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...