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