Homily 22

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.