army, the royal cities, the tabernacles. For if you are deemed worthy of that light, you will see these things as well, and you will be delivered from Gehenna and from the venomous worm and from the gnashing of teeth, from the pain of bonds, from distress and hardships, from darkness shorn of light, from the rending, and from the rivers of fire, and from the curse, and from the places full of pain; and you will go away into the place whence sorrow and mourning have fled, where there is much joy and peace, love, pleasure, gladness; where there is eternal life and ineffable glory, and unutterable beauty; where there are eternal tabernacles, and the secret glory of the King, and those good things, *Which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have they ascended into the heart of man* (1 Cor. 2:9); where is the spiritual marriage chamber and the bridal halls of the heavens, and the virgins having splendid lamps, and those who are clothed in the wedding garment; where the palaces of the Lord are, and the royal storehouses. Do you see how great the rewards are, and how many He disclosed by a single utterance, and how He brought all things together at once? Therefore, if we explain each word one after another, we shall find many resources and an immense sea. Let us not therefore delay, nor be slothful in distributing alms to the needy: do not, I beseech you; but even if it be necessary to cast away all things, even if it be necessary to be cast into the fire, and even if it be necessary to proceed against blades, and even if it be necessary to leap into swords and to suffer anything at all, let us bear all things easily, so that we may be able to have the Holy Spirit with us. But also let us honor with great honor him to whom is entrusted the operation of the divine mysteries: for great indeed is the dignity of priests. *Whose sins you remit,* He says, *they are remitted.* Therefore Paul used to say: *Obey your leaders, and submit to them* (Hebr. 13:17), and hold them in the highest honor. For you care for your own affairs; and if you manage these rightly, you will have no account to give for others: but the priest, even if he has managed his own life rightly, if he has not diligently cared for yours, will go away with the wicked into Gehenna; and often, not perish for his own deeds, but through yours, if he has not rightfully watched over you according to his ability. Since therefore you know the magnitude of the danger, show much benevolence yourselves ^C—that which Paul alluded to, saying, *They watch for your souls, as those who are to give account.* Therefore it is fitting that they enjoy much devotion. But if you together with others rise up against them, your own affairs will not be in a right state. For as long as the pilot is of good spirit, the affairs of the passengers will be in safety; but if they load him with reproaches and act towards him with a hostile spirit, he will no longer be able to labor and watch in this way, nor preserve his art, and even against his will he will be brought into a thousand ^D evils.

and you do not suffer any harm from them, as they themselves have been entrusted to God. For if He saw fit to grant a voice to an ass, and through a soothsayer bestowed spiritual blessings, and operated within the mouth of a brute and the impure tongue of Balaam ^A for the sake of the Jews who were offending, much more, for your sake—you who are grateful and upright—even if the priests are extremely wicked, will He perform all His own works, and send the Holy Spirit. For it is not the one who is pure that draws Him down by his own purity, but it is grace that accomplishes everything. For "all things," he says, "are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas" (1 Cor. 3.22). For what is entrusted to the priest, it is God's alone to bestow; and wherever human philosophy may reach, it will appear inferior to that grace. And I say this, not so that we might dispose our life sluggishly, but so that, when some of our leaders are slothful, you who are subjects may not often heap up evils for yourselves. ^B And why do I speak of priests? Neither an angel nor an archangel can do anything regarding the things given by God, but the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit dispense all things; the priest merely lends his own tongue and provides his own hand. For it was not just that those who approach the symbols of our salvation with faith should be harmed by another’s wickedness. Knowing all these things, then, let us fear God, and hold His priests in honor, bestowing upon them every honor, so that both for our own righteous deeds and for the reverence shown to them, we may receive a great recompense from God, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory forever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XXXIX

^C That God has given us many ways to avoid sin, if we be willing; and that whoever intends to attain the kingdom of heaven must keep all the commandments; and that to one who succeeds in some but transgresses in others, it is in Gehenna that the difference compared to others is to be known.

Once again I am compelled, beloved, to accuse the present state of affairs. And what am I to do? I did not wish to, but I am compelled. For if it were possible, by keeping silence and saying nothing, to erase the things that have happened, one ought to be silent; but since the opposite occurs (for not only is it not erased by our silence, but it becomes worse), it is necessary to speak. For he who accuses those who sin, if nothing else, at least does not allow them to proceed further. For there is no soul so shameless and bold as, when it constantly hears itself being rebuked by some, not to feel shame, and not to abate its great wickedness. For there is, there is indeed, some small sense of shame even in the shameless; for God has implanted shame in our nature. Since, therefore, fear was not enough to ^D regulate us, He prepared many other ways of not sinning; for instance, the being accused by a man, the fearing of the established laws, the longing for glory, the claiming of friendships; for all these are ways of not sinning. For often that which was not done for God's sake, was done for fear of men. For this is what is sought: first to learn not to sin, then to do this for God's sake—we shall succeed in that later. Since why does Paul, when exhorting those who are to overcome their enemies, not urge them from the fear of God, but from the expectation of vengeance? For by doing this, he says, "you will heap coals of fire upon his head" (Rom. 12.20). For a time, he desires this, that virtue be achieved.

What, therefore, I was saying: there is something susceptible to shame within us. We have many natural goods toward virtue; for instance, we are all human beings naturally moved to show mercy, and there is nothing else so good in our nature as this. Whence one might reasonably inquire why this above all is implanted in our nature—to be moved to tears, to be softened, to be ready to act. No one is naturally idle, no one is naturally vainglorious, no one is naturally superior to pride, but showing mercy is inherent in all by nature, even if one be cruel, even if one be harsh. And what is wonderful? We show mercy even to beasts; so abundantly is mercy implanted in us. If we see a lion's whelp, we are moved, and yet much more for one of our own kind. See how many are maimed? And this is sufficient to lead us to mercy. Nothing pleases God so much as almsgiving. Wherefore the priests were anointed with it, as were the kings and the prophets; for they had the oil as a symbol of God's loving-kindness. Again they were taught that the ruler must have more mercy; it signified that the Spirit also was to come upon man for the sake of mercy. Since God shows mercy to men and is kind, for this reason they were anointed with oil. For He made the priesthood out of mercy; and kings were anointed with oil. "For you show mercy," he says, "to all, for you can do all things." And if one were to praise a ruler...

he would say that nothing is so fitting for him as mercy: for this is the proper quality of rule, to show mercy. Think of how the world was established through mercy, and imitate the Lord. The mercy of a man is toward his neighbor; the mercy of the Lord is upon all flesh. Whether you speak of sinners or of the just, we all have need of the mercy of God; we all share in it, whether it be Paul, or Peter, or John. And listen to them saying: "There is no need of our own words." For what says that blessed one? "But I obtained mercy, because I did it in ignorance." And listen to what he says: "I labored more than them all, yet not I, but the grace of God with me." And concerning Epaphroditus he says: "For he was indeed sick unto death; but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but also on me, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow." And again: "We were pressed beyond measure, above strength, so that we were weary even of living. But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God, who delivered us from so great a death, and will deliver us." And again: "I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion, and the Lord will deliver me." And everywhere you will find him boasting of this, that he was saved by mercy. Peter, too, was such a man because he had obtained mercy; for listen to Christ saying to him: "Satan desired to sift you as wheat; but I prayed for you, that your faith should not fail." And John was such a man in mercy, and all of them without exception; for listen to Christ saying: "You did not choose me, but I chose you." For we all have need of the mercy of God: "For the mercy of God," he says, "is upon all flesh." If indeed they stood in need of the mercy of God, what would you say of the rest? For whence, tell me, does He make the sun to rise upon the good and the evil? And what if He were to withhold the rain for only one year, would He not destroy all things? And what if there were an excessive force of showers, a vast deluge? Or what if He sent flies? But why do I say this? If He were to do what He did of old, would not all perish? "What is man, that you are mindful of him?" Now it may be said opportunely: If He were only to threaten the earth, all would become one tomb. "As a drop of water from a bucket," he says, "so are the nations in His sight; they shall be considered as spittle, as the moment of a balance." As it is easy for us to move a scale, so is it for Him to destroy all things and to create them anew. He, therefore, who has such power over us, and sees us sinning every day, and does not punish, does He not tolerate us out of mercy? For even the dumb animals are there by mercy: "You shall save both men and animals, O Lord." He looked upon the earth and filled it with living creatures. Why? For your sake. But why did He make you? For His goodness. Nothing is better than oil; it is the cause of light, and there likewise it is the cause of light. "And your morning light shall arise," says the prophet, ^B if you show mercy to your neighbor. And just as this oil contains the light, so mercy there bestows upon us a light great and wonderful. The principle of this mercy was of great importance to Paul: for listen to him saying: "Only that we should remember the poor." And elsewhere: "If it be worthy that I also go." And everywhere you see him solicitous about this. And again: "Let our people also learn to excel in good works." And again: "For these things are good and profitable to men." Listen also to another saying: "Alms deliver from death." If, however, you should take away mercy, O Lord, who shall stand? "And if You enter," he says, "into judgment with Your servant." "A great thing is a man, and a precious thing is a merciless man." For this is what a merciful man is; and indeed, this is what God is: to show mercy. Do you see how great is the power of the mercy of God? He did all these things, He created the world out of goodness alone. Therefore He even threatened hell, that we might obtain the kingdom; and we obtain the kingdom through mercy. For why, when only He existed, did He make so great a number? Was it not because of His goodness? Because of His loving-kindness? If you ask why this and that, you will find goodness everywhere. Let us, therefore, show mercy to our neighbor, that we may obtain mercy ourselves. For we are not gathering this mercy for them so much as for ourselves on that day, when the flame of fire will be vehement; by this mercy it extinguishes the fire, and it is for us the cause of light; thus through it we shall be delivered from the fire of hell. For whence is one moved to compassion? Mercy is born of charity. Nothing so irritates God as to be unmerciful. And further, as we have five senses, and it is right to use all of them, so it is with all the virtues. If anyone should be temperate, but unmerciful; or unmerciful, but rapacious; or should abstain from what is another's, but not distribute his own: all is done in vain. For one virtue alone does not suffice to lead us with confidence to the tribunal of Christ, but there is need of many and various and manifold virtues, and of all of them. For listen to Him saying to His disciples: "Go, teach all nations, teaching them to keep all things whatsoever I have commanded you." And again: "Whoever shall break one of these least commandments, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven"; that is, in the resurrection. For he shall not enter into the kingdom; for He is wont to call the very time of the resurrection the kingdom. If he shall break one, He says, he shall be called least. Therefore we must keep all things. And see how it is not possible to enter without alms, but if that alone is lacking, we shall depart into the fire: for He says, "Depart, you cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." Why, and for what reason? "Because I was hungry, and you did not give me to eat; I was thirsty, and you did not give me to drink." Do you see how, being accused of no other sin, they perished for this alone? And the virgins were for this reason only thrust from the bridal chamber, although they kept charity. "Follow peace," he says, "with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." Think, therefore, that without

^A chastity one cannot see the Lord; and yet, you cannot see Him by chastity alone; for often something else has hindered. Again, if we do everything correctly, but offer no help to our neighbor, nor enter into the kingdom (Jas. 2:10). Whence is this manifest? From those servants to whom the talents were entrusted: for there the virtue was entirely sincere, and nothing lacked; but because he had become slothful in working, he was justly cast out. One can fall into hell even from reviling alone; for he who says to his brother, he says, "You fool," shall be in danger of the hell of fire (Matt. 5:22). And if one has achieved everything, but was an insulter, he shall not enter. And let no one accuse God of cruelty if he casts out of the kingdom of heaven those who have slipped in this way. For if among men, even if someone has committed any of the forbidden things, he has fallen from the sight of the king, even if he has transgressed one of the established laws; if he has slandered while accusing, he has lost his authority; if he has committed adultery and is caught, he has become unworthy; even if he has achieved ten thousand things, he perishes; and if he has committed murder and is shown to be such, this alone is enough to destroy him; if the laws of men enjoy such strictness, much more so the laws of God. But He is good, you say. How long shall we utter this foolish speech? I said foolish, not because He is not good, but because we think His goodness is useful to us for these things, although we have discussed this many times. For hear the Scripture saying: "Do not say, His mercy will propitiate the multitude of my sins" (Eccl. 5:6). It does not forbid us to say, "His mercy is great"; it does not exhort to this, but He wants us also to say this continuously, and for this reason Paul moves everything; but because of what follows: do not on this account, he says, wonder at God’s philanthropy, as to sinning and saying, "The multitude of my sins will propitiate." For this reason we discuss so many things about goodness, not that we, emboldened by this, may do everything—since goodness would be to the detriment of our salvation—but that we may not despair in our sins, but repent. For the kindness of God leads you to repentance, not to greater wickedness; but if you become depraved because of the kindness, you are rather slandering it before men (for I see many accusing the long-suffering of God), so that you shall pay the penalty, not having used it as is necessary. God is a philanthropist, but also a just judge; He forgives sins, but He renders to each according to his works; He overrides injustices, He removes iniquities, but He also conducts an examination. How then are these not contrary? They are not contrary, if we distinguish them by the times. He removes iniquities here both through the laver and through repentance; He conducts an examination of what has been done there through fire and torments. If therefore, even if I have worked ten thousand evils, he says, and I am cast out by one of them, and fall from the kingdom, for what reason do I not work all evils? The speech of an ungrateful servant, but nevertheless we shall solve even this argument. Do not work evils, in order that you may benefit yourself. For we shall all equally fall from the kingdom, but in hell we shall not all pay the same penalty, but one will pay a greater, another a milder one. For if you and he have despised, both he who did many things and he who did few, you shall equally fall from the kingdom; but if you have not despised equally, but one more and the other less, you will perceive the difference in hell. Why then, he says, does He threaten those who have not given alms ^B that they will go into the fire, and not simply into the fire, but into that which is prepared for the devil and his angels? For what reason and why? Nothing so provokes God, but He places this before all terrible things. For if one ought to love enemies; he who destroys even his friends, and is inferior in this to the Greeks, what punishment will he not be worthy of? So that here the magnitude of the sin made him go with the devil. For woe to him who does not do alms. And if this was so under the Old Testament, much more so under the New; if where the possession and enjoyment and care of wealth were allowed, such great concern was made for the assistance of the poor; how much more where we are commanded to cast away everything? For what did they not do there? They provided tithes, and again tithes, they were there for orphans, widows, and proselytes. But someone, admiring a certain person, said to me, "So-and-so gives tithes." How much of shame this contains, if, when it was not a wonder among the Jews, this has become a wonder among Christians! If then there was danger in neglecting tithes, consider how much it is now. Drunkenness again does not inherit the kingdom. But what is the speech of the many? Therefore, if I and he are in the same things, small is the consolation. What then? For the most part, you and he shall not enjoy the same punishment; but also, this is not a consolation. For then the community of sufferings has consolation, when the terrible things are commensurate; but when it exceeds and makes us frantic, it no longer allows one to receive consolation. For tell the one who is being tortured, and has entered into the pyre, that "So-and-so also suffers this"; but he will not even perceive the consolation. Did not all the Israelites perish together? What consolation did this bring to them? Did not this very thing grieve them more? Therefore they said, "We have perished, we are destroyed, we are dying" (Num. 17:12). What then is this consolation? Vainly we console ourselves with these hopes; one only consolation is there, not to fall into that unquenchable fire; but having fallen, it is not possible to obtain consolation, where is the gnashing of teeth, where is the weeping, where is the undying worm, where is the fire unquenchable. For tell me, will you imagine any consolation at all, being in affliction and tribulation? For you will be in yourself from then on. Do not, I beg and implore, let us deceive ourselves in vain, and console ourselves with these words, but let us do those things which will be able to save us. Is it proposed to sit with Christ, and do you quibble about these things? For if there were no other sin, for these words how much punishment would you need to undergo, because we are so slothful, because we are so miserable and relaxed, as, with such honor proposed, to say these things? But when you consider then those who have succeeded, do you not melt away more? When you see those from slaves and from the ignoble who have labored little here, and are partaking of the royal throne there, will not these things be worse for you than the punishment? For if even now, seeing some prospering, although suffering nothing bad, you are destroyed by this alone worse than any punishment, and you mourn and weep for yourself, and judge yourself worthy of ten thousand deaths, what will you undergo then? If there were no hell, would the very thought of the kingdom not be sufficient to destroy and ruin?

that this is the case, it is sufficient to learn from the experience of facts. Let us not, therefore, vainly console ourselves with such words; but let us be attentive, let us be concerned for our salvation, and let us practice virtue, and rouse ourselves to good works, that we may be deemed worthy to attain such glory, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be power, glory, and honor, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XL

Nothing is more felicitous than those who attain the kingdom of heaven, O brethren, just as nothing is more wretched than those who lose it. For if anyone driven from his fatherland moves everyone to pity, and he who has lost his inheritance seems wretched to all: he who falls from heaven and from the goods stored up there, with how many tears ought he to be bewailed? Nay, rather, not bewailed; for one is bewailed when he suffers something for which he is not himself the cause; but when he has cast himself into wickedness of his own will, he will be worthy, not of tears, but of lamentations; nay, even of mourning. For our Lord Jesus Christ even bewailed and wept over Jerusalem, although it was acting impiously (Luc. 19). We are indeed worthy of a thousand tears, a thousand lamentations. If the whole world were to take up a voice, and stones and trees and beasts and birds and fishes, and the whole world, I say, were to take up a voice and bewail us who have fallen from those goods, it would not weep and lament according to our desert. For what speech, what mind could declare that beatitude, that virtue, pleasure, glory, joy, and splendor? ^B"Things which eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and which have not entered into the heart of man" (1 Cor. 2:9), as someone says, "which God has prepared for those who love him." For what kind of goods is it likely that God is preparing? If, after He made us, before we had done anything, He bestowed such great things—promised paradise, communion with Himself, immortality, a life blessed and void of cares: what will He not bestow upon those who have done so much, who have struggled, who have suffered for Him? He spared not His Only-Begotten for our sake, He handed over His own true Son to death for our sake when we were enemies: of what will He not deem us worthy, if we become His friends? What will He not give us when we are reconciled to Him? And He is very rich and immense, and desires and is concerned to attain our friendship: but we, beloved, are not so concerned to attain it; and why do I say, we are not concerned? We do not wish to attain those goods as He wishes; and that He wishes it more, He showed by what He has done. For we, for our own sake, scarcely despise a little money; but He, for our sake, gave His Son. Let us make use, as is right, of the love of God, let us enjoy His friendship. "For you are my friends," He says, "if you do what I command you" (John 15:14). ^CThose who are distant from Him in every way, from whom He differs in every way above measure, these He calls His friends. What then would not have to be endured for such friendship? For human friendship we often risk our lives; but for the friendship of God do we not even squander our money? Our affairs are indeed worthy of mourning; of mourning, tears, groanings, great lamentations and wailing. We have fallen from our hope, we have been humiliated from our height, we have been seen as unworthy of the honor of God, we have become wicked and ungrateful after having received benefits: the devil has stripped us of all goods. We who had been deemed worthy to be sons and brothers and co-heirs, we differ in no way from His enemies, who have treated Him with injury. What consolation will there be for us at last? He called us to heaven, but we have cast ourselves down to hell. ^DAnd so both lying and theft and adultery have been poured out upon the earth; some mix blood upon blood, others do things worse than bloodshed; many who are injured, many whose goods are seized, pray for a thousand deaths rather than to suffer these things; and were they not restrained by the fear of God, they would lay hands upon themselves, so much do they desire death. Are these not worse than bloodshed? Woe is me, O soul! "Because the pious has perished from the earth, and there is no one who acts rightly among men" (Mic. 7:2). But now let us cry out for ourselves first. But join in the lamentation with me. Perhaps some even refuse and laugh; and for this reason the lamentation must be increased, because we are so insane and demented, and we do not even know that we are insane, but we laugh at things over which we ought to groan. "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all impiety and injustice of men" (Rom. 1:18). "God shall come manifestly" (Psal. 49:3). "Fire shall go before Him, and round about Him a strong tempest: fire shall burn before Him, and consume His enemies round about" (Psal. 96:3). "The day of the Lord as an oven kindled" (Mal. 4:1). And no one brings these into his mind; but these tremendous and terrible doctrines are despised and trampled upon more than fables; and there is no one who listens, but all laugh. What will be our end? From where shall we find salvation? We have perished, we have been consumed (Num. 17:12); we have become a derision to our enemies, and a byword to the nations and to demons. The devil now thinks high of himself, he exults and rejoices; the angels to whom we have been entrusted, all are in shame and sadness; there is no one who turns, all things have been consumed in vain by us, and we seem to you to be babbling? It is opportune now to call upon heaven, since no one is listening, and to contest the elements: "Hear, O heaven, and listen, O earth, for the Lord has spoken" (Isai. 1:2). Give a hand, reach out, you who have not yet been submerged, to those who have perished through drunkenness; you who are healthy, to the sick; you who are wakeful, to the frenzied and to those who are being driven about. Let no one therefore prefer the favor of a friend to his salvation; and let both the reproach and the rebuke look to his one utility. When fever takes hold, even slaves restrain their master. For when he is burning, the soul being troubled, the slaves

^A restrain him, and he does not take it amiss. When he is raging, they bind him, and he does not count them his enemies. They do not do this because they are his masters, but because they are concerned for his health. If then, in bodily diseases, we suffer such remedies, why do you take offense when someone seeks to save your soul? They are doing it out of love, not out of hatred. ^B If someone sees a house on fire, he does not ask who the person is who brings the water, but is glad that it is brought. So, do not look at who is speaking, but consider the utility of the words. But I am told: “The things you say are always full of tears; they are always full of lamentations.” I did not wish this, believe me, I did not wish it, but it is the pain that compels me. Forgive me, I am forced by grief; I say many things that I do not wish to say. I see the wound is grave, the ^C misfortune inconsolable; the evils that have overtaken us are greater than any consolation; we are perishing. “Who will give water to my head, and fountains of tears to my eyes,” that I may lament (Jer. 9:1)? Let us weep, beloved, let us weep; let us groan. Perhaps there are some here saying: “He speaks only of lamentations to us, always tears.” I did not wish this, believe me, I did not wish it, but to pass over to encomiums and praises: but now is not the time for these. For it is not lamenting, beloved, that is difficult, but to act in a way worthy of lamentation; ^D it is not mourning that is to be shunned, but to do things worthy of mourning. Do not be punished, and I do not mourn; do not die, and I do not weep. But if the body lies dead, you invite everyone to sympathize, and you consider those who do not mourn to be heartless: but when the soul is perishing, do you say not to mourn? But I cannot; I am a father, and I weep; I am a father who loves. Hear what Paul cries out: “My little children, of whom I am again in travail” (Gal. 4:19). What mother in labor utters such bitter cries as he did? If it were possible to see the pyre of his mind, you would see that I am burned more than any woman or maiden who has endured widowhood; she does not mourn her husband, nor a father his son, as I mourn this multitude among us. I see no progress; everything is for slander and accusations; no one sets it as his work to please God. “But,” he says, “let us speak ill of this one, and of that one; this one is unworthy of his rank, that one lives immodestly.” Being ourselves debtors of ten thousand talents, do we judge others for a hundred denarii? And even if we were free of sins, we ought not to do this. “For who differentiates you?” he says. “And what do you have that you did not receive? But if you also received, why do you boast as if you had not received?” (1 Cor. 4:7). But you, why do you judge your brother, being yourself full of ten thousand evils? When you say, “This one is wicked, a plunderer, and base,” consider yourself, and examine your own affairs accurately, and you will repent of what you have said. If, therefore, someone should attempt to weigh our words in church as if in a just balance, among ten thousand talents of worldly speech, he will scarcely find a hundred denarii of spiritual words, or rather not even ten obols. If, therefore, God is to observe these things, who will endure? Considering these things, let us be merciful, forgiving towards those who sin against us. The sins against us are a hundred denarii; but those from us towards God are ten thousand talents. For you know that sins are judged by the quality of the persons; what do I mean? He who insults a private individual has sinned, but not in the same way as he who insults a ruler, and more than him, he who insults a greater ruler, but not in the same way as he who insults the lesser; but he who insults the king, much more. The insult is the same, but because of the excellence of the person, it becomes greater. If he who insults the king has an unbearable punishment because of the prerogative of his person, of how many talents will he be liable who insults God? So that even if we sin the same things against God as against men, not even so is it equal; but as much as the interval between God and men, so much is the interval between those sins and these. Yet now I find the sins to be even more, made great not by the excellence of the person, but by their very nature. And the discourse is indeed terrible and truly fearful, but it must be said so that it might shake and agitate our mind, showing that we fear and honor men much more than God. Consider: the adulterer knows that God sees him, and he despises Him; but if a man sees him, he restrains his desire. Does he not prefer men, does he not insult God, but what is much more grievous, fearing those, he despises Him? For if he sees them, he restrains the flame of desire. Or rather, what flame? It is no longer a flame, but an insult. For if it were not permitted to have a wife, the thing might reasonably be a flame; but now it is excess and wantonness. For if he sees men, he stops his madness; but for God’s long-suffering he cares less. Again, another who is stealing knows that he is plundering, and he tries to deceive men, and makes an apologia to those who accuse him, and puts a cloak upon his defense; but not being able to persuade God, he does not care, he is not ashamed, and he does not honor Him. And if the king commands one to abstain from another’s money, or rather even to give one’s own, we all contribute readily; but when God commands not to plunder, nor to take the things of others, we do not tolerate it. Do you see that we prefer men to God? The statement is burdensome and grievous; but show that it is burdensome, flee the deed; but if you do not fear the deed, how can I believe you when you say that we fear the words and they are burdensome to us? You make yourselves heavy by the deed, and it is no matter; but if I speak the words of the things which you yourselves do, do you take offense? And how is this not absurd? Would that the things from me were false; I would desire myself to receive the reputation of reproach on that day, as having reproached you in vain and to no purpose, rather than to see you accused for such things. And not only do you yourselves prefer men to God, but you also compel others. Many have compelled many servants and children; some have dragged them into marriage when they did not wish it, others to serve in base ministries and to impure love and to plunderings and to greed and to violences; so that the crime is twofold, and they find no pardon even from necessity. For if you yourself do evil things involuntarily, and because of the command of a ruler, then indeed the defense is not sufficient, yet the sin becomes more grievous when you also compel others to fall into the same things. For what pardon could there be for such a one hereafter? I have said these things, not wishing to condemn you, but to show of how much we are debtors to God. For if even when honoring a man equally with God we insult God, much more so when we prefer men. If even these sins committed against men are shown to be much greater against God, how much more when the sin itself is greater and more grievous in its quality? Let everyone examine himself, and he will see that he does everything for the sake of men. We were very...

[LATIN COLUMN] 863 S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, but to show how great debtors we are to God. For if, when we honor a man and God equally, we insult God, much more [do we do so] when we prefer men to Him. If the same sins committed against men are shown to be far greater when committed against God, how much more so when the sin itself is greater and more grievous? Let a man examine himself, and he will see that he does everything for the sake of men. How blessed we would be if we did as much for the sake of God as we do for the sake of men and for human glory, fear, and honor. ^B If, therefore, we are liable for so many and such great things, we ought from the heart to spare those who do us injury, who plunder our goods, and to forget the injury. For the way to the remission of sins requires no labors, no expenditure of money, nor anything else, but only the will; one need not travel abroad, nor seek the ends of the earth, nor undergo dangers or labors, but it is enough to wish it. What excuse, I ask, shall we have regarding those things which seem difficult, when we do not perform a matter that has such gain and such great utility, and no labor? Can you not renounce money? Can you not bestow wealth upon the needy? Can you not desire some good? Can you not spare one who does you an injury? For if you were not liable for so many things, yet God had commanded you to spare, would it not be necessary to do it? But now, being liable for so many sins, do you not spare? And this, when He demands [payment] from those things which you have from Him. If, therefore, we come to our debtor, he, knowing the situation, honors, receives, and respects us, and shows all benevolence, and yet is not released from the interest, but [it is done] so that He may make us milder regarding the demand; but you, ^C when you owe so much to God, and are commanded to forgive so that you may receive again—do you not forgive? Why, I ask you? Woe to me, what kindness we enjoy! How great is the wickedness we show! How great the sleep! How great the sloth! How easy is virtue! Here there is no need for bodily strength, no money, no power, no friendship, no other thing; but it is enough to wish it, and the whole matter is perfected, having much utility. Was someone annoying to you, did he insult and strike you? Think that you do many similar things against others and against the Lord Himself: forgive and spare: let it come to your mind to say: "Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors" (Matt. 6:13). Think that if you do not forgive, you will not be able to say this with confidence; but if you do forgive, you ask for it as a debt, not because of the nature of the thing, but because of the kindness of the Giver. And how is it equal, for him who forgives his fellow servants, to receive remission of sins against the Lord? And yet we obtain this kindness, because He is rich in mercy and pity. ^D That I may show you, however, that besides that and besides the remission, from the mere fact that you forgive, you bring back gain: think how many friends such a man has, how all everywhere celebrate him with praises. He is a good man who is easily reconciled, who knows not how to remember injuries; as soon as he is wounded, he is healed. Such a man, if he falls into calamity, who will not pity? Who will not forgive him when he sins? Who will not grant grace to him who intercedes for others? Who would not want to be a friend or servant to such a good soul? Yes, I implore you, let us do everything for this matter, not only toward friends and relatives, but even toward servants: "Forgiving," He says, "their threats, knowing that your Lord is in heaven" (Eph. 6:9). If we forgive sins to our neighbor, if we bestow alms, if we are humble (for this too washes away sins; for if the publican, because he only said, "Be merciful to me a sinner" [Luke 18:13], went down justified, much more shall we, if we be humble and contrite, be able to obtain much mercy); if we confess our sins and condemn ourselves: we shall wipe away the greatest part of the filth. For there are many ways that cleanse. Let us therefore oppose the devil from all sides. I have said nothing difficult, nothing harsh. Forgive him who did you evil, pity him who seeks pardon, humble your soul: even if you are a great sinner, you will be able to obtain the kingdom, by these things purging sins and wiping away filth. Would that all, having been purged here of all filth of sins through confession, might obtain there the promised goods, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, power, honor, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XLI

If Paul, writing to Timothy, beloved, commanded servants to use much obedience toward their masters, think how it is that we ought to be affected toward the Lord, who created us from nothing, who sustains and clothes us. If in no other way, at least let us serve Him as our servants serve us. Do they not spend their whole life in this matter, that they may procure rest for their masters; and is this work, is this their life, that they may be anxious about his affairs? Do they not care for what is the master's throughout the whole day, and for their own only in a small part of the evening? We, on the contrary, are always about our own, but about the Lord's [affairs]—not even for a small part of time: and this when He does not need our service, as masters need the work of servants, but when those very things performed for the Lord accrue to our own utility and gain. For there, the service of the servant is useful to the master; here, however, the service of the servant does not benefit the Lord, but rather the servant himself: "For of my goods," He says, "you have no need" (Ps. 15:2). Say to me, for what profit is there to God if I be righteous? What loss, if I be unrighteous? Is not that nature undefiled? Is it not free from all loss and passion? Servants possess nothing of their own, but everything belongs to the master, even if they abound in wealth: we, however, have many possessions, nor is it without cause that we enjoy such honor from the God of all.

HOMILY XLI.

What master ever gave his own son for a slave? None; but all would choose to give slaves for their children. Here, however, it is the reverse: He did not spare his own Son, but gave Him up for us all, for all the enemies who hated Him. Servants, even if they are ordered to do heavy tasks, do not resent it, especially if they are well-disposed; yet we fret over ten thousand things. ^A No such promise is made to servants as what God makes to us; but what? Freedom, he says, here—which is often more burdensome than slavery; for often hunger has overtaken us, and this freedom has become more bitter than slavery; and [yet] this is the greatest gift. But with God there is nothing perishable, nothing corruptible: but what? *I do not call you slaves,* He says; *you are my friends* (John 15:15). Let us be ashamed, beloved; let us fear; if servants serve us, let us serve the Master; or rather, we do not even show a percent of the service [they show us]. They act philosophically out of necessity, having only clothing and food; we, however, abuse [our] luxury. ^B If from nowhere else, let us at least receive the standards of philosophy from them. For Scripture knows how to send men not only to servants, but also to irrational creatures; as, for example, when it commands us to imitate the bee or the ants (Prov. 6). But I exhort [you] to imitate even [your] servants: whatever they do out of fear of us, let us do even that much out of fear of God; for we will not find you doing it. They, through fear of us, are insulted ten thousand times, and stand silent, more than any philosopher; they are insulted both justly and unjustly, and do not talk back, but plead, though often having done no wrong; ^C receiving nothing more than what is needed, and often even less, they are content; and sleeping on a pallet, and being filled only with bread, and having all their other way of life lowly, they do not complain nor resent it. They, through fear of us, when entrusted with money, return it all (for do not tell me of the wicked among servants, but of those not overly bad); if we threaten, they immediately draw back. Are these not signs of philosophy? Do not say that it happens by necessity, because the necessity of hell also hangs over you, and not even so are you sober, nor do you provide as much honor to God as you enjoy from your servants. ^D Each of the servants has an assigned dwelling, and does not trespass into his neighbor's, nor does he covet the possession of a greater one. And one might see these things kept among servants through fear of their masters; and rarely would you see a servant seizing or damaging the things of another servant. But among free men the opposite of these things happens; we bite and devour one another, we do not fear the Master; we seize the things of our fellow servants, we steal, we strike, while He is looking. This, a servant would not do, but would [refrain], even if he strikes, when the master is not looking; even if he insults, when he is not listening; but we dare [to sin] while God is both seeing and hearing everything. The fear of the master is before their eyes at all times; but of Him, we have none at any time. For this reason everything has been turned upside down, everything is confused and corrupted, and we ourselves never take to heart the things in which we have sinned; yet we examine the sins of our servants with all precision, even the smallest. I say these things, not wishing to make servants arrogant, but to turn our own arrogance, to awaken our sloth; so that even if it is in this way we may serve God—as servants serve us; so [we may serve] Him who made us, as they serve us, who are of the same essence, and who have not received any such [good] from us. These too are free by nature; *Let them have dominion over the fish,* and to them it was said. This is not a slavery of nature, but of merit and circumstance; but nevertheless they provide us with much honor. We, however, impose upon them with all precision for the sake of our own service; yet to God we do not provide even a percent of that, and this is true even though the benefit turns back to us. For by how much more earnestly we serve God, by so much more we shall benefit ourselves, and we ourselves shall profit more. Let us not, then, deprive ourselves of such benefit. For God is self-sufficient and in need of nothing; but the reward and the profit return again to us. And if it is necessary to philosophize also about the good things laid up for the saints, truly that is the ease that is truly so, where pain and sorrow and sighing have fled away; where there are no anxieties, nor labors, nor anguish, nor fear that strikes and shakes the soul, but only the fear of God, which is full of pleasure. It is not there, *In the sweat of your face you shall eat your bread,* nor thorns and thistles; it is not there, *In pains you shall bring forth children, and your turning shall be to your husband, and he shall rule over you* (Gen. 3:19, 16). Everything is joy, peace, gladness, pleasure, goodness, gentleness, love. There is no jealousy there, nor envy, no death, neither this one of the body, nor that one of the soul, no shadow, nor night; everything is day, everything is light, everything is bright. It is impossible to grow weary, it is impossible to be sated; we shall ever continue in the desire for good things. Do you wish to have some image of the condition there? It is not possible; nevertheless, as far as is possible, I shall try to give you some image. Let us look up into the heaven, when, with no cloud troubling [it], it shows its own crown; then after having spent a long time [looking] at the beauty of its appearance, let us consider that we shall have a floor—not like this one, but as much more beautiful as a golden ceiling is compared to a clay one; and the one after that, again, the floor above that, then the angels, the archangels, the infinite throngs of the incorporeal powers, the very palaces of God, the paternal throne. But, as I said, words do not have the power to present the whole; there is need of experience and of knowledge which is born through experience. How do you think, tell me, Adam was in paradise? This way of life is much better than that, by as much as heaven is better than earth. Nevertheless, let us seek another image. If it were to fall to the lot of one reigning to now rule over the whole world, and then to be troubled neither by wars nor by anxieties, but only to be honored and to live in luxury, and to have many guards, and for gold to flow to him from every side, and for him to be a spectacle to all; what kind of soul do you think he would have, if he saw the wars everywhere on earth ceased? Such something it shall be; or rather, I have not yet reached that image; therefore it is necessary to seek another one. Consider, then, with me. For just as a royal child, while he is in the womb, perceives nothing; but if it should happen that he suddenly came out from there to ascend the royal throne, not gradually, but to receive everything all at once; thus it is

this condition and that—or if he were to be dragged all of a sudden to the royal throne. ^A But not even thus have we attained an accurate image. For here, however many good things a man may receive, even if you say the kingship itself, at the first day he possesses a vigorous affection and desire, and even at the second and third; but as time proceeds, the pleasure indeed remains, but not as great: for it is always diminished by custom, whatever kind it may be; but there, it not only is not diminished, but it increases. Think how great a thing it is, that the soul which has departed there no longer expects an end to those good things, nor a change, but an increase, and a life having no end, free from every peril, every sorrow and anxiety, full of joy and infinite goods. For if, when we go out into the field, where we see the soldiers' tents fixed with screens, and their spears, and helmets, and the gleaming umbos of their shields, we remain suspended from the spectacle; but if it happens that we see the king running in the middle, or driving a horse with golden armor, we think we have attained everything: what do you think it will be when you see the ^B eternal tabernacles of the saints fixed in heaven? For he says, Receive you into their eternal tabernacles (Luke xvi. 9): when you see each of them shining more than the solar rays; not of bronze and iron, but of that glory, the splendor of which the human eye cannot see? And these things indeed are among men. But what can be said about the so many thousands of angels, archangels, Cherubim, Seraphim, Thrones, Dominations, Principalities, Powers, whose beauty is incomprehensible and surpasses every mind? But until when shall I pursue those things which cannot be touched? For neither has the eye seen, he says, nor the ear heard, nor have they entered into the heart of man, those things which God has prepared for them that love him (1 Cor. ii. 9). Therefore, there is nothing more miserable than those who do not attain this, nor more blessed than those who do attain it. But may we be of the number of the blessed, that we may attain the eternal good things in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom with the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, empire, honor, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XLII.

That it does not behoove us to be troubled when we see the good acting unprosperously, but the wicked in an abundance of goods; and that he who lives in sin differs nothing from a dead man.

Let no one, beloved, seeing the wicked acting prosperously, be troubled: ^C there is no retribution here, neither of malice nor of virtue. But if sometimes it happens that either wickedness is punished or virtue is rewarded, that is not done according to merit, but simply, and it is as it were a taste or indication of judgment, so that those who do not believe in the resurrection, even from the things which happen here, might be brought back to a sound mind. When, therefore, we see an evil man abounding in delights, let us not be cast down; when we see a good man suffering ill, let us not be troubled: for there are the crowns, there are the torments. And besides, a bad man cannot be evil in all things, but he may have some good things; nor can a good man be good in all things; but he may have some sins. When, therefore, the evil man acts prosperously, it turns into the evil of his own head: for as if having received the reward of a few good things which he did, he might be punished there at last, for this reason he received it here. That man is most blessed ^D who is punished here, that having put aside all sins, approved, pure and innocent, he may depart. And teaching us this, Paul says: Therefore among you are many infirm and weak, and many sleep; and again, I have delivered such a one unto Satan (1 Cor. xi. 30 and v. 5). And the prophet says: He has received from the hand of the Lord double for his sins (Isa. xl. 2): and again David, See my enemies, that they have multiplied above the hairs of my head, and have hated me with an unjust hatred; and, Forgive all my sins (Ps. xxiv. 18, 19). And another again, Lord, give us peace: for all things you have given to us (Isa. xxvi. 12). But these things show that the good receive punishments for their sins here: but where is it said that the wicked receive their good things here, and are there completely punished? Hear Abraham saying to the rich man, You have received your good things in your life, and Lazarus evils (Luke xvi. 25). What good things? For here, saying You have received, not You have accepted, he shows that both have suffered according to debt, and one was in prosperity, the other in hardships: and he says, Therefore he receives consolation here; for you see him clean from sins; and you are tormented. So let us not take it ill when we see sinners acting prosperously here; but when we ourselves suffer evils, let us rejoice: for that is the expiation of sins. Let us not seek rest: for Christ promised hardships to his disciples; and Paul says: All who wish to live piously in Christ will suffer persecution. Now one seeks baths, or a table full of dishes and wine; this would not be of an athlete, but of a soft man. For the athlete fights in dust, in oil, in the scorching heat of the sun's rays, with much sweat, hardship, anguish: for this is the time of contests and fighting; therefore also of receiving wounds with blood and pain. Hear what the blessed Paul says: So I fight, not as beating the air (1 Cor. ix. 26). Let us consider the whole life to be in a contest, and we will never seek quiet, we will never take it ill when afflicted in hardships: for indeed not even a boxer, when he is in the contest, thinks he is suffering anything strange. There is another time for quiet; through hardships we must be made perfect. Even if there is no persecution, nor tribulation, yet there are other tribulations which happen daily: for if we do not bear these, we could hardly bear those. Temptation has not apprehended you, he says, except human (1 Cor. x. 13). It is of prudent men not to throw themselves into dangers; this is for the noble and the philosophers. Therefore let us neither throw ourselves in rashly; for this would be a matter of excessive audacity, nor, when led to it, and when things themselves call, let us yield; [/cont]

but in such a way, ^A you must prepare yourself, like a brave soldier in arms, as one always sober, keeping watch, always expecting the enemy. Yet do not stir up wars; for this is not the act of a soldier, but of an insurgent. But if the trumpet of piety calls, go out at once, despise your soul, and enter the contests with great eagerness; break the phalanx of the adversaries, shatter the face of the devil, set up the trophy. But if piety is in no way harmed, and no one is ravaging our dogmas—I speak of the soul—nor compelling us to do any of the things that are not pleasing to God, do not be excessive. The life of a Christian must be full of blood; [741] not, however, in the sense of shedding the blood of others, but in being ready to shed one’s own. With as much eagerness, therefore, as one would pour out water, let us pour out our own blood, when it is for Christ’s sake; for the blood flowing around the body is like water; and with as much ease let us strip off our body as one would a garment. This will be so, if we are not attached to money, if we are not attached to houses, if we are not attached to passions, if we are not tethered to all things. For if those who live this military life renounce all things, and wherever the war calls, there they appear and march, and endure all things with eagerness; much more ought we, the soldiers of Christ, to be so prepared and arrayed against the war of the passions. There is no persecution now, and may there never be; but there is another war, that of the desire for money, that of envy, that of the passions. Describing this war, Paul says: *Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood* (Eph. 6. 12). This war is always present; for this reason he wishes us to stand always armed. *Stand, therefore*, he says, *having girded your loins*—which is itself also for the present time; and he showed that one must always be armed. For great is the war through the tongue, great through the eyes—let us therefore restrain these; great is that of the desires. For this reason, he begins to arm the soldier of Christ from there: *Stand, therefore, having girded*, he says, *your loins*, and he added, *in truth*. Why, *In truth*? For desire is a mockery and a lie; wherefore the prophet says: *My loins have been filled with delusions* (Ps. 37. 7). The thing is not pleasure, but a shadow of pleasure. *Having girded*, he says, *your loins in truth*. That is to say, with true pleasure, with temperance, with modesty. For this reason he gives this advice, knowing the absurdity of sin, and wishing all our members to be fenced about; for *unjust anger*, he says, *will not be justified* (Eccl. 1. 22); and he wishes us to be clothed with a breastplate, and a shield. For anger is a beast ^B that easily leaps upon us, and we shall need many fences and barriers in order to overcome and restrain it. And for this reason, God has built this part of us, as if from certain stones, namely the bones, placing support around it, so that it might not be easily broken or divided, and thereby destroy the whole animal. For it is fire, he says, and a great storm; and no other member could withstand this violence. And students of medicine also say that for this reason the lung is placed under the heart, so that, being soft, it might receive the heart like a sponge, allowing it to rest ^C as it leaps, and that it might not be harmed by hitting against the resistant and hard chest due to the force of its bounds. We therefore have need of a strong breastplate, so as to keep this beast in constant quiet; we have need also of a helmet. For since the faculty of reason is situated there, and it is from this that it is possible either to be saved, when right things are done, or to be lost, for this reason he says, *And the helmet of salvation* (Eph. 6. 17). For the brain is naturally soft; for which reason it is covered from above as if by a certain shell, the skull; and it is the cause to us of all goods and evils, whether it has known what is right, or what is not such. And the feet also and the hands need armor for us; not these hands, nor these feet, but again those of the soul; the former [742] practicing what is right, the latter, that they may walk where they ought. Let us therefore, beloved, do all things for that life which is to come; let us work while looking toward that. Vice is darkness, my beloved; it is death, it is night; we see none of the things we ought, we do none of the things that are proper. Just as the dead are unsightly and stinking; so also the souls of those in vice are full of much impurity; their eyes are closed, their mouth is sealed, they remain motionless in the bed of vice; or rather, they are more pitiable than those who suffer these things. For the dead are dead in both respects; but these are senseless to virtue, yet alive to vice. If one strikes a dead man, he does not feel, nor defend himself, but is like dry wood; so also the soul is truly dry, having cast off life; it receives countless wounds every day, and does not feel, but is kept insensible to all things. One would not err in comparing them to those who are mad, to those who are drunk, to those who are delirious. And vice has all of these, and is more grievous than all. The madman has much excuse from those who see him; for the malady is not of the will, but of nature alone; but he who lives in vice, whence shall he be excused? Whence then is vice? Whence are the majority evil? Tell me, whence is the vice of diseases, whence is frenzy? Whence is deep sleep? Is it not from inattention? If natural diseases have their beginning from the will, those involving the will do so much more. Whence comes drunkenness? Is it not from the incontinence of the soul? Is not frenzy from an excess of fever? And is not the fever from the elements that abound within us? And is not the excess [pleonexia] of the elements within us from inattention? For when we bring one of the things within us to excess, either by deficiency or by superfluity, we kindle that fire. Again, if once the flame is kindled we persist in neglecting it, we are building a pyre for ourselves, which we are not even able to extinguish. So also it happens in the case of vice: when we do not restrain it once it has begun, nor interrupt it, we are no longer able to reach the end, but it becomes greater than our strength. Therefore, I entreat you, let us do everything so as never to drowse. Do you not see the guards, that by giving themselves to sleep for a little while, they often derived no benefit from their long watch? For through that little bit they ruined the whole, giving free license to anyone who wished to steal. For just as we do not see thieves as clearly as they see us; so also the devil stands over us most of all, and lies in wait, and gnashes his teeth. Let us not drowse, therefore; let us not say

^A From this there is nothing, from that there is nothing to fear; for from those things from which we expected nothing to fear, we have often been despoiled. So also in the case of iniquity, from where we did not expect it, we perish. Let us scan all things accurately. Let us not get drunk, and we will not drowse; let us not live in luxury, and we will not nap; let us not be madly carried toward external things, and we will be vigilant; let us compose ourselves on all sides. And just as those who walk upon a stretched rope are unable to indulge in even a minimum of neglect—for a small error works a great evil; for by having been overturned, one is immediately thrown down and perishes—so it is not permitted for us to be neglectful. We walk a ^B narrow way, one that has precipices on both sides, which does not receive two feet together. Do you see how much accuracy is required of us? Do you not see those who travel along such roads, how they secure not only their feet, but also their eyes? For if one seems to pay attention to another side, even if his foot stands firmly, the eye, being darkened by the depth, throws the whole person down. But one must pay attention to walking. And for this reason he says, Neither to the right, nor to the left. Great is the depth of malice, great the precipices, much the darkness below. Let us pay attention to the narrow way with fear; let us walk in it with trembling. No one traveling such a road carries anything superfluous; for it is desirable to be able to run it untrammeled. No one hinders his own feet, but he lets them loose. But we, binding ourselves with a thousand cares, and carrying a thousand secular burdens, gaping and poured out, how do we expect to walk the narrow way? It did not say ^C simply that it is narrow, but with admiration: *How narrow is the path* (Matt. 7:14)! That is, very narrow. We do this also in things that are worthy of admiration. *And restricted is the way,* he says, *which leads to life.* And he rightly said, Narrow; for since we are going to render an account of words and thoughts and deeds and everything, it is truly narrow. But we make it narrower when we extend ourselves and sprawl our feet. For the narrow way is difficult to everyone, but most of all to the fat and obese; whereas he who macerates himself will not feel the narrowness. Therefore, he who studies to contract himself will not bear the narrowness with difficulty. Therefore let no one hope that he will see heaven with a relaxation of mind; for it cannot be; let no one hope, while living in luxury, that he will walk the narrow way; for it is not possible; let no one walking the wide way hope for life. When, therefore, you see someone giving himself to baths, to a luxurious table, or to a retinue, do not think yourself miserable, as one who does not enjoy such things, but lament for him, because he walks upon a pernicious way. For what utility is there from this way, when it ends in sorrows? What harm is there from that narrowness, ^D when it comes into rest? Tell me, if someone called to a palace were to walk through narrow places and precipices, while another, being led to death, were to be dragged through the middle of the forum—whom, I pray, shall we proclaim blessed? For whom shall we lament? Shall we not for him who walks along the wide way? Thus, not even now let us proclaim those happy who are given to luxuries, but those who abstain from them; these are hastening to heaven, those to hell. And perhaps many of them will mock the things we say; but I lament and wail for them most of all, because they know neither about what they should laugh, nor about what they should most of all lament; but they confuse and disturb and mix everything together. For this reason I lament for them. What do you say, O man? Since you are about to rise again, and to render an account of your deeds, and to undergo the ultimate vengeance, do you have no account of these things, but indulgence in the belly and in drunkenness, and do you laugh about these things? But I lament for you because I know the evils that await you, and the punishment you are about to receive; and for this reason I lament most of all because you laugh. Lament with me, wail with me for your evils. Tell me, if someone of your kin were to die in Christ, would you not turn away from those laughing about the death, and hold them as enemies, but love those who are weeping and lamenting with you? If, therefore, when a wife is dead and lying there, you turn away from laughter, but when your soul is dead, you turn away from the one weeping, and you yourself laugh? Do you see how the devil so affects us that we are enemies and foes to our very selves? Let us rouse ourselves at last, let us look back, let us be vigilant, let us attain eternal life, let us shake off much sleep. There is judgment, there is resurrection, an examination of deeds: the Lord comes in the clouds: *Fire will be kindled before him, and round about him a strong tempest* (Ps. 49:3): a river of fire is drawn before him, an immortal worm, inextinguishable fire, outer darkness, gnashing of teeth. Even if you are angry at these things a thousand times over, bearing them with difficulty, I will not make an end of speaking. For if the prophets were stoned and did not keep silent, much more does it behoove us to bear enmities, and not to address you for the sake of favor, lest by deceiving you we ourselves be cut asunder. There is the immortal, inconsolable punishment; there is no one who protects. *Who,* he says, *will pity a charmer who has been bitten by a serpent* (Eccl. 12:13)? When we do not pity ourselves, who, I pray, will pity us? If you saw anyone driving a sword against himself, could you spare him? By no means. Much more, when it is in our power to act rightly, and we do not do it, who will spare us? No one. Let us pity ourselves. When we pray to God saying, *Have mercy on me, O Lord*, let us say this to ourselves, that we may have mercy on ourselves. It is in our power that God might have mercy on us; he himself has granted this to us: if we do things worthy of mercy, if we perform things worthy of his kindness, God will have mercy on us; but if we do not have mercy on ourselves, who will spare us? Have mercy on your neighbor, and God will have mercy on you. How many daily approach saying, "Have mercy on me," and you do not listen? How many are naked, how many are maimed, and we are not moved, but we repel their supplications? How, therefore, do you ask for mercy, when you do nothing worthy of compassion? Let us, therefore, be merciful and compassionate, and thus we will be pleasing to God, and attain the promised goods to those who love him.

HOMILIA XLIII. That he who despises present things dominates both; and that avarice is worse than any mire and filth.

Since a certain great grace was about to be given from the beginning, beloved, to men, God, wishing not to grant this as a grace, but to provide it as a debt, prepares the first man to yield up his own son for the sake of God’s command, so that he might not seem to be doing anything great in yielding up his own Son, if a man had done this before him; so that this might not be thought to be done by grace alone, but also by debt. For those whom we love, we wish even to bestow this upon them: to appear to have received something small from them before, and thus to give them the whole, and we boast in the taking rather than in the giving, and we do not say, "This we gave him," but, "This we received from him." Whence, he says, he also "received him in a parable" (Heb. 11:19), that is, as in an enigma (for the ram of Isaac was, as it were, a parable), or as a type. Since the sacrifice had been completed, and Isaac had been slain in intention, for this reason he was granted back to the patriarch. ^A Do you see that what I always say is now shown? When we present our mind as completed, and show that we despise earthly things, then even earthly things are granted to us, but not before, so that it may not fetter us, who are already tied to receiving. "Loose," he says, "yourself from the slavery, and then receive, so that you may no longer receive as a slave, but as a master." Despise wealth, and you shall be wealthy; despise glory, and you shall be glorious; despise the punishment of your enemies, and then you shall attain it; despise ease, and then you shall take it; so that having taken it, you may not take it as one bound, nor as a slave, but as one free. For just as with little children, when the child desires childish trifles, we hide those things with great diligence, such as a ball and things of that kind, so that ^B he may not be hindered from necessary things; but when he despises them and no longer desires them, we share them with him without fear, knowing that no harm henceforth befalls him from that, since that desire is no longer powerful enough to lead him away from necessary things; so also God, when He sees that we no longer desire the things here below, allows us to use them; for as free men and adults we hold them, not as children. For that if you despise the punishment of your enemies, then you shall attain it, hear what He says: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink"; and He added: "For in doing this you will heap coals of fire upon his head" (Rom. 12:20). And again, that if you despise wealth, then you shall attain it, hear Christ saying: "There is no one who has left father, or mother, or houses, or brothers, who will not receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life" (Matt. 19:29). And that if you despise glory, then you shall attain it, ^C hear again Christ Himself saying: "Whoever wishes to be first among you, let him be your servant"; and again, "For whoever shall humble himself, this one shall be exalted" (Matt. 20:26 and 23:12). What do you say? If I give my enemy a drink, then do I punish him? If I leave my possessions, then do I have them? If I humble myself, then shall I be exalted? Yes, He says; for such is My power: to provide the contraries through the contraries. I am resourceful and capable; do not fear; the nature of things follows My will, I do not follow nature; I work all things, I am not led by them; wherefore I also wish to transform and remodel them. ^D And why do you marvel at these things? For you shall find the same thing in all other matters as well. If you do wrong, you have been wronged; if you are wronged, then you have not been wronged. If you take revenge, then you have not taken revenge, but you have taken revenge on yourself; "For he who loves injustice," he says, "hates his own soul" (Prov. 29:24). Do you see that you have not been wronged, but that you are doing wrong? For this reason Paul also says: "Why do you not rather suffer wrong?" (1 Cor. 6:7). Did you see that this is not to be wronged? When you insult, then you have been insulted; and to some extent the many know this, as when they say to one another: "Let us go from here, do not insult yourself." Why? Because there is a great distance between you and him; for whatever insults you may cast, he considers it glory. Let us think this regarding all things, and let us become higher than the insults. How, I say? If we have a fight with one who wears the purple, we count insulting him as insulting ourselves; for we consider ourselves worthy of being washed clean. What do you say, tell me? Being a citizen of the heavens, and possessing the philosophy from above, do you wash yourself with one who minds earthly things? For even if he possesses ten thousand riches, even if he is in power, he does not yet know your good. Do not insult yourself by insulting him; spare yourself, not him; honor yourself, not him. Is there not such a proverb, "He who honors, honors himself"? Deservedly; for he does not honor him, but himself. Hear a certain wise man saying: "Make honor for your soul according to its dignity" (Eccl. 10:31). According to its dignity, what is this? If it has been overreached, he says, do not overreach; if it has insulted, do not insult. Tell me, I beseech you, if some beggar took mire cast from your courtyard, would you have convened a court over this? By no means. Why? So that you may not insult yourself, so that you may not be condemned by all. This also happens now. For the rich man is a beggar, and the more he is wealthy, the more he becomes a beggar in true poverty. Money is but mire cast in a courtyard, not lying within your house; for your house is heaven. Will you then convene a court over this? And will not the citizens on high condemn you? Will they not cast you out of their fatherland, you who are so lowly, so contemptible, as to choose to fight over a little mire? For if the world were yours, and then someone took it, should you be distressed? Do you not know that if you put the inhabited world ten times, and a hundred times, and ten thousand times, and twice as much, it is not even the smallest part of the goods in the heavens? He, therefore, who admires the things here, has insulted those things, if indeed he considers them as worthy of concern as much as he falls short of those...

^A things. How, indeed, will anyone be able to admire those things if he is preoccupied with these? Let us cut the ropes and the nets—for earthly things are this. How long shall we stoop downwards? How long shall we lie in wait for one another, as wild beasts, as fish? Nay, rather, wild beasts do not lie in wait for their own kind, but for others: for instance, a bear does not easily kill a bear, nor a serpent a serpent, as being of the same kin. You, however, who have with your own kind ten thousand reasons for just behavior—namely, kinship, reason, the knowledge of God, and ten thousand other things, and have shared in the same nature—do you kill him and involve him in a thousand evils? For what if you do not thrust a sword, nor sink your right hand into his throat? You do things graver than these, afflicting him with perpetual sorrows. For if you had done that, you would have delivered him from cares; but now you cast him into a famine of slavery, into vexations and many sins. I say these things, and I will not cease saying them—not to prepare you for death, nor to urge you to cause less evil than that man, but because I want you not to trust as though you were not going to pay the penalty. For he says: "He who takes away his neighbor’s livelihood kills him" (Ecclus. 34:24). ^B Let us therefore hold back our hands; nay, rather, let us not hold them back, but let us extend them correctly, not to avarice, but to alms. Let us not have a barren hand, nor a withered one: for that which does not dispense alms is withered; that which strives for avarice and rapacity is detestable and impure. Let no one eat with such hands: for this is an insult to the guests. For tell me, if someone were to bid us recline on carpets and soft bedding and on sheets interwoven with gold in a splendid and large house, and were to bring in a great crowd of servants; and then were to prepare a table of silver and gold, full of various and exquisite foods, and compel us to eat—would we bear his hands, as he reclined, dirty with mud or human dung? Would not anyone consider this as a torture? Would not one take this as an insult? I, at least, think so, and that he would immediately depart. But now, you do not see the hands filled with mud, but the very food itself, and you do not recoil? You do not flee? You do not rebuke? But ^C if he is in a position of power, you consider it a great thing, and you destroy your own soul, while partaking of such foods? For avarice is worse than all mud: it defiles the soul, not the body, so that it can scarcely be washed. Since you see, therefore, this man reclining, defiled with mud in both his hands and his face, and the house and the table filled with it (for those foods are baser and more detestable than this impure dung); do you feel as though you have been honored, and as though you are about to enjoy delicacies? Nor do you fear Paul, who permits us to recline at the table of the heathen, if we wish, but does not grant it even to those who wish at the table of the avaricious? "If any man that is named a brother," he says, "be a fornicator" (1 Cor. 5:11)—calling every believer a brother here, not a monk. For what makes fraternity? The laver of regeneration, which enables us to call God Father. Therefore, he who is a monk, if he be a catechumen, is not a brother; but a believer, even if he be a secular person, is a brother. "If any man that is named a brother," he says. For there was not even a trace of a monk then, but this blessed man spoke to all regarding seculars. "If any man," he says, "that is named a brother be a fornicator, or a covetous person, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner: with such an one, do not so much as to eat." ^D But with the heathen not so; but, "If any of the infidels call you," meaning the heathen, "and you desire to go, eat everything that is set before you" (1 Cor. 10:27). "If any man that is named a brother," he says, "be a drunkard." Alas, what precision! We, however, not only do not flee from drunkards, but we approach them, and we share with them. Therefore, all things have been turned upside down, all things are confused, disturbed, and have perished. For tell me, if one of such men were to call you to a banquet, considering you poor and base, and then were to hear from you: "The filth served is born of avarice and rapine, and I will not suffer my soul to be defiled"—would he not be covered with shame? Would he not blush? This alone would have been enough to correct him, and to lead him to proclaim himself wretched because of his riches, and to admire you who are living in poverty, if he saw himself despised by you with such zeal. But I know not whence we have become slaves to men, while Paul is crying out here and there, "Do not become slaves to men" (1 Cor. 7:23). Whence, then, I ask you, have we become slaves? Because we were first slaves of the belly and of money and of glory and of all other things: we have betrayed the liberty which Christ bestowed upon us. What, then, tell me, awaits him who has become a slave? Hear Christ saying: "The slave does not abide in the house forever" (John 8:35). You have a definitive sentence, that he may never enter the kingdom: for this house is that one; for He says, "In my Father's house there are many mansions" (John 14:2). The slave, therefore, does not abide in the house forever: He calls him a slave who is a slave of sin. But he who does not abide in the house forever, abides in gehenna forever, having nowhere any consolation. But things have reached such wickedness, that they even give alms from these goods, and many accept them. Therefore our boldness has been cut away, and we cannot rebuke anyone. Yet, let us nevertheless at least now flee this damage, and you who wallow in this mire, cease from such destruction. For just as a dead body is not affected by any sensation, but is even troublesome to those approaching it; so also sin immediately strikes the rational part, and does not allow the mind itself to rest, but disturbs it. It is said, moreover, that a plague arises and decays bodies. Such also is sin; it differs nothing from a plague, not first decaying the air, and then the bodies, but immediately leaping into the soul. Do you not see those who labor under the pestilence, how they are swollen, how they are turned round, how they are full of stench, how they are base in appearance, how they are unclean? Such are those who sin, even if they do not see it. For tell me: is he not worse than every fevered person who is held by the love of money or of bodies? Is he not more impure than all these who shamelessly does and suffers all base things? For what is baser than a man blinded by the love of money? Whatever harlots, whatever stage-actresses do, he does not refuse to do; nay, it is more likely that they would refuse rather than he; and he sustains doing servile works, flattering those whom he does not even find worthy of this care, and from them he falls away, or rather, he is not even able to admire those things; for how can he, if he is taken by the admiration of these? Dissect the little ropes and nets: for earthly things are such. How long shall we turn ourselves downwards? How long shall we lie in wait for one another, as wild beasts, as fish? Nay, indeed, wild beasts do not lie in wait for one another, but for others: for example, a bear does not easily kill a bear, nor a serpent a serpent, as being of the same kin; but you, who have with your own kind countless reasons to act justly, namely kinship, the rational power, the knowledge of God, and countless other things, by nature finally the fortitude; you kill him, who is akin and a participator of the same nature, and involve him in a thousand evils? For what if you do not thrust a sword, nor sink your right hand into his throat? You do things heavier than these, afflicting him with perpetual sorrows. For, if you had done that, you would have set him free from cares; but now you cast him into a famine of slavery, into vexations and many sins. These things I say, nor will I make an end of speaking, not to afflict you with death, nor to urge you to withdraw less from evil than that man, but because I wish you not to be confident, as though you were not to pay the penalty: for he says, "He kills his neighbor, who takes away his food" (Ecclus. 34:24). Let us at length contain our hands; nay, rather, let us not contain them, but let us extend them correctly, not to avarice, but to alms. Let us not have a hand that is fruitless, nor withered: for that which does not dispense alms is withered; that which strives for avarice and rapacity is detestable and impure. Let no one eat with such hands: for this is an insult to the invited. For tell me, if someone were to bid us recline on carpets and on soft bedding and in sheets interwoven with gold in a splendid and great house, and were to bring in a great multitude of servants; and then were to have prepared a table of silver and gold, full of various and exquisite foods, and compel us to eat: would we bear his hands, as he reclined, defiled with mud, or with human dung? Would anyone not consider this as a torture? Would one not take this as an insult? I at least think so, and that he would immediately depart. But now, you do not see the hands filled with mud, but the very food itself, and you do not recoil? You do not flee? You do not rebuke? But, if he be in power, you consider it a great thing, and you destroy your own soul, while using such foods? For avarice is worse than all mud; for it defiles the soul, not the body, so that it can scarcely be washed. You therefore, seeing this man reclining, defiled with mud, and in his hands and face, and the house and the table filled with it (for these foods are more impure and more detestable than this foul dung); are you affected as though honored, and as though about to take delicacies? Nor do you fear Paul, who permits us to recline at the table of the heathen, if we wish, but does not grant it to those who will not have it at the table of the avaricious? "If any man that is named a brother," he says, "be a fornicator" (1 Cor. 5:11): calling every believer brother here, not monk. For what makes fraternity? The laver of regeneration, which allows us to call God father. Therefore, he who is a monk, if he be a catechumen, is not a brother; but a believer, even if he be a secular man, is a brother. If any man that is named a brother. For then there was not even a trace [of a monk, but he spoke to all as seculars].

^A And he who plays the flatterer to those he should not is everywhere inconsistent. He sits fawning upon wicked men and old men—often corrupt, and far poorer and more contemptible than himself—while he insults and behaves arrogantly toward others who are good and virtuous in every way. Do you see the unseemliness on both sides? Do you see the shamelessness? He is both humble beyond measure and arrogant.

But, you say, harlots stand in a brothel; and this is the crime, that they sell their body for the sake of money. But, you say, poverty and hunger compel them. Even if that be true, this is not enough for an apology, for it was possible for them to work and be fed. But here the covetous man stands, not in a brothel, but in the middle of the city; not selling his body, but betraying his soul to the devil, so that he is both joined with him and enters into him, just as one does with a harlot; and having fulfilled all his desire, he goes out; and the whole city sees it—not two or three men. And this also is a property of harlots, that they belong to the one who gives them gold; whether he be a slave, or a monk, or anyone at all, if he offers the payment, they admit him; but free men, even if they are more noble than all, they do not admit without silver. These men do the same thing here; when they have no silver, they turn away right reasonings; but they are joined to the defiled and those who are truly enemies of God for the sake of gold, and they are joined unseemly, and they lose the beauty of the soul. For just as those women are by nature ugly, black, unrefined, ill-formed, and poorly constructed, and shameful in every way; so, too, do the souls of these men become, unable to conceal their deformity even with outward cosmetics. For when there is extreme ugliness, whatever they may contrive, they cannot even pretend otherwise. For that it is shamelessness that makes harlots, hear the prophet saying: *Thou hast behaved shamelessly toward all; there was the face of a harlot unto thee* (Jer. 3:3). This can also be said to the covetous: Thou hast behaved shamelessly toward all; not toward this one and that one, but toward all. How? Such a man respects no one—neither father, nor son, nor wife, nor friend, nor brother, nor benefactor, nor anyone at all. And why do I say friend, brother, and father? He does not even respect God Himself, but everything seems to him a fable, and he laughs—drunk on great desire—and does not even receive into his hearing any of those things capable of benefiting him.

But O the absurdity, and what they speak! "Woe to you, Mammon, and to him who does not have you." Here I am distraught with anger; for "woe" to those who say these things, even if they say them in jest. For tell me, did not God threaten such a threat, saying: *You cannot serve two masters* (Matt. 6:24)? And do you loosen the threat? ^B Does not Paul say it is idolatry, and call the covetous man an idolater? And you stand laughing, like the secular women, mocking like those on the stage? This has overturned and cast down everything; our life has become laughter, and civility, and witticism; nothing is stable, nothing is grave. I do not say these things only to secular men, but I know whom I hint at; for the Church is filled with laughter; if someone says something witty, laughter immediately arises among those sitting there. And what is wonderful is that, at the very time of prayer, many do not cease from laughter. The devil dances everywhere, he puts on the guise of everything, he controls everything; Christ is insulted, and the Church is accounted as nothing.

Do you not hear Paul saying: *Filthiness and foolish talking and jesting, let it be taken away* (Ephes. 5:4)? He places jesting alongside filthiness, and you laugh? What is foolish talking? Things that have nothing useful in them. ^C And do you, the monk, the crucified one, the one who mourns, spread and relax your face? You laugh, tell me? Where did you hear that Christ did this? Nowhere; but [you hear] that He often expressed sorrow; for indeed, when He saw Jerusalem, He wept, and when He thought of the traitor, He was troubled, and when He was about to raise Lazarus, He wept; and you laugh? If he who does not grieve over the sins of others is worthy of accusation, of what forgiveness shall he be worthy who is insensate and laughs at his own? The time is one of mourning and tribulation, of buffetings and servitude, of struggles and sweat—and you laugh? Do you not see how the Sadducees were rebuked? Do you not hear Christ saying, *Woe unto you that laugh, for you shall weep* (Luc. 6:25)? You chant these things every day. For what do you say, tell me? That I laughed? By no means. But what? *I have labored in my sighing.* But perhaps some are so relaxed and soft that they even laugh at this rebuke, because, forsooth, we are discussing laughter. For such is wandering of mind, such is madness; it does not even perceive the rebuke. The priest of God stands offering the prayer of all, and you laugh without fearing anything? And he indeed offers prayers for you, and you show contempt? Do you not hear the Scripture saying, *Woe to the contemptuous*? Do you not shudder? Do you not compose yourself? And when you enter a palace, you adorn yourself in shape, and look, and gait, and all other things; but here, where these are truly the palaces, and such as are the heavenly ones, you laugh? I know indeed that you do not see; but hear that angels are present everywhere, and especially in the house of God they stand by the King, and everything is filled with those incorporeal Powers. This is my word also to the women, who do not dare to do this quickly before men; and even if they do, not always, but during the time of relaxation; but here [they do it] always. Do you cover, tell me, your head, and do you laugh, O woman, sitting in church? You came to confess your sins, to fall before God, to beseech and entreat for the things you have wrongly committed, and you do this with laughter? How then will you be able to propitiate Him?

And what evil is there in laughter, he says? Laughter is not an evil, but it is evil to be immoderate, to be out of season. Laughter is implanted in us so that, when we see friends after a long time, we may do this; when we see some who are struck down and afraid, we may relieve them with a smile, not so that we may guffaw and always be laughing; laughter is implanted in our soul so that the soul may be relaxed at times, not so that it may be dissipated—since desire for bodies is also implanted in us, and it is not at all a necessity that, because it is implanted, we must use it or not use it immoderately; but we also restrain it, and we do not say: "Because it is implanted, let us use it." Serve God with tears, that you may be able to wash away your sins. I know that many mock us, saying: "Tears again." For this reason it is the time for tears. I know that those who say, *Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die* (1 Cor. 15:32), also speak impiously. *Vanity of vanities, all is vanity* (Eccl. 1:2; 2:4; 5:5). I do not say this, but He Himself who had experience of all things...

taking these things, he says: “I built myself houses, I planted vineyards, I made myself pools of water, I made myself cupbearers and cup-bearers; and what after all these things? Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Let us mourn, therefore, beloved, let us mourn, so that we may truly laugh, so that we may truly be delighted in the time of sincere joy. For to this present joy, sorrow is always admixed, nor is it ever permitted to find it pure; but that ^B joy is sincere, without fallacy, having nothing deceitful, nor anything admixed: let us be delighted by that joy, and let us pursue it. Besides, we cannot attain it unless we choose here not things that are sweet, but things that are useful, and unless we are a little afflicted with hardships, and bear all things with thanksgiving. For thus shall we be able to attain the kingdom of the heavens, to which may we all be deemed worthy in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XLIV. On compunction, on patience, and on the desire for future goods; and on the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I beseech you, brethren, not only to render a judgment concerning the providence of God from present things, but also from things to come. For present things are the contest, the arena, the stadium; but future things are the prizes, the crowns, the rewards. Just as, therefore, it behooves the athlete in the arena, in sweat, in dust, in much heat, in labors and miseries, to struggle; so too it is fitting for the righteous here to endure much, and to bear all things generously, if indeed he is about to receive the splendid crowns there. Therefore Paul frequently moves the discourse for us concerning the resurrection, as you have heard him shouting and saying: “For we believe that He who raised up the Lord, will also raise us up with Jesus, and will set us with you.” Therefore “we do not lose heart” (2 Cor. iv. 13, 14, 16), he says, having the greatest consolation in our struggles, namely, the hope of future things. Nor did he say to them: Therefore do not lose heart; but what? Therefore we do not lose heart, showing that he is also always in the struggles. “But though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day” (Ibid. v. 16). How is it renewed? By hope, and faith, and alacrity of spirit, when we dare to attempt difficult things. For the more the body suffers, the better hope the soul has, and it is more splendid, just as gold committed to the fire has more worth. And see how he purges the things that are sorrowful in this life. “For our momentary and light affliction,” he says, “is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen” (Ibid. v. 17, 18), concluding the whole matter in hope. And as he said elsewhere: “For we were saved in this hope,” and, “But hope that is seen is not hope” (Rom. viii. 24): proving this also here, he sets the present against the future—the momentary for the eternal, the light for the heavy, tribulation for glory. Nor, content with these, does he add another expression, which doubles this, saying, “Far more exceeding.” Then he shows the measure, after he had said the light of such tribulations. How then light? “While we do not look at the things which are seen, ^C but the things which are not seen.” Thus light is that which is present, and great is that which is future, if we withdraw ourselves from that which is seen. For the things which are seen are temporal; therefore such are the hardships: but the things which are not seen are eternal; therefore also the crowns are eternal. Nor did he only say, Such are the tribulations, but also all visible things, whether it be punishment or rest, so that we may neither boast because of the former nor be submerged by the latter. Therefore concernimg the future he did not say, Eternal kingdom; but, “The things which are not seen are eternal,” whether it be kingdom or punishment; so that he may terrify from that, and exhort from this. Because therefore the things which are seen are temporal, and those which are not seen are eternal, let us look to those eternal things. For what excuse can we have, if we choose temporal things instead of eternal? For even if that which is present is sweet, yet it is not perpetual: yet that which is therein full of pain is perpetual, and obtains no pardon. For what excuse can those have, who, having been deemed worthy of the Holy Spirit and having received so great a gift, crawl upon the ground and fall to the earth? For I hear many saying these ridiculous words: “Give me the today and receive the tomorrow.” For if those things are such as you say, it was one for one; but if they are nothing, two for nothing are they. What is more iniquitous than these words? What more frivolous? We speak of the heavens and of those ineffable goods; and you bring into the middle the things that belong to the hippodrome, nor are you ashamed, nor do you blush, speaking such things as belong to those who are insane? Are you not ashamed to be so afflicted by present things? Will you not cease to be foolish and insane, and to be youthfully delirious? For that the Gentiles say these things is no wonder; but for faithful men to utter such things, what pardon can it have? Do you altogether hold that immortal hope in suspicion? Do you altogether think those things are doubtful? And how can those be worthy of pardon? But do you not see those things which are there? Nor do you perceive God; therefore do you think there is no God, because you do not see God? And I think you would very much say yes. If, therefore, anyone should ask you again, “Who came from heaven and announced these things?” what will you say? Where do you know that God is? From the things which are seen, you will say, from the good order existing in created things, and that this is manifest to all. Thus, therefore, receive also the discourse concerning judgment. How, you will say? I will ask you; do you answer me. Is God Himself just, and does He grant to everyone according to his merit; or to the contrary, does He want the iniquitous to live happily and to enjoy delicacies, and the good to be in the opposite? By no means, you will say; for not even a man would suffer this. Where, therefore, will those who have done good things here enjoy good things? Where will the wicked receive the opposite, unless there is a certain future life and retribution after these things? Do you see that one is not for one, and that they are not two for one; but rather that for the just there will be two for nothing; but for sinners and for those who have been here in delicacies, the opposite altogether? For those who have been in delicacies here, and afterwards will be punished there, have not received one for one; but those who have lived in virtue, two for nothing. Who are in rest? Those who have abused the present life, or those who have lived philosophically? You perhaps will say them; but I will ^D say...

^A show them, calling as witnesses those very persons who have enjoyed present things, and they will not be shameless toward what I am about to say. For indeed, many have often cursed the matchmaker, and the very day on which the bridal chambers were woven together, and have called those who have not married blessed: and many have refused [marriage] for no other reason than the burdensome nature of the thing. And I am saying these things not disparaging marriage—for it is honorable—but for the sake of those who use it badly. If those who have engaged in marriage have often considered life unlivable, what could we say about those who have been dragged down into the pits of fornication, and are in a condition more enslaved and miserable than any captive? Or about those who have rotted away in luxury, and have clothed their bodies with ten thousand diseases? But, [you say], it is pleasant to be in glory. There is nothing, however, more bitter than this slavery. For a lover of vainglory is more enslaved than any slave, and one who wishes to please those he happens to meet; but he who has trampled this underfoot is superior to all, and is alone free, he who does not care for glory from others. But, [you say], it is desirable to have money? But we have often shown that in greater wealth and rest are those who have been released from these things and have nothing at all. But, [you say], it is pleasant to be drunk? And who would say this? Therefore, not to be rich is pleasanter than to be rich, and not to marry than to marry, and not to be vainglorious than to be vainglorious, and not to live in luxury than to live in luxury; and in this matter, those who are not ^B attached to present things possess more. And I do not yet say: that one, even if he be stretched on ten thousand torments, has the good hope supporting him; but this one, even if he enjoys ten thousand luxuries, has the fear of the future disturbing and confounding his pleasure; for this too is no small mode of punishment, just as the opposite is [a mode] of luxury and rest. And there is a third mode after this. What is this, then? That the things of worldly luxury do not even appear as they are, being refuted by nature and by time; those others, however, not only have existence, but also remain immovable. See that we shall be able to reckon not only two for nothing, but three, and five, and ten, and ten thousand. But in order that you may learn this very thing by an example, pay attention: The rich man and Lazarus, the one enjoyed present things, the other future things; does it then seem to you to be one and the same to be punished throughout all time and to labor for a brief hour? To be ill in a corruptible body, and to be immortally roasted painfully? To be crowned and to live in luxury immortally after that minute sickness, and to be tortured endlessly after the brief enjoyment of present things? And who would say these are the same? For what do you wish us to say—the quantity? The quality? The vote concerning both according to the dignity of God? How long will you utter the words of beetles, who are constantly rolling in the mire? For this is not the way for rational men to throw away a soul so precious for nothing, when it is necessary to receive the heavens for a little labor. Do you wish that I teach you from elsewhere ^C that there is a judge there that is to be feared? Open the doors of your conscience, and see the judge sitting within your mind; if you condemn yourself, although being a lover of self, and would not endure to bring any but a just judgment, will not God much more take great care of justice, and bring an impartial vote concerning all, rather than let all things be carried simply and at random? And who would say these things? There is no one; but even Greeks and barbarians, and poets and philosophers, and every race of men agree with us in these things, even if not in the same way, and they say that there are certain tribunals in Hades; so manifest and confessed is the matter. And why, he says, are we not punished immediately here? In order that he may show forth his own long-suffering, and may grant us salvation from repentance, and may not treat our race as if it were snatched away, and may not snatch away from salvation those who are able to be saved from an excellent change. For if he immediately punished and destroyed [everyone] at the very point of their sins, how would Paul have been saved? Or Peter, the chief teachers of the inhabited world? How would David have harvested the salvation from repentance? How the Galatians? How many others? For these reasons, therefore, he does not demand justice of everyone here, but some out of all; nor does he of everyone there, but one here, another there, in order that he may both stir up the very senseless by those things in which he punishes, and make them expect future things by those in which he does not punish. Or do you not see many being punished here, like those who were buried ^D by the tower? Like those whose blood Pilate mingled with the sacrifices? Like those who died an untimely death among the Corinthians because they partook of the mysteries unworthily? Like the people of the Jews cut to pieces by the barbarians? Like many others both then and now continuously? And others have departed having sinned much without giving justice here, like the rich man in the case of Lazarus, and like many others. He does these things, both rousing those who do not believe in future things, and making those who do believe more eager, and making those who are slothful more diligent. For God is a just judge and powerful and long-suffering, and does not bring wrath upon us every day. But if we use his long-suffering for sloth, there will be a time when he will no longer be long-suffering even for a short while, but will immediately bring the judgment. Do not therefore, so that we may live in luxury for one moment (for this is the present life), draw upon ourselves the punishment of infinite ages, but let us labor for a moment, so that we may be crowned continuously. Do you not see that even in worldly matters most men do this, and choose the little labor for the sake of long rest, even if the opposite results for them? For here there is a struggle of both labors and gain, and often the opposite; but of the kingdom, it is the inverse: the painful is short, but the sweet and the infinite is great. Consider: the farmer labors through the whole year, and at the very end of his hope often loses the fruit of his many labors; the navigator, again, and the soldier [work] until the final age in wars and labors, and often each of them has departed empty, the one of the wealth of his cargoes, the other having fallen before the victory and life itself. What defense, then, shall we have, tell me, in choosing the painful things in worldly matters, in order that we might rest for a little, or not even for a little—for the hope is uncertain—and doing the opposite in spiritual matters, and drawing upon ourselves unspeakable punishment for a little sloth? Therefore I beseech all of you to bring me back, at least once, from this distraction. For no one will rescue us in that time; neither brother, nor father, nor children, nor friends, nor neighbor, nor anyone else. But if from our works we pro—

are betrayed, everything shall be cast away and we shall utterly perish. How much that rich man wept, and entreated the patriarch, and begged that Lazarus be sent! But hear what Abraham said to him: ^A *A great chaos between us and you, so that those who wish to pass cannot* (Luke 16:26). How much those virgins entreated the virgins of equal age for a little oil! But hear what they say: *Lest there not be enough for us and you* (Matt. 25:9); and no one was able to bring them into the bridal chamber. Reflecting on these things, let us also be anxious for our life. For however many labors you may name, and however many torments you may bring forward, all these things will be as nothing when compared with the goods to come. Suppose, if you will, fire, or iron, or wild beasts, or anything more painful than these; yet these are not even a shadow compared to those torments. For when these things are applied more vehemently, they are then most light, making a quick release, since the body is not sufficient for the vehemence and duration of the punishment; but there it is not so, both are concurrent, and there is both an increase and an excess in good things and in painful things. Since, therefore, it is the time, let us anticipate his face in confession, that we may see him then ^B gentle and serene, so that we may escape those threatening powers. Do you not see here the soldiers who serve the princes, how they drag, how they bind, how they scourge, how they tear the sides, how they bring the lamps to the tortures? But all these things are play and laughter if compared with those torments. For those punishments are temporary; but of those others, *their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched* (Mark 9:44): for the body that resurrects then will be altogether incorruptible. But may it never be that we learn this by experience, but may it be that we halt at those terrible words; and may we never be handed over to those tormentors, but be wise from this. How much shall we then say, accusing ourselves? How much shall we groan? How much shall we wail? But it will be of no use then. Since neither can sailors, once the ship is broken and sunk, reach any aid, nor can physicians after the patient has departed; but they will often say, "This and that ought to have been done"; but everything is in vain. For as long as hopes of correction remain, everything must be said and done; but when nothing is in our power, when the whole thing is lost, all things are said and done in vain. For the Jews also will say then, *Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord* (John 12:13); but they can derive nothing from this voice ^C to escape the punishment; for when it was necessary to say it, they did not. Lest we also suffer the same thing, let us be changed now, and let us hasten to enter into that rest, as the Apostle said. For truly that is rest, from which pain, sorrow, and sighing flee away; where there are neither cares, nor labors, nor contests, nor fear affrighting and agitating the soul, but only the fear of God, full of delight. Bread is not eaten there in the sweat of the brow, nor are there thorns and thistles, nor are children born in pain, nor *shall your conversion be to your husband, and he shall rule over you* (Gen. 3:16); but all is peace, joy, gladness, pleasure, goodness, meekness. There is no jealousy there, nor envy, no sickness, no death, none of these infirmities of the body or of the soul; there is no darkness there, no night; all is day, all is light, all is splendid. There is no need to labor there, no satiety, but we shall always dwell in the desire of good things. Do you wish that I give you some image of that rest? It is impossible; yet, as it is possible, I will attempt to put it before you. Let us look into the sky, when, with no cloud disturbing it, it shows its crown; then, when we have spent much time looking at its beauty, let us think that we shall have a pavement, not just such as that, but we shall see something as much more beautiful as a golden roof is more splendid than one of brick: and after that is another roof, the higher one; then the angels, the archangels, the ^D infinite throngs of incorporeal Powers, the very palace of God and the paternal throne. But, as I was saying, no speech can explain the whole thing; for experience is needed, and knowledge born of experience. How do you think, I ask, Adam was in paradise? That habitation will be far better, as much as heaven is distant from the earth. Furthermore, let us seek an image of other things. If it should happen that he who now reigns should rule the whole world, and neither be harassed thereafter by wars or anxieties, but only be honored and live with pleasure, have many tributes, and flow with gold on every side and be conspicuous: what sort of mind do you think he would have, if he saw that wars had ceased in all parts of the earth? Such a thing is that; nay, we have not yet reached that image for which others must be sought. Contemplate, however, with me: for just as a royal child, while he is in the womb, is affected by no sense; but if it happens that he emerges from there, and ascends the royal throne, he receives not gradually, but all things at once: so is that rest and this. Or if anyone, having been bound and suffered countless things, were suddenly snatched up onto a royal throne. But not even so have we accurately reached the image. For here, whatever good things someone has attained, even if you say the palace itself, on the first day he has a vigorous desire, likewise on the second, and the third; but as time goes on, he remains indeed in pleasure, but not as much: for whatever that may be, by custom it ceases. But there, it is not only not diminished, but even increased. For think how great it is for a soul that has gone thither, not to expect an end to those good things, nor a change, but an increase and a life having no end; liberated from every danger, every sorrow and anxiety, full of joy and countless gifts. For if, going out here into a field, where we see tents arranged of veils, and spears, and glittering bosses of shields, we remain amazed at the wondrous sight; if, however, it should happen that we see the king running in the midst with golden arms, we think we have everything: what do you think it will be when you see the eternal tabernacles of the saints fixed in heaven? For, he says, *they will receive you into the eternal tabernacles* (Luke 16:9); when you see each one shining more than the rays of the sun, not from bronze and iron, but from that glory, the brilliance of which the human eye cannot behold? And these things, indeed, regarding men. But what will you say of the thousands of angels, of the archangels, of the Cherubim, of the Seraphim, of the principalities, of the powers, whose beauty is beyond speech?

Can it be described? But how long shall I not cease from pursuing the unattainable? For, "Eye hath not seen," he says, "nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him" (1 Cor. 2. 9). What, then, is more blessed than those who attain that glory? What is more wretched than those who fail of it? For if any man cast out of his country is pitied by all, and he who has lost his inheritance is seen by all as pitiable, how many tears ought he to be bathed in who falls from heaven and from the goods laid up there? For a man weeps when he suffers some involuntary thing for which he himself is not to blame; but when he plunges himself into wickedness by his own will, he is worthy not of tears, but of lamentations, 758 or rather, even then, of mourning; since even our Lord Jesus Christ mourned and wept over Jerusalem, even though it was acting impiously. Truly, we are worthy of countless wailings and countless lamentations. If the whole world were to find a voice, and stones and wood and trees and wild beasts and birds and fishes were to wail for us who have fallen from those goods, they would not wail or lament according to what is deserved. For what speech will be able to set forth, what mind that blessedness, and that virtue, that glory, that joy, that splendor, "Which eye hath not seen, and ear hath not heard, and hath not entered into the heart of man" (Ibid.)? He did not say simply that it surpasses, but that no one has even conceived of "the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." For if God is the One who prepares and provides good things, what sort of things must they be? For if, when He created us, with nothing having been done by us beforehand, He bestowed so many things—paradise, communion with Himself, immortality, a blessed life and removed from cares—what will He not bestow upon those who have labored so much, and contended, and endured for His sake? He spared not His Only-Begotten for our sake; He gave the true Son unto death for us who were enemies; of what will He not deem us worthy now that we have become friends? What will He not share with us after having reconciled us to Himself? And He is rich beyond measure, and yearns and strives to attain our friendship, yet we do not strive so, beloved. And what do I say, we do not strive? We do not even wish to attain His good things as He Himself wishes. And that He desires it more than we do, what He has done has shown. For we, for our own selves, barely despise a little gold, but He even gave His own Son for us. Let us use the love of Christ to good purpose; let us enjoy His friendship. "For you are my friends," He says, "if you do what I command you" (John 15. 14). Marvelous! The enemies, those who were infinitely distant from Him, from whom He differs in every way by an incomparable superiority, these He has made friends, and calls them friends. What, then, is not worth enduring for the sake of this friendship? For the sake of human friendship, we often endanger ourselves; but for the sake of the love of Christ, shall we not spend money? Truly, our circumstances are worthy of mourning, worthy of mourning and wailing and great laments and smiting of the breast; we have fallen from our hope, we have been humbled from our height; we have appeared unworthy of the honor of God; we have become ungrateful after His benefits, and the devil has stripped us of all good things; we who were deemed worthy to be sons, brothers, and heirs, have become no different from His enemies who insult Him. What consolation will be ours hereafter? He called us to heaven, but we have thrust ourselves into hell. For lies and theft and adultery are poured out upon the earth; some mix blood upon blood, and others commit deeds worse than bloodshed. For many of those who are defrauded pray for a thousand deaths rather than to suffer these things; and if they did not fear the fear of God, they would even have made away with themselves, thus raging against themselves. Are these things, then, not worse than bloodshed? "Woe is me, my soul, for the godly man has perished from the earth, and he that uprightly performs his duty amongst men exists not" (Mich. 7. 2). Now let us also cry out first for ourselves. But join me in my lamentation. Perhaps some even taunt and laugh. For this reason the lamentation must be intensified, because we are so insane and delirious, and we do not even know that we are insane, but we laugh at things for which we ought to groan. "For the wrath of God is revealed, O man, upon all ungodliness and injustice of men" (Rom. 1. 18). God shall come manifestly; fire shall go before Him, and it shall inflame His enemies round about; fire shall be kindled in His presence, and round about Him a mighty tempest (Ps. 49. 3 and 96. 3). "The day of the Lord shall be like a burning furnace" (Mal. 4. 1). And no one takes these things to heart, but these awesome and fearful things are despised as fables; and no one listens, but all are laughing and mocking. What recourse is ours? From where shall we find salvation? We have perished, we have been consumed, we have become a laughingstock to our enemies, and a derision to the Greeks and the demons. 759 The devil is now haughty and prides himself and rejoices in our shame; all the angels who were entrusted with us are in dejection, there is no one who turns back, all things are wasted on us in vain, and we seem to you to be raving. It is an opportune time even now to call upon heaven, since there is no one who listens, to witness the elements: "Hear, O heaven, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord has spoken" (Isai. 1. 2). Stretch out a hand, you who have never been drowned, to those who have perished through drunkenness; you who are healthy, to the sick; you who are sober, to the mad; you who are diligent and steadfast, to those who are carried away. Let no one, I beg, prefer for the sake of the salvation of a friend; and let him look only toward one thing in abuse and reproof, his own benefit. When a fever takes hold, even slaves govern their masters. For when that fever burns and confuses the soul, and a swarm of servants stands by, he does not recognize the master’s law in the harm of the master. Let us gather ourselves together, I beg. Daily warfare, shipwrecks, countless losses are around us, and on every side the wrath of God encompasses us. And we, as if things were pleasant, are in such security; all prepare their hands for greed, no one for help; all for plunder, no one for protection; each strives to make his possessions greater, but no one to help him who is in need; each has much care how he may add to his money, but no one how he may save his soul. One fear holds all: "Lest we become poor," they say; but that we might fall into hell, no one is anxious and trembling. These things are worthy of lamentations, these are worthy of reproach. But I did not wish to say these things, but I am forced by the pain. Therefore, forgive me; for by the grief I am compelled to say many things that I do not wish to speak. I see the wound as severe, the calamity as inconsolable, the evils that have overtaken us as greater than any consolation; we have perished. Who will give to my head

I see a blow, a consolation-repelling calamity; the evils that have invaded us are greater than any consolation: we are undone. "Who will give to my head water, and to my eyes a fountain of tears?" ^A (Jer. 9. 1). Let us weep, beloved, let us weep, let us groan. Perhaps there are those here who say, "You are always telling us of laments, always of tears." I would not, believe me, I would not; but to bring forth encomia and praises—now is the time for weeping. Believe me, beloved, it is grievous, but to do things worthy of weeping; one should not avoid lamentation, but rather do deeds worthy of lamentation. "Do not be punished," you say, "and I will not weep; do not die, and I will not cry." But if you are in bodily pain, you call upon all to condole with you; and you think those who do not condole are merciless, yet, when the soul is perishing, you say it is not to be lamented? But I cannot: for I am a father, and a father loving his children. Hear what Paul cries out: "My little children, of whom I travail in birth again" ^B (Gal. 4. 19). For what mother in labor emits such grievous voices as he? Would that it were possible now to see the pyre of his soul, and you would see me burned more by pain than any young woman who suffers an untimely widowhood. Not so does she mourn her husband, nor a father his son, as I do this multitude of ours. For I see no progress; all are turned to slanders and accusations; no one has a care for pleasing God, but, "This man and that man," they say, "let us speak evil of; he is unworthy of the clergy, he does not live honestly." When we ought to be looking to our own affairs, we condemn others: and this we should not do, even if we were pure from sins. "For who makes you differ?" he says, "What do you have that you have not received? But if you have received it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?" ^C (I Cor. 4. 7). Why do you judge your brother, you who are full of ten thousand evils? When you say, "This man is a profligate, a destroyer, a wicked man," consider yourself, and ^D examine your own life diligently, and do penance for the things you have said. For there is not, there is not such an exhortation to virtue as the remembrance of sins. If we were to turn both these things over among ourselves, we would be able to attain the promised goods, we would be able to cleanse and purify ourselves; let us only keep it in mind, let us be concerned about the matter, beloved: let us grieve here in our minds, that we might not grieve there from punishment, but enjoy the eternal goods there, whence pain, sadness, and groaning have fled away, that we may attain the goods that surpass the human mind, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and for ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY XLV. That the dead are not to be bewailed so vehemently.

Let us not bitterly lament those who are dead and those who have departed from here, beloved, but rather let us mourn and weep for those who have ended their lives in wickedness. For a farmer, as long as he sees his grain growing, does not weep; he fears and trembles while he sees it remaining firm in the ground, but when he sees it dissolved, he rejoices: for that dissolution is the beginning of the future sowing. So let us, too, rejoice when the corruptible house has fallen, when the human being has been sown. And do not marvel if he called burial a sowing: for this sowing is better. For the former is succeeded by deaths, labors, dangers, and anxieties; but this one, if we have lived rightly, by crowns and prizes: the former by corruption and death, the latter by incorruption, immortality, and countless goods. In that station, when the grain is covered, there are pleasures and sleep; in this one, only a voice descending from heaven, and all things are brought to a close together: and he who rises is no longer brought into a laborious life, but into that one whence pain, sadness, and groaning have fled. But if you are looking for a patron, and therefore weep for a man, take refuge in the common patron of all, the savior and benefactor, God, to an unassailable fellow-combatant, to an easy aid, and a covering sufficient and everywhere present, and fortifying us on every side. But custom is desirable and lovable. I know this, too; but if you unfold that evil with reasoning, and consider who has taken him, and that, if you bear it generously, you offer your will to God as a sacrifice, you will be able to pass through this wave; and what time does not accomplish, this philosophy will accomplish: but if you grow soft, the evil will indeed cease with time, but it will bring you no reward. After these reasonings, gather also examples, both those in the present life and those recorded in the divine Scriptures: consider that Abraham sacrificed his own son, and neither wept, nor uttered a bitter word. "But he," you will say, "was Abraham." But you have been called to greater contests, and Job did indeed mourn, but only as much as it was fitting for a father to mourn who loved his offspring, and who had much care for those who had departed. But these things that we do now are the deeds of enemies and foes. For if, when someone was taken into the palace and crowned, you were to macerate him and weep, I would not call you a friend of the crowned one, but a very great enemy and foe. "But now," you will say, "I do not weep for him, but for myself." But not even this belongs to one who loves, that you should want him to be still in the contest for your own sake, and subject to the uncertainty of the future, when he is crowned in the present; or to be tossed on the sea, when it is permitted to land and be in port. "But I do not know where he has gone," you will say. Why do you not know, tell me? For whether he lived rightly or otherwise, it is manifest where he is to go. "For that very reason," you will say, "I macerate myself, because a sinner has departed." These are pretexts. For if you were therefore mourning the deceased, you ought to have amended him while he was alive, and composed his morals: but you are always looking at your own affairs, not his. But if he departed a sinner, we ought to rejoice that his sins have been cut off, and that he has added nothing to his wickedness, and to aid him, if possible, not by weeping, but by prayers, supplications, alms, and offerings. For not without cause were these things thought of, nor in vain do we make mention of those who have departed in the divine mysteries, and approach on their behalf praying to the Lamb who lies there, who takes away the sin of the world, but that some comfort might come to them from this: nor does he who stands at the altar while the awesome mysteries are being celebrated cry out in vain: "For all who have fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who make commemoration for them." For if prayers were not made for them, neither would these things have been said. For there is not a tent of ours—far be it—but it is by the command of the Spirit that these things come to be. Let us aid them, and let us make commemoration for them. For if he purified the children of Job from their father

s sacrifice, why do you doubt that when we also offer in behalf of the departed, some consolation comes to them? For God is accustomed to grant favors to others in behalf of others; and this too Paul showed, saying: *That by many persons the gift granted to us might be thanked by many for our sake* (2 Cor. 1:11). Let us not, therefore, grow weary in bringing aid to those who have departed, and in offering prayers for them. For the common propitiation of the world lies prepared. Therefore, we pray confidently for the world, and we call upon them together with the martyrs, with the confessors, with the priests. ^A For we are all one body, even if some members are more brilliant than others; and it is possible to gather pardon for them from every source, from the prayers, from the gifts offered for them, from those who are called upon with them. Why then do you grieve, why do you lament, when it is possible to gather such great pardon for the departed? Is it because you have become destitute, and have lost a protector? Never say this; for you have not lost God. So, as long as you have Him, He Himself will be to you greater than father, than child, than relative. For even when those were living, He was the One who did all things. Think of this, therefore, and say with David: *The Lord is my illumination and my savior, whom shall I fear?* (Ps. 26:1). Say, "You are the Father of orphans, and the Judge of widows," and draw to yourself His help, and you will have Him caring for you now even more than before, since you have been placed in greater difficulty. But have you lost a child? Do not say you have lost: the thing is sleep, not death; it is a transition, not a destruction; a migration from lesser things to better. ^B Do not therefore irritate God, but make Him propitious. For if you bear it nobly, there will be some consolation both from this to the departed and to yourself; but if you do the opposite, you stir up the wrath of God all the more. For if, when a child has been whipped by the master, you, standing by, were annoyed, you would have irritated the master all the more against yourself. Do not do this, but give thanks, so that by this act the cloud of your despondency may be scattered. Say with that blessed man: *The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away* (Job 1:21): consider how many, giving thanks more than you, did not even receive children, nor were they called fathers. For not even I, he says, wished; for it were better not to have had the experience, than after tasting the pleasure to fall away. Do not, I beg you, do not say these things, do not by this also irritate the Master, but for those you received, give thanks, and for those you do not have to the end, glorify Him. Job did not say that it were better not to have received—this, which you say ungratefully—but even for those he gave thanks, saying: *The Lord gave*; ^C and for these he blessed, saying: *The Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be blessed forever*. And did he in this way muzzle his wife, arguing with her and speaking those marvelous words: *If we have received good things from the hand of the Lord, shall we not endure the bad?* (Job 2:10). And yet the trial became more grievous after these things; but he did not even then succumb, but likewise bore it nobly and glorified Him. Do this yourself, and reason with yourself that a man did not take them, but God who made them, who cares for you more than yourself, and knows what is beneficial, not some enemy or plotter. See how many living people have made their life unrewarded for their parents. But do you not see the noble ones? I see them, but even more secure than those are the circumstances of your child (in your case, or rather for the child's sake). For even if they are in high repute, yet their ends are in uncertainty; but for the child, you do not fear nor tremble at all, lest he suffer something, or undergo any change. Think of these things also regarding a wife who is good and a keeper of the home, and give thanks to God for everything; and even if you have lost a wife, glorify Him; perhaps God wishes to lead you to temperance, and is calling you to greater contests, and wished to deliver you from the bond. Tell me, if while we were seated, the king sent someone to call us to the palace, should we have to weep and lament, tell me? Angels are present, sent from the heavens, and coming from there, having been sent by the King Himself to call their fellow servant, and you weep, tell me? Do you not know what kind of mystery is taking place? How truly awesome and fearful and worthy of hymns and praises? Do you wish to learn, so that you may know that it is not a time for tears? For it is a very great mystery of God's wisdom. As if from a house, the soul departing goes forward, hastening to its own Master; and you lament? ^D Therefore, when a child is born, one should do this; for this is speed, and that is far better; for he goes forward to another light, he is released as if from a prison, as if from a contest he goes out. Yes, he says; in the case of those of good repute, you say these things well. What then to you, man, that you do not do this even in the case of those of good repute? For tell me, what could you have to condemn in the little child? Why do you lament him? Why [the lament] for the newly-baptized? For he too has arrived at the same state. Why do you lament, tell me? For just as the sun rises pure, so also the soul, leaving the body, shines bright with a clear conscience. It is not possible to see a king entering a city with such silence as a soul leaving the body and going forward with angels. Consider what the soul is, in what amazement it is then, in what wonder, in what pleasure. Why do you lament, tell me? But do you do this only in the case of sinners? Would that this were the case, and the lamentations would not be hindered; would that such were the purpose; this lamentation is apostolic, this lamentation is of the Master; for Jesus also wept for Jerusalem. I would have wished for lamentations to be divided by this law; but when you speak words of calling back, and habit, and protection, you do not lament for this reason, but you ponder. Lament, groan for the sinner; and I will bring down tears, and I, more than you, inasmuch as such a one is liable to a greater punishment; I will lament with such a purpose. But it is not only you who should lament such a one, but also the whole city and those who meet him, just like those being led to death. For truly this death is evil, that of sinners. But things above have been turned upside down. This lamentation is of philosophy, and has much instruction, but that one is of faint-heartedness. If we all lamented this lamentation, we would have corrected the living. For just as, if you were able to bring medicines that prevent that bodily death, you would have done so; so also now, if you lamented this death, you would have prevented this from happening to both yourself and to him. But now, it is an enigma what is happening, that being masters, one does not permit this to happen, but allows it to occur, and when it has happened, laments. Truly they are worthy of laments, when they stand before the judgment seat of Christ, what kind of words will they hear? What kind of things will they suffer? In vain did they live; or rather not in vain, but even for evil. And in the case of these, it is timely to say: *It were beneficial for them if they had not been born*. For what profit, tell me,

^A is it to squander so much time to the detriment of one’s own head? For if they had spent it in vain only, would not that have been injury enough? Tell me: if some laborer worked for twenty years in vain, would he not weep and lament, and think himself the most miserable of all? Here, one has labored in vain throughout his whole life, and has not lived for himself for even one day, but for luxury, for lust, for greed, for sin, for the devil; such a one, I pray you, shall we not mourn? Shall we not attempt to rescue him from dangers? It is possible, it is possible indeed, if only we be willing, for his punishment to be eased. Let us send up frequent prayers for him, let us give alms; even if he be unworthy, God will be entreated by us. For if Paul took pity on another, and spared one for the sake of others, much more does it behoove us to do this. From his riches, from your own, from wherever you wish, lend aid: pour on oil, or rather, water. Is he unable to distribute alms of his own? Let them be offered at least by his kinsfolk. Is he unable to perform them himself? Let them be given at least for his sake, so that his wife may then pray for him with confidence, paying the price of redemption for him. By how many more sins he was held liable, by that much more he has need of alms; not only for this reason, but because he has no longer the power now, but much less. For it is not an equal matter for a man to do something himself, and for another to do it for him. Since, therefore, he is now smaller, let us make the alms greater in quantity. Let us not busy ourselves with monuments, ^B nor with the magnificence of the burial; these are indeed for the funeral. Encircle him with widows, mention the name of the departed, command all to offer prayers and supplications for him: this will appease God. Even if this be not done by him, but another is the cause of alms on his behalf, this too is of God’s clemency. Widows standing by and weeping are accustomed to rescue one not only from present, but also from future death. Many have gained from alms that had been performed by others; for even if they were not altogether freed, yet they found some solace. If this were not so, how would little children be saved? Although they contribute nothing themselves, yet their parents do everything. And often children are forgiven for their parents’ sake, contributing nothing themselves. God gives us many ways of being saved, only let us not be negligent. "What then," you will say, "if he be a pauper?" I say again: the greatness of alms is not estimated by the gift alone, but also by the intent; only do not give less than your means afford, and you have paid fully. "What then," you will say, "if he be abandoned and a stranger, and has no one?" Why does he have no one, tell me? You shall give account for the fact that you have no friend so endowed with virtue. This, therefore, happens, so that, even if we ourselves are not endowed with virtue, we may study to have such friends—a wife, a son, a friend—so as to receive some fruit through them, small though it be, yet still some. If you strive to take for yourself not a rich, but a pious wife, you will enjoy this consolation; if you strive to leave not a rich son, but a pious one, and a virtuous daughter, you will enjoy this consolation, too. ^C If you have care for this matter, you yourself shall be such a one. This too is a part of virtue, to choose such friends, a wife and children. Not in vain are oblations made for the departed, not in vain are supplications, not in vain are alms; all these the Spirit has commanded, wishing us to help one another. See: he is helped by you, you are helped for his sake. Have you despised riches, striving to do a noble deed? You were the cause of salvation to him, and he to you the cause of alms. Do not doubt that he will receive some fruit: neither does the deacon cry out in vain: "For those who have fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who have made commemorations for them." It is not the deacon who utters such a voice, but the Holy Spirit—the charism, I say. What do you say? The sacrifice is in our hands, and all stands prepared; angels are present, archangels are present, the Son of God is present; all are present with such fear: they stand there crying out, with all else silent, and do you think that the things said are done in vain? Therefore, are the other things also in vain, both what is offered for the Church, and what for the priests, and what for the fullness? Far be it; but everything is done with faith. What do you think is offered for the martyrs? That they are named in that hour? Though they be martyrs, though they be more than martyrs, it is a great honor to be named with the Lord present, while such a memorial is being performed, and the fearful sacrifice is being offered, and the ineffable mysteries are being celebrated. For just as when a king is sitting, anyone obtains whatever he wishes; but after the king has risen, if he says anything, he says it in vain: so also then: as long as the mysteries stand present, ^D for all it is the greatest honor that they are deemed worthy of mention. For see: that fearful mystery is then announced, that God gave Himself for the world; after that wonder, fitting mention is made of those who have sinned. For just as when the victory of a king is celebrated, those who were partakers of the victory are proclaimed, but those who were in chains are released on account of the celebration of the time; but when this time has passed, he who has obtained nothing, obtains nothing further: so also here is it accomplished: this is the time for celebrating the victory. "For as often," he says, "as you eat this bread, you proclaim the Lord's death" (1 Cor. 11:26). Let us not approach in just any way, nor think that these things are done perfunctorily. Otherwise, we commemorate the martyrs, and this is for the faith, that the Lord has died: and this is the sign that death itself is dead, that He Himself has died. Knowing these things, let us consider what consolations we can give the departed; instead of tears, instead of laments, instead of memorials, let us give alms, prayers, oblations, that both they and we may attain the promised good things, by the grace and lovingkindness of the only-begotten Son, with whom to the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory, dominion, honor, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.

Homily XLVI. That although we are liable for all sins, we can be saved through confession; and that each of us among the faithful has a guardian angel; and concerning priests. ^A

The human race, beloved, is such that some are punished both here and there, others only here, others only there, and others neither here nor there. They are punished both here and there as the crucifiers of Christ; for they paid the penalty here when they suffered those unspeakable things at the capture of the city, and they shall undergo a most grievous one there, just like the citizens of Sodom and many others. ^B They are punished only there, as the rich man who is being roasted and who is not master of even a drop of water. They are punished here only, as the man who committed fornication among the Corinthians. But they are punished neither here nor there, as the apostles, as the prophets, as blessed Job; for what they suffered was not punishment, but a struggle and a contest. Let us therefore strive to be of their number, or if not of them, at least of those who cast off their sins here. For that judgment seat is terrible, the punishment is inexorable, and the torment is irremediable. But if you wish not to pay the penalty here, judge yourself, demand your own accounts; ^C hear Paul saying: *For if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged (1 Cor. 11:31).* If you do this, proceeding on your way, you will also attain the crown. And how, you say, shall we demand an account of ourselves? Mourn, groan bitterly, humble yourself, afflict yourself, call your sins to mind by type; this is no small torment for the soul. If anyone has been in compunction, he knows that the soul is chastised chiefly by this; if anyone has been in the remembrance of sin, he knows the pain that comes from it. Therefore, God sets justice as a reward for such repentance, saying: *Tell your sins first, that you may be justified (Is. 43:26).* For it is no small task for correction to gather together all one's sins and ^D revolve and analyze them constantly by type. For he who does this will be so struck with compunction that he will think himself unworthy even to live; and he who thinks this will be softer than any wax. Do not speak to me only of fornication, nor only of these manifest evils, but you must gather together the secret plots, the calumnies, the slanders, the vainglory, the envy, and all such things; for these too will bring no slight punishment. For the slanderer shall fall into hell, and he who is drunk has nothing in common with the kingdom, and he who does not love his neighbor so provokes God that he is not helped even while he is a martyr, and he who does not care for his own household has denied the faith, and he who disregards the poor is sent into the fire. Do not, therefore, think these things are small, but gather them all up, and write them down as in a book.

Homily XLVI.

HOMILY XLVII. Quod non indigne accedendum sit ad divina mysteria.

^AConsider that you are warring against the members of Christ, and put an end to this madness. For what if he is cast aside? What if he is vile? What if he is to be despised? "There is not, He says, "a will before my Father who is in heaven, so that one of these little ones should perish" (Matth. XVIII, 14); and again, "Their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven" (Matth. XVIII, 10). God became a servant and was slain for his sake and yours; yet you think he is nothing? Are you not, therefore, fighting against God in this, by bringing calculations contrary to His? When the president of the Church enters, he straightway says, "Peace be to you"; when he converses, "Peace to all"; when the sacrifice is accomplished, "Peace to all"; and in the meantime, again, "Grace to you and peace." How then would it not be absurd, if, hearing so often that we must have peace, we fight against one another? When we have received and given peace, are we warring with Him who gave peace? You say, "And with your spirit," and yet you slander him on the outside? Woe is me, that the things which are more honorable in the Church are things that are merely external, not the truth! Woe is me, that the symbols of this army stand in words only! Whence you are ignorant even why it is said, "Peace to all." But listen to the things that follow. What says Christ? "Into whatever city or town you shall enter, entering into the house, salute it; and if indeed that house be worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it be not worthy, let your peace return to you" (Matth. X, 12, 13). We do not know this because we think this is but a form of words, and we do not store it away in our minds. Do I give peace? Christ deigns to speak through us. Even if we were empty of grace for all other time, yet we are not now, for your sake. For ^B if grace operated through the donkey and the prophet for the utility of the Israelites, it is clear that it does not refuse to operate in us, but will grant it for your sake. Let no one therefore say that I am vile and humble and worthy of no esteem, and thus attend to me: I am indeed such as that; but yet God is accustomed to attend to those who are such for the sake of the many. And that you may learn this, He deigned to speak to Cain for the sake of Abel, to the devil for the sake of Job, to Pharaoh for the sake of Joseph, to Nebuchadnezzar for the sake of Daniel, to Belshazzar for the sake of the same. And the Magi were deemed worthy of revelation, and Caiaphas, a Christ-killer and unworthy, prophesied on account of the dignity of the priesthood. It is said also that Aaron for this reason was not struck with leprosy. For why, I ask, when both had spoken evil, did the sister alone suffer punishment? Do not wonder. For if in external dignities, even if someone is accused of countless things, he is not led to the tribunal before he has put aside his magistracy, so that the magistracy is not insulted together with the accused: much more in a spiritual magistracy, whoever he may be, the grace of God works in him; otherwise all would perish: but when he has put it aside, whether departing or here remaining, then he will give more severe punishments. But do not think these things are said by me: it is the grace of God which works in the unworthy, not for our sake, but for your sake. Hear therefore what Christ says: "If the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it." How then does it become worthy? "If they receive you," He says. "If however they do not receive you, nor hear your words, amen I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city" (Matth. X, 13-15). What use is it therefore that you receive us if you do not hear the things we say? What is the profit if you serve and do not attend to what is said? That is honor to us; that is the wonderful ministry, which should be useful both to you and to us, if you hear us. Hear Paul saying, "I knew not, brethren, that he was the high priest" (Act. XXIII, 5). Hear also Christ saying, "All things whatsoever they shall say to you to keep, keep and do" (Matth. XXIII, 5). You do not despise me, but the priesthood: ^C if you see me stripped of that, then despise me; then I myself would not wish to command: but as long as we sit on this throne, as long as we have this manner of presiding, we have both dignity and power, even if we are unworthy. If the throne of Moses was so venerable that it was heard on account of it, much more the throne of Christ. We have received it, from Him we speak, from whom Christ has imposed upon us the ministry of reconciliation. Ambassadors, whoever they may be, enjoy much honor on account of the dignity of the embassy. For see; they come alone into the middle of the land of the barbarians among so many enemies; and because the law of the embassy has much power, all honor them, all look upon them, all send them forth with safety. And we therefore have received the office of the embassy, and we have come from God; for this is the dignity of the episcopate; we have come to you fulfilling an embassy, asking to dissolve the war, and we say under what conditions; not promising cities, not measures of grain, so many or so many, not slaves, not gold, but the kingdom of heaven, eternal life, consortium with Christ, other goods, which we cannot even tell, as long as we are in the flesh and in the present life. We fulfill an embassy therefore, and we wish to enjoy honor; not for our sake, let it be far from us; for we know our own vileness; but for your sake, that you may attentively hear the things we say, that you may procure utility, that you may not with sloth and without attention retain what is spoken. Do you not see how ambassadors are honored by all? We are ambassadors from God to men. But if this seems hard and difficult to you, it is not we, but the episcopate; not this or that one, but the bishop. Let no one look at me, but at the dignity itself. Let us therefore do all things according to the pleasure of God, that we may live to the glory of God, and be deemed worthy of the goods promised to those who love Him, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and empire into the ages of ages. Amen.

Since we have made mention of this sacrifice, I wish to say a few things to you who are initiated; they are indeed a small measure, but they have great power and utility; ^D not to you, O initiated, I wish to say small things, (but) to those having the small measure, but possessing great power

^A of the divine Spirit. What then is this? Many partake of this sacrifice once in the [present] year, others twice, others many times. To all, therefore, does our word apply, even to those sitting in the desert; for they partake once a year, and often even once in two years. What then? Whom shall we approve? Not those who partake once, nor those who partake many times, but those who partake with a pure conscience, with a pure heart, with an unblemished life. Let such always approach; but those who are not such, not even once. For he who eats and drinks unworthily, eats and drinks judgment to himself, as the Apostle says. ^B These things are given to the saints; this the deacon also proclaims, calling the holy ones through that fearful voice. For since it is not possible for a man to know the things of his neighbor, except for the Spirit that is in him, he lets out that very voice, "The holy things for the holy." If anyone is not holy, let him not approach. He does not simply say, "pure from sins," but "holy"; for it is not only the removal of sins that makes one holy, but also the presence of the Spirit, and the wealth of good works. What is the sin? Not to approach with fear, but to strike the breast, and to make a clamor, and the rest. I have often said these things, and I will not cease saying them. ^C Do you not see in the Olympic games, when the judge is present, how the good order of the herald crying out produces silence? How is it not absurd, that where the devil is parading, there is much silence, but where Christ invites to Himself, there is much clamor? Rather, in the sea there is calm, and in the harbor there are waves. Why are you troubled, tell me? The necessity of affairs calls you completely. For do you know at all that you have affairs at that hour? And do you remember at all that you are on earth? And how is it not the mark of a stony mind to think that at that time one is on earth, and not dancing with the angels, with whom you have sent up that mystical hymn to God, the victory song, "Holy, holy, holy"? ^D For this reason Christ called us eagles, saying, "Where the corpse is, there are also the eagles," (Luc. 17:37), so that we might sky-walk, that we might fly on high, being lightened by the wings of the Spirit; but we, like serpents, crawl on the ground and eat earth. Do you wish me to say whence the tumult arises? Because we do not close the doors to you throughout the whole time, but allow you to depart before the final thanksgiving: this is a sign of great disdain. What are you doing, O man? With Christ present, with the angels standing nearby, with the table set before you, do you yourself abandon it and depart? And if you were invited to a banquet, do you not dare to depart before your friends? Do you wish me to say whose work they are doing who depart before the thanksgiving? When Judas partook of the final supper on that last night, while all the others were reclining, he himself ran out and departed. Such as these imitate him. For if he had not gone out, he would not have become a traitor, he would not have perished; if he had not separated himself from the shepherd, he would not have become prey to beasts. Do you see that the final prayer after the sacrifice is made according to that pattern? For he went out with the Jews; these went out with the Master after having sung a hymn. I say these things not that you may be in a tumult and cry out, but that with much silence and good order we may perform this sacred [sacrifice], that we may both purify the soul and attain to eternal goods. Do not heed that it is bread and wine that is present; for it is the Body and Blood according to the Master's decree; do not judge the matter by the taste, but be persuaded by faith without doubt. Drawing near, do not make your hands extended, but make the left a throne for the right, and hollowing the palm, as one about to receive a King, receive the Body of Christ with much fear, so that no pearl may fall from your hand, and you be damaged in one of your members. ^A Likewise approach also the holy Blood, not extending your hands, saying "Amen." And while the moisture is still on your lips, touch your eyes and forehead with your hands; and the rest of the senses are sanctified; and give thanks to God who has deemed you worthy of such a mystery. And how, he says, is it possible to be saved in the midst of the world? What are you saying? Do you wish me to show you briefly that it is not the place that saves, but the manner and the disposition towards God? Adam being in paradise, as in a harbor, suffered shipwreck; but Lot in Sodom, as it were in the open sea, was saved. Job was justified on the dunghill; but Saul, being in the chambers of the palace, fell from the glory and honor here and yonder. This is no defense, but we suffer these things from not having leisure in prayers and divine assemblies. Or do you not see those who wish to receive honors from the earthly king, how they wait, and move others to intercession, so that they may not fall short of what they seek? These things I have said to those who absent themselves from the holy assemblies, and to those who occupy themselves with conversation and vain words during the fearful hour of the mystical act. What are you doing, O man? Did you not promise the priest when he said, "Lift up the mind and the hearts," and you said, "We have them unto the Lord"? Do you not feel shame and blush to be found a liar at these words and this hour? Alas, with the royal table prepared, with the Lamb of God being slaughtered for you, with the priest struggling for you, with the Seraphim standing by, with the six-winged ones covering their faces, with all of the bodiless powers interceding with the priest for you, with the spiritual fire descending, with the blood being poured into the chalice from the immaculate side, does not even your conscience condemn you, O man? With the week having one hundred and sixty-eight hours, God has set apart one and only one hour; and if you consume even that in worldly affairs and conversations and ridiculous things, with what boldness then do you approach the divine mysteries, with what conscience? If you had filth in your hands, would you dare to draw near to the hem of the king? By no means. Do not look upon it as if it were bread, nor as if it were wine; for it does not go into the drain like other common foods; perish the thought, do not think anything of the kind. Therefore, even when approaching, let us think not as from men, but as from the Seraphim themselves with the tongs of fire, which Isaiah saw, we are partaking of the divine body. I beg and exhort that we be not absent from the churches; but when assembled, let us not occupy ourselves with conversations in the church, but let us stand fearful and trembling, casting the eye downward, having the soul upward, and let us groan with the heart. Or do you not see those who attend upon a corruptible and temporal king, how they are motionless, and not talking, nor do they look around, but are downcast, modest, and fearful? From yourself, O man, receive correction,

and even as we approach a terrestrial king, let us approach the heavenly God. I say these things often, nor do I cease. Entering into the churches, as is becoming to God, let us enter not revolving the memory of injuries in our minds, lest, when we say, "Forgive us as we also forgive" (Matt. 6:12), we be condemned. For it is a fearful thing that we say, and he who says this cries almost to God: "I have forgiven, Master, forgive; I have granted, grant." Since, therefore, we know these things, and that fire, and that fearful tribunal, let us finally turn ourselves from the error of our life. For the day will come when the theater of life shall be dissolved, and no one will struggle any longer. This is the time of repentance, that of judgment; this of struggles, that of crowns. Be excited, I beseech you, and hear the things said diligently. We have lived for the flesh, let us live from now on for the Spirit; we have lived with negligence, let us live in repentance. Why are you puffed up, O man, earth and ash? Why are you proud, why do you think magnificently? Why do you hope from the glory of the world and riches? Let us go out to the tombs, I pray; let us see the mysteries that are there; let us see nature dispersed, bones consumed, consider bodies stinking; even if you are wise, even if you are prudent, tell me, who is the king there, who the private citizen; who the noble, who the slave; who the wise, who the ignorant. Where is the form of youth there, where the comely countenance, where the beautiful eyes, where the splendid face? Are not all things dust? Are not all things ash? Are not all things darkness? Are not all things consumed and putrid? Thinking these things, and having the last day in mind, while we have time, let us work what is good, that we may be delivered from the future and interminable hell, and be held worthy of the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY XLVIII.

A Florilegium in the form of a discourse, collected from Chrysostom by Theodore: what a Christian doing shall receive the inheritance of eternal life.

To love God with all one’s soul and strength, and to keep His commandments, and to love one's neighbor as oneself, according to the voice of the Lord saying: "If you keep my commandments, you shall abide in my love" (John 15:10); and again: "In this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." He who humbles his soul before God and is never puffed up against his neighbor: for "A contrite and humbled heart God will not despise" (Ps. 50:19): who is crushed concerning the neighbor’s sin, and laments his own sins, and rejoices in the neighbor’s joy, and is not twisted with envy in his prosperity: who receives and instructs adversaries with gentleness, and always desires and seeks to exercise the justice of God; for this man will keep the purity of his soul: who is moved with mercy toward those who have need of compassion, and has given himself up to the peace which is according to God, and strives so that by this work he may be called a son of God; and besides, is affected with insult, is accused and suffers persecution, and dies for the justice of God and the confession made in Christ, because this is eternal life: who overturns every heretical blasphemy, and rightly confesses the confession of the Holy Trinity: who meditates truth in his heart, and does not craftily turn his tongue into falsehood, nor bring evil upon his neighbor, as it is written: who does not accuse, nor revile, nor do any other forbidden thing, but accurately keeps all the commandments of Christ, and performs them: being defrauded, he does not return the favor, giving a tunic to him who has not, being reviled he blesses, being pressed into service he adds to the burden: carrying in his mouth no shameful or blasphemous word, nor uttering an oath, but acknowledging one term, truth, and meditating upon it night and day; and according to the Lord’s commandment saying nothing more than "yes, yes" and "no, no" in his defenses: moving his tongue to the singing of hymns, his knees and his hands with his mind to prayer, pouring out tears for sins in the sight of God: always solicitous concerning his death, and concerning the future judgment, concerning the giving of an account of works, always revolving his sins in his mind, offering praises to God for them: however, diligently doing good works; but not exalting or boasting of them, nor thinking highly of them, like that Pharisee, but leaving the knowledge of them to God who knows them, who will render to each according to his works: fleeing drunkenness, perjury, gluttony, untimely words, envy, contention, malice, avarice which is a second idolatry, fury, anger, fornication, adultery, and all such bodily filth: not practicing pharmacy, or divination, or any incantation, but purifying himself night and day, that he may partake without blame of the precious body and blood of Christ; patronizing orphans, and likewise widows and strangers: not turning himself away from him who asks, or from him who wants to take at interest, but tearing up every unjust bond: if indeed he has any just one, not exalting nor showing it, since he is wholly God’s, and has it from God... and glorifying those who glorify God, and honoring his servants: having mercy on the enemies of the faith because of their blindness, and with every effort attempting to convert them, but turning away from those who remain obstinate, and hating with a perfect hatred those who hate God, living in all goodness, in all piety, in all chastity, as if he had God wholly in himself, and were wholly God’s, always moved and agitated by His memory and by His commandments, and when he lies down on a bed, when he has risen, when he eats, drinks, and spends the day, as it is written: "I kept the Lord in my sight always, for He is at my right hand, that I might not be moved"; and, "Let all the earth fear, and let all the inhabitants of the world be moved by Him" (Ps. 15:8)... and of injuries unto death, and to him who forgives his neighbor his sins, his own sins are forgiven by God. For if we do not remember the sins which others have committed against us, neither will God remember ours, which we have committed against Him. But to judge justly in the fear of God; [alt-version omitted]

and he who has forgiven his neighbor his offense, his own offenses are forgiven by God. For if we do not remember the sins which others have committed against us, neither does God remember the sins which we have committed against Him. ^B And one must judge justly in the fear of God. For judgment belongs to God; one must not condemn others for offenses—that is to say, to despise and loathe them, and to look out for the evils of one’s neighbor, and to justify oneself, without seeing one’s own logs, but rather producing the specks of one’s neighbor—that is to say, the minor shortcomings of our brethren; for this greatly angers God; for it is not right to judge another man’s servant; for every man belongs to God. But to judge is to be corrected in love, to snatch the wronged from the hand of him who wrongs him, to become a father to the helpless, an eye to the blind, and a foot to the lame, according to what has been said, being pious and just in performing this with the proper admonition and exhortation; just as the blessed Apostle says: ^C "For a period of three years, night and day, I did not cease to admonish every one of you with tears" (Act. 20. 31). The Christian must flee from shameful gain, and be rather pious and holy, and attend to reading, and to exhortation, and to admonition, and to learning, according to what has been said: "Teaching and admonishing yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with grace singing in your hearts to the Lord" (Eph. 5. 19); honoring our parents, that we may be long-lived upon the earth, and not to speak evil of father or mother, but to provide also for our own, and especially for those of the household of the faith. And he who does not absent himself from ecclesiastical gatherings—that is, from the common synaxes and prayers—but offers prayers to God publicly before all the people, and does not despise wise exhortations or godly teachings, nor judges the wonders and works of God to be unbelievable or impossible, ^D as they are worked throughout each generation, considering this; he who acts thus, and thus has God in his heart, in prudence, shall inherit the kingdom prepared for the saints from the foundation of the world, which shall never have an end, of which may we all attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power unto the ages of ages. Amen.

NOTICE CONCERNING THE FOLLOWING LITURGY

ORDER OF THE DIVINE SACRIFICE OF OUR HOLY FATHER JOHN CHRYSOSTOM

The priest, about to perform the divine mystery, must be previously confessed and reconciled with all, and must have kept his heart clean, as much as in his power, from evil thoughts, having fasted since the evening, and having kept watch until the time of the sacred service. When the time arrives, after performing the customary prostration to the superior, he enters the church, and joined by the deacon, they make together three prostrations towards the east before the icon of the Savior and the all-holy Theotokos, and one to each of the two choirs. When they prostrate, they say this prayer in secret: "Lord our God, send forth thy hand from thy holy dwelling-place, and strengthen me for this thy proposed service, that standing blameless before thy fearful throne, I may perform the bloodless service; for thine is the power and the glory unto the ages of ages. Amen." Having come to the sanctuary, each takes his own sticharion in his hands, and they make three prostrations toward the east, saying to themselves: "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Luc. 18. 13). Then the deacon approaches the priest, bowing his head, holding also in his right hand the