On the Homilies

SUPPLEMENT TO THE WORKS OF ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE. TO THE HOMILIES.

HOMILY I. On the Holy Pentecost.

^B1. The grace which distributed tongues today does not allow me to fear the poverty of my own tongue; the same grace which appointed the unlearned as teachers to the world, which made fishermen into orators by an improvised wisdom, and put the wise men of the world to shame. For from whence else did the flocks of men, diseased with the sickness of idolatry, run toward true piety? How did they learn to cast off the multifaceted slavery of the demons? How could it have happened that a small number of disciples could contend against the phalanxes of men and demons alike, if they had not been armed with the fire of the Godhead? Today the fountain of grace gushed forth through the fire, and a flame running through the air was fanned by the breezes of the Spirit. Christ, announcing this grace to the disciples, said: "I will not leave you orphans; the Father will send you another Paraclete." For the ascent of the Master into heaven guarantees the descent of the Spirit from heaven. It was necessary for those who had received Jesus to receive also the arrival of the Spirit, so that the teachings of the knowledge of God might run toward a more noble ascent. Jesus, then, having taken on human nature and being clothed in a form kindred to men, roused men for the reception of the Spirit: "For I have yet many things to say to you," he says, "but you cannot bear them; but when the Paraclete comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you into all the truth; there shall come after me one who is equal in merit to me." Consequently, they learned by *[deeds]* what had been announced to them in words; the promise they had received, the experience of these things they awaited, during the fulfilling of the day of Pentecost. A brief time elapsed between the ascent, and the descent of the Spirit takes place; the promise of the Savior received its fulfillment in works.

^B

2. The choir of the Apostles, therefore, having grasped the promise of the Master like a certain anchor, awaited the coming of the Spirit. But when the course of days had reached the number of fifty, and the cycle of seven weeks—turning itself according to the ordinance of the Law—was brought to a close between the limits of either feast, then indeed the descent of the Spirit took place; but not as the Son assumed flesh, nor was He revealed in human form, nor did the form of a dove signify the presence of the Spirit as it did before in the streams of the Jordan; for the sovereign nature of things reveals itself as it wills. A thunderbolt, like a trumpet, roared from heaven, surpassing in its resonance every sound that is heard. And a flame, darting forth, brought forth tongues of fire; the division of the fire became the mother of tongues; and the tongues in turn rested upon the heads of the disciples. In this way, then, the manifestation of the Spirit was accomplished.

3. Moreover, He chose this day, while passing over others; for it was not without reason that He would neither anticipate the solemnity with haste, nor descend after that day had passed. Why? For there are only these three public solemnities among the Jews; the first is the Pascha, during which, while they sacrificed the sheep, they did not recognize the true Lamb; and while they offered honor to the type, they became impious against the Author of the type; for while venerating the shadow, they held the presence in contempt. The second solemnity after that is Pentecost, having taken its name from the interval of the Spirit’s coming. Besides these, there was the feast of the shadowed Tabernacles, which was an imitation of the desert. These solemnities, of course, necessarily gathered all the Jews together for one single exercise or pious observance. ^C Since, therefore, the cross was fixed at the first solemnity and the suffering Christ was lifted up, at which spectacle the entire multitude of the Jews was present, but the miracle of the resurrection they stubbornly ignored, disbelieved, concealed, and attacked with calumnies, immediately after that first solemnity—at the time when it was again necessary for all the tribes of the Jews to assemble at the same place—having seized the opportune moment, the grace of the Spirit was poured out upon the disciples and turned the eyes and ears of all toward itself, so that the gift bestowed upon the disciples by Christ might testify to his resurrection. For thus those who had not believed that Christ had risen, behold the same One sending gifts from heaven; those who had sealed the tomb become spectators of His heavenly wonders. Therefore, the sound of thunder and the fire from heaven and the power of the Spirit confirmed His advent. ^D

4. Thus, then, was the flame once brandished at Mount Sinai, and Moses was taught to legislate in the midst of fire. But now a flame sent down from a higher place runs onto the apostolic heads. For He who then stirred Moses to the giving of the Law to the Hebrews, the same now applies Himself to the salvation of the nations. And for this reason, the memory of ancient wonders is mingled with the new, and He willed that the fire should again intervene in a similar manifestation, that He might prove to those present that it is the same God who is at work both now and of old. And therefore the Spirit fashions Himself into divided tongues, so that those receiving them, the disciples...

^A might be trained, and—as they moved about like fire—become teachers of the world. For of old, indeed, there existed one voice and one language for all; yet that bold tower-building of long ago divided it, and the subsequent discord of languages brought a war against heaven to a halt. And myriad tongues hammered at myriad utterances; but they found no single hearing sensitive to the sound. Rather, the tongue, once divided, divided minds as well; and the tongue, having been loosed, bound hands. But now, grace has gathered together the tongues, divided by mouths, into the language of each individual, broadening the boundaries of teaching and carving out many paths ^B for the faith.

5. O the paradoxical wonders! The Apostle spoke, and the Indian was instructed; the Hebrew uttered words, and the Barbarian was tutored. Grace was the instructor, and the ear received the word. Goths recognized the voice, and Ethiopians understood the tongue; Persians marveled at the speaker, and barbarian nations were irrigated by a single tongue. As much as human nature was widening into various races, so much did grace become richer in tongues. For the nature of fire, as it is divided, multiplies its activity; for the wealth of grace is a fountain of light. Again, the nature of fire does not know how to be diminished by the touch; rather, its sharing is growth. Thus, grace, being poured out, multiplies the stream. A single lamp gives birth to myriad torches and shows all of them shedding light, ^C and yet the glow of the light is in no way lacking. Thus, the grace of the Spirit, passing from some to others, fills both those whom it reaches and those from whom it departs. First, therefore, grace came upon the apostles, and having occupied them like a citadel, and overflowing through them onto those who believe, it fills everyone; and the streams of grace are not constricted. The tongue of fire, then, flew down; each disciple became a vessel for myriad tongues, and they spoke forth to those present, setting about the contests of teaching; and those present were like a theater for the miracle. And the multitude of listeners, divided by race, was not at a loss, as the apostolic tongue persuaded them in their own kindred words. For just as if by some dye, having been imbued by the touch of fire, ^D and receiving the apostolic voice, they drank in the eternal doctrine; faith was taught, and grace was marveled at, and God was recognized.

6. But the Jew mocked, and accused the miracle of drunkenness, and called the mystery of grace a work of new wine; for he says, "They are filled with new wine." O the brutishness of the stubbornness of the Jews! Consider the season, O Jew, and restrain your slanderous tongue. For where are there kinds of new wine? The summer is past; spring has appeared. Where has the memory of new wine any place? Consider the time and curb your tongue. What then of Peter, ^A chief in the Spirit and overflowing with grace? Filled with fire, he sets his tongue to the defense of tongues: "For these," he says, "are not drunk, as you suppose; but this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: 'I will pour out from my Spirit a sea of gifts.'" The prophet heralds, saying, "I will pour out from my Spirit."

or to the Jews alone does this gift pertain? I deny it indeed. *I will pour out*, he says, *upon all flesh* (Joel 2:28, 29). Now that you have heard the prophecy, behold the outcome: the tongue of the Spirit has outstripped the prophetic tongue. Let us also pray to obtain at least a drop of that grace, so that we who keep the memory of those wonders may also enjoy the gain of grace. For grace is easily granted to a man of good intent; for the same God is he who works all things in all; to him be glory and power through the infinite ages of ages. Amen.

Homily II

Since I saw that my past days were not sufficiently occupied with the duty of teaching, and that I myself, because of infirmity, was compelled to be silent, I was distressed; and I bore this with no less difficulty than a spirited combatant who is hindered from entering the stadium for his contests. I gazed upon you, burning with desire for spiritual food, while I was unequal to providing it for you. I saw that the time for trading was at the doors, yet I was unable to make any bargain with you. I saw that the hunting was plentiful, but that the hunter was insufficient for the prey. Nevertheless, since ^B great sadness came upon me regarding this, I thought it better to regulate my labors in such a way that I might be able to attend the church daily and share with you the rest of the liturgy, rather than, after having spent two or only three days in labor at most, to return to my bed and be separated from you again. For this reason, leaving aside the daily sermons, I come today by the grace of the Lord to fulfill my duties toward you. Come, therefore, let us draw our little boat into the sea of the repentance of the Ninevites. For although different human reasonings are useful for different people, I think the remedies of repentance are beneficial to all; for since no one is devoid ^C of sin, it is manifest that no one is in need of no repentance. Yet those who are in need of it have need of the example of those who were saved by repentance, so that it may lead them too, in the same way, toward salvation. Let us see, therefore, those who had lived in wickedness becoming famous for virtue. Let us see those who were like wild beasts attaining the rank of angels. Let us see those who by their deeds had overturned the city, restoring the same city again through a noble composition of morals. Let us see those who were enemies of God become friends of God, and those who once had the Lord as their accuser, later having him as their advocate. Let us see those condemned by judgment contending ^D before the judge against the sentence itself and rendering it void. Let us see God, because of his love for mankind, doing things beyond what he had threatened. We heard a little while ago how, as the prophet preached, the city was troubled, and how, just as a violent wind stirs up the sea, so the voice of Jonah, falling upon the multitude of the Ninevites, filled everything with storm and tempest. We heard how the city, considering the proclamation to be trustworthy, did not fall into

despair, but ran to repentance; and because it had no assurance of salvation, it endeavored to appease and reconcile God. But what were the actions performed for the sake of reconciliation? It has been stated in part, but it is necessary for me to render the entire account to you; for they proclaimed a fast, and clothed everyone from the least to the greatest in sackcloth. ^A O strange miracle, fearful to men, but desirable to angels! Consider with me those many myriads of men, women, and children all wearing sackcloth, and gathered into one place; all pursuits and all human actions ceasing, with no work being carried out by anyone anywhere, but a wailing and lamentation from all together, and a cry sent up to heaven. Consider the distinction between masters and slaves, rulers and those ruled, cast aside; consider the king, present with the multitude in the same garb, and like a political phalanx, ordering the service of God. ^B For he says, "The word reached the king, and he rose from his throne and took off his robe, and wrapped himself in sackcloth, and sat on ashes" (Jon. III, 6). O wise king! He himself takes the lead in repentance, so as to make the whole city more earnest. For who would any longer remain lax, seeing the king himself struggling for their salvation? He heals the wounds of his purple robe with sackcloth; he washes away the sins of the throne with the seat on ashes; he cures the disease of pride with the humility of his garb; by fasting he treats the sores of luxury; and having demonstrated these things by his actions, he rouses everyone to the same earnestness through the herald's voice. For it was proclaimed, he says, by the king: "Let men, and beasts, and oxen, and sheep taste nothing, nor graze, nor drink water" (ibid. 7). ^C A new legislation from a king! As a physician, he imposes fasting upon the weak; or rather, that delicate legislator of a pious fast imitates the apostolic teachings, and commands the irrational animals to share in this for humans, so that by nature incapable of sin, he might draw God toward greater compassion. "And the men and the beasts," he says, "wrapped themselves in sackcloth" (ibid. 8). O heavenly array! O phalanx terrible to the devil! The devil stood weeping, seeing his army entirely turned toward God and warring against the demons; since children, and women, and infants were battling alongside men in this fight; and now the nature of the beasts was taken as an ally into the ranks. And see, a new spectacle for the devil: herds contributing justice to humans, and fasting for the salvation of their masters; "Let men, and oxen, and beasts taste nothing, nor graze." The king, casting aside the symbols of his rule, took on the order of priests. He stood addressing the people, and instructing the Ninevites to philosophize.

ON THE REPENTANCE OF THE NINEVITES

^A instructing them. "Grave," he says, "O friends, are the circumstances that surround us. We who have conquered the entire inhabited world are perishing as cowards under divine judgment, and we who ruled over all men have been condemned, as the most worthless of all, to a strange manner of death. Once blessed above all others, we shall be seen to be more wretched than any; we shall be a fable and a story to all living, for our past brightness cannot hide the magnitude of our present evils. Now therefore, Ninevites, we who have conquered in many wars, let us contend more nobly for our own salvation. For formerly we did everything to bring others into our power, but now the prize of our struggle is not to perish utterly together with our women and children. Against the uprising of a foreign war, let us contend in a foreign manner. Let us shoot at the sky with hymns; let us cast at it, instead of spears, psalms; let us use prayers to sling at God; let us mollify His anger with unceasing tears; let us break the phalanx of wicked deeds; let us pull down the fortifications of malice; let us do battle with the armor of virtue. ^B The breastplate of justice is not wounded by any missile; the shield of faith cannot be burned by any lightning bolt; God does not suffer the helmet of hope to be crushed; the tunic of temperance is not torn by the wrath from above; the threat of destruction is not strong enough to pull down the wall of confession; when the sentence of perdition sees a fervent repentance, it is immediately dissolved like smoke. If in this way, O friends, and with such arms we fight, we shall master not only the earth but also the heaven. Take heart, Ninevites, take heart! The King who makes war upon us is most loving toward men; He only defeats those who are stubborn, and once easily reconciled, He becomes a benefactor to His enemies."

With such hortatory words the king stirred the people to repentance. And the Ninevites readily obeyed his commands. For, it says, the men and the beasts put on sackcloth and cried out fervently to God. It was not that their speech was ready while their thought remained aloft; nor that their tongue spoke while their mind wandered; nor that their voice was uttered while their purpose lagged. Rather, both with joined efforts entreated God. ^C The coming of night, while augmenting their fear, banished sleep and made their hymn-singing ever more eager. Day again, showing the sky dark and resounding with unceasing lightning and thunder, moved everyone to extreme tremor and a great cry. The earth quaking caused much agitation in their souls. All the infants, running from fear to their mothers' bosoms and wailing in their arms, caused an ineffable lamentation and mourning for those who saw them. Herds of oxen and sheep, and all the cattle, deprived of pasture and water, with varied cries moved even the most adamant souls to weeping. ^D Yet, although the threat and the dread troubled all things so that they might have abandoned their good hope, they could not be compelled to do so by any reasoning. "For who knows," it says, "if God will repent and turn away from the fury of His anger, and we shall not perish?"* Truly from the bottom of the heart—

^A they shouted to God: "O King, Lord of life and death, we are indeed worthy of the sentence which Thou hast threatened, and we owe a penalty for each of our sins, having been ignorant of Thee, the true God, and having lived spent lives. But do Thou, using the ocean of Thy mercies, put an end to the punishment decreed against us: conquer the standard of justice with goodness, and our ingratitude with clemency. For if Thou hadst wished to inflict on us a sudden blow, Thy word would have been joined to the punishment itself, and since we were still strangers to Thee and impious, Thou wouldst have consigned us to death; but now, when Thou hast granted to us a fixed time for our good, if Thou slayest us after we have turned, Thou art not destroying strangers, but Thy own people. ^B When we were impious, Thou didst protect us, and now that we have returned to the faith, wilt Thou consume us? Didst Thou preserve us when we were alien to good character, and now wilt Thou take us from the midst when we are performing good works? Hast Thou increased the city that was addicted to idols, and made it the queen of other cities, and now wilt Thou destroy it, now that it is given to Thy dominion? We subdued the earth while we were ignorant of Thee, with Thy help; now that we adore Thee, shall we be cast out of this same earth? Spare Thy name, O King, lest when Thou demandest punishments from the Ninevites, Thou render Thy piety something useless and to be avoided; lest, by inflicting a just penalty upon us, Thou close the door of repentance to men. For if, having been granted a legislator and teachers, we had proceeded into much greater wickedness, Thou wouldst destroy us with inexorable ruin ^C and grant no pardon to those who supplicate, nay, Thou wouldst even induce a punishment graver than that which Thou hadst threatened: but if, not being instructed and not having learned, we persisted in malice and impiety, do not, O King, condemn our ignorance to such great ruin. Thou didst not destroy men without cause of old by the flood, for they would not lend their ears to Noah as he taught; Thou didst announce their destruction beforehand, but they did not abstain from sin. Justly didst Thou burn the Sodomites with fire, for they refused to accept the counsels of Lot. The Egyptians were submerged in a similar fashion with Pharaoh; for they did not have faith when Moses taught, although they were struck many times and had experienced ^D Thy right hand. But have we dared to contradict in anything? Just now Thou didst send to us only one, and him not a teacher, but rather a herald of evils, and we, believing, have honored Thy worship with the whole population. Thou didst give us a small amount of time, and in it we have shown the greatest change. When the voice of the herald announced our destruction, we recognized the love with which Thou embracest the human race. While the prophet announced subversion, we placed our trust in Thy mercy. Do not, O Best One, render our hope empty, nor restrain the tongues that desire to celebrate Thy beneficence. Do not permit that Thou hand over to death men who strive with every effort to report the proclamations of Thy goodness; nor hinder us from becoming teachers of piety to all those who are in any way joined to us. Do not persist in the same anger against us, who no longer linger in the same things. We have been changed, do Thou also change. Stop Thy anger, as

^A we have restrained our error. Make the punishment cease, just as ^B He spares the herds lowing on account of hunger; He spares the innocent children suffocated by weeping; He spares the infants fading away from fasting. Do not destroy the guiltless along with the guilty. Have pity on the mothers who, because of Thy anger, do not provide milk to their beloved offspring; parents deny mercy to them, so that they might draw Thy mercy to themselves. All men are held by the same malice as we are; if Thou dost not accept us as we repent, Thou hast cut off the hopes of the whole world. In the beginning (of their repentance) perhaps the Ninevites used such words; but their works—fasting, sackcloth, continuous prayer, tears, flight from wickedness—were in harmony with their words. For they cried out, it says, earnestly to the Lord, and everyone turned from his own evil way, and from the injustice that was in their hands. They grasped wisdom from its very summit, and made the apex of virtue the basis of that same virtue; for everyone studied to perform whatever work was best and most pleasing to God. They saw the war sent against them from heaven, and fortified themselves with good works as if with a wall. They clothed themselves in sackcloth, truly a wondrous armor. Against the thunderbolts sent from heaven, they set their vows and prayers on earth. Against the crashing of the thunder, they set the sound of their hymnody. Fasting became for them a clear tower. With fountains of tears they extinguished the multitude of their sins. They bound their enemies to themselves with friendship so that they might reconcile God to themselves; they put away the anger they held against those who had offended them, so that they might appease the anger the Lord had against them. They tore up the scroll of debts below, so that they might obtain from above the forgiveness of their sins. They gave freedom to their slaves, so that they themselves might obtain freedom from punishment. They distributed their wealth to the needy, so that they might possess their own goods securely. Forsaking luxury, they pursued continence; shunning debauchery, they embraced temperance. Hating the arrogance of positions of honor, they all transformed themselves into a humble and mournful appearance. Ceasing from sales, contracts, and every business, they served only God. The wicked voluntarily confessed their robberies, nor did the judges demand penalty from those confessing. All confessed as if placed at the end of their lives. Riches were cast aside without a guardian, nor did a thief appear anywhere. Gold was supplied to the needy, and everyone fled from possession as if it were a loss. A single thing, namely salvation, was the care of all. To rich and poor alike there was one effort, namely the desire to preserve life before all else. Everything, however, that did not aim at this was rejected as worthless and useless. Salvation was uncertain, and was sought as if it were placed outside every risk. They could not promise themselves an end to their penance, and as if they were to live right up to the end, they occupied themselves in every good work. O philosophers of the barbarians! O wise unlearned men! Without being taught they knew what was necessary, without a lawgiver they were transformed, without teachers they were brought to self-control, from the deepest wickedness into the heavenly city

ran to retrieve their integrity. This is the transformation of the right hand ^A of the Most High. For a rain of threats, the Ninevites sprouted a harvest of ten thousand blessings; they were melted down like some ancient statues. They were refashioned by repentance; from sinners they became righteous, beloved by the angels, desirable to God. They steadied the city that was tottering, they raised up what was falling, they made firm what was shaking. They turned, and did not turn back; they were changed, and were not destroyed. "For God saw," it says, "their works, that they turned from their evil ways, and He relented concerning the evil which He had spoken of doing to them." Oh, paradoxical events! The Judge reviewed the trial; He annulled the vote that was bringing death, and He cast the vote that brings salvation. The Ninevites repented, and God repented. Repentance tore up the decree of destruction. They tore up ^B their wickedness, and God tore up the sentence. Oh, all-powerful repentance! It is accomplished on earth, and it causes a change in the things in heaven. In the same way let us also, friends, repent; in this way let us fast; let us join good deeds to our fasting; let us abstain from evil deeds; let us fear the threat of hell; through repentance let us attain salvation from God. To Him be the glory and the power unto the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY III. On alms, and on the rich man and Lazarus (5).

^{C A}. Great is the benefit of alms. Nothing else is equal to alms. No other virtue has such power to wipe away sins. Therefore, divine Scripture also says: "He who has pity on the poor, lends to God." If you lend gold to a man, he binds you with bonds and written documents. But with God, it is not so. Rather, you give to the martyrs, to the needy, and God calls [you] to repay the loan. He hastens to resolve the security for what you lent the needy, and He does not simply repay, but repays with many blessings, saying: "Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." If you lend to a man, ^D there is no time when he repays the loan, nor does he even want to see your face; but God, having accepted the loan through those who attend the martyrs and through the poor, does not [merely] repay the loan and dismiss [you], but even makes the lenders co-heirs, saying: "Come, you blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." When did the Lord prepare it? When? When you were offering fruits in the churches and at the martyrs' shrines; when you were observing the memorials of the saints; when you were lending bread to the needy; when you were welcoming beggars into your home; when you were clothing beggars; when you were [visiting] the sick and in pri-

prison—when you were doing these things, I was preparing the kingdom. ^A

II. But consider the greatness of almsgiving, for no virtue is equal to it. For He did not say: "You kept virginity for my sake." He did not say this. (But) "I was hungry and you gave me to eat." Great is virginity, and fasting, and the other virtues, but they are inferior to almsgiving. The five foolish virgins also kept their virginity, but because they did not have the works of mercy, they remained outside the bridal chamber; for the five prudent ones had mercy along with their virginity; that is why they entered the bridal chamber. ^B But the five foolish ones preserved only their virginity, thinking that by that very thing they would enter into the kingdom of heaven, and they did not acquire anything else—not almsgiving, nor anything else. That is why the Lord also says to them: "Depart from me, I do not know you." That is why they were also called foolish, because they kept only their virginity and did not perform works of mercy.

III. For just as if someone lights a lamp and does not pour in the oil, it is extinguished; just so, if someone keeps virginity, but does not nourish the poor with the oil of almsgiving, he has gained nothing. Great is the commerce of almsgiving. If you desire to buy a garment or oxen, you take up expenses and silver, and you set out to the market, and burning with heat, sometimes you are hungry and thirsty. ^C And having endured all these things, you can barely succeed in your purpose; and when you succeed, the seller will not give as you wish, but as he himself pleases. You swear, "I will not buy it for so much"; he swears, "I will not sell it for so much." And between you, the first sin is born, just as Solomon said: "Between selling and buying sin will be generated." For it is necessary that one or both of you commit perjury; which often occurs with not even one word by the buyer or the seller. Sometimes, after so many labors, you are not certain of having what you desire to possess. For often before you reach your house, either that which was bought dies, or is lost, or is found to be worthless, and a double trouble happens to you. ^D But for the sake of the kingdom of God, you undergo nothing of this kind; you do not endure the labor of a journey, and the exhaustion of the heat, nor the pain of frustrated hope: nothing of these, I say. But while you are sitting at home, a poor man comes who sells Paradise, and he says: "Give bread and receive Paradise; give a piece of a worn-out garment and receive the kingdom of heaven." And I do not tell you for how much, so that you do not hesitate, pleading poverty. For as much as you wish, buy Paradise. Give bread. You haven't bread? Give an obol, give a cup of cold water. Give what you wish, what you have: I receive everything. Only buy Paradise. Imitate that admirable

^A widow, who gave a handful of meal and returned the kingdom of heaven. And again, another widow, the one mentioned in the Gospel, having nothing else at all but only two mites, and even these she cast into the treasury, and she purchased Paradise.

IV. He who sells Paradise does not ask for money, but for a merciful soul and a ready heart. Give to the poor man, and acquire God as your debtor. He who takes pity on the poor man lends to God. And when, he says, does He who has been lent to pay back? When? When, leaving behind your properties, your houses, your gold, your clothing, and all other things, you depart naked and have abandoned everything; then He who has been lent to, pays back with thanksgiving. Send your wealth there before you, and then you too depart. Do not wait for gold, do not keep it. Life is uncertain; you do not know when you will depart this life. For as a thief in the night, so death comes. At an hour you do not know and do not expect, it arrives; and your wealth remains here, while there you will desire a ^B drop of water so that you may moisten your lips, while meanwhile others here divide your life between them.

V. Just so did that rich man, who exists in the fire, also desire a drop of water, and he entreated Abraham, saying: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that with the tip of his finger he might moisten my lips, for I am tormented in this flame." This rich man, when he was upon the earth, used to dress in purple, and fine linen, and silk; and he used to go forth conveyed by a chariot. His horses were white-spotted, adorned with gold and silver, and their legs were bound with gold. ^C Boys were running before and after, wearing gold collars, bracelets, and necklaces; and, to speak briefly, he used to go forth in great pomp. And at his banquet, immense gold was in service, and silver in unspeakable abundance, wine most precious, pheasants, geese, purple-hens, partridges, doves, fowl, hares, lambs, kids, and a multitude of cooks making a clamor. Others were fanning so that not a single speck of dust might settle upon his head; others holding silver basins, and clean linen clothes, were ready, wiping the tips of his fingers while he lay at table. And look at the inhumanity and the shame.

VI. All were laboring—such bloodshed and clamor, just to satisfy the belly of that one rich man. And after the ^D filling of it with the luxurious foods, there were prepared for him ivory beds, pillows filled with goose feathers, and clean, delicate linen sheets. And as he was unable to sleep because of the heaviness of his head, some were massaging his feet, others were attending to the house, guarding the doors and the windows lest any noise, or any shouts, or

^A any noise whatsoever might wake him. Such was the spectacle of that rich man.

VII. Now there was a certain poor man named Lazarus, and he had been cast at the gate of the rich man, full of sores, and longing to be filled with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table; and no one gave to him. For the rich man saw him, and turned away his face, loathed him, spat, passed by, or rather looked aside. The wretch did not say: "This is a man just like me. The same hand created both of us; he is my fellow tribesman and of the same nature." He did not incline his mind, he was not softened to mercy. He did not pity the man cast in such great infirmity at his gate. For the dogs, coming and seeing him lying thus, and the pus streaming from his limbs, showing great compassion, as if approaching with a kind of sponge, kept licking the pus from his limbs with their tongues, licking around them as if some excellent physicians treating his wounds, keeping their mouths intently focused as a sign of good will, and taking diligent care lest by chance the venom of their teeth might reach and injure any part of the righteous man. O the cruelty of the rich man! The dogs displayed the art of medicine for the sufferer; they, having no knowledge of God, nor awaiting a resurrection, pressed themselves to the healing of the poor man. Yet the rich man, who knew that he would stand before that terrible tribunal, did not pity the poor man.

VIII. Have you seen the display and luxury of this rich man here? Have you seen the condition and the austerity of the poor man, who had no place? The one glorious, the other ignoble; the one living in pleasures, the other prostrate in infirmity; the one abounding in such great riches, yet he had no memory of God; the other, lying in such great infirmity, did not speak a word against God. Come, therefore, let us see the end of both in that eternity.

IX. It happened, he says, that the rich man died and was carried off into eternal punishment. But Lazarus also died, and was carried by the angels into the bosom of Abraham. And while the rich man was in the fire, he saw Lazarus resting in the bosom of Abraham, and he recognized him. And he cried out, saying: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger and cool my lips, for I am tormented in this flame." Where are the riches? Where is the gold? Where is the silver? Where is the silver-paneled ceiling? Where is the pomp of servants? Where is the poured-out wine? And now you seek and desire a drop of water? "Have mercy on me, Father Abraham?" O wretched rich man! When Lazarus was lying at your gate, you did not want to recognize him; and now you desire Lazarus to help you? Have mercy on me? But indeed, your plea will prove useless. The time of mercy has passed. For there...

^A is no mercy there. For judgment is without mercy to one who has not shown mercy (Jas II, 13). Why do you desire mercy, which you did not acquire while on earth? "Have mercy on me, Father Abraham, and send Lazarus, so that he may cool my lips with his little finger, for I am tormented in this flame." With what finger, O rich man? The one you did not even deign to feed at your table? At that time, you did not want to look at his hands, but loathed them; and now you beg him to touch your tongue? "Have mercy on me, Father Abraham." How do you call him father, when you have not done the deeds of a son? He is a father to those who live in the light. There is no harmony between light and darkness. Do not call him father. For according to your unmerciful ways, you are a son of darkness and of Gehenna. But how do you call him father, when you have not shown mercy to his son, Lazarus?

^B X. But this great patriarch did not overwhelm him with sorrow; he did not add pain; he did not strike him with words; he did not deny our common human nature. But with a gentle voice and a cheerful countenance, he answered, saying: "Child, you received your good things on earth, and Lazarus the bad things. Therefore he finds rest here, and you are tormented" (Luc. XVI, 25). "Moreover, there is a great chasm between you and us, and no one can cross it from us to you" (Luc. XVI, 26).

XI. Have you seen the end of the rich man? Have you seen the fleeting nature of luxury? Do not delay in giving what is yours to the poor. Never put it off until tomorrow. For you do not know what tomorrow will bring (Prov. XXVII, 1). Why do you heap up riches which, after a short time, you leave behind against your will, and depart sorrowing, and desire there a drop of water, while others here distribute your ^C wealth and remember your name no more? For often your heirs even dig up your bones, cursing you. Send your wealth ahead to the endless age that is to come. That carrier there grants you the transport for free. Here, if you want to move your wealth from one city to another, you must hire beasts of burden, mercenary camels, mules, and guards armed with swords along the road, lest some wicked men attack and plunder your wealth. But if you wish to transport your wealth into that world, you endure no labor, spend no fee, suffer no harm, nor do you go out of your house. But you sit in the city in great quiet, and the poor man comes ^D to your door, seeking to transport your wealth into the endless age there. And you do not give him, by your own will, even one obol? Reflect, O man, if you wish to possess immortal riches. Give into the hands of the poor, and you will find there one with whom you may lodge. Do not fear, because the poor are without assessment; their vessel is rich and be-

...preparing hospitality for you there. Do not fear that the poor are destitute; there is a rich and generous guarantor. For he who has mercy on the poor lends to God.

XII. Let us fear that day, the day on which the master of the house calls the laborers for the harvesting of the wheat, and will gather the wheat into the barns, but will burn the chaff with unquenchable fire. The master of the house is the Lord, and the laborers are the angels, who gather the world for judgment in that hour and day. And they will gather the righteous into the eternal tabernacles which the Lord, having been taken up, prepared, but the sinners into the eternal fire. Let us strive, therefore, to be found as good grain through almsgiving, that we may enter into the eternal tabernacles. With whom, ^B together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, honor, and worship to the ages of ages. Amen.

HOMILY IV.

On the ten thousand talents and the hundred denarii, and on not bearing grudges.

The blessed apostle Paul, that vessel of election who had Christ speaking within himself, writing to those in Rome, said: "The night has advanced, the day of salvation has drawn near. Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light, that we may walk honorably as in the day." Therefore, we too, brothers, let us show a certain zeal; let us send up assiduous prayers to the Master; let us be poured out in tears; let us unceasingly condemn the evils we have committed; let us lay open our wounds to Him as to the physician of our souls, and show Him the sores of the soul, and seek from Him the remedy. Let us bridle and uproot the passions that disturb our reason; let us not permit the desire for riches to lord it over us, nor let us harbor a memory of injuries or enmity toward our neighbor. For nothing moves the wrath of God and His rejection so much as a man who is mindful of injuries and continually keeps hatred against his neighbor. For the ruinousness of this sin is so great that it even turns away the mercy of God. And that you may learn this, I wish to remind you of the parable that is read in the holy Gospel, concerning the servant who obtained the remission of the ten thousand talents after he had fallen down as a suppliant and begged the Lord. His lord, moved by mercy, granted him pardon and remitted the debt. Did you see the kindness of the Lord? That servant, falling down, was pleading as a suppliant that a delay be given to him: "Have patience with me," he said, "and I will pay you everything." But the kind, indulgent, and merciful Lord, moved by the prayers of the servant, granted him as much as he neither asked nor could have imagined. For thus God is always accustomed to surpass and forestall our petitions. ^{C D}

^A Since he requested delay and promised to make full payment, the One who surpasses our sins in goodness, moved by compassion, released him and forgave him the debt. Do you see what the servant asked, and how much the Master granted? But see again his great inhumanity. For it was fitting, after such great mercy and unspeakable benefit with which he had been gifted, that he should have been more compassionate toward his fellow human being; yet he showed the complete opposite. "Going out," says the Evangelist, "this man who had received the remission of the ten thousand talents" — attend, I beg you, with precision; for events that happen to him are capable of reaching our soul and persuading us to banish this grievous disease from our minds. This man, then, "going out, found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii." Observe how great the difference is. Here, a fellow servant is the debtor; the debt, a hundred denarii. There, a master is the creditor; the debt, ten thousand talents. Yet the Master, when he saw him begging and entreating, forgave him. But this man, "having seized him, was choking him, saying: Pay me what you owe." What then? "His fellow servant, falling down, began to beseech him, saying—" ^B Observe how the Evangelist repeatedly stresses this expression, saying "his fellow servant," not simply, but in order that we might learn that there was no difference between them, and yet he employed that same petition toward him which he had used toward the Master, saying, "Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything." But he, it says, went and threw him into prison until he should pay what was owed to him. Oh, the excess of ingratitude! While still having a fresh memory of such great generosity, not even so did he endure to think of anything sympathetic, but first he choked him, and now he even cast him into prison.

^C But see what happens. "His fellow servants, seeing this, were very grieved, and coming, they explained to their master all that had occurred." Not he who had suffered the injury — for how could he, being confined in prison? — but his fellow servants, who had suffered no injustice, were as grieved as if they had been the ones wronged, and they went and reported everything. But observe then the indignation of the Master. "Then having called him, He says to him: 'Wicked servant.'" Truly here it is possible to see how great is the destruction of bearing a grudge. When he was owing the ten thousand talents, He did not call him wicked, but now, when he had become cruel toward his fellow servant, then He says, "I forgave you all that debt because you entreated me." ^D Observe how He shows the excess of his wickedness? "Did I show anything more?" He says. "Did I not produce mere words, and receiving your petition, did I forgive you all that great and unbearable debt; was it not necessary also..."

^A for you to have pity on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?" ^B What forgiveness could you be considered worthy of? I, he says, forgave such a mass of debts because of those mere words, yet you did not have pity on your fellow servant, your own kinsman, nor were you moved, nor, coming to the memory of the things bestowed upon you by me, did you show sympathy toward him; but you became merciless and cruel, and you were unwilling to show pity to your fellow servant. Therefore, learn here by experience of what evils you have become the cause to yourself. "And being angry, his lord delivered him to the tormentors." See him both becoming angry because of his inhumanity toward his fellow servant, and delivering him to the tormentors; and what he did not do before, when he was liable for so many debts, he now orders to be done. He delivered him to the tormentors until he should pay what was owed, until he should pay back those ten thousand talents, of which he had already received the remission and departed. Greatest and ineffable is the philanthropy of God. When he himself was supplicating, because he offered prayer, he forgave; but when he saw him having become cruel and inhuman toward his fellow servant, he then recalls his own generosity, showing him by his deeds that he did not inflict so much injury upon him as upon himself. And just as that man cast his fellow servant into prison until he should pay the debt, so also he delivered him to tortures until he should pay back all the debt.

But here, brethren, the discourse is not about talents and denarii; but being debtors to the Lord for the gravity of our sins, through his ineffable philanthropy we receive forgiveness from him. But if we become cruel and inhuman toward our fellow servants and fellow kinsmen and those who are sharers of the same nature with us, and we do not release the offenses against us, but demand accounts from them for these petty things, then we bring upon ourselves the indignation of the Lord; and we are ordered to pay back exactly those debts for which we first received remission, with tortures. For as much as a hundred denarii and ten thousand talents differ, so much do our sins against the Lord and our neighbors' offenses against us differ among themselves. But so that we might learn accurately that the Lord brought forth this parable for the benefit of our souls, hear what he added: "So also shall your heavenly Father do to you," he says, "if you do not forgive each one from your hearts the trespasses of them." ^C Great is the profit of the parable, if only we are willing to pay attention. For what are we able to forgive, as much as is forgiven to us by the Lord? And we, if we are willing to do this, forgive our fellow servants; yet we ourselves receive forgiveness from the Lord. And observe also the precision of what was said. For he did not say simply: "If you do not forgive men their trespasses"; but what? "If you do not forgive each one to his brother from your hearts the trespasses of them." Observe how he wants our very heart to exist in peace and tranquility, and our mind to be untroubled, and to be free from every ^D passion, and us to show much kindness toward our neighbor. But also from another place it is to hear him saying: "For if you forgive men their trespasses, he will also forgive you."

^A Let us not, therefore, think that when we do this, we are bestowing some great favor upon another person. For we are the ones who enjoy the benefit and procure for ourselves great profit therefrom; just as, if we do not do this, we shall not be able to harm those others at all, but we are rather preparing for ourselves the unbearable punishment of hell. Therefore, I entreat you, considering these things, let us never bear a grudge against those who have caused us pain or have harmed us in any other way, nor let us be hostile toward them; ^B but rather, considering what a source of benefit this is for us before the Master, and above all, that reconciliation with those who have pained us is an expenditure of our own sins, let us hasten and strive; and considering the profit that comes from this, let us show such care toward those who have wronged us, as if toward true benefactors. For if we are sober, those who are genuinely disposed toward us and strive to serve us in every way will not be able to benefit us as much as this care for them makes us worthy of the grace from above, and lightens for us the burden of our sins. ^C For consider, my beloved, how great the magnitude of this virtue is, from the rewards which the God of all promised to those who accomplish it. Since, after saying, "Love your enemies, bless those who persecute you, pray for those who despitefully use you," because the commandments were great, and touched upon its very summit, he says: "That you may become like your Father who is in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." If, then, according to human strength the merciful man becomes like God, [as one] who not only does not take vengeance on those who have pained him, but even strives to pray for them, what good things will he not attain? Let us not, therefore, deprive ourselves through sloth of such great gifts and of rewards that surpass all speech, ^D but let us strive in every way to accomplish this, and forcing our reasoning faculty, let us train it to yield to the commandment of God. For this is why I too have now made this exhortation, and brought the parable into our midst, and showed the magnitude of the achievement, and how much profit comes to us from this, so that while there is still time, each of us who is hostilely disposed may make haste to reconcile [the other] to himself through much care. And let no one say to me, "I have exhorted him once and a second time, and he did not accept." If we do this from a sincere mind, let us not cease before we have won him over by repeated prayers and drawn him to ourselves. For we are not granting anything to him; the benefit passes to us, we draw to ourselves the benevolence of God, and we receive from this great boldness before the Master. If we accomplish this, we shall be able to utter with a pure conscience the words of the prayer

Dominical prayer. "And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors": if, however, we neglect this, how could it not become for us a cause of condemnation, to act in opposition to our words? Daring to utter the words of the prayer rashly and in vain, we heap up for ourselves a greater fire and provoke the indignation of the Master. ^A I rejoice and am glad with pleasure to see you hearing the words, and by your applause showing that you are eager to become ready and to bring into action this exhortation of the Master. For this is the healing of your souls, this is the remedy for your wounds, this is the best way, this is the greatest sign of a soul that loves God: to embrace every law from God, and not to be drawn away by the thoughts of human infirmity, but to be above the passions. Everyone therefore let him from here make this a worthy labor, and let him hasten toward a great treasure, and not delay even the slightest bit, even if it be necessary to toil, even to search, even to go a long journey, even if there be some difficulties, having removed all these obstacles, let him become concerned with one thing alone: how he might be able to bring to action what has been ordered by God, and to receive the reward of obedience. For I am not unaware that it seems burdensome and difficult to go to someone who is disposed in a hostile way, to stand before him and to converse with him; but if you consider the majesty of him who commands and the greatness of the reward, and that the benefit ^B does not return to him, all things will seem to you light and easy. Revolving these things, therefore, in our minds, let us overcome custom, and with a pious mind let us become fulfillers of the commandments of Christ, that we may be deemed worthy of the rewards from him, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, dominion, honor and adoration now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

NOTICE REGARDING THE FIVE FOLLOWING HOMILIES (18)

Among the most exquisite treasures of the royal library of Dresden is preserved a most polished manuscript codex, containing eleven homilies which bear the name of Saint John Chrysostom. I applied my mind all the more willingly to reading through this codex and, if it were possible, adapting it for common use, as this matter seemed to me to be of more serious importance. Having therefore obtained permission from the most illustrious curator of the Dresden Museum, the excellent man, Bernardo L. B. de Lindenau, I examined these orations and found them for the most part written in print; but five homilies I ^C found nowhere published, neither in the edition of Montfaucon, nor in the books of Chrysostom published separately, as many as the royal library has at hand. Omitting therefore the 2nd, 5th, 8th, 9th, 10th and 11th orations of the codex, already printed in the edition of Montfaucon, I copied the first, third, fourth, sixth, and seventh homilies with all the diligence possible, compared them twice after copying, and (having added the title-inscriptions and opening words of the remaining four at the same time) I took care that the first of these homilies should be printed for the sake of a specimen and example, using this title: *Homily of John Chrysostom to those who value riches highly and have been affected in vain towards the splendid things of life. First published from the Dresden codex and rendered into Latin* (Dresden, 1837); having prayed of all and each, to whom this...

a specimen to be read, so that if they recognized those orations as already subject to the press and published, they might teach me better things. Since no one has done this for the space of two years, while on the contrary, very many learned men, kindly favoring my endeavor, have been my persuaders and exhorters to add four homilies omitted by me, I approached with prayers the Leipzig printer, Karl Christian Tauchnitz, and I have found him, prompt as he is to deserve well of the best literature, not difficult in my matter, both in undertaking it and in carrying it out skillfully and properly.

Whether these homilies, distinguished by the name of John Chrysostom, the most celebrated doctor of the Christian Church, « whose speech flowed sweeter even than honey from his tongue, » should be attributed to him or not, let the judgment rest with learned men who are far superior to me in their knowledge of Chrysostom. It is indeed agreed among all that many writers, so that they might more easily sell their works, were accustomed to adorn them with the name of Chrysostom, so that Montfaucon admits that he saw many things that falsely claimed the authority of so distinguished a Father of the Church; yet not only two passages, namely p. 10: « Neither is the race of cattle without groaning; not only worn out for us in unavoidable slavery, but also vainly slaughtered for demons in corners, » and p. 68: « he who is not recognized by any of these utterances brought against him by Arius, » are most suitable to the century in which Chrysostom lived, but also the first homily itself, with the elegance and richness of its language, and with its argument very similar to other works of the same sacred orator—for example, the homily « On the saying of the prophet: Do not fear when a man becomes rich, » and « On hospitality, » in Psalm XLIX, verse 16, in the Montfaucon edition, vol. V, p. 504: which indeed, occupying the eleventh place among our eleven homilies, appears in the Dresden codex, and seems to show us a genuine author. But in this matter I would dare neither to decide anything, nor to determine the time or place in which those orations were delivered.

Furthermore, as concerns the Latin interpretation added by me to the Greek text of the codex, it has been made deliberately literal and word for word.

I considered it altogether alien to add other animadversions than those which I have placed under the Greek text. These, however, beyond the passages of the sacred codex added by me, cite words of Chrysostom and Basil the Great on pages 10 and 52, which are most worthy to be compared with our passages, and at the same time indicate what seemed to me concerning those passages of the codex in which the reading is found to be not sound or corrupt. But with this codex, edited with the greatest care, fidelity, and diligence, no learned man will now desire the opinion or animadversions of another man concerning the argument, but without any danger of error he will easily use his own judgment.

I wrote this at Dresden, on the 21st day of April, A.D. 1839.

HOMILY V.

To those who highly esteem riches, and have been rashly affected toward the splendid things of life.

^A 1-3 Angelis quidem coelum lætitiæ est domicilium, Ecclesia vero fidis loco cœlorum hospitium unicum ac legitimum, quod animis voluptatem largitur sanctorum carminum auditu. Huic intentam quondam Mariam salutis auctor beatam prædicavit: Maria, inquit, bonam partem elegit, quæ non auferetur ab ea. Solum piæ doctrinæ lucrum et viventibus nobis bonum tutamentum, et mortuis ad judicem viæ comes; sed reliquarum rerum omnium facile disperdi potest possessio, non solum quia sepulcrum successorem habet, sed etiam quia ante sepulcrum innumeras vitæ ruinas ostendit. Nam tanquam mare præsentem navigamus vitam, vehementioribus agitatam undarum fluctibus. Non opulentia constanti quiete fruitur, sed sæpe, cum a vento secundo simul cum possessoribus vehitur, repentina mergitur tempestate. Non thronus altitudo dominatus est

^A of power that is unshakable; for sudden storms of dangers have uprooted prosperity. The gift of health is not without vicissitude, but on the contrary, the unexpected damage of diseases lies in wait for it. The possession of well-being sheds its leaves in various ways, and man resembles a tree, now bearing the blossom of prosperity, and now, like a tree, stripped of its foliage. If you examine the perishable things of life, you will find no neighbor who does not have decay attached to it. For so did the Creator fashion life for us, loosening the desire of those who gape at the earth, and binding fading to the appearance of life, so that when the sweetness of earthly things entices you, the hope of the temporal might stand corrected. For you have been designated a traveler of the present age, not an owner, and we pass through the use of creation only as an inn. For just as travelers, after enjoying a brief stay in an inn, depart and complete the journey ahead, so too, we who travel through the age of this life, having remained a short while in life as in a lodging, emigrate from this dwelling. For God has prepared another life for us and has made this present life a road toward the journey to that other, having ordained the needs from creation only as provisions for the journey. But for us who travel this road, wealth is not a companion of the journey for all that is acquired; for nothing of what we have held, have we held as our own. For the coat we first wear as our own, we have stripped from the nature of sheep; the shoes we wrap around our feet, we have obtained from the hide of cattle; we procure the supply of food and drink from the bosom of the earth; from there, too, is the gold which we all clutch as our own. Kings even beg pearls from shells. We live off the contribution of others and become rich. Return the wool to the sheep, and you will have no covering for your body; return their hides to the cattle, and you will find no covering for your feet; return the silken filaments to the worms, and you will not bring forth a silken garment of your own. But you will not even have an abundance of crumbs, if you do not coax the nourishing earth with the flatteries it loves. This too Christ indicated when He said: If you have not been faithful in that which is another’s, who will give you that which is your own? ^B Do not boast to me of the abundance of cattle and country estates, as if glorying in what is not your own. You are the owner of only one possession: piety. Death, when it comes upon you, will not rob you of this; but it will cast you out of all other things, even against your will. For we have all received the possession of worldly goods as a substitute and for the use of this alone; each person, after enjoying it, departs, taking with him but a small memorial from life. For this is the end of all well-being, this is the conclusion of worldly goods. After a multi-acre estate and gold of many talents, we inherit a narrow and foul-smelling coffin. Truly, All flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower

^A of the grass. A small intensity of fever falling upon one scatters all the prosperity of life. For art indeed applies medicines from without, but death, fighting invisibly against the medicines, gradually proceeds to overpower the sick man. He, seeing the inescapable executioner standing over him and violently pushing his soul toward the exit, turns his head groaning now this way, now that, and casts his gaze about, shedding tears. ^B And there is no help for this violence from anywhere: not the servants standing around the bed can save the one being dragged away, nor do the tears of friends charm death, nor does gold prevent the appearance before the Judge. For death is an incorruptible executioner, having no hand obedient to gold, nor does it sell the dead for a high price, but confines all in graves as in prisons.

Look down upon the remains of the bones, and you will weep more bitterly over the vanity of life. The face is turned to ash, blackened more than soot; the eyes are bored through, consumed by decay; the mouth hangs open and often receives the passage of reptiles. Why do I linger on each limb? Decay and worms, like certain enemies, divide the whole body among themselves, meticulously probing both flesh and nerves and veins.

Is it not fitting? For the infant, looking out from the womb, immediately begins with lamentations, not laughter; for he cries as if complaining against the life of whose mortal gifts he tastes from the very beginning. For as soon as he is born, his hands and feet are immediately bound, and he is wrapped in the bonds of swaddling clothes—as if in the infancy of life providing a precursor of the grave. The infant has just come into life, and the attire of the dead has immediately been brought to him. For nature reminds those who are born of their end; therefore, even the newborn child laments, as if crying out to the mother with a complaint: "Why, O mother, have you brought me forth into this life, in which the addition of living is a wounding toward death? Why have you brought me forth into this turbulent age, not yet born? What are these swaddling clothes—these beginnings? Why have you brought me into such a life, in which even youth is miserable, wasting away before old age, and old age is to be fled, as it leads toward death? It is a hard course, ^C O mother, the stadium of life, having death as the turning-point for those who run. We travel a bitter path of life, having the grave as the inn for those who journey. We sail the sea of life with difficulty; for it has Hades standing as a pirate.

Do I denounce life as evil? For this is the malady of those who are justly named as mad. But I bear witness so that one may not be strongly attached to it, as it is only for a time. Paul, preaching this misery of life, introduced the nature of creation as groaning; *Every* creation, he says, *groans and travails in pain together until now*. For the whole creation is filled with gloom; and if you make an accurate investigation of existing things, you will discern the moan proper to each one. The first moan is sent up from men, through the expense of those who minister to their own corruption. ^D How is it not shameful that you are grieved by death? Paul also groaned for the present life, and writing to the Romans he said that the creation also groans together, and we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, groan.

^A The earth also groans along with men, having received the curse for our sake; the sea laments, which, having been made by God as very beautiful from the beginning, is found to be a tomb for many after the sin. The sun also shines with a sorrowful face, lighting those who do not see its own Creator; the stars, together with the moon, groan, because while they show the Author of concord through their harmonious dance with one another, they do not persuade men. Nor is the race of cattle without groans; for they are not only beaten under the most grievous yoke of our slavery, but are also sacrificed in vain in corners to demons. The groaning of all creation is common from every side, lamenting the condition of the present life, which the prophet has aptly called an image: everything, he says, is vanity, every man who lives, yet man passes by in an image. And behold the truth of the utterance, when you accurately examine human life. For just as in a picture a king sits on a throne adorned with gold, while cities bring gifts of various colors, and the king's hand receives the tributes; but everything that is seen is shadow and stage-setting, and when the curtain is torn, the form is laid bare: in the same way, human nature is like a queen sitting in a picture; she receives the contributions of the sea and the earth, just as those were offered from certain cities; but when her life is torn like a curtain, all the beauty that was in her life vanishes. One thing, however, is greatest among the good things of men: the humility of a contrite heart and of one who always contemplates the day of death, on which, departing naked from this vital sea, we shall see the columns of our deeds displayed to all creation. ^B Do you want me to bring you a comparison for this? Certain persons were sailing together in one ship, and while they traversed the same sea together, they practiced various thefts against one another. The helmsman observed this accurately, but he did not yet bring forth an indictment for the thefts; but when he saw the ship approaching the harbor, he commanded all to leave the ship naked, and he found the theft of each person lying in the ship. Consider this as an example of life for me: for life is set before us in place of the sea; the creation is fitted up as a ship for us to sail in, it uses God as its helmsman, and it receives all the wages of our deeds. If anyone has traded for a corrupted life, he will store it in this ship of creation; but if he has lived a well-ordered life, whatever he has done will be kept for judgment. Then, when the harbor of the end is near, the helmsman casts us naked out of the earthly ship, ^C and everyone's action remains to be displayed in the solemn judgment. Therefore, let us sail the sea of life blameless; let us acquire the creation as a witness to our good works; let us pass by the greatness of present things as being similar to a shadow; let us free our soul from mortal pleasure; let us flee from the pursuit that results in ruin; let us not bind our soul with earthly snares; let us count the fleeting glory of mortals as small; so that we may flee the color of the happiness of the present, which is easily washed away; ^D and with prayer seeking heaven, let us traverse life on wings, vi-

of glory; let us discard the fleeting flower of this life like a garment easily washed away; let us run through the journey of this life with prayer that travels to heaven, we who are traversing the path of this world, and let us press on toward the prize of the upward call in Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY VI. On Prayer.

^BHaving previously discoursed to you about fasting, and having recounted its virtues to the best of our ability, and having again in the former discourse covered your desire to hear about baptism, we wish today to set forth for you also what prayer is, what its power is, and what benefit accrues to those who practice it. I exhort you, therefore, listen kindly and attentively, applying a straight hearing to what is said. It is truly the greatest and eldest thing, and the mother of all commandments, spawning all the mandates of the Lord.

For who, while praying, can neglect a neighbor who is destitute, so that his own devotion might be in vain? Or who can be so desirous of such wealth and abundance that he accepts for the body only useless labor, while his heart is wandering elsewhere? For the disease of greed resembles a certain malady that is difficult to heal and persistent, neither bringing death quickly nor providing perfect health, but little by little loosening the body from its own sinews, until, wasting away from ulcers risen within, and after countless pains, it consigns it to the common ruin of death.

And who, being a lover of prayer, will be able to neglect fasting, instructed by the Holy Scripture itself that "fasting and prayer deliver from death"? Moreover, it is not possible for one living in gluttony and drunkenness to call upon the Lord from the heart, just as the Lord instructed His own disciples in the Gospel: "Watch," he says, "lest your hearts be weighed down by dissipation and drunkenness." For the vapor from the multitude of foods entering in occupies the hollow parts of the brain and clouds the reasoning that is useful for it, disturbing the heart itself.

Thus, prayer is in truth a sort of starting point for all commandments, forcing them all to run along with their own world. Prayer is the greatest good and conversation with God; for it is communion and union with God. And just as the eyes of the body are enlightened by seeing light, so also the soul, when extended toward God, is enlightened by being illuminated by His ineffable light. Prayer, therefore, is not that which is performed in mere external form, but that which is accomplished from the heart; not that which is enclosed by times and intervals of hours, but that which has an unceasing work by night and by day. For it is not necessary only when one goes to prayer to quickly turn the mind toward God, but it is necessary that even when one is occupied with certain duties, whether with the care of the poor, or with other concerns, or with beneficial works of generosity, the desire...

and the memory of God should be mingled, so that, seasoned as it were with salt by the love of God, it may become a most sweet food to the Master of all. We are able to possess the benefit resulting from this as an inalienable treasure throughout our life, if we devote the greatest part of our time to it.

Prayer is the light of the soul, the true knowledge of God, the mediator between God and men, the medicine for passions, the remedy for the diseases of the soul, the calmer of the mind, the celestial guide; it does not turn about the earth, but proceeds to the vault of heaven itself. ^A It leaps over creatures, it cuts through the air intellectually, it journeys above the air, it passes the dances of the stars, it opens the gates of heaven, it becomes higher than the angels, it passes by the thrones and dominions, it makes its way through the Cherubim, and having become above every created nature, it arrives at the inaccessible Trinity itself. There it worships the Godhead; there it is accounted worthy to become a companion of the heavenly King. By means of it the soul, raised aloft to the heavens, embraces the Lord with ineffable embraces, crying out like an infant to its own mother with tears, longing for the divine milk; it asks for its own desires, and receives gifts greater than every visible nature.

^B For prayer stands as a venerable messenger before God; it gladdens the soul, it rests the mind, it begets the fear of punishment, the desire for the kingdom of heaven; it teaches humility, it provides the knowledge of sin; in a word, it adorns man with all good things, while wrapping around the soul the whole nature of virtue like a certain variegated garment. This also bestowed Samuel upon Anna, and appointed him a prophet of the Lord; this also made Elias the zealot of the Lord, and became the guide for the descent of the heavenly fire upon the sacrifice. For when the priests of Baal had invoked their idol all day long, he lifted up his voice with a pure mind, and having cried out with heart and mouth, he brought down fire from heaven, a testimony to a just prayer. For like a certain eagle swooping down upon the altar, with the swiftness of his nature he consumed everything. This indeed the great servant of God, Elias the zealot, ^C achieved, leading us to spiritual things through the lessons of those times, that we too, crying out to God from the heart, may urge the ineffable fire of the Spirit to descend upon the altar of our heart, for this reason becoming a perfect whole burnt-offering to the Lord.

Prayer also made Moses the lawgiver a reconciler of God for Israel, and set up trophies against the adversaries for the Israelites. By prayer also Josue, the son of Nun, commanded the great and most brilliant star in the heavens, the sun—which was then dividing the mid-pole of the heaven—to stand still in that same place for the space of a day. So much did the Lord give it the primacy among all commandments, ^D that he would flee from cities and villages, and from his own disciples, and retreat into the deserts for the sake of prayer, so that, far from human tumults and disturbances, [he might remain alone with God].

and of his own disciples, fleeing to the deserts for the sake of prayer, so that, away from the tumults and disturbances of men, he might in that silence hold communion with great desire, teaching us at the same time that he who professes such a way of life must take up ^A in desert places, and do such things with undivided attention. By prayer it was that the great assembly of the apostles was deemed worthy to receive the Paraclete today; and for this reason I was compelled to speak to you of it today. Prayer, while the body lies upon the earth, carries the soul up to that heavenly fountain, and filling it with that draught, makes it within itself a fountain of water leaping up to eternal life. It gives true assurance of things to come, bestowing a knowledge of the goods there better than faith, opening hidden, invisible, dark treasures, showing you the adversary; it cuts through the arrays of the foreigners, destroys the opposing powers, and leads you to the King himself. When I say prayer, do not think it is mere words. It is desire toward God, an ineffable love, not worked by men, but operating by divine grace, concerning which even the Apostle says: "For what we should pray for as we ought we do not know, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." (Rom. viii, 26).

If the Lord grants such prayer to anyone, it is an inalienable wealth and a heavenly food that satisfies the soul; he who has tasted it possesses an eternal desire for the Lord, which, like some vehement fire, inflames his heart. When you perform this fundamentally, with gentleness and a humble heart, paint your house, brighten it with the light of justice; with good works, as with some choice plate, adorn your own house, and instead of walls and mosaics, decorate it with faith and magnanimity; and above all, place prayer upon it as a roof for the perfection of the house, so that you may prepare your own house perfect for the Master, and receive the Lord as in a royal and glorious house, as if possessing him already established as a statue in the temple of the soul through his grace, for to him be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY VII.

Terrible is the trumpet of the apostolic command, ^D which, while it clearly testifies to the camp of piety in many other things, most of all drives it away from the pits of disgrace, and indeed adds a military command at the end: “Flee,” he says, “fornication; every sin that a man does is outside the body.” For soldiers in wars of sensation, sometimes employing face-to-face conflict and sometimes flight, devise their battle lines. There is also a war for souls, conducted by resistance and flight; and Paul, knowing this, the leader of the tactics of piety,

^A conducts the army through both types of stratagem; and now he commands perseverance in the fight, saying, "Stand, having girt your loins with truth," 17 and now he counsels that one should fight by a wise flight: "Flee fornication." If a war of unbelief breaks out, resistance to it is useful; if a line of battle is threatened by traps, a beautiful vigil ^B is at hand against these antagonisms; if the bow of slander is brought to bear, a profitable meeting of the attack against the lie is needed. But when a form of fornication shoots its arrows anywhere, it is good to turn one's back and flee in the opposite direction. For fornication strikes straight at the eyes, and one must remember the commander who commands: "Flee fornication." For it has something more to be fled than other wicked deeds. For the other evils of sin seem to spare the flesh of those who perform the evil, and the deed is fixed only upon the one who receives the action: as in robberies, the loss is only for those who are robbed; in the power of envies, the passion breaks out against those who are envied; in slanders, whenever they find belief, the danger is again only for those who are slandered; in the daring deeds of murder likewise, the misfortune is for the one who has received the slaughter. If one were to examine every action of unjust deeds, he will find the side of those who do injustice gaining, while the side of those who suffer injustice is harmed; but fornication knows no such division. Nor does it separate the action of the one who suffers from that of the one who commits it, but it drags them both together to a common shame, and binds them with a bond of defilement. For the greedy, it is possible to have harmed another without being harmed oneself at all, but for the fornicators, it is not possible to have shamed the body without having been shamed together with the person who was shamed. For those who have murdered, it is possible for them to have committed the murder without having been murdered along with those who were slaughtered, but for the fornicators, it is not possible to have defiled the flesh without ^C being defiled by the defilement. And look with me at the precise reasoning of Paul in this matter: "Flee," he says, "fornication." Why? "Because every sin that a human being does is outside the body," that is, it does not harm the nature of the body, does not consist in an insult to the limbs, is not completed by the defilement of the flesh, but is performed outside the harm to the body of the one who has acted. "But he who commits fornication sins against his own body," not like the murderer against another, preserving his own body unwounded, not like the greedy person against another, avoiding the harm of his own flesh, but the fornicator is his own destroyer, he is himself pierced ^D by his own arrow of disgrace. The thief, in order to nourish his body, dares the transgression, but the fornicator conducts robbery upon his own flesh. The greedy person is incited to robbery by a covetous calculation, but fornication is a loss of the dignity of the body. For the envious person, the passion is prepared because another is praised, but the fornicator is the author of his own disgrace. For what is more disgracing

^A than the servitude of sin? It dishonors the nobility of the soul. But the fornicator is a more disgraced slave, appointed to draw up mire, to gather a heap of pollution, to perform a filthy task, to wallow in the mud of pleasures, to be ground down in filth, having a body not differing from a rag. For what difference is there between a rag and a fornicator? It is that he has been severed from the body of piety. He is corrupted by a daily rot in the ways of sin; he is cast away like a useless rag; he lies as a footstool for demons; into him ^B the devil wipes his own rot. But the intellectual evil of the fornicator is manifest and clear, and does not change. For he is to be avoided by families, shunned in social gatherings, an insult to those who approach him, a reproach to his enemies, a shame to his relatives, accursed to those who live with him, a source of discouragement to parents, a laughing-stock to his servants, a story for his neighbors; when he seeks to marry, he is rejected; as a newly wedded husband, he is suspected; as a father, he is hated by his children; as a counselor, he is despised; as a benefactor, he is unpleasing; when he asks for something, he is even more unpleasing; when seen from afar, he is burdensome; when ill, he is an object of pity; when dead, he is more deeply dishonored. ^C Witnessing fornication as the mother of such a multitude of evils, Paul, proclaiming to us the victorious flight, cried out: "Flee fornication."

The voice of Paul now brings to my mind a chaste young man who overcame the Egyptian fornication by flight, although many things prepared enticements for the youth: an age that loves pleasure, the yoke of slavery, the amorous flattery of a mistress, constant conversation, and secret exhortations to sexual intercourse. For it happened, he says, that on a certain day, Joseph went into the house to do his work, and there was no one of the people in the house inside. And his mistress laid hold of his garments, saying: "Lie with me." ^D Great is the dignity of temperance: it made the mistress of the slave a slave; for he was being entreated, and she was entreating: "Lie with me." The shaft of fornication was inflamed, but it found no fuel in his soul; rather it was broken against the garment, which the impudent lover, grasping, cried out: "Lie with me." She bellowed the famine of meretricious desire, but he closed all the more the ears of temperance; for she kept saying: "Lie with me," but temperance cried back to the youth: "Watch with me," and by his deeds he manifested his vigilance. For his constancy did not doze off at her flatteries, his mind did not fall asleep at her enchantments, the sobriety of temperance did not slumber; it was not loosed by the grasp that held it, it was not snared by the beauties of her form, it was not broken by the coaxing of her amorous words; but to him, the voice of the mistress flattering him, "Lie with me," was more bitter than a rebuke. The devil stood ready as the matchmaker of the adultery, and together with the adulteress he was grasping the garment, and he was an associate of the impulses made by her; but he did not know that he was wrestling with a skilled athlete of temperance, and well-skilled in

stripping away her holds. For, he says, having left his garments in her hands, he fled and went outside naked. ^A O nakedness more holy than a garment! What then is the madness of the Egyptian licentiousness? She casts her own evils upon Joseph, and running to her husband, says: "You brought to us a Hebrew boy to mock us; and he said to me, 'I will lie with your wife, who has until now kept your bed chaste.' But when I raised my voice and cried out, he left his garment with me and fled and went outside." Once again Joseph is slandered through his garment. Just as his brothers ^B formerly, having taken his tunic, maliciously slandered him as one devoured by a wild beast, so now she, having taken the tunic, accuses him as a fornicator. A voice befitting Joseph, that of the Master: *They have divided my garments among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.* (Ps. xxii, 18). The history of temperance is sweet to the army of the temperate, but grievous to the weakness of the flesh. O how just is the protection of Joseph by God! He did not honor Joseph before the temptations, but revealed the future through dreams, teaching that He had long since prepared glory for the righteous; yet He allowed the youth to be illuminated by temptations, cutting short the voices of those who slander. For if Joseph had not given a display of virtue, the slanderers would have wished to say that these things were accomplished by blind chance. ^C Does Joseph rule over the Egyptians? Does a mere boy command barbarians? What kind of virtue had he received? By what virtue had he attained these things? Therefore, so that these things might not be said of the just man, God decreed temptations for him beforehand, so that testimonies to the righteous man might come from them, and that they might sew up the mouths of the slanderers. Let us then turn away from the arrows that are hurled at us by a harlot's form; let us close the eye to lusts; let immoderate pleasures be derided by us; let temperance guard the flesh; let purity dwell in our members; let us be eager for honorable senses; let us shine with the splendors of works; let us shine forth with a polished life; let us guard a pure body, the temple of the dwelling of the Spirit. Let us inscribe ^D upon it this inscription, a terrible warning to the incontinent, crying out: *If anyone destroys the temple of God, God will destroy him.* (1 Cor. iii, 17).

I wished not to be separated from you even for a short time. For what is more sweet to a father than the company of beloved children? But because the word of piety calls us to contests, it is necessary for me to run to the arena of the Church, taking prayers as companions of my work. But this I beg of your love: preserve the good order of the Church, and if any in the meantime stir up tumults, overcome the tumults with greatness of soul. For there will be, in a short time, a change of the tumults for the better. Do not be disturbed by rumors, do not be swayed by prattle, but send with us prayers as fellow-travelers, so that, being strengthened by your prayers...

strengthened by your prayers, let us say at every moment, assisted by divine strength: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

HOMILY VIII

^C Often, when I count up the goods of life to myself, and find the creation full of many things from every side, and providing ten thousand goods for the human race, I find nothing more excellent than the cultivation of a pure soul, nor anything more becoming to human nature. For what wealth is so becoming to humanity as an abundance of pious hopes? Who is so brilliant from power as one who is honored by the King of all things in his own judgment? What pleasure from luxury is as great as one who is feasted with the life-giving teachings of a conscience? Whatever good you might bring into the middle, you would find no man so honored as one who is dignified by a godly mind.

^D For there is a communion of other goods with the irrational creatures as well as with us; for instance, the beautiful enjoyment of a sunbeam, but it is available to the beasts also; the good provision of food, but there is a share of these for them as well; the lovely graces of beauty, but you could find beauty gleaming also among birds; the much-fabled gift of strength, but this is also an advantage for oxen; the much-desired accumulation of wealth, but you might see even oysters wealthy with treasures of pearls. Not one of our carnal boasts is such that the nature of irrational creatures does not share in it; not one of our bodily advantages is worse than theirs. And in one thing alone there is an allowance to them compared to us; by one single advantage are they surpassed by us. What, then, is this? By the dignity of the mind, through which man is similar to God, using his mind as a governor of existing things, administering the affairs of creation with his intellect, traversing the heaven with his reason, bringing under control that which is subject to him with his cognitive power, guiding with wisdom the unruly and difficult nature of the sea, preserving the things that grow through his providence, pointing out the phenomena through his knowledge, ruling over the craftsmanship of existing things as the Creator does. And God, manifesting these things from the beginning concerning us, proclaimed: "Let us make man according to our image." And fearsome is the honor of the image, and loving to mankind; fearsome indeed as an image of a terrifying archetype. ^B For the danger is not small, lest one should incur offense by staining the image with the smudge of sin; but it is loving to mankind, as a great gift before struggles, which the Creator prepared for us before our birth. "Let us make," He says, "man according to our image." Before our formation we are honored with care. For when God was creating all things that are, He kept the power of a ruler, and created the whole nature of visible things from a command, speaking imperatively to those things which were not: "Let there be light," "Let there be a firmament," "Let there be lights for illumination," "Let the waters bring forth creeping things having living souls," "Let the earth bring forth four-footed animals according to its kind."

^A When it was necessary to create man, He set aside the One who commands, and assumed the role of the Artificer; setting aside the One who disposes the composition of beings, He considered the generation of man, setting aside the word to the earth, "Bring forth man!" As if He were unable to create man alone, He invites associates to the molding, and cries out as if in need of assistants: "Let us make." Not because He truly needed study for the craft, nor because He really needed assistants for the formation, but by the simulation of study and assistance, He intended to show that He was molding a race that was cared for by Him above all and was of great importance. ^B Indeed, in this honor and instruction, something regarding piety for our race is hidden. For He excluded the entire creation from being made into a god, having handed it over to the image of His own monarchy; for everything that bears the image of a king is considered great. Second, "Let us make man according to our image"; and while foreseeing his lack of reason, He did not dull the love; for it was not right that the sun should not shine for the sake of those blind to its beams. For this reason, even foreseeing the transgression, He did not withdraw his love, and foreknowing the insolence, He did not withhold the grace, loving those who were being molded, so that even if he should learn, as if for a time, to be free from insatiability; and ^C that He might give God an occasion for a second gift toward the beginning of an eternal one. For death is a terrible corrective for insatiability. For what profit is there in the vast collection of things for him who will shortly lie in the ground? For him who traverses life as a path, the carrying of superfluous burdens is useless. For we possess life as a path, not as a fatherland. Thus the Lord calls it in the Gospels: "Be kindly disposed to your adversary while you are on the road with him." The term "road" is apt for life; for life is measured out ^D just as a road is, with intervals. It is a temporary inn for the rich and the poor, a rest for those passing through that lasts but a short time; for our days pass away like a shadow. Where are the first years of our life? They have passed away like the phantom of a shadow, they have fled like the outline of a shape. How much space of our remaining life is left to us? Suppose a most noble age of many years, a life of a hundred years; or if you wish, grant a triple number of years, and you will provide no stability to any of these things that pertain to life; even if one boasts in wealth, or is swamped in luxury, or shines in the height of thrones, or carries about anything else of the bright things of life. For all things are like the withered flowers, all things are liable to mournful succession, and are unstable even in the time when they bloom; for it possesses fear of dangers throughout. Wealth is anxious about robberies, luxury is dangerous to diseases, there are changes in dominions; and having wrestled with multiform dangers and having been worn out by myriad anxieties, it has death lying in wait for it—an opponent unbreakable, indescribable in place, unbribable by gifts, implacable to lamentations, a sudden snatcher. He who was yesterday in...