Homilies on Lazarus

Delivered at Antioch after the Calends, on the following day, against the drunkards, and concerning those who go into taverns and those who celebrate dances in the city; and further, that it is not fitting for a teacher to despair of his students, even if they do not obey for the present; and concerning the poor man Lazarus and the rich man.

^A I. Yesterday’s day, which was a Satanic festival, you made a spiritual festival, having received with much favor the words from us, and having spent the greater part of the day here, and having been drunken with a drunkenness full of sobriety, and having danced with Paul. Double, therefore, the gain has become for you, because you both departed from the disorderly dance of the drunkards and danced spiritual leaps [708] possessing great decorum; and you partook of a cup, not pouring forth unmixed wine, but one filled with spiritual teaching; and you became as a flute and a lyre to the Holy Spirit; and instead of the others dancing for the devil, you, having made yourselves spiritual instruments and vessels, through your lingering here, gave the Spirit [the power] to strike your souls, and to breathe His own grace into your hearts: whence also you sounded a melody in perfect harmony, gladdening not only men, but also the powers above.

Come then, today also, let us arm the tongue against drunkenness, and let us cast down the liquid and flowing life; let us accuse those who spend their day in it, not that we might shame them, but that we might rid them of shame; not that we might reproach them, but that we might correct them; not that we might parade them, but that we might lead them away from an unseemly procession, and rescue them from the hands of the devil; for he who spends his day in drunkenness, and luxury, and gluttony, has become subject to the very tyranny of the devil. And would that something more might come from our words! But if, perchance, they persist in the same things even after the exhortation, not even so shall we depart from the counsel to them; for the springs, even if no one draws from them, flow; and the sources, even if no one dips from them, well up; and the rivers, even if no one drinks, run. It behooves, therefore, both the speaker, even if no one pays attention, to fulfill all things on his part.

For a law has been laid down for us who have been entrusted with the ministry of the word, by the philanthropic God, never to omit things on our part, nor to be silent, even if someone listens, even if he passes by. Jeremiah, at least, since he was threatening many things to the Jews, and proclaiming beforehand the terrible things that were to come, was mocked by his hearers, and was laughed at through the whole day, once decided to depart from that prophecy, having suffered something human, and not having been able to bear the taunts and the reproaches. And hear him declaring this through what he says: "I became a laughingstock all the day. I said: I will not speak, nor will I name the name of the Lord. And it became in me as a fire burning and inflaming within my bones; I am exhausted on all sides, and I cannot bear it." What he says is of this kind: "I decided to depart from the prophecy," he says, "since the Jews did not hear; and as soon as I decided this, like a fire into my soul fell the energy of the Spirit, and was burning all things within, consuming my bones, and eating away so that I could not bear that burning." If, then, that man who was laughed at and mocked and daily reproached, when he decided to keep silence, underwent such punishment, of what forgiveness would we be worthy, having suffered nothing of the sort as yet, but because of the sloth of some having become fainthearted, and having departed from the teaching to them, especially when there are so many who pay attention?

[709] II. I say these things, not comforting myself, nor encouraging myself; for I have persuaded my own soul, as long as I breathe, and it seems good to God that we be in the present life, to fulfill this ministry, and whether one pays attention, or whether he does not pay attention, to do what has been commanded; but since there are some who slacken the hands of many, and besides bringing nothing useful to our life to it, even paralyzing the zeal of others, mocking and making a comedy of them, and saying: "Stop counseling, cease exhorting; they do not wish to pay attention to you, have nothing in common with them": since there are some who say these things, wishing to cut out this wicked and inhuman opinion and diabolical plot from the soul of many, I make this discourse longer. For I know that yesterday many said these words, who, when they saw some lingering in a tavern, laughing and mocking, were saying: "For they were very much persuaded! Not a single person entered a tavern; everyone became sober."

What do you say, man? For did we promise to catch everyone in one day? For if we persuaded ten only, if we persuaded five only, if one, is not this [sufficiently]

^A for our consolation? But I go even to a greater extreme: let it be supposed that no one has been persuaded by our words—which is impossible, for a word sown into so many hearing ears never to become fruitless—but let this be supposed: even so, the word is not without profit for us. For even if they entered a tavern, they did not enter with the same shamelessness, but even at their tables they often remembered our words, of the rebuke, of the correction, and remembering, they felt shame, they blushed in their minds; they did not perform their customary acts with the same audacity. And this is the beginning of salvation and the best transformation, to be ashamed at all, to condemn one’s own actions at all. In addition to these things, no less another profit has accrued to us from this. What is this? To make even those who are temperate more solemn, and to persuade them through the things that have been said that they have taken the best counsel of all, by not being led away together with the many. Did I not raise up the sick? But I made the healthy more secure; did the word not lead some away from wickedness? But it made those living in virtue more precise. Shall I mention a third thing in addition to these? I did not persuade them today? But perhaps I shall be able to persuade them tomorrow. But not even tomorrow? But after tomorrow, or perhaps after that. He who heard and evaded today, perhaps tomorrow will hear and accept; but he who despised today and tomorrow, perhaps after many days will pay attention to the things being said. For a fisherman too, having drawn up his net empty throughout the whole day, in the evening, when he ^B is often about to depart, having caught the fish that had escaped him all day long, has departed. But if we were to be in idleness because of the persistent failures that occur and to desist from all things, our whole life would perish; and not spiritual things only, but even all worldly things would vanish. For indeed the farmer, if he were to leap away from farming because of the irregularities of the seasons occurring once, and twice, and often, we would all quickly perish of hunger. And the pilot too, if because of a winter that happened once, and twice, and often he were to flee the sea, the open sea would be unusable to us, and from this, life would again become useless. And if, going through every craft, you were to advise and counsel these things, all would perish at the root, and the earth would be uninhabited. Which things, therefore, all men knowing, even if once, even if twice, even if often they fail of the end of the things in which they are and occupy themselves, they take them up again with the same zeal.

γ'. All these things, therefore, we too knowing, beloved, let us not, I beg you, speak these things, nor let us say: "What need have we of so many words? No benefit comes from these words." For the farmer, having sown the same field once and twice and often, and having failed of the profit, again ^C works the same, and often in one year he redeemed the loss of the whole time. And the merchant too, having endured many shipwrecks often, did not depart from the harbor, but even launched a ship, and hired sailors, and having borrowed money, he touched the same affairs, even though the future was likewise unknown. And each of those practicing anything whatsoever are accustomed to doing so, just as the farmer and the merchant. Then they, indeed, use such great zeal toward worldly things, even though the end is unknown, but we, if we speak and are not heard, shall we immediately desist? And what excuse shall we have? Or what defense? Although for them, in their failures, there is no one to comfort them in the loss, as for instance, if the sea should inundate the ship, no one will set right the poverty of the one suffering shipwreck; if a deluge covers the field and drowns the seeds, it is necessary for the farmer to return home with empty hands. But in our case—who speak and advise—it is not so. But even if you cast the seeds, and the hearer does not receive them, nor bring forth the fruit of the hearing, you have your reward completed by God for the counsel, and you shall receive as great a recompense, even with that man disobeying, as you would have received if he had obeyed; for you have fulfilled everything that was yours. For the persuading of those who hear we are not responsible, but for the advising alone; for the advising is ours, but the being persuaded is theirs. And just as if, even when we have not advised 711, they should accomplish ten thousand good things, the whole reward will lie with them alone, and for us there will be no profit, since we have not advised; so if, when we have advised, they do not pay attention, all the punishment will overtake them, and for us there will be no charge, but even much reward will encounter us from God; for we have fulfilled everything that was ours. We are commanded only to cast the silver to the bankers, to speak and to advise. Speak, therefore, and advise your brother. But he did not listen? But you have your reward completed, only if you always do this, if you never desist, until you persuade, until you inspire. Let the limit of the counsel be the obedience of the one receiving the advice. The devil always runs against our salvation, profiting nothing himself, but also being greatly harmed by the effort; but nevertheless, he has such madness that he ^D often attempts impossible tasks and sets upon not only those whom he expects to trip up and overthrow in every way, but also those who are likely to prevail over his machinations. The holy Job, therefore, hearing that he was praised by God who knows all hidden things, he expected to be able even to overthrow him; and the deceitful one did not desist, moving and contriving everything so as to trip up the man; and he did not despair, the small and most wicked demon, although of the...

God had granted to the righteous man such virtue. Are we then not ashamed, do we not blush, tell me, if, when the devil never despairs of our destruction, but always expects it, we ourselves despair of the salvation of our brethren? And yet, even before his trial, it was necessary for that man to be removed from the struggles; for it was God who was testifying to the virtue of the righteous man; and yet, the devil did not desist, but through the great madness he held against us, and even after the testimony of God, he hoped to overcome that noble man of that time. But we have nothing of the sort that leads us to fall into despair, and yet we desist. And the devil, although God forbids it, does not withdraw from the struggle against us; but do you, even when God urges and rouses you to the assistance of those who have fallen, leap away? The devil heard God saying: "A man righteous, true, God-fearing, abstaining from every evil matter, and that there is no one like him upon the earth." And even after such and so many verdicts he still remained, saying: "Might I, through the persistence and magnitude of the evils brought upon him, be able to overcome him, and to tear down this great tower?" ^A

If, however, this discourse seems paradoxical to you, come, let us prove it from what Christ did and said. For we humans do not know the future, and therefore we cannot assert anything concerning those who hear us, whether they will be persuaded or whether they will disobey the things said by us; but Christ, knowing both of these things clearly, did not cease to correct the one who would not listen to him until the end. ^B

For instance, knowing that Judas would not desist from his betrayal, he did not cease, through counsels, through exhortations, through good deeds, through threats, through every mode of instruction, to restrain him from the betrayal, and, like a bridle, he was continually checking him through his word. He does this, indeed, to instruct us that, even if we are foreknowing that our brethren will not be persuaded, we must fulfill all that is on our part, as the reward for the counsel is already complete for us. And see how continually and wisely he checked him, through the things he said: "One of you will betray me." And again: "I do not speak concerning you all; I know whom I have chosen." And again: "One of you is a devil." And he endured keeping everyone in anxiety, so as not to expose the traitor and make him yet more shameless by the obviousness of the rebukes. For that these words cast anxiety and fear upon the others, even though they were conscious of no evil in themselves, hear how each one, in anxiety, said: "Is it I, Lord?" He instructed him not only through words but also through deeds. For since he had displayed his own love for mankind many times and through everything—cleansing lepers, casting out demons, healing the sick, raising the dead, strengthening the paralyzed—he had benefited everyone but had punished no one, and he was continually saying, "I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world," so that Judas might not think that Christ knew only how to do good but not how to punish—he taught him this aspect too, namely, that he is able to punish and to take vengeance on those who sin. ^C

§ 4. What excuse then, beloved, will we have, what defense, if, when the wicked demon uses such madness against us, we do not contribute even a hundredth part of such zeal for the salvation of our own brethren, even when we have God as our ally? Whenever, therefore, you see your brother hardened and unyielding, and not attending to you, say to yourself: "Might we be able to persuade him in time?" Paul also commanded this to be done: "The servant of the Lord must not fight, but be gentle toward all, instructing with patience those who oppose, in case God may grant them repentance to the knowledge of the truth." Do you not see the fathers, how often, when they have been given up on by their sons, they sit by them weeping, lamenting, kissing them, contributing all they can until their very last breath? Do this also yourself concerning your brother. And yet, those [fathers] cannot, through their laments and tears, drive away the sickness nor push back the death that has approached; but you, through your perseverance and assiduousness, can often, through your laments and tears, draw back and raise up a soul that has been given up on. Have you given advice and not persuaded him? Weep and rebuke him often; sigh bitterly, so that he, feeling ashamed of your concern, may turn back to salvation. "What will I alone be able to do?" For I am unable to meet with all of you every day, nor am I enough to talk to such a multitude alone. ^D

But you, if you were to wish to distribute the salvation of one another, and each one to take back one of the neglected brethren, our building would quickly increase. And what need is there to speak of those who, after much exhortation, win themselves back? For one must not depart from or neglect even those who are suffering from incurable sickness; even if we are sure, knowing clearly that, after enjoying much zeal and counsel, they will gain nothing more.

§ 5. And see how wisely and fittingly he [Christ] instructed this one, and did not endure to punish or take vengeance on any human. How then? So that the disciple might learn his punishing power. For if he had punished someone, he would have seemed to be contradicting himself when he said: "I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world." Again, if he had punished no one, the disciple would remain uncorrected, not learning through deeds his punishing power. What then so that it might come to pass?

So that the disciple might also be afraid and, by not despising him, become worse, and that no human might be struck or endure punishment and vengeance, Christ demonstrates this power in the fig tree, saying: "May no fruit come from you henceforth," and by a bare word he withered it immediately. For thus both all humans remained unharmed, and he himself demonstrated his own power, with the plant receiving the punishment. And if the disciple had paid attention, he would have reaped great benefit from this punishment.

But even so, he was not corrected. Yet Christ, even foreknowing this, did not do only this, but also something else much greater than this besides. For when the Jews set upon him, having armed their hands with swords and clubs against him, he then blinded them all; for the saying, "Whom seek you?" was meant to show this. For since Judas was saying continually, "What will you give me, and I will deliver him to you?" the Lord, wishing both to convince the Jews and to teach that one, that He comes willingly to the Passion, and that the whole matter is His—with no cunning of that man being able to prevail over Him, with the traitor himself standing among them all—says, "Whom seek you?" In this way he would not have known whom he was going to betray, but He blinded his sight; and not only this, but He also threw them all on their backs by means of this voice. And since not even this made them more lenient, nor turned that wretch away from his betrayal, but he remained incurable, yet even so Christ did not cease from the goodwill and care for him; but see how in a most convicting way He fastens upon his shameless soul, and utters words ^A sufficient to soften even a heart of stone. For since he pressed forward to kiss Him, what does He say? "Judas, do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?" Does not even the form of the betrayal cause you shame? These things Christ was saying, striking at him and reminding him of their former intimacy. But yet, although the Lord had both done and said so much, that man did not become better, not due to the weakness of the one giving counsel, but due to his own sloth. Christ, though foreknowing all these things, did not cease from beginning to end to demonstrate all that was in His power. As we know all these things, beloved, we ought to continually and always regulate and love our neglected brethren, even if no profit comes from the counsel. For if He who knows the end will be such, used such care for one who was not going to reap ^B any fruit from this admonition, what forgiveness would we be worthy of, when we, not even knowing the outcome of events, are so slothful regarding the salvation of our neighbors, abandoning them after a first or second counsel?

And with all that has been said, let us also consider our own state, that every day God speaks to us through the prophets, through the apostles, and every day we are inattentive; and yet He does not desist, both speaking and always exhorting those who are rebellious and paying no heed. And Paul cries out saying, "We are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us: we implore you on Christ's behalf, be reconciled to God." For if one must also say something marvelous, not so much is the one who foreknows that the one who receives the counsel will surely be persuaded, and thus counsels, worthy of praise, as the one who has often spoken and counseled and failed, yet does not desist even so. For the former is aroused to admonition by the hope of being persuaded ^C when he sees the hearer, even if he were the dullest of all; but this one, who continually counsels and is ignored, and then does not desist, demonstrates a proof of most fervent and most genuine love, feeding on no such hope, but only by his affection for the one who hears him, not ceasing in his care for his brother. But that we ought never to cease from those who have fallen, even if we know beforehand that they will not be persuaded by us, has been sufficiently demonstrated. But it is necessary henceforth to proceed to the accusation of those who live in luxury. For as long as this feast stands, and the devil works the sores of drunkenness in the souls of those who are drunk, it is necessary for us to apply the medicines.

6. Yesterday, therefore, we fortified them with Paul, who says: "Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." But today we shall show them Paul's Master, not only exhorting and counseling to abstain from luxury, but also punishing and taking vengeance on him who lives in luxury. For the history of the ^D rich man and Lazarus, and of the things that happened to each, demonstrates nothing other than this. Or rather, so that we do not do this in a cursory manner, I shall read the parable to you from the beginning. "There was a certain rich man, and he was clothed in purple and fine linen, faring sumptuously every day; but there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, who was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table; but even the dogs came and licked his sores." For what reason the Master spoke in parables, and why He solved some of the parables and did not solve others, and what the parable is, and suchlike things, we shall store up for another time, so as not to depart from the urgent word now; but for the meantime we shall say this to you only: who is it among the evangelists who said that Christ spoke this parable? Who then is it? Luke alone. For it is necessary to know this also, that of the things said, some were told by all four, while others each recorded on his own. For what reason? So that the reading of the other things might become necessary for us, and the excellence of the agreement might be manifest. For if all said all things, we would not pay attention to all with diligence, one being sufficient to teach the whole; but if all had said everything differently, the excellence of the agreement would not have appeared. For this reason they all wrote many things in common, and each recorded others on his own. What Christ teaches through the parable is this. A certain man, he says, was rich, living with much wickedness, receiving no experience of misfortune, but everything flowed to him as if from fountains. For that nothing unexpected happened to him, nor any cause for despondency, nor any worldly instability, this very thing was implied by the saying that he "fared sumptuously every day." And that wickedness lived with him is clear both from the outcome that befell him, and before the outcome, from the disdain that occurred regarding the poor man. For that not only that man who was in

^A the gateway, but that he did not pity anyone else, he himself showed. For if the man who was continually thrown before the gateway, and lying before his eyes, whom he was forced to see every day—and once, and twice, and many times—as he went in and out (for he did not lie in some crossroads, or in some hidden and narrow place, but where the rich man was making his continuous comings and goings, he was forced to see him against his will). If, then, he did not pity this man, who was lying in such a grievous affliction and living in such destitution—or rather, wasting away with an infirmity throughout his whole life, and a most grievous infirmity—to whom of those he chanced upon would he ever have been moved? For even if he bypassed him on the first day, it was likely he would be affected by the second; but if he neglected him even on this one, then the third, or the fourth, or the one after that, he surely must have been affected, even if he were wilder than the beasts.

But he suffered nothing of the sort; instead, he became even more audacious and heartless than that judge who neither feared God nor respected men. For the persistence of the widow—even though she was a woman and uncouth—convinced that judge to grant the favor and moved him to yield to her petition; but not even this was able to move this man to help the poor man. Yet the request was not equal, but this one was much easier and more just. The one was calling upon him against her enemies, but this man was asking him to relieve his hunger and not to disregard him as he perished. And she was troublesome to the judge by asking, but this man often appeared to the rich man lying in silence; and this is much more capable of softening even a heart of stone. For when we are often troubled, we are provoked; but when we see those who need help standing by in deep silence, and saying nothing, but on the contrary, always failing to obtain it, yet not feeling resentment, but appearing to us merely in silence, even if we were more senseless than the stones themselves, we are moved by being shamed by his degree of gentleness. And there was something else in addition to these things, no less than these: that the very appearance of the poor man was pitiable, worn down by hunger and long-term infirmity. But nevertheless, none of this softened that inhuman man.

^B 7. The first vice, then, is this hardness and inhumanity, which has no degree of excess. For it is not the same thing to not help those in need while one is living in poverty, as it is, while enjoying such luxury, to disregard others who are wasting away from hunger. Again, it is not the same thing, having seen a beggar once or twice, to pass him by, as it is, while seeing him every day, not to be stirred toward mercy and humanity by the constant sight of his condition. Again, it is not the same to be unable to help one’s neighbors while one is involved in own’s own troubles and sorrows and suffering in one’s soul, as it is, while enjoying such joy and continuous prosperity, to disregard others who are wasting away from hunger, and to close one’s bowels of compassion, and not even to become more humane through that very joy. For you know, surely, that even if we are wilder than all, we are naturally inclined to become more gentle and kind through prosperity. But that man did not become better even through his well-being; instead, he remained a beast, or rather, he hid in his ways the cruelty and inhumanity of every beast. ^C But, however, the one who lived in wickedness and inhumanity enjoyed every prosperity, while the just man, devoted to virtue, was in the direst of evils. For that Lazarus was just, the end proved even here, and before the end, his very endurance in poverty. Do you not think you see these things as if they were present? The ship of the rich man’s trade was full, and he was sailing with a fair wind. But do not marvel; he was hastening toward a shipwreck, since he did not wish to dispose of his cargo with reverence. Do you want me to tell you another of his vices? That he feasted safely every day. For this, too, is a most extreme vice—not now, when we are required to have such philosophy, but even in the beginning under the Old Testament, when there was no such display of philosophy. Hear, then, what the prophet says: "Woe to those who approach the evil day, those who draw near and take hold of false sabbaths." What is "those who take hold of false sabbaths"?

The Jews think that the Sabbath was given to them for idleness. But this is not the cause, but rather so that, having detached themselves from worldly matters, they might expend all their leisure on spiritual things. For that the Sabbath is not for idleness, but is a matter of spiritual work, is clear from the very deeds themselves. The priest, at any rate, performs a double work on that day; and whereas a single sacrifice is offered every day, he is commanded to offer a double one then. If, indeed, the Sabbath were for total idleness, the priest ought to have been idle before all others. Since, therefore, the Jews, having been released from worldly affairs, did not pay attention to spiritual things, to temperance and gentleness and the hearing of divine oracles, but did the opposite—gluttonizing, getting drunk, bursting with gluttony, living in luxury—on this account the prophet rebuked them. For having said, "Woe to those who approach the evil day," and having added, "those who take hold of false sabbaths," he showed through what follows how their sabbaths were false. How, then, did they make them false? By working wickedness, living in luxury, getting drunk, and doing ten thousand most shameful and grievous things. And that this is true, hear what follows. For he shows what I am saying through what he immediately adds and says: "Those who sleep on ivory beds, and live luxuriously on their couches, who eat kids from the flocks, and tender calves from the herds, who drink strained wine, and anoint themselves with the finest ^D perfumes." You received the Sabbath so that you might free your soul from wickedness; but you perform it even more. For what could be worse than this sloth, or lying on ivory beds? Other sins may perhaps have some small pleasure, such as drunkenness, or greed and debauchery; but to lie on ivory beds, what pleasure does it have? What consolation? For does the beauty of the bed make sleep more sweet or pleasant for us? On the contrary, this is rather most burdensome and oppressive, if one possesses a mind.

For when you consider that, while you are sleeping upon an ivory bed, another does not even have the freedom to satisfy himself with bread, will not your conscience condemn you, and rise up to accuse you of this inequality? And if sleeping upon ivory beds is a crime, what excuse shall we have when they are covered with silver on all sides? Do you want to see the beauty of a bed? I will show you now, not of a private person, nor of a soldier, but the grace of a royal bed. For even if you are the most ambitious of all people, I know well that you would not desire to have a bed more magnificent than the king’s; and what is greater, not the bed of just any king, but of the first, and of him who is more kingly than all kings, and who is still sung of everywhere in the inhabited world; I will show you the bed of the blessed David. What, then, was that bed like? ^B It was not adorned with silver and gold, but on every side with tears and confessions. And he himself says this, speaking thus: “I will wash my bed every night; with my tears I will drench my couch.” For even as pearls, his tears adorned it on every side.

η'. And consider for me a soul that loves God; for since in the day many cares of rulers, 718 of commanders, of nations, of crowds, of soldiers, of wars, of peace, of personal affairs, of those far away, of those near, were dragging him and pulling him away; he spent the leisure which we all consume in sleeping, on confession and prayers and tears. And he did not do this for one night and then stop on the second, nor for two or three and then omit those in between, but he did this every night. “For I will wash my bed every night,” he says, “with my tears I will drench my couch,” showing the abundance of his tears and their continuity. For when all were resting and were in quiet, he alone was holding converse with God at that time; and the unsleeping eye was present to him as he lamented and mourned and told of his own evils. Construct such a bed for yourself, too! For silver when it is wrapped around one, both stirs up envy from men and kindles the wrath from above.

But such tears, like those of David, know how to extinguish even the fire of hell itself. Do you wish that I should show you another bed? I speak of Jacob’s. He had the ground beneath him, and a stone under his head; for this reason, he saw even the intelligible stone, and that ladder by which angels were ascending and descending. Let us also devise such beds, so that we may see such dreams. But if we are lying upon a silver one, we shall not only reap no pleasure, but we shall also endure despondency. For when you consider that, in the depth of winter, in the middle of the night, while you are sleeping on a bed, the poor man is thrown upon a mat in the doorways of the baths, covered with straw, trembling, frozen by the cold, choked by hunger; even if you are more stony than all men, I know well that you will condemn yourself, while you are luxuriating beyond need, and he is not even allowed to enjoy those things according to need. “No one serving as a soldier,” he says, “entangles himself in the affairs of this life.” A spiritual soldier b such as this does not sleep on an ivory bed, but on the ground; he does not anoint himself with perfumes; for such eagerness belongs to those bound in lewdness and corruption, to those of the stage, to those living in indifference; but you must breathe not of perfumes, but of virtue. Nothing is more unclean for a soul than when the body has such a fragrance. For the fragrance of the body and of the garments might be a token of the foulness and impurity within. For when the devil has approached and broken the soul, and filled it with great sluggishness, then he also wipes onto the body the stain of his own corruption by means of perfumes. And just as those who are incessantly caught by some catarrh and running of the nose, soil both their garments and their hands and their face, by constantly wiping away what is flowing through the nostrils; so indeed the soul also wipes onto the body the wickedness of this evil flow. For who will have any noble or good opinion of someone who reeks of perfumes and is effeminate, or rather, who is living the life of a harlot and of a dancer? 719 Let your soul breathe of spiritual fragrance, so that you may benefit both yourself and those who associate with you in the greatest ways.

For nothing, nothing is more difficult than luxury. Hear what Moses says again about it: “The beloved grew fat, became thick, and kicked.” And he did not say that he departed, but, “The beloved kicked,” hinting to us his arrogance and refractoriness. And again elsewhere: “Having eaten and drunk, pay attention to yourself, that you do not forget the Lord your God.” Thus, luxury is wont to lead to forgetfulness. And so, beloved, if you sit at a table, remember that after the table you must pray; and so fill your belly with measure, so that you do not become heavy and find yourself unable to bend the knee and entreat God. Do you not see the beasts of burden, that after the manger they undertake a journey, and carry a load, and fulfill their own service? But you, after the table, become useless and unfit for any work. And how will you not be more dishonorable than the very donkeys? For what reason? Because at that time one must be most sober and watchful. For the time after the table is a time of thanksgiving; and he who gives thanks must not be drunk, but must be sober and watchful. From the table, let us turn not to a bed, but to prayer, so that we do not become more irrational than the irrational animals.

θ'. I know that many will condemn what is said, as if I were introducing some new and strange custom into life; but I will condemn all the more the wicked custom which currently occupies us. For as to the fact that after food and the table, one should not have sleep or beds following, but prayers and the reading of divine Scriptures, Christ made this clearer. For when He had fed the many thousands in the desert, He did not send them to a bed and sleep, but called them to the hearing of divine oracles. For He did not rend their bellies, nor did He cast them into drunkenness, but having satisfied their need, He led them to spiritual food.

Let us also do the same, and train ourselves to eat only so much as is necessary for life, not so much as to be rent apart and weighed down.

For we were not born and do not live in order that we may eat and drink; rather, we eat in order that we may live. Eating was not the primary purpose of life; rather, life was the purpose for eating from the beginning. But we, as if we had come into the world for this reason, consume everything for this end. But let us return again to the narrative of Lazarus, so that the condemnation of luxury may become more acute and may strike effectively at ^A those who live in it. For thus will our exhortation and counsel be more truthful and vivid, when you see those who indulge in gluttony being corrected and chastised not by words, but by facts. The rich man, then, lived with such wickedness, and indulged in luxury every day, and dressed brilliantly, kindling a harsher punishment for himself, and making the fire greater and the judgment 720 for himself inconsolable and the penalty inexcusable.

But the beggar was cast down at his gate, and he did not grow despondent, nor did he blaspheme, nor did he grow angry. He did not say to himself what many say: "What is this? This man, living with wickedness, cruelty, and inhumanity, enjoys all things beyond his need, and does not even endure discouragement or any other of the unexpected things which are so common among men, but enjoys pure pleasure; while I cannot even share in necessary food. But for him, as if from springs, everything flows to him who spends all he has on parasites, flatterers, and drunkenness; while I lie as an example to those who look on—a subject of shame and mockery, wasting away with hunger. Is this providence? Does God look upon human affairs with justice?" He said none of these things, nor did he think them. How is this clear? From the fact that the angels took him up, acting as his escort, and brought him to the bosom ^B of Abraham; for if he were a blasphemer, he would not have enjoyed such honor. In this way, then, the many admire the man only because he was in poverty; but I show that he endured punishments nine in number, not so that he might be punished, but so that he might become brighter—which is indeed what happened.

For poverty is indeed a terrible thing, and those who have experienced it know this; for no speech will be able to represent the pain that those who live in beggary endure, and who do not know how to be philosophical about it. But in the case of Lazarus, it was not only this that was terrible, for sickness was also yoked to him, and that in excess. And see how He shows that each of these calamities had reached its zenith. For that the poverty of Lazarus surpassed all poverty, He showed by saying that he did not even enjoy the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table; and that his sickness had reached the same measure as his poverty—beyond which it was impossible to extend—this too He also showed by saying that the dogs licked his sores. He was so weakened that he could not even drive the dogs away, but he lay like a living corpse, seeing them approach but unable to defend himself. So ^C paralyzed were his limbs, so pickled by sickness, so consumed by the trial. Do you see the poverty and the sickness that besieged his body with extreme excess? And if each of these is, in itself, intolerable and terrible, when they were intertwined together, how was he not some sort of diamond who endured these things? Many are often sick, but they are not lacking in necessary food; others live in extreme poverty, but they enjoy health, and the one becomes a consolation for the other; but here, both of these had converged. But can you tell me of anyone who is in both sickness and poverty? But not in such solitude. For even if he were not helped by himself or from his own home, he could be pitied by those who saw him if he were set out in the midst; but for him, the solitude made the aforementioned terrible things harder than those who would have helped him—and it made this very thing appear even more severe: to be lying at the gate of the rich man. For if he had been lying in the desert and the uninhabited place, and was suffering these things and was overlooked, he would not have felt as much pain. For the fact that no one was present convinced even an unwilling person to bear what was happening; but to be lying in the midst of so many who were drunk and living in luxury, and to receive not even the slightest care from anyone, made the sensation of his pains sharper ^D and ignited his discouragement all the more. For we are not as accustomed to be stung in our calamities by the absence of those who might help as we are by their presence when they are unwilling to reach out a hand—which is what he was experiencing then. For there was no one—no one exhorting him with words, no one comforting him with deeds; no friend, no neighbor, no relative, no one of those who saw him from the entire household of the rich man.

5. Moreover, there was another addition to his pain: seeing another living in prosperity. Not because he was envious and wicked, but because we are all naturally inclined to observe our own calamities more accurately in the prosperity of others. And in the case of the rich man, there was another, even greater thing that could sting him. For he was not only gaining a greater sensation of his own ills by comparing his own misfortune with that man's prosperity, but also by reflecting that the man who lived with cruelty and inhumanity was successful in all things, while he, who lived with virtue and gentleness, was suffering the ultimate evils. From this, he endured a disappointment that could not be consoled. For if the man were righteous, if he were gentle, if he were an admirable man, if he were full of every virtue, it would not have pained him; but as it was, living in wickedness and having reached the extreme of evil, and showing such inhumanity, and acting like an enemy—passing him by like a stone, shamelessly and mercilessly—and after all this, enjoying such great abundance...

^A Consider how it was likely, just as if by successive waves, that it was overwhelming the soul of the poor man. Consider Lazarus, as it is likely he was, seeing parasites, flatterers, servants going up and down, departing and entering, running about, making noise, getting drunk, leaping, and displaying every other kind of profligacy. For just as if he had come for this very reason, so that he might be a witness to the goods of others, so he was cast into the kennel, living only as much as meant he could perceive his own evils, enduring a shipwreck in a harbor, near a spring, throttling his soul with most cruel thirst.

Shall I say something else in addition to these evils? He had no other Lazarus to look upon. For we, even if we suffer ten thousand evils, have the ability to look to him and receive sufficient consolation, and to enjoy much comfort. For finding others who share in one's own evils, whether in deeds or in accounts, brings much consolation to the suffering. But he had no one else to look upon who had suffered the same things as himself; or rather, he had not even heard of any one of his ancestors who had endured so much. And this is enough to darken the soul.

There is also something else in addition to these that can be said: that he was not able to philosophize anything about the resurrection, but until the present life he considered that present affairs were circumscribed; for he belonged to the time before grace. But if even now in our day, after so much knowledge of God, and such good hopes of the resurrection, and the punishments laid out there for those who sin, and the goods prepared for those who succeed, some people are so small-minded and wretchedly disposed that they are not even corrected by these expectations: what is it likely that he suffered, deprived even of this anchor? For he was not yet able to philosophize anything of the kind, because the time for these teachings had not yet arrived.

There was something else in addition to these: that his reputation was also maligned by the foolish among men. ^B For the common run of people are accustomed, whenever they see some in famine and constant disease and extreme evils, not to have a good opinion of them, but to judge the affairs of their life from their disaster, and to think that they are altogether suffering so much on account of wickedness. And they say many other such things to one another—foolishly, yet they say them—that if this man were dear to God, He would not have allowed him to be miserable in poverty and in other evils. Thus, for instance, it happened in the case of Job, and in the case of Paul. For even to him they said: "Has it not been spoken to you in a place, but who will bear the strength of your words? For if you have admonished many, and encouraged weak hands, and raised up with words those who were sick, and put courage into those whose knees were weak; but now pain has come upon you, and you are hastening. Is not your fear in folly?" And what he says is of this kind: "If anything good had been done by you," he says, "you would not have suffered what you have suffered; but you are paying the penalties for sins and transgressions." And this was what most stung the blessed Job. And concerning Paul, ^C the barbarians said this: for when they saw the viper hanging from his hand, they supposed nothing good about him, but thought he was one of those who had dared the most extreme evils; and it is clear from what they said. For they said: "This man, having been saved from the sea, Justice has not allowed to live." But this also is not wont to trouble us by chance. Yet although there were so many waves, and they were borne along in succession, the ship was not sunk; but as one lying in a furnace, just as if he were enjoying constant dew, so he was philosophizing.

11. Against those who think that, if the rich man is punished after he departs, one might say that 'one is one'—that is, nothing—should the same happen to the poor man in the afterlife.

For he said to himself nothing of the sort, such as it is likely that many say: that this rich man, if he departs and is punished there and pays the penalty, 'one is one' has happened; but if he enjoys there the same honors, ^D [725] 'two are none'. Or do not you, the many, spread these things about in the market-place, introducing things from the hippodrome and the theaters outside into the Church? I myself, indeed, am ashamed to set these words out in the midst, and I blush; but yet it is necessary to say these things, so that you might be delivered from the disorderly laughter and the shame and the harm that comes from these words. Many often say these things jokingly; but even this is of diabolical malice, to introduce corrupted dogmas into our life under the guise of witty remarks. For many constantly spread these things about in workshops, and in the market-place, and in homes; which is of the uttermost unbelief and madness and truly childish laughter and mind. For to say that if the wicked depart and are punished, but not entirely to persuade oneself that they will be punished by all means, is of those who are unbelieving and questioning; but to think that, even if this should happen, which will indeed happen, they have enjoyed the same recompense as the just, this is of the uttermost folly.

What do you say, tell me? If the rich man departs and is punished there, is it 'one is one'? And how could that hold up to reason? For how many years of wealth do you wish to place him as having enjoyed here? Do you wish that we set down a hundred? I place down even two hundred, and three hundred, and twice as much, and, if you wish, even a thousand, which is impossible. "For the days of our years," he says, "are eighty years." But let a thousand be set down. Do you not have a life, tell me, to show here—one that does not have an end, nor know a limit—such as is the life of the just there? If someone, therefore, tell me, in a hundred years saw one night a good dream, and enjoyed much luxury in his sleep, and were then punished for a hundred years, would you be able to say in this case that 'one and one' make the one night of those dreams equivalent to the hundred years? One cannot say so. You must reckon this also concerning the life to come. For whatever one dream is to a hundred years, that is the present life to the life to come; or rather, even much more: as much as a small drop is to an infinite sea, so much are a thousand years to that future glory and enjoyment. And what more could one have to say, than that it has no end and knows no limit, and as much as is the chasm between dreams and the...

truth of things, so much is the difference between this state and that which is to come...

Otherwise, even before the punishment there, those who act wickedly and live in sins are punished from here on. For do not speak to me simply of one who enjoys a luxurious table, and is clothed in silk garments, and leads around droves of slaves, and struts in the marketplace; but lay open for me that man’s conscience, and you will see within him great tumult of sins, constant fear, a storm, turmoil, as if the mind had ascended the royal throne ^A of the conscience, as if a judge were sitting there, and presenting thoughts like executioners, and tearing the mind apart because of the sins committed, and shouting loudly, with no one knowing, but only God, who sees these things, understanding them. For the adulterer, even if he be [724] ten thousand times wealthy, and even if he has no one to accuse him, does not cease from accusing himself within; and the pleasure is momentary, but the pain is constant, fear is on every side and trembling, suspicion and agony; he fears the narrow passages, he trembles at the very shadows, at his own servants, at those who know, at those who do not know, at the very woman who was wronged, at the man who was insulted; he goes about carrying a bitter accuser—the conscience—being self-condemned, and not able to breathe even a little. For even on his bed, and at table, and in the marketplace, and in his house, and by day, and by night, and in his very dreams he often sees the idols of sin, and lives the life of Cain, groaning and trembling upon the earth, and though no one knows, he has the fire gathered within him always. This is what those who plunder and those who are greedy suffer; this is what the drunkards suffer, and simply every one of those living in sins; for it is impossible for that court to be corrupted; and even if we do not pursue virtue, nevertheless we are in pain, because we do not pursue it; and even if we pursue vice, nevertheless, having ceased from the pleasure that is in sin, we feel the pain. Let us not, therefore, say regarding those who are wealthy and act wickedly here, and the righteous who enjoy [blessings] there, that it is one for one, but that it is two for nothing. For to the righteous, both the things there and the things here provide much pleasure; but those in wickedness and greed are punished both here and there. For they are punished even here by the expectation of the punishment there, and by the wicked suspicion of everyone, and by the very act of sinning and destroying their own soul; and after their departure from here, they undergo unbearable punishments. On the other hand, the righteous, even if they suffer ten thousand terrible things here, are nourished by good hopes, having a pleasure that is pure, firm, and unshakable; and after these things, ten thousand good things await them, just as it was for Lazarus. For do not say to me that he had sores, but look to this, that he possessed within him a soul more precious than all gold; or rather, not the soul only, but even his [own] body; for the virtue of a body is not much flesh and good health, but to bear such and such torments. For it is not the case that if someone has such wounds on his body, such a one is loathsome; but if someone has ^B deep sores on his soul and takes no care of them—such was that rich man, all wounded within. And just as the dogs licked the wounds of this one, so did demons lick the sins of that one; and just as this one lived in a famine of food, so did that one live in a famine of all virtue.

16. Instruction on Wealth and Virtue

This, then, consider also in the case of those who are wealthy and greedy. There are certain bandits lying in wait on the roads, seizing the property of passersby, as if in caves and hiding places, burying in their own chambers the properties of others. Let us not, therefore, call them blessed because of the present things, but let us pity them because of the things to come, because of that fearful judgment seat, because of the inescapable accounts, because of the outer darkness ^C which is about to receive them. And yet, the bandits often escaped the hands of men; but yet, knowing even this, we would have prayed against both ourselves and our enemies for that life of theirs, and their accursed abundance. But in the case of God, this cannot be said; for no one will escape His judgment, but all, by all means, those who live in greed and robberies, will draw upon themselves the judgment from Him—that immortal and endless one, just as was the case for that rich man. All these things, therefore, collecting within yourselves, beloved, let us not call those who live in wealth blessed, but those who live in virtue; let us not pity those in poverty, but those in vice; let us not look at present things, but let us gaze upon things to come; let us not look at the outward appearance, but let us examine the conscience of each, and that which comes from good works ^D

by pursuing virtue and joy, let us imitate Lazarus, both rich and poor alike. For he endured not just one, or two, or three trials of virtue, but many—I mean poverty, sickness, the abandonment by those who should have stood by him, the need to endure all those evils in a house that had the power to quench them, and to be considered worthy of no word of comfort; to see before him ^A one who was enjoying such luxury—and not only enjoying luxury, but living in wickedness and suffering no evil thing—and to have none other to look upon than Lazarus, to be unable to philosophize about the resurrection, to receive from most people, alongside the aforementioned evils, a wicked reputation because of those misfortunes, and not for two or three days, but throughout his whole life, and to see himself in these conditions, and the rich man in the opposite. What defense shall we have, then, if, when he endured all these evils together with such courage, we cannot bear even half of them? For you have not—no, you have not—anyone else you can show or name who has suffered such and so many evils. For this very reason Christ set him before us, that wherever we might fall into evils, by seeing in him the excess of tribulations, we might receive sufficient encouragement and consolation from his philosophy and patience; for he stands before the world as a common teacher for all who suffer any evil, providing everyone with a sight of him, and surpassing them all by the excess of his own calamities. ^B Therefore, having given thanks to God, the lover of mankind, for all these things, let us reap the benefit from the narrative, carrying him with us constantly—in assemblies, at home, in the marketplace, and everywhere—and studying with precision all the wealth found in this parable, so that we may pass through present evils without pain and obtain the blessings to come. May we all be made worthy of these, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father, together with the holy Spirit, be glory, honor, and worship, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

Second Discourse on Lazarus, and that the souls of those who die violent deaths do not become demons, and concerning judgment and almsgiving.

α'. I admired your love when I previously brought up the discourse concerning Lazarus, for you accepted the patience of the poor man, and recoiled from the cruelty and inhumanity of the rich man; these are no small proofs of goodness. For even if we do not practice virtue, yet if we praise virtue, we shall certainly be able to practice it; and even if we do not flee from vice, yet if we blame vice, we shall certainly be able to escape it. Since, therefore, you received those words with such good will, come, let us pay you the remainder. You saw him then at the gate of the rich man; see him today in the bosom of Abraham. You saw him licked by dogs; see him escorted by angels. You saw him in poverty then; see him in luxury now. You saw him in famine; see him in great abundance. You saw him struggling; see him being crowned. You saw the labors; see the rewards, both you rich and you poor—the rich, that you may not think wealth is a great thing without virtue; the poor, that you may not think poverty is an evil at all. ^C This man stands as a teacher to both sides. For if he, being in poverty, did not complain, what excuse will those have who do this while in wealth? If he, being in famine and such great evils, gave thanks, what defense will those have who, living in abundance, are not willing to come to the same virtue? Again, the poor who are indignant and distressed by their poverty, what excuse will they have, when this man, living in the home of a rich man in famine, poverty, abandonment, and constant sickness, and being despised by all, and having no one else to look upon who was suffering the same things as himself, appears to be acting so philosophically?

From this, let us learn neither to consider the rich blessed nor the poor wretched. Or rather, if one must tell the truth, not even he who is clothed with many things is rich, but he who is in need of nothing; nor is he who possesses nothing poor, but he who desires many things; one must consider this the definition of poverty and wealth. If, therefore, you see someone desiring many things, consider him poorer than all, even if he possesses the money of everyone. But if, again, you see someone in need of few things, judge him to be more prosperous than all, even if he possesses nothing. For we are accustomed to judge poverty and prosperity by the disposition of the mind, not by the measure of possessions. ^D Just as we would not say that one who is constantly thirsty is healthy, even if he enjoys abundance and lies near rivers and springs (for what profit is there in that abundance of water, when the affliction remains unquenched?), so let us act regarding the wealthy: let us never consider those who are always desiring and thirsting for what belongs to others as healthy, nor as enjoying any abundance. For he who cannot settle his own desire, even if he is clothed with everything, how shall he ever be in prosperity? Those, however, who are content with their own things, and are satisfied with what they have, and do not cast their eyes about at the possessions of others—even if they are more destitute than all—one must consider them to be more prosperous than all. For he who does not desire the possessions of others, but is content to be satisfied with his own...

^A is more prosperous. But if it pleases, let us return to the subject at hand. It happened, he says, that Lazarus died, and was carried away by the angels.

Here I wish to root out a wicked disease of your soul. For many of the simpler sort imagine that the souls of those who die a violent death become demons. But this is not so, it is not. For the souls of those who die a violent death do not become demons, but the souls of those living in sins do, not by their substance being changed, but by their moral choice imitating the wickedness of those beings. Indeed, Christ declared this also to the Jews when He said: "You are of your father the devil." And He called them sons of the devil, not because they passed into his substance, but because they performed his works; wherefore He also adds, "For you will do the desires of your father." And again John says, "Brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Produce therefore fruit worthy of repentance, and do not think to say, 'We have Abraham as our father.'" For Scripture knows how to call by the laws of kinship, not those of nature, but those of virtue and vice; and of whomever a person becomes like in character, him Scripture calls his son and brother.

β'. But for what reason did the devil introduce this wicked doctrine? He attempted to undermine the glory of the martyrs. For because those men finish their lives with a violent death, wishing to cast a wicked reputation upon them, he did this. But in this he did not succeed; for they remain having their own brilliance. But he accomplished something else most grievous, having persuaded the sorcerers who serve him, through these doctrines, to slaughter the bodies of many simple young people with the hope that they would become demons, and in turn serve them. But this is not so, it is not. What then, because the demons say, "I am the soul of such and such a monk," he says? For this very reason I do not believe, because demons are saying it; for they deceive their hearers.

For this reason also Paul, although they were speaking the truth, silenced them, so that they might not, having taken an opening, mix falsehoods with the truth again and become trustworthy. For because they were saying, "These men are servants of the Most High God, proclaiming to you the way of salvation," he, being pained in spirit, rebuked the Pythonic spirit ^B and commanded it to come out; and yet what evil were they speaking? "These men are servants of the Most High God." But since many of the simpler sort do not always know how to distinguish what is said by demons, he blocked them from being believed once for all. "You are disgraced," he says, "you have no right to speak, be silent, be muzzled; it is not yours to preach, this office belongs to the apostles. Why do you snatch what is not yours? Be silent, you have been dishonored." Thus also Christ acted; when the demons say to Him, "We know who You are," He rebuked them with great severity, teaching us never to obey a demon, not even if he should say something sound to you. Which, indeed, when we have learned, let us not obey the demon at all, but even if he utters something true, let us flee him and turn away; for it is not from demons, but from the holy Scripture ^C that one must learn sound and saving doctrines with accuracy. For that it is not possible for a soul that has departed from the body to come under the tyranny of demons, hear what Paul says: "For he who has died has been justified from sin," that is, he sins no more. For if the devil cannot force the soul while it is dwelling in the body, it is evident that he cannot do so when it has departed. How then, one says, do they sin if they do not suffer force? They are willing and desirous, and deliver themselves up, not being compelled, nor tyrannized. And all those who have overcome his machinations have demonstrated this. For though he harassed Job with ten thousand things, he was unable to persuade him to utter a single blasphemous word.

Whence it is clear that we are masters of both obeying and not obeying his counsels, and we do not undergo any necessity or tyranny from him. And it is evident not only from the things said, but also from the parable at hand, that the souls having departed from the body do not dwell here any longer, but are immediately led away; and hear how. For it happened, he says, that he died, and was carried away by the angels. But it is not the souls of the just only, but also of those living in wickedness that are led away there; and this again is evident from the other rich man. For because his land had produced a good harvest, he said to himself: "What shall I do? I will pull down my barns, and build greater ones." Nothing is more miserable than such a judgment. Truly he pulled down his barns; for secure barns are not walls, but the stomachs ^D of the poor; but he, leaving those aside, busied himself with walls. What then does God say to him? "Fool, this night they require your soul from you." And observe: here he says they were carried away by the angels, there they require them; and he led one out as a prisoner, and the other they escorted as a victor. And just as in the stadium, after having received many wounds and being sprinkled with blood, the one who has bound his head with the wreath is received by those standing before the stadium, who lead him home applauding, praising, and marveling; so also angels then led away Lazarus; but for the soul of that man, certain fearsome powers were demanding it, perhaps sent for this; for the soul does not depart to that life by its own motion, because it is not even possible. For if when we change from city to city, we need a guide, much more will the soul, having been torn from the flesh and shifting to the life to come, need those who will lead it. For this reason it often shrinks, and goes down into the depths, and fears and trembles, being about to fly off from the flesh. For the conscience of sins always stings us, but most of all at that hour, when we are about to be led away from here to the reckoning there and the fearsome tribunal. Then, whether one has snatched, or has defrauded, or has maligned someone, or has become an enemy to someone unjustly, or has done any other terrible thing, the whole swarm of sins is renewed and before the eyes

and it pricks the mind. And just as those who dwell in a prison are always in gloom and pains, but especially on that day on which they are about to be led out, and stand before the very doors of the judge, and standing before the lattices, and hearing the voice of the one judging from within, they are frozen with fear and are in no better condition than the dead; so also the soul, especially indeed at the very time of sin, is pained and constricted, but much more so when, having been torn from this world, it is about to be led away.

^B

III.

But the rich man also died and was buried, as if his body were a tomb ^D with his soul buried inside, and his flesh carrying about a grave. For just as one fettered by some chain—by drunkenness and gluttony—so he had made it useless and dead. Do not pass over the word "buried" lightly, O beloved; rather, let there flow before me here the silver-plated tables, the couches, the rugs, the coverlets, all the other things in the house, the perfumes, the aromatics, the much unmixed wine, the varieties of food, the seasonings, the cooks, the flatterers, the guards, the servants, and the entire other phantasm, extinguished and withered. Everything is dust, everything is ashes and dirt, lamentations and wailings, with no one able to help anymore, nor to bring back the departed soul. Then the power of gold and of much wealth was put to the test. For he was led away naked and alone from such treatment, having been able to carry nothing away from here of such great abundance, but he was led away destitute, unassisted; no one of those who served him, no one of those who could help him was present to plead his cause before the punishment and the torment, but having been torn away from all those, he received only the enduring of the unbearable torments. Truly, “All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withered, and its flower fell off; but the Word of the Lord abides forever.” Death came and extinguished all those things; and just as if having taken a prisoner, so he led him away, bowing down, full of shame, stripped of confidence, trembling, fearing as if having enjoyed all that luxury in a dream; and henceforth the rich man became a beggar for the poor man, and was in need of his table—of him who was once famished and laid before the mouths of dogs. And the circumstances were reversed, and everyone learned who was the rich man and who was the poor man, and that Lazarus was indeed richer than all, but this one was poorer than all.

For just as in a theater some people take up the masks of kings and generals and physicians and rhetoricians and sophists and soldiers, and enter in, though they are none of these—so also in the present life poverty and wealth are merely masks. Just as, therefore, sitting in the theater, if you see one of the actors below wearing the mask of a king, you do not call him blessed, nor consider that he is a king, nor would you pray to become such; rather, knowing that he is one of the market-folk, a rope-maker perhaps, or a coppersmith, or something else of that sort, you do not call him blessed because of the mask and the costume, nor do you judge his life from these, but you despise him because of his other worthlessness; so also here, just as if in a theater, sitting in the world and watching them playing on the stage, whenever you see many being wealthy, do not consider them to be truly rich, but that they have put on the masks of wealth. For just as that one on the stage acting the king and the general is often found to be a servant, or one of those selling figs and grapes in the market; so also this rich man is often found to be poorer than all. For if you take away his mask, and unfold his conscience, and enter into his mind, you will find there great poverty of virtue, and that he is more dishonorable than all men.

IV.

^A life he departed, and laid aside his mask, he was found to be poorer than all there, and so poor that he was not even master of a drop of water, but had to beg for it, and did not even attain that which he requested. What could be poorer than such poverty? And hear how: for lifting up his eyes, he says to Abraham: "Father, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue." Do you see how great is the affliction? He passed by him when he was near, and now he calls to him though he is far away; he whom he did not see when entering and leaving—him he sees clearly from afar. And for what reason does he see him? Perhaps the rich man often said: "What need have I of piety and virtue? Everything flows to me as if from springs; I enjoy much abundance, much prosperity; I suffer none of the unexpected—why should I pursue virtue? This poor man, living in righteousness and piety, suffers ten thousand terrible things." These things, indeed, many say even now. So, in order that these evil doctrines might be rooted out entirely, he shows him that for wickedness also there is punishment, and for the labors endured for the sake of piety, there is honor and a crown. But he did not see him only for this reason, but in order that the poor man might undergo that which the rich man suffers now, with greater excess. For just as the fact of lying at the rich man's gate made his torment more grievous, and seeing the alien goods, so now to be in Gehenna and to see the luxury of Lazarus made his punishment more grievous, so that he might have a punishment more unbearable not only by the nature of the torments, but also by the comparison of that honor. And just as God, driving Adam out of paradise, settled him opposite paradise, ^B so that the constant sight, renewing the sorrow, might provide him a more accurate perception of his loss of goods, so too he settled this man opposite Lazarus, so that he might see of what he had deprived himself. "I sent to you," He says, "the poor man Lazarus at your gate, so that he might become for you a teacher of virtue and an occasion for philanthropy. You passed by the profit; you did not wish to use the opportunity for salvation as you ought. You shall use him, then, for an occasion of greater punishment and torment." From these things we learn that all those who are abused and wronged by us will stand face to face with us then. And yet, this man was not wronged at all by the rich man; for the rich man did not take what was his, but did not share what was his own. If, while not sharing his own, he has as his accuser the one whom he did not pity, what forgiveness will he obtain who has also stolen what belongs to others, with his victims surrounding him from all sides? For there is no need there for witnesses, nor for accusers, nor for proofs, nor for evidence; but the deeds themselves, as we fashioned them, appear before our eyes.

For behold, He says, a man, and his works. For this also is theft: not to share what one possesses. And perhaps it seems wonderful to you what is being said, but do not marvel; for I shall provide you testimony from the divine Scriptures saying that not only to steal the goods of others, but also not to share one's own with others, this also is theft and greed and deprivation. What, then, is this? God, accusing the Jews through the prophet, says: "The earth brought forth its produce, and you did not bring in the tithes; but the theft of the poor is in your houses." Because you did not give the customary offerings, He says, you stole from the poor. He says this, showing the rich that they possess what belongs to the poor, even if they inherit a paternal estate, or even if they gathered their wealth from anywhere. And again elsewhere He says: "Do not deprive the life of the poor." And he who deprives, deprives others of what is theirs; for it is called deprivation when we take and hold the things of others. And we are taught through this, therefore, that when we do not provide alms, we shall be punished equally with those who deprive. For the wealth is the Lord's own, from wherever we may have gathered it; and if we provide it to those in need, we shall attain much abundance. And for this reason, God allowed you to have more—not that you should consume it on fornication, and drunkenness, and gluttony, and the luxury of garments, and other such sloth, but that you should distribute it to those in need. For just as a collector who has received royal funds, if he distributes them into his own sloth instead of to those to whom he is ordered to distribute them, gives an account and perishes besides, so too the rich man is a collector of the funds that are owed to be distributed to the poor, ordered to distribute them to the needy among his fellow servants. If, then, he consumes on himself more than is necessary, he will give the most grievous account there. For his own things are not his own, but belong to his own fellow servants.

^C 5’. Let us, therefore, spare them as being another's, so that they may become our own. But how shall we spare them as another's? When we do not consume them for superfluous needs, nor for our own alone, but share them with the hands of the poor; and if you are well-to-do, even if you consume something more than is necessary, you will give an account of the funds entrusted to you. This happens also in the case of great households. Many, at any rate, entrust their treasuries to their own servants; but yet those who are entrusted keep what is given, and do not make use of the things entrusted to them, but distribute them to whom and when the master commands. You do likewise. For you have received more than others, and you have received it not so that you alone should consume it, but so that you might become a good steward for others as well.

It is worth inquiring, too, why he does not see Lazarus in some other place of justice, but saw him in the bosom of Abraham. Abraham was hospitable; so, in order that this might become a refutation to him of his inhospitability, for this reason he sees him with that man. For that man even hunted after passersby and drew them inside his own house; but this man disregarded even him who was lying inside, and having such a treasure and an occasion for salvation, he passed him by every day, and did not use the care of the poor as he ought. But the patriarch was not of such a kind, but the exact opposite—sitting before his doors, he drew in those who were passing by.

casts a net into the sea and draws up fish, and often gold and pearls as well, so too he, ensnaring men, once even fished for angels; and the wonderful 734 thing is that he did so without knowing it. Wherefore Paul, too, struck with wonder, exhorts us, saying: "Be not forgetful of hospitality: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." And well did he say, "unawares." For if, knowing who they were, he had received them with such goodwill, he would have done nothing great or wonderful; but the whole praise lies in the fact that, not knowing who those passing by were, and merely thinking them to be wayfarers, he called them in with such readiness.

You too, therefore, if you receive someone illustrious and bright, and show great readiness, you have done nothing wonderful, for the virtue of the guest often compels even the inhospitable man to show every goodwill; but the greatest and most wonderful thing is when we receive even casual passers-by, the rejected, and the lowly with great goodwill. For this reason, Christ also, speaking of those who receive in such a way, said: "Inasmuch as you did it unto one of these least, you did it unto me." And again: "Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish." And again: "Whoso shall offend one of these little ones, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." And everywhere, Christ has great care for the little and the least.

Knowing this, Abraham did not cross-examine those passing by as to who they were and whence they came, as we do now; but he simply received all who were passing by. For one who shows kindness should not demand an accounting of life, but only relieve poverty and supply the need. The poor man has one plea: his need and the fact of being in want. Require nothing further from him; but even if he be the most wicked of all and in need of necessary food, let us relieve his hunger. So Christ also commanded us to do, saying: "Be like your Father who is in heaven, for he makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." The merciful man is a haven for those in need; and a haven receives all who have suffered shipwreck and releases them from their perils; whether they are wicked, or good, or whatever those in danger may be, he brings them into his own bosom. You too, therefore, seeing a man on earth who has suffered shipwreck in poverty, do not judge, nor demand an accounting, but relieve the calamity. Why do you give yourself trouble? God has freed you from all curiosity and meddlesomeness. How many things would many be ready to say and fret over, if God had commanded us to examine life with accuracy, to investigate the conduct and the deeds of each one first, and then to have mercy? But now we have been freed from all such difficulty. Why then do we draw upon ourselves superfluous cares? A judge is one thing, a merciful man is another. Almsgiving is so called for this reason, that we give even to the unworthy.

Paul also exhorts us to do this, saying: "And let us not be weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith." If we scrutinize the unworthy and act meddlesomely, neither will the worthy ever easily fall into our hands; but if we provide even for the unworthy, all the worthy—and those who are worth all of them combined—will surely come into our hands; even as it happened to the blessed Abraham, who, not scrutinizing or being meddlesome toward those passing by, was able even to entertain angels once. Let us emulate him, and with him his descendant, Job. For he too imitated the magnanimity of his ancestor with all accuracy, and for this reason he said: "My door was open to every comer; not to this one was it open, and to another closed, but it was open to all simply."

6.

But let us lead the discourse back to the subject again. Seeing him then in the bosom of Abraham, he says: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus." For what reason did he not address his speech to Lazarus? It seems to me that he was ashamed and blushed, and because of the things concerning his own life, he thought that Lazarus would surely harbor a grudge against him. For if I, he says, enjoying such wealth and having suffered no injury, overlooked the man while he was in such evils, and did not share even crumbs with him, much more will he, who was thus overlooked, not consent to the favor. We do not say these things accusing Lazarus—for far be it that he should have been so disposed—but because the other, fearing these things, did not call him, but called Abraham, whom he thought to be unaware of what had happened; and he sought that finger which he had allowed the tongues of dogs to lick many times.

What then does he reply? "Son, remember that in thy lifetime thou receivedst thy good things." Behold the philosophy, behold the tender affection of a saint. He did not say: "O inhuman, cruel, and most wicked man, having inflicted so many evils upon the man, do you now remember philanthropy, and mercy, and forgiveness? Do you not blush, nor are you ashamed?" But what? "Son," he says, "thou receivedst thy good things." Do not, he says, agitate a soul already afflicted. The punishments are sufficient for him; let us not add to his calamities. Otherwise, also, and that he might not think that he prevented Lazarus from coming out of a grudge for the past,

^A he calls him son, offering an apology through this appellation on his own behalf, as it were. "I am the Lord," he says, "I provide; but the departure of this man from here to there is no longer in our power. You received your good things." And why did he not say, "You took," but, "You received"? I see a vast ocean of thoughts opening up before us from this. Therefore, keeping all that has been said with care, both the things said now and those said before, ^B let us lay them aside with all security, and prepare yourselves to be more fit for the hearing of what is to be said in the future from what has already been spoken; and if it be possible for you, remember everything for me; but if you cannot remember everything, I ask that you remember this one thing instead of all: that not sharing with the poor from one's own wealth is a robbery of the poor and a deprivation of their life; and we possess not our own things, ^C but theirs. For if we are so disposed, we shall certainly dispense the money, and having fed Christ who is hungry here, we shall find there much merchandise; having laid it up, we shall be able to attain to the good things to come, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the holy Spirit, be glory, honor, power, now and always, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

On Lazarus, Third Discourse; and why he did not say, "You took your good things in your life," but, "You received them"; and why the righteous often fall into dangers, while the sinners escape them.

^A 1. The parable concerning Lazarus has benefited us no little, both the rich and the poor, having taught the former to bear poverty easily, and not having allowed the latter to be high-minded regarding wealth, but having taught them through the very works that he who lives in luxury and shares none of his belongings is the most pitiable of all. Come, therefore, and today let us touch upon the same subject again; for even those who work in mines, wherever they see many veins of gold, they dig there again, and they do not desist before they have exhausted all that is apparent. Let us return, then, ^B to where we left off the discourse before, so that we may take it up from there. For it was possible to unfold this whole parable to you in one day; but we have not been eager to depart after saying many things, but rather that, having received and held fast to what was said with accuracy, you might take from this guarding some sense of spiritual benefit. For just as a loving mother who is about to bring a nursing child to solid food, if she pours the undiluted [drink] into its mouth all at once, it is of no benefit—the child spitting out what is given and wetting its little shirt about its chest—but if she pours it in quietly and little by little, the child receives what is given without distress. So in order that you also might not spit out what is given, we did not pour out the cup of teaching for you all at once, ^C but we have broken it up for you into many days, in the days between allowing you to rest from the labor of hearing, so that what has been sown might be fixed with security in the mind of your love, and you might receive what is to be said hereafter with a relaxed and vigorous soul. For this reason, we often announce the subject of what is to be said in the future many days in advance, so that in the days between, having taken the book and gone over the whole passage, and having learned exactly what has been said and what has been left out, you might make your mind more capable of learning for the hearing of what will be spoken after this.

And this I always ask, and I will not cease asking, that you not only attend to what is said here, but also, when you are at home, ^D dwell continuously upon the reading of the divine Scriptures. I have not ceased to attest this to those who gather with me privately. For let no one say to me those cold words, and ones worthy of much condemnation: "I am tied to a court, I am doing the city's business, I practice a trade, I have a wife, I support children, I am the head of a household, I am a man involved in life; it is not for me to read the Scriptures, but for those who have renounced the world, those who have taken to the mountain peaks, those who have this life continuously." What are you saying, man? Is it not your task to attend to the Scriptures because you are dragged about by a myriad of cares? It is, in fact, more your task than theirs. For those people do not need the help from the divine Scriptures as much as those who are revolving in the midst of many affairs. For the monks, having been delivered from the marketplace and the disturbances of the marketplace, and having fixed their huts in the desert, and having no one in common with anyone, but philosophizing with security in that calm of silence, as if sitting in a harbor, enjoy much security; but we who are tossed about as if in the midst of the sea, and have the constraints of a myriad of sins, are always in need of the consolation from the Scriptures. They sit far from the battle, and therefore they do not receive many wounds; but you stand continuously at the front line, and you receive constant blows; therefore, you are in need of more medicines. For a wife provokes, and a son causes grief, and a servant brings one into anger, and an enemy plots, and a friend is envious, and a neighbor insults, and a fellow soldier trips you up, and often a judge threatens, and poverty causes pain, and the loss of one's own creates mourning, and prosperity spoils, and adversity shrinks, and many occasions and necessities of anger, and many of cares, and many of despondency and grief, and many of vainglory and folly, surround us from every side, and a myriad of arrows are carried from every side; therefore, there is a continuous need for the armor from the Scriptures. For, "Know," he says, "that you walk in the midst of snares, and you walk upon the battlements of a city." For indeed the desires of the flesh are more grievous than those revolving in the midst of...

are aroused; for a comely appearance and a shining body affect the eyes, and a shameful word entering through the ears disturbs our reason; and often even a fractured melody softens the strength of the soul. And why do I say these things? For the most trivial of all these things, which often seems to be nothing, the scent of perfumes wafting from somewhere 758 from women acting as harlots along the way, has taken many a prisoner from a mere chance encounter.

^B β'. There are many such things that besiege our soul; and we have need of divine medicines, so that we may both heal the wounds that have occurred, and ward off from afar those that have not yet occurred, but are about to be, by extinguishing and repelling the arrows of the devil through the continuous reading of the divine Scriptures. For it is not, it is not possible for anyone to be saved without continuously enjoying spiritual reading; but indeed it is a thing to be desired, even if by enjoying this continuous remedy, we might be able to be saved at some time. If then we are struck every day, yet enjoy no medical treatment, what hope of salvation is there? Do you not see those who are brass-smiths, goldsmiths, silver-smiths, or those who ply any trade whatsoever, who have all the tools of their trade ready-made, that even if famine compels them, or poverty distresses them, they choose to endure everything rather than sell any of their trade's instruments, in order to be fed? Many, indeed, have often chosen rather to borrow in order to feed both the house and the children, than to sell even the smallest of their trade's tools; and very rightly so. For they know that, if these are sold, all the things of their trade are useless to them, and the entire foundation of their livelihood is destroyed. For if those remain, it is possible to pay off the debts incurred in time by continuously using their trade; but if, having beforehand sold them to others, they are no longer able to devise any consolation for their poverty and famine. Thus, then, we also ought to be disposed. For just as for them the tools of the trade are the hammer, the anvil, and the tongs; so also for us the tools of the trade are the apostolic and prophetic books, and all Scripture is God-breathed and profitable. And just as they, through these, shape all the vessels they take, so also do we, through these, forge our soul, and correct what is twisted, and renew what has grown old. And they indeed demonstrate their skill only up to the forms; for they could not change the material of the vessels, nor make silver into gold, but they only rearrange their shapes; but you are not so, but you have something more than they, and having taken a wooden vessel you will be able one day to make it golden. And of this Paul is a witness, saying thus: "In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and earthen. If therefore anyone cleanses himself from these, he will be a vessel for honor, sanctified, and useful to the Lord, prepared for every good work." Let us not, therefore, neglect the acquisition of books, so that we do not receive a wound in vital parts, nor bury gold, but rather store up spiritual books for ourselves. For gold, whenever it becomes abundant, then most of all it plots against those who possess it; but books when stored away provide much benefit to those who have them. For just as wherever royal weapons are stored, even if there is no one who uses them, they provide much security to those living inside, as neither robbers, nor housebreakers, nor any other of those doing evil dare to approach the house; so wherever there are spiritual books, all diabolical energy is driven away from there, and much consolation of virtue comes to those who live within. And indeed, the very appearance of the books by itself makes us more sluggish toward sin. For even if we should dare to do some of the things that are forbidden, and work ourselves to be unclean, returning home and seeing the books, we condemn our conscience all the more, and become more sluggish about falling into the same again; and if, on the other hand, we continue in holiness, we receive more benefit from them. For as soon as someone has touched the Gospel, he straightway transforms his inner mind, and withdraws from worldly things even from its appearance alone. And if precise reading also comes to pass, as if the soul were being initiated in holy sanctuaries, thus it is cleansed and becomes better, with God conversing with it through those letters.

What then, if we do not understand what is written? he says. Mostly, even if you do not understand what is written, from the reading itself much sanctification comes. But otherwise, it is impossible to be ignorant of everything equally; for it is for this reason that the grace of the Spirit arranged for publicans and fishermen and tent-makers and shepherds and goatherds and laymen and illiterate men to compose these books, so that no one among the laity should have this pretense to hide behind, that the things said might be easily viewed by all, so that the craftsman, and the servant, and the widow woman, and the most unlearned of all men, might gain and be benefited from the hearing. For not for vainglory, like those outside, but for the salvation of those who hear, did those who were deemed worthy of the grace of the Spirit from the beginning compose all these things.

^C γ'. For the philosophers and rhetoricians and writers outside, not seeking the common good, but aiming only at how they themselves might be admired, even if they said something useful, they hid this, just as in a certain darkness, in the customary obscurity. But the apostles and the prophets did the exact opposite; for they made the things from them clear and plain to all, being common teachers of the inhabited world, so that each one might be able to learn even by himself from the reading alone the things that are said. And foretelling this, the prophet said: "They shall all be taught of God," and—

^A as Paul also says: "And I, brethren, came to you, not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring to you the mystery of God." And again: "My speech and my preaching were not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power." And again: "For we speak wisdom," he says, "not of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought." For to whom are the things of the Gospels not manifest? And who, upon hearing that "blessed are the meek, blessed are the merciful, blessed are the pure in heart," and whatever else is of such a sort, will have need of a teacher to learn any of the things that are said? But are the things concerning signs and miracles and histories not also manifest and clear to one who is willing? These are evasions and pretexts and concealments of sloth.

Do you not understand the things lying before you? For how could you ever understand, when you do not even wish to look into them simply? Take the book into your hands; read the entire history, and having grasped the things that are clear, traverse often the things that are obscure and unclear; and if you cannot by the continuity of the reading find what is meant, go to one who is wiser, come to the teacher, consult concerning the things spoken, show much eagerness. And if God sees you using such readiness, He will not overlook your vigilance and care, but even if a human does not teach what is sought, He Himself will reveal it in every way. Remember the eunuch of the queen of Ethiopia, who, being a barbarian man, and held by countless cares, and surrounded on all sides by many affairs, not knowing what he was reading, nevertheless read while sitting upon his chariot. And if he showed such eagerness on the road, consider what he was like when dwelling at home; if he did not endure to remain without reading during the time of his journey, much more so while sitting in his house. If, being ignorant of what he was reading, he did not abstain from reading, much more so after having learned. For that he did not know what he was reading, hear what Philip says to him: "Do you understand what you are reading?" And he, upon hearing these things, did not blush nor was he ashamed, but confessed his ignorance, and says: "For how could I, unless some man guide me?" Since, therefore, not yet having one to guide him, he was reading thus, for this reason he quickly laid hold of one to lead him by the hand. God saw his eagerness, accepted his diligence, and sent him a teacher immediately. But is Philip not present now? But the Spirit who moved Philip is present. Let us not despise our salvation, beloved. All these things were written for us for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the ages have come.

Great safety against sinning is the reading of the Scriptures; a great cliff and deep abyss is the ignorance of the Scriptures; a great betrayal of salvation is to know nothing from the divine laws; this has given birth to heresies, this has introduced a corrupted life, this has turned things upside down. For it is impossible, impossible for one to retire fruitlessly who constantly ^B enjoys the reading with close attention. Behold, then, how much one parable benefited us; how much it made our soul better! For I know well that many have departed having received lasting benefit from the hearing; but if there are some who did not reap so much, nevertheless, they certainly became better for that very day on which they heard. And it is no small thing to spend even one day in contrition for sins, and to look up toward the higher philosophy, and to provide the soul a little breathing space, at least, from worldly cares. And if we do this at every assembly, and do not intermit, the continuity of the hearing will produce some great and noble good in us.

^D 4. Come, therefore, and let us again render to you the things that follow in the parable. And what are the things that follow? When the rich man said, "Send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger, and cool my tongue," let us hear what Abraham says: "Son, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus likewise evil things; but now he is comforted, and you are tormented. And beside all this, a great gulf is fixed between us and you, so that they who would pass from hence to us cannot, nor do they pass from there to us." The things said are burdensome, and have caused much pain to flow into us. I know this myself; but as much as the conscience stings, so much does it also benefit the understanding of those who are stung. For if these things were being said to us there, just as to the rich man, there would truly be need to wail and lament and mourn, because there would no longer be any time for repentance left to us. But since we hear these things while being here, where it is possible both to recover and to wash away the things committed, and to acquire much boldness, and, having become fearful from the evils that befall others, to change, let us offer thanks to the philanthropic God, who through the punishment of others awakens our own sloth, and rouses us who are asleep. For it is for this reason that these things have been foretold, that we might not suffer these things. For if He wished to punish, He would not have foretold these things; but since He does not wish to cast us into torment, for this reason He foretells the torment, in order that, having been made wise by the forewarning, we might escape the experience through the realities themselves.

But for what reason did He not say, "You took your good things," but, "You received them back"? For remember, I know well, that I said from this point a boundless and great sea of meanings opens up to us; for the word, "You received back," signifies and indicates a debt of some kind; for one receives back what is owed. If, therefore, this rich man was polluted, and all-polluted, and cruel and inhuman, for what reason did He not say to him, "You took your good things," but, "You received them back," as if they were due and owed? What, then, do we learn from this? That even if some are polluted and have arrived at the extreme of wickedness, they have often performed one or two or three good deeds. And that I am not now saying these things by conjecture is manifest from thence. For what has been more polluted than that unjust judge? What more inhuman? What more impious? This man neither feared God, nor—

^A felt shame before men; yet nevertheless, while living in such wickedness, he did perform some good, having taken pity on the widow who was constantly troubling him, and yielding to the request, and granting the petition, and taking action against those who were wronging her. Thus it happens that one is a profligate, yet often merciful; or inhuman, yet temperate. But even if one should be both profligate and cruel, yet nevertheless he has often done some one good thing in the course of his life. The same should also be suspected of the prosperous. For just as the most worthless often do something good, so too the diligent and virtuous often commit some sin. For who, he says, will boast that he has a pure heart, or who will be confident that he is pure from sin?

Since, therefore, it was likely that the rich man, even if he had arrived at the extreme of wickedness, should have done some good thing, and that Lazarus, even if he had reached the height of virtue ^B, should have sinned in some small way, see how the patriarch hinted at both of these things, saying, "You also received your good things in your lifetime, and Lazarus likewise the bad things." And what he means is this: If you did any good thing at all, and the reward for this was due to you, you received all these things in that world, while living in luxury, being wealthy, and enjoying prosperity and many good successes; and he, if he did any bad thing, received everything in poverty, famine, and by being vexed with the ultimate evils; and both of you have arrived [here] naked—he of sins, and you of the fruits of righteousness. For this reason, he has pure comfort, and you endure punishment that cannot be consoled.

For when our accomplishments are small and trivial, and the bulk of our sins is great and unspeakable, and then we enjoy prosperity here, and suffer nothing terrible, we shall certainly depart destitute and naked of the reward for good deeds, having received everything here; just as, when the accomplishments are great and many, but the sins small and trivial, and then we suffer something terrible, we put off those small sins here, and receive there the pure and perfected recompense for good works. When, therefore, you see someone living in wickedness, but suffering nothing terrible here, do not call him blessed, but weep and mourn, as one who is about to undergo all terrible things there—just as this rich man did. Again, when you see someone practicing virtue and enduring countless trials, call him blessed and envy him, as one who is having all his sins dissolved here, and many rewards being prepared for him there; just as happened in the case of this Lazarus.

5. For of men, some are punished only here, others suffer nothing terrible here but receive all punishment there, and others are punished both here and there. Whom, then, do you consider blessed among these three? The first, surely, I know well, are those who are punished here and put off their sins. But who are the second after these? You perhaps say those who suffer nothing here but endure all the punishment there; but I [say] not these, but those who are punished both here and there. For he who has given punishment here will feel ^C the punishment there more lightly; but he who is compelled to endure the whole punishment there will have an inevitable judgment. Just as this rich man, having resolved nothing of his own sins here, was so severely punished that he could not even obtain a small drop.

And of these very ones—those who sin, but suffer no terrible thing here—I much more lament those who, besides not being punished here, also enjoy luxury and indulgence. For just as not suffering punishment here for sins makes the punishment there more severe, so too the enjoyment of much relief by those sinning, and of luxury and ease, becomes for them an incentive and basis for greater punishment and torture there. For when we are punished by God ^D while sinning, this very thing will be able to cast us into the fire more greatly. For if one who enjoys only long-suffering, if he does not use it for its needed purpose, will have a more severe punishment; when, along with long-suffering, one has the greatest honors, and then persists in wickedness, who will deliver him from that punishment? For that those enjoying long-suffering here heap up entire evil for themselves there, if we do not repent, hear what Paul says: "Or do you think this, O man, who judge those who do such things, and do them yourself, that you will escape the judgment of God? Or do you despise the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leads you to repentance? But in accordance with your hardness and your impenitent heart you are treasuring up for yourself wrath in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God."

When, therefore, we see some wealthy, living in luxury, smelling of perfumes, spending days in drunkenness, being in power and great glory and much display and arrogance, and sinning, and suffering nothing terrible, for this very reason let us strictly weep and mourn for them, that they are not punished while sinning. For just as if you saw someone held by dropsy or a spleen, or having some rot and countless sores from all sides, and then in addition to all these things, drinking, living luxurious, and aggravating the disease, you not only do not admire nor call him blessed due to the luxury, but for this very reason you rather pity him; so also think in the case of the soul. When you see a man living in wickedness, and enjoying much prosperity, and suffering no terrible thing, for this reason rather mourn, that, held by a disease and most grievous rot, he aggravates the infirmity, becoming worse through luxury and ease. For punishment is not an evil, but sin is an evil. For this separates us from God, but that draws us toward God, and dissolves [*] the wrath. Whence is this manifest? Hear the prophet saying, "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God, priests, speak to the heart of Jerusalem, for she has received from the hand of the Lord double for all her sins." And again: "Lord our God, give us peace; for you have rendered everything to us." And that you may learn that some are punished here, others there, and others both here and there, hear...

what Paul says, accusing those who partake of the mysteries unworthily; for having said, "He who eats and drinks the body and blood of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of Christ," he immediately added: "For this reason many among you are weak and ill, and many sleep. For if we judged ourselves, we should not be judged; but when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined, so that we may not be condemned along with the world." Do you see how the punishment here snatches us away from the retribution there? And concerning the one who had committed fornication, he says: "Deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." And this is also evident from Lazarus, that if he did any evil, by washing it away here he departed thence pure; and this is also evident from the paralytic, who, having spent thirty-eight years in his infirmity, set aside his sins through the length of the illness. And that he was in that state because of sins, hear what Christ says: "Behold, you have become well; sin no more, lest something worse befall you." That some are therefore punished here and put off their sins is evident from these things.

^B 6. That some are punished both here and there, when they do not receive the punishment here worthy of the magnitude of their sins, hear what Christ says concerning the Sodomites; for having said, "Whoever does not receive you, shake off the dust from your feet," he added, saying: "It will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city." For by saying "more tolerable," he indicated this, that even they will be punished, but more lightly, since they paid the penalty here as well. And that there are some who suffer nothing terrible here, but undergo every punishment there, this rich man made clear to us, undergoing inevitable punishment there, and enjoying not even a small solace because his entire punishment was reserved for him there. As, therefore, in the case of those who sin, those who suffer nothing terrible here undergo the greater punishment there, so in the case of those who live rightly, those who suffer many terrible things here will enjoy great honor there. And just as with two sinners, if one is punished here and the other is not, the one who is punished is more blessed than the one who is not punished; so indeed with two righteous men, if one undergoes more afflictions and the other fewer, the one who undergoes the more is more blessed, since He will render to each according to his works.

What then? Is there no one, he says, who enjoys relief both here and there? This is impossible, O man, and one of the things that cannot be. For it is not, it is not possible for one who enjoys laziness and ease here, and who delights continuously in everything, and who lives his life idly and simply, to enjoy honor there. For even if poverty does not annoy, yet desire annoys, and one is held by this, and the struggle in this is not small; even if disease does not harass, yet anger burns, and it is no small pain to overcome wrath; even if trials are not brought upon one, yet evil thoughts are constantly rising up. And it is no small thing to bridle unruly desire, to stop vainglory, to restrain arrogance, to withdraw from luxury, to live in self-denial; for it is impossible for the one who does not do these and such things ever to be saved. And that those who live in luxury are not saved, hear what Paul says concerning a widow: "But she who is self-indulgent is dead while she lives." And if this is said concerning a woman, much more so concerning a man. And that it is not possible for one living a relaxed life to attain the heavens, Christ himself made this clear, saying thus: "Narrow and straitened is the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it."

How then, he says, does He say, "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light"? "If the way is narrow and straitened," how does He again call it light and easy? The one is because of the nature of the temptations, the other because of the intention of those who traverse it. For it is possible for what is unbearable by nature to become light when we accept it with readiness of mind; just as the apostles, having been scourged, returned rejoicing that they were counted worthy to be dishonored for the name of the Lord; and yet the nature of the tortures is accustomed to produce affliction and pain, but the intention of those who were scourged conquered even the nature of the things. For this reason Paul also says: "Indeed all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted." So that even if a man does not persecute, yet the devil wars against us; and we need much philosophy and great endurance, so that we may be sober and vigilant in our prayers, so that we may not desire what belongs to others, so that we may distribute what we have to those in need, so that we may say that we must groan and lament at every luxury, and by what we wear and by our table, so that we may flee greed, so that we may flee drunkenness, so that we may flee calumny, so that we may control our tongue, so that we may not even shout disorderly ("For all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and blasphemy must be put away from you"), so that we may not use foul language, so that we may not tell loose jests. And this labor is not small, to demonstrate a precise observation of these things. And that you may learn how much it is to live philosophically, and that the matter does not admit of relaxation, hear what Paul says: "I buffet my body and make it a slave"; for by saying this, he hinted at the force and the great labor which it is necessary for those to endure who wish to make the body manageable in all things. And Christ also said to his disciples: "In the world you will have tribulation; but take heart, I have overcome the world." This, he says, this tribulation procures relaxation for you; the present life is a wrestling-ground; and on the wrestling-ground and in the contests, one who is destined to be crowned could not enjoy relaxation. So that if one wishes to be crowned, let him choose a hard and laborious life, so that after having labored for a brief time here, he may enjoy eternal honor there.

[746] 7. How many despondencies befall one day by day? And how great a soul one must have not to be vexed,

^A but to give thanks, to glorify, and to worship Him who permits these temptations to be brought upon us! How many unexpected events, how many straits! And one must crush evil thoughts, and not allow the tongue to utter anything perverse; just as the blessed Job, having suffered thousands of things, remained giving thanks to God.

There are some who, if they stumble in anything, or are reviled by someone, or fall into sickness, or gout, or headache, or any other such malady, blaspheme immediately; and they endure the pain of the disease, but are deprived of the reward. What are you doing, O man, blaspheming your Benefactor and Savior and Protector and Guardian? Do you not perceive that you are being carried toward a precipice, and casting yourself into a pit of extreme perdition? For, if you blaspheme, do you make the affliction lighter? On the contrary, you intensify it and make the pain more grievous. For this reason the devil brings thousands of terrible things, so that he may drag you down into that pit; and if he sees you blaspheming, he easily increases the anguish and makes it greater, so that ^B being pricked, you may despair again; but if he sees you bearing it nobly, and that the more the affliction is intensified, the more you give thanks to God, he departs immediately, as having beset you in vain and to no purpose. And just as a dog standing by a table, if it sees the person eating constantly throwing it something from what is lying on the table, it remains perpetually; but if, having stood by once or twice, it goes away having received nothing, it departs at last, as having beset you in vain and to no purpose; so also the devil is constantly gaping at us; if you throw him, like a dog, a blasphemous word, having received it he will attach himself again; but if you remain giving thanks, you have choked him with hunger, and quickly chased him away, and made him leap off. But you cannot keep silent, being pricked by the pain. Nor do I forbid you to speak, but instead of blasphemy, [offer] thanksgiving, and instead of despair, praise. Beseech the Master, praying with great intensity, cry out loudly glorifying God; thus the affliction is also lightened for you, since the devil departs through thanksgiving, and God’s help comes to pass. For if you blaspheme, you have repelled God’s alliance, and you have made the devil more fierce against yourself, and you have filled yourself more with anguish; but if you give thanks, you have repelled the plots of the evil demon, and you have drawn the healing of the guardian God ^C toward yourself.

But by habit, the tongue often hastens to utter that evil word. But whenever it hastens, before you bring the word forth, bite it all around thoroughly with your teeth. It is better for it to bleed now, than then to burn for a drop and not be able to obtain this consolation; it is better for it to endure a temporary pain, than then to suffer the punishment of eternal torment, just as the rich man’s tongue [747] then, ^D burning, obtained no consolation. God commanded you to love your enemies; but do you turn away from God, who loves you? To speak well of those who abuse you, to bless those who revile you; but do you speak ill of the Benefactor and Protector, having been wronged in nothing? For could He not have loosed the temptation? But He permitted it, so that you might become more approved. "But look," he says, "I am falling and perishing." It is not because of the nature of the temptation, but because of your own sloth. For what is easier, tell me, blasphemy or thanksgiving? Does not the former render even those who hear it your enemies and foes, and cast [you] into despondency, and after these things produces much pain; whereas the latter brings you thousands of crowns of philosophy, and thousands of expressions of admiration from all, and great rewards from God? Why therefore, having abandoned that which is beneficial and easy and pleasant, do you pursue the thing that harms and grieves and wastes away in its stead? Otherwise, if the affliction of temptation and poverty were the cause of blasphemies, all who are in poverty ought to blaspheme; but now, of those living in extreme poverty, many give thanks perpetually, while others, enjoying wealth and luxury, do not cease from blaspheming; thus, it is not the nature of things, but our own will that produces this and that.

For this reason we have read this parable, so that you may learn that wealth does not profit the slothful person, and poverty cannot harm the attentive one. And what do I say, poverty? Even if all the evils among men were to come together, they will never test the soul of the one who loves God and is a philosopher, nor will they persuade him to depart from virtue (and of these things Lazarus is a witness); just as, therefore, wealth, health, and constant prosperity will never be able to benefit the flaccid and dissolute person at all.

8. Let us not say, therefore, that poverty and disease and the surrounding of dangers compel one to blaspheme. It is not poverty, but foolishness; not disease, but scorn; it is not the surrounding of dangers, but the absence of piety, that leads those who are not attentive into blasphemy and every vice.

But for what reason, he says, are some punished here, and some there, and not all here? For what reason? Because if this were the case, we would all have perished; for we are all under penalty. Again, if no one were punished here, the majority would have become more slothful, and many would have said that there is no providence. For if now, seeing many of the wicked being punished, they utter many such blasphemies, if even this were not the case, what would they not have said? To what depth of vice would they not have descended? For this reason God punishes some here, and some He does not punish; for He punishes some, cutting off their vice, and rendering the punishment there lighter, or even delivering them entirely, and making those who live in wickedness more temperate by the punishment of these; but others He does not punish again, so that if they themselves [748] are attentive, having repented and reverenced the long-suffering of God, they may be delivered both from the punishment here and from the torment there—but if they persist, having done nothing...

^A of these things, then it is not God who is to blame, but their own sloth, in that they were unwilling to use such medicines for their own salvation. And that you may learn that He does this for this reason, pay heed. Pilate once mingled the blood of the Galileans with their sacrifices, and some came and reported this very thing to Christ; and He says: "Do you think that those Galileans were sinners alone? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish." Again, others eighteen were crushed by the fall of a tower; and concerning them He said the same things. For by saying, "Do you think that they were the only sinners?" No, I tell you, He showed that even those who were alive were liable for the same things; and by saying, "Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish," He showed that He allowed those to suffer for this reason, so that the living, having been terrified by what happened to the others and having repented, might become heirs of the kingdom. What, then? Is he punished so that I might become better? he says. Not for this reason; but he is punished for his own sin, yet it becomes, from the abundance of God's goodness, an occasion of salvation for those who pay attention, by making them more diligent through the fear of what happened to him. Thus, masters often do this: having scourged one servant, they make the others more sensible through fear. When, therefore, you see some

future candidate for pleasing God ^A and being approved and pure, he ought not to pursue a life of ease, softness, and dissipation, but one that is strenuous and full of many labors and sweats; for no one, he says, is crowned unless he competes lawfully. And elsewhere: *Everyone who competes exercises self-control in all things*—from words, he says, and from glances, and from shameful sounds, and from insults, and from blasphemy, and from shameful talk. From this we learn that even if no temptation is brought upon us from without, we must train ourselves every day with fastings, hardships, plain food, and a modest table, fleeing luxury everywhere; for otherwise it is not possible to please God. Let no one say to me that cold remark: "Such and such a person has these things here, and also there." It is impossible for those who are wealthy, living in luxury, and sinning to obtain both. But if one must say this, it can be said of those who are afflicted and in straits: that they possess both here and there. For they possess what is there, enjoying the reward, and they possess what is here, being nourished by the hopes of those things, not even noticing their present terrible circumstances through the expectation of the future good things. But let us hear what follows. *And besides all these things*, he says, *a great chasm is fixed between us and you.* ^B Well did David say, then, that *a brother does not redeem; he will not give to God the ransom for himself.* For it is not possible, even if it is a brother, or a father, or a son. For see: Abraham called the rich man "child," yet he was not able to show the father's affection; the rich man called Abraham "father," yet it was not possible for the child to enjoy the paternal benevolence, so that you might learn that neither kinship, nor friendship, nor partiality, nor anything else that exists can help one who has been betrayed by his own life.

10. I say these things because many people often, when we exhort them to pay attention to themselves and to be sober, are sluggish and turn the exhortation into laughter, saying: "Will you stand up for me on that day?" And, "I am confident, and I do not fear." Another says, "I have a father who is a martyr," and another, "A grandfather who is a bishop." Others, again, bring forward all those in their own household. But all these words are cold; for the virtue of others will not be able to help us then. Remember those virgins who ^C did not share the oil with the five virgins; but the ones entered into the bridal chamber, and the others were shut out. It is a great good to have the hopes of salvation in one’s own achievements; for no friend stands up for one there, ever. For if He says to Jeremiah here, *Do not entreat for this people*, where there are masters of the ability to change, how much more so there? What are you saying? You have a father as a witness? This very thing will be able to condemn you more, when, having examples of virtue from home, you show yourself unworthy of the ancestral virtue. But you have a noble and wondrous friend? Not even he will stand by you then. How then does He say, *Make for yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness, so that when you fail, they may receive you into the eternal dwellings?* Friendship is not the thing that stands up for one there, but almsgiving. For if friendship alone stood up for one, He would have had to say simply, "Make for yourselves friends"; but now, showing that friendship alone does not stand up for one, He added, *By means of the unrighteous mammon.* And yet someone might say, "I can make a friend without mammon, and even more earnestly, than through mammon." But so that you may learn that it is almsgiving that stands up for one, and your own labor and achievement—not in friendships that are of the holy ones simply, but in the friendships that are made through mammon—He persuaded you to be confident. Knowing all these things, therefore, beloved, let us pay attention to ourselves with all precision; and even if we are being chastened, let us give thanks; and even if we live in prosperity, let us secure ourselves, and by the punishments of others being made sensible, let us give thanks through repentance and compunction and continuous confession; and if anything has been done amiss by us in the present life, having put it away, and with much zeal having wiped away every stain of our soul, let us entreat God to deem all of us worthy, having dissolved our ties here, so to depart there ^D, that we may not be with the rich man, but with Lazarus, having enjoyed the bosom of the Patriarch, and may we enjoy the immortal good things; of which may it be granted to all of us to attain, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be the glory, together with the holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen.

On the Rich Man and Lazarus, Fourth Discourse; and that it is the custom of the conscience to remind us of past sins; and on Joseph.

1. It is necessary today to render the end of the parable of Lazarus. For you perhaps think the whole matter has been completed for us; but I shall not use your ignorance for deception, nor will I depart before I have taken away all that is visible; for a vinedresser of a vineyard that has been completely harvested does not depart before he crops even the grapes. Since, therefore, even now I see, as if under leaves, ideas still hidden in the letters, come, let us use the discourse as a sickle and harvest these also with precision. For a vine, once harvested, stands bare of fruit, having only leaves; but the spiritual vine of the divine Scriptures is not so, but if we have removed all that is visible, the greater part remains.

^A Many, indeed, even before us have spoken on this subject, and many perhaps will speak after us; but no one will be able to exhaust all the wealth. For such is the nature of this abundance: the deeper you dig, the more it will gush forth with divine meanings; for it is a fountain that never fails.

And we ought to have paid you this debt in the former assembly, but we did not deem it safe to pass over the accomplishments of the blessed Babylas and the pair of holy martyrs who followed him. Therefore, we deferred the payment, keeping the settlement entire for your present day. Come then, since we have rendered praises to the fathers—not those according to their merit, but those according to our power—let us render to you the remainder of this narrative. But do not grow weary until we arrive at the end, taking up the discourse from where we left it previously. And where did we leave it? In the chasm that separates the righteous from the sinners. For when the rich man said, "Send Lazarus," Abraham said to him: "A great chasm is fixed between us and you, so that those who wish to pass from here to us cannot, nor do they pass from there to here." And we showed through many of the things said that, after the philanthropy of God, one ought to place hopes of salvation in one’s own accomplishments, not counting fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers, nor kinsmen and friends and neighbors. For "a brother does not redeem; shall a man redeem?" But whatever those who have departed from here with sins may entreat and plead, they will speak all in vain and to no purpose. For even the five virgins entreated their peers for oil, and did not succeed; and he who hid the talent in the earth, having made many apologies, was condemned again; and those who did not feed him when he was hungry, nor give him drink when he was thirsty, and who themselves thought to take refuge in ignorance, even they did not obtain pardon and excuse. Others could not even say anything, like that man who was wearing the soiled garments; for when called to account, he kept silent. Not only this man, but also another who bore malice against his neighbor and exacted one hundred denarii, then when called to account by the Master for these very things for his cruelty and inhumanity, had nothing to say. ^B Whence it is clear that nothing will defend us there if we do not have good works; but whether we plead and entreat, or whether we are silent, the things of punishment and retribution will come upon us in the same way. Hear, then, how even this man, having asked two requests of Abraham, failed in both. For at first, he was making intercession for himself, saying, "Send Lazarus"; and later, no longer for himself, but for his brothers; but he accomplished no request. For the former was impossible, and the latter, that for the brothers, was superfluous. Nevertheless, if it pleases you, let us hear the words themselves with much diligence. For if, when a judge in the midst of the marketplace leads along a condemned man, and has surrounded him with executioners, and is lacerating the guilty one, all flock together with great eagerness desiring to hear what the judge asks and what the condemned man answers—much more here must we listen with precision to what this condemned man, I mean the rich man, requests, and what the righteous judge answers through Abraham. For the patriarch was not the one judging, even if he himself was speaking; but just as in those exterior courts, when there are some guilty robbers and murderers, the laws force them to stand far from the sight of the judge, and do not permit them to hear the voice of the one passing judgment—even while disgracing them with others in this—but some intermediary serves the questions of the judge and the answers of those being judged: so it was even then. The condemned man was not hearing God speaking to him, but Abraham was the intermediary, serving the things from the judge to the one being judged. For he did not speak from his own resources what he said, but he was reading divine laws to him, and speaking the sentences brought from above. Wherefore this man did not even have anything to gainsay.

^C

Fourth Homily

Let us, therefore, pay attention with precision to what is being said. For I am dwelling on this parable intentionally, and, having had it for the fourth day, I do not depart from it, since I see much profit coming from this narrative for both the rich and the poor, and for those who are troubled by the prosperity of the wicked and the poverty and affliction of the righteous. For nothing is accustomed to scandalize and disturb the many so much as the fact that the rich, living in wickedness, enjoy great prosperity, and those who live righteously are driven to extreme poverty, and endure ten thousand other more grievous things of poverty. But this parable is sufficient to provide the medicines, sobering the rich and comforting the poor; instructing the former not to think highly of themselves, and comforting the poor in their present circumstances; persuading the former not to be boastful when, being wicked, they do not pay the penalty here, as the most grievous punishment will meet them there; and encouraging the latter not to be disturbed by the prosperity of others, nor to think that our affairs are without providence, when a righteous man suffers badly here, while a wicked and base man enjoys continuous prosperity. For both will receive what they deserve there, the one the crowns of patience and endurance, the other the chastisements and punishments of wickedness. Write this parable, both rich and poor: the rich on the walls of your house, and the poor on the walls of your mind; and if it is ever erased by the forgetfulness occurring, overlay it again through memory from above. Or rather, let the rich also trace it in their minds before the house, and carry it around constantly, and it will be a school for you and a subject of all philosophy. For if we have this constantly 754 written in the mind, neither will the joyful things of the present life be able to puff us up, nor the painful things to humble and cast us down; but as we are disposed toward paintings on the walls, so will we be toward both these things. For just as when we see a rich man and a poor man painted on the walls, we do not envy the former, nor do we despise the latter, because they are a shadow and not the reality of things...

so too, if we were to understand aright the nature of riches and poverty, of glory and dishonor, and of everything else—both the gloomy and the joyful—we would be freed from the instability that arises in us from each of these. For all these things are more deceptive than a shadow, and neither the lofty and noble ones, nor those that are brilliant and celebrated, will be able to raise a man up, nor will those that are lowly and rejected be able to cast him down. ^A But it is time for us now to hear the words of the rich man. "I ask you, father," he says—that is, I beseech, I beg, I entreat—"that you would send Lazarus to my father's house; for I have five brothers; that he may testify to them, that they also come not into this place of torment."

Since he failed in his own case, he makes his petition on behalf of others. See how he has become philanthropic and gentle under the influence of punishment! For he who despised Lazarus when he was present, now cares for others who are absent; he who passed by the one lying before his eyes now remembers those who are not seen, and considers them worthy of much honor and care, so that there might be some foresight for them to escape the evils that are about to overtake them. And he asks that Lazarus be sent to his father's house, where his struggles were and the stadium of virtue lay open. "Let them see him crowned," he says, "they who saw him competing! The witnesses of his poverty and hunger and countless evils, let them become witnesses of his honor, of his transformation, of all his glory, so that having been instructed and having learned from both sides that our affairs will not end with the present life, they might so prepare themselves as to be able to avoid this punishment and torment." ^B What then does Abraham say? "They have Moses and the prophets," he says, "let them hear them." Not so, he says; you do not care for your brothers as the God who made them does. He has set over them countless teachers to admonish, to advise, and to warn them. What then does he himself say again? "No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will believe him." These are the words of the multitude. Where now are those who say, "Who has come from there? Who has risen from the dead? Who has told us what is in Hades?" How many such and so great things did that rich man say to himself when he was wallowing in luxury? For he did not simply ask for someone to rise from the dead; but because he used to despise the Scriptures as he heard them, and used to ridicule them, and thought what was said to be myths, he thought the same concerning his brothers, based on what he himself was suffering. "They too," he says, "expect such things; but if someone goes from the dead, they will not disbelieve him, they will not ridicule him, but will rather pay attention to what is said." What then does Abraham say? "If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead." And that this is true, namely that the person who does not hear the Scriptures will not hear even those rising from the dead, was shown by the Jews, who, because they did not hear Moses and the prophets, did not believe even when they saw the dead rising; but now they were attempting ^C to kill Lazarus, and now they were attacking the apostles, even though many dead arose at the time of the cross.

^D 3. But that you may learn from another perspective that the teaching of the prophets is more worthy of belief than the announcement by those who are risen, consider that while every dead person is a servant, the things that the Scriptures utter are the things that the Master has uttered; so that even if a dead person rises, even if an angel should descend from heaven, the Scriptures must be more worthy of belief than all of them. For the Master of angels, and the Lord of the dead and the living, is the very one who ordained those Scriptures. And that those who seek for the dead to come from there are seeking what is superfluous, can be shown, in addition to what has been said, also from the courts of justice present among us. Gehenna is not visible to the faithless—for to the faithful it is clear and manifest—but yet to the faithless it is not visible. However, the courts of justice are visible, and every day we hear that so-and-so was punished, the property of such-and-such was confiscated, another is working in the mines, another was burned with fire, and another perished by some other way of punishment and retribution. But yet, hearing these things, the wicked and evildoers and charlatans do not become sober-minded. And what am I to say, if those who have never encountered these things do not become sober? Often many of these men, having been caught and having escaped punishment, and having broken through the prison and leaped away, have again turned to the same things, and have committed deeds much worse than these.

Let us not, therefore, seek to hear these things from the dead, which the Scriptures teach us far more clearly every day. For if God had known that dead men rising would have benefited the living, He would not have passed it over, nor would He have left out such a benefit, He who arranges all things for our advantage. Apart from these things, if the dead were going to rise continually and report all things there to us, this too would in time have been despised again; and in addition to this, the devil would have introduced evil doctrines with great ease. For he could show idols many times, or even prepare some to feign death and be buried, and then show them as though they had risen from the dead, and through them be believed by the minds of those being deceived. For if now, with no such thing existing, dreams often appearing in visions of those who have departed have deceived and corrupted many, how much more if this had happened and had taken hold in the minds of men—namely that many who had departed returned again—would that filthy demon have woven ten thousand snares, and introduced much deception into life. For this reason God shut the doors, and does not allow any of those who have departed to return and tell of things there, so that he may not take an opportunity from this to introduce everything of his own. For even when there were prophets, he raised up false prophets; and when there were apostles, false apostles; and when Christ appeared, false christs; and when sound doctrines were introduced, he introduced corrupted ones, sowing tares everywhere. So that if this had happened, he would have attempted to feign this also through his own instruments, not raising the dead in truth, but by some sorceries and deceptions deceiving the eyes of those who see, or even preparing some, as I have already said, to feign death, he would have turned all things upside down and confounded them. But God, foreknowing all these things, blocked his scheme

^A and, sparing us, did not allow anyone who had come from there to converse with living men about the things in that place, teaching us to consider the divine Scriptures more trustworthy than all else. For He showed us things far clearer than the resurrection of the dead; He converted the whole world, He drove away error, He brought back the truth; He accomplished all these things through fishermen and humble men, and He provided sufficient proofs of His own providence everywhere. Let us not, therefore, imagine that our affairs are confined to the present life, but let us believe that there will absolutely be a judgment and a requital for everything done by us here.

For this is so clear and evident to all, that Jews and Greeks and heretics, and any man whatsoever, are of one mind regarding these things. For even if not all philosophize about the resurrection as they ought, yet regarding the judgment and the punishment and the tribunals there, all agree that there is some requital there for what is done here. For if this were not so, for what reason did He stretch out such a heaven, spread out the earth, unfold the sea, pour forth the air, and display such great providence, if He did not intend to provide for us unto the end?

^B 2. Do you not see how many, having lived in virtue, have departed having suffered ten thousand terrible things, having received no good thing in return? And others, again, having displayed great wickedness, having seized the possessions of others, having stripped and tyrannized over widows and orphans, have departed having enjoyed wealth and luxury and ten thousand good things, without having suffered even the slightest ill?

When, then, will either those former ones receive the rewards of their virtue, or these latter pay the penalties for their wickedness, if our affairs stand as they are until the present? For that if God exists—as indeed He does—He is just, every person whatsoever would say; and that if He is just, He will render to both the one group and the other according to their deserts, this too is agreed upon. But if He is to render to both these and those according to their deserts, and here none of them has received it—neither the one the judgment for his wickedness, nor the other the rewards of his virtue—it is clear that there remains some time in which both these groups will receive the fitting requital.

And for what reason did God, in our [757] mind, establish a judge so continuously wakeful and sober? I speak of the conscience. For there is not, there is not any judge among men as wakeful as our conscience. For judges from without are corrupted by money, and are softened by flatteries, and dissemble out of fear, and there are many other things that damage their upright verdict; but the tribunal of the conscience knows not how to yield to any of these things. But even if you give money, even if you flatter, even if you threaten, even if you do anything else whatsoever, it will bring forth a just verdict against the sinful thoughts; and he himself who has committed the sin condemns himself, even if no other accuses him. And not once, nor twice, but he continues doing this often and throughout his whole life; and even if much time passes, he will never forget what has happened, but both while the sin is being committed, and before it is committed, and after it has been committed, a ^C harsh accuser stands over us, and especially after it has been committed. For while we are acting out the sin, being intoxicated by pleasure, we do not feel it so much; but when it has been done and has run its course, then indeed most of all, with all the pleasure extinguished, the bitter sting of repentance enters in, contrary to the experience of women in labor. For in their case, before the birth, the pain is great and unbearable and the pangs are sharp, cutting them through with their torments; but after the birth, there is relief, the pain having left with the infant. Here, however, it is not so; but as long as we are in labor and conceiving the corrupted thoughts, we are glad and rejoice; but when we have brought forth the wicked child, sin, then, seeing the deformity of what has been born, we are pained—then we are cut through more severely than women in labor. Wherefore I exhort you, above all, not to accept a corrupted desire in the beginning; but if we do accept it, to strangle the seeds within. And if we should be too slothful even for this, when the sin has gone forth into action, to kill it again through confession and tears, through accusing ourselves. For nothing is so destructive to sin as accusation and condemnation along with repentance and tears. Have you condemned your sin? You have cast off the burden. And who says these things? God Himself, who is the Judge. Say you your sins first, that you may be justified. For why are you ashamed and blushing, tell me, to speak of your sins? For you are not speaking to a man, that he might reproach you; you are not confessing to a fellow-servant, that he might make it public. You are showing your wound to the Master, to the guardian, to the lover of mankind, to the Physician.

For even if you do not speak, does He not know, He who knew even before it was done? For what reason, then, do you speak? For does the sin become more burdensome because of your accusation? Rather, it becomes milder and lighter. And for this reason He desires you to speak, not that He may punish, but that He may forgive; not that He Himself may learn of the sin (for how could He, who knows all?), but that [758] you may learn how great a debt He forgives you. But He desires you to learn the greatness of the grace, so that you may continue to be thankful, so that you may be more hesitant toward sin, so that you may be more eager for virtue. If you do not say the greatness of the debt, you do not recognize the magnitude of the grace. I do not force you, He says, to come into a public theater and to bring many witnesses to stand around; tell the sin to Me alone in private, that I may heal the ulcer and deliver you from the pain. For this reason He placed the conscience within us, and it is more affectionate than a father. For a father, having reproved his child once, or twice, or even ten times, when he sees him remaining uncorrected, gives up, disowns him, casts him out of the house, and severs the relationship; but not so the conscience. But even if you tell it once, or twice, or three times, or ten thousand times, and you disregard it, it will speak again, and it does not depart until the final breath; and in the house, and in the streets, and at table, and in the marketplace, and on the roads, and often even in our dreams it—

brings before us the images and fantasies of our past sins.

^B 5. And observe the wisdom of God. He has not made the indictment of the conscience to be perpetual (for we could not bear the burden if we were being accused constantly), nor so weak as to cease after a first or second warning. For if it were going to prick us every single day and hour, we would have been suffocated by despondency; but if it had ceased from its rebuke once or twice, we should not have reaped much benefit. For this reason He made this rebuke perpetual, yet not continuous: perpetual, so that we might not fall into laziness, but rather, being reminded always until the very end, we might remain sober; but not continuous or repetitive, so that we might not collapse, but rather, receiving some relief and consolation, we might be able to breathe. For just as having no pain at all over our sins is destructive and breeds the ultimate insensibility in us, so is it harmful to suffer this continuously and beyond measure.

For the excess of despondency has the power—having often cast down the mind that is within its natural capacity—to submerge the soul and render it useless for all good things. For this reason, He arranged for the conviction of the conscience to be applied at intervals, since it is very sharp and is accustomed to prick the sinner more severely than any goad. For not only when we ourselves sin, but also when others commit the same offenses as we have, is it aroused fiercely and cries out with great intensity against us. For even the fornicator, the adulterer, and the thief—not only when he himself is accused, but when he hears others being accused who have dared such things—thinks he himself is being scourged, receiving a reminder of his own sin in the rebukes of others; and another man is blamed, but this one is struck, though he is accused of nothing, whenever he has dared the same things as that man. Just as, then, in the case of good deeds, when others are praised and crowned, those who have achieved the same things as them rejoice and exult, as if they themselves were being praised rather than the others. What then could be more wretched than the sinner, when he draws back in shame while others are being accused? And what more blessed than one living in virtue, when he rejoices and is refreshed while others are being praised, finding in the praises of others a reminder of his own achievements? These are the works of God’s wisdom, these are the signs of His greatest providence. For the rebuke of conscience is a kind of sacred anchor, not allowing us to be completely submerged into the abyss of sin. For it knows how to remind us of an old sin not only at the time of the sins themselves, but also after the passage of many years; and I shall provide a clear demonstration of this from the Scriptures themselves.

The brothers of Joseph once sold him, having no charge to bring against him, save that he saw dreams which ^C proclaimed beforehand the glory that was to come to him. “For I saw,” he says, “your sheaves doing obeisance to my sheaf.” And yet, they ought to have guarded him because of these things; for he was going to be the crown of the entire house and the splendor of the whole lineage. But such is envy: it wars against its own good, and the envious man would rather suffer ten thousand evils than see his neighbor prosper, even if the glory were going to extend to himself; what could be more wretched than this? What those men suffered, therefore, even when they saw him coming from afar, bringing food to them, they said to one another: “Come, let us kill him, and let us see what his dreams will be.” Even if you did not feel affection for him as a brother, nor did you recognize our common nature, you at least ought to have respected the table itself, and the manner of his service, that he had come to feed you. But observe how even unwillingly they prophesy: “Come,” they say, “let us kill him, and let us see what his dreams will be.” For if they had not schemed, and woven that deceit, and formed that shameless counsel, they would not have known the power of those dreams. For it was not the same thing to be raised to the throne of Egypt without having suffered anything terrible, and to attain this same splendor through so many hindrances and obstacles. For if they had not plotted against him, they would not have sold him into Egypt; if he had not been sold into Egypt, the mistress would not have fallen in love with him; if the mistress had not fallen in love with him, he would not have been cast into prison; he would not have interpreted the visions, he would not have attained the kingdom; and if he had not attained that kingdom, these men would not have come to trade for grain, and bowed down to him. So, since they killed him, for this very reason they recognized his dreams. What then? Did they themselves become the authors of all his future good things and of that prominence? By no means; but they themselves indeed schemed to deliver him over to death, despondency, slavery, and the worst evils; but the resourceful God used the wickedness of the plotters for the good repute of the one who was sold and plotted against.

6. So that the things which happened might not be thought to be a matter of some chance or of a turn of events, God fashions the very things that were being hindered through the very oppositions, through the very obstacles, using His enemies as servants for his own good repute, so that you may learn that what God has determined, no one will disperse, and no one will turn back His uplifted hand; so that when you are plotted against by any men, you may not fall, nor be distressed, but have the knowledge that the plot leads to a good end, provided only that you bear what happens bravely. See, therefore, even here envy gave birth to a kingdom, and jealousy procured a diadem, and brought about a throne, and they themselves ^D who plotted against him, they themselves pushed him toward the magnitude of that authority; and the one plotted against became king, while those who plotted against him served; and he was being bowed down to, while these did the bowing. Whenever, therefore, terrible things that are continuous and repetitive come upon you, do not be troubled, nor distressed, but wait for the end; for everything will eventually turn out to be worthy of God’s great gift, if only you bear with gratitude the things that happen in the meantime. For even he, after those dreams, having been in danger for the ultimate stakes,

And having been sold by his brothers, and plotted against by his mistress, and having fallen again into prison, he did not say to himself: "What is this? Those dreams were a deception, I have fallen from my homeland, I have been deprived of my freedom; for the sake of God I did not yield to the mistress calling me to adultery; for the sake of temperance and virtue I am being punished." And yet, he did not defend himself, nor did he stretch out his hand, but he allowed himself to be surrendered to successive bonds and continuous calamities. For after the pit came slavery, after slavery a plot, after a plot slander, after slander the prison. But nothing of these things disturbed him, but he remained trusting in hope, and knowing that the things spoken would never fail. ^A

For God was able to fulfill them even on that very day, but in order that He might display His own power and the faith of His servants, He allows a long time to intervene, and many obstacles to occur, so that you might learn His power, fulfilling the things promised when one falls into despair, and so that you might see the endurance and faith of his servants, who fall away from no good expectation among the things occurring in the mean time. But, as I was saying, they returned; and famine, like some soldier, was pushing them onto their heads and forcing them upon the ruler Joseph, and they wanted to buy grain. But what does he say to them? "You are spies." And they said among themselves: "What is this? We have come to trade for food, and we are in danger for our lives?" Deservedly, since he also brought food to you, and was in danger for his life; but he indeed endured it in truth, while you suffer this in hypocrisy; for he was not an enemy, but he took on the mask of an enemy, so that he might learn the things concerning his house with accuracy. ^B For since they had been wicked and senseless regarding him, and he did not see Benjamin there with them, fearing for the lad, lest perhaps those ones might have done to him the things they had done to his brother, he orders one of them to be bound and left there; then, after they had all taken the grain, [761] he orders them to depart, having threatened them with death if they did not bring their brother. Since therefore these things happened, and he said, "Leave one here, and bring your brother; but if not, you shall die by death," what did they say to one another there? "Yes, we are in sin concerning our brother, when he was begging us." Do you see how after such a long time they remembered that sin? And to their father they had said: "An evil beast has devoured Joseph"; but with Joseph himself present and listening, they were exposing the sin. What could be more paradoxical than this? A tribunal happens without prosecution, and a defense without an accusation, and a proof without witnesses, with the very ones who committed the deed accusing themselves and parading what had happened in secret. Who persuaded them, who forced them to bring into the open things dared so long ago? Is it not clear that conscience, the unerring judge, was constantly shaking their mind and troubling their soul? ^C And he who had been murdered then sat in silence, judging them; and with no sentence having been passed against them, they themselves brought the vote condemning them. And these ones were saying these things; and another was defending himself, saying: "Did I not speak to you, saying: Do not wrong the lad, nor do him any harm, for he is our brother; and behold now his blood is being sought," he says, "from our hands?" Although he who was saying these things did not say anything of the sort about that murder and slaughter, but he himself while sitting was seeking nothing of the sort, but was seeking the other brother; but their conscience, having seized the opportunity, arose and seized their mind, and with no one forcing it, prepared them to confess the things dared. We, too, often suffer these things, even after our sins have passed; for when we are examined in terrible straits and circumstances, we remember our previous sins.

7. Since you know all these things, then, whenever we do something wicked, let us not wait for calamities and circumstances, nor for dangers and bonds, but every hour and day let us stir up this tribunal in ourselves, and let us bring the votes against ourselves, and let us try in every way to make a defense to God, and let us neither argue ourselves about the resurrection and judgment, nor allow others when they are speaking to go on, but in every way let us stop their mouths with the things mentioned. For God would not have established such a tribunal for us here if we were not about to render an accounting for our transgressions then. But this too is a testimony of His philanthropy. For since He is about to demand an account from us then for our transgressions, He established this just judge, so that by judging us here for our sins, and making us more temperate, it might snatch us away from the judgment to come there. ^D Concerning which Paul also says: "For if we were judging ourselves, we would not be judged by the Lord." So that we might not be punished then, so that we might not render an account then, let each one enter into his own conscience, and having unfolded his life, and having gone over all his transgressions with accuracy, let him condemn the soul that did these things, let him punish his thoughts, let him afflict, let him straiten [762] his own mind, let him demand of himself a penalty for his sins through conviction, through precise repentance, through tears, through confession, through fasting and almsgiving, through continence and love, so that in every way we might be able, by putting away all our sins here, to depart there with much boldness; which may we all attain, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be the glory, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen.

ON THE SAYING OF THE APOSTLE

^AConcerning those who have fallen asleep, I do not wish you to be ignorant, brethren, that you may not grieve. And on Job and Abraham.

1. We have spent four days expounding to you the parable concerning Lazarus, exhausting the treasure which we found lying in a wounded body; a treasure not of gold and silver and costly stones, but of philosophy, and courage, and patience, and great endurance. For just as it often happens with these visible treasures, that the surface contains thorns and thistles roughly spread, but if one digs down, a great wealth appears; so too it happened in the case of Lazarus: on the outside there were wounds, but on the inside, wealth beyond expression; the body was cast aside, but the soul was noble and watchful. It was possible to see that apostolic saying fulfilled in him: "As the outward man is being destroyed, so the inner man is being renewed" (2 Cor. 4:16).

We could have spoken again today on that same parable, and fought against the heretics who slander the Old Testament, who rail against the patriarchs, and who have sharpened their tongues against the God who is the Creator of all; but that the discourse might not become tiresome to you, we will store up those conflicts for another time, and come, let us turn our discourse to a different subject; for just as a table of a single kind of food creates satiety, so various foods stimulate the appetite. Therefore, that this might happen in our hearing, let us return to the blessed Paul today after a long time; for indeed, the apostolic passage was read to us opportunely today, and what is to be said will be in harmony with what was said before. You have heard, therefore, Paul crying out today and saying: "Concerning those who have fallen asleep, I do not wish you to be ignorant, brethren, that you may not grieve, as do the rest who have no hope" (1 Thess. 4:13). That former sound was of the Gospel, the one concerning Lazarus; this is the apostolic voice; but the harmony is one. For in that parable we philosophized much concerning the resurrection and the courts of judgment there, and today the discourse has led us again to the same subject. So that, even if we are opening up an apostolic passage, we shall find the same treasure here as well. For even then, the entire discourse was eager to teach the hearers this: to think that the brilliant things of the present life are nothing, but to press forward in our hopes, and to consider the verdicts there with each passing day, and the awesome tribunal, and the judge who cannot be deceived. ^BThese things Paul also counsels through what has been read to us today. But give heed: "Concerning those who have fallen asleep, I do not wish you to be ignorant, brethren, that you may not grieve, as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus" (1 Thess. 4:13-14).

It is worth our while, first of all, to pause and examine why it is that, when he discourses about Christ, he calls His death "death," but when he speaks of our passing, he names it "sleep" and not death. For he did not say, "Concerning those who have died," but what? "Concerning those who have fallen asleep." And again: "So also will God bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep" (1 Thess. 4:14); and he did not say, "those who have died." And again: "We who are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who have fallen asleep" (1 Thess. 4:15). And not even there did he say, "those who have died," but having mentioned it a third time, for the third time he named their death "sleep." ^CBut concerning Christ, it is not so; but how? "For if we believe that Jesus died" (1 Thess. 4:14). And he did not say, "fell asleep," but "died." Why, then, did he call Christ's death "death," but ours "sleep"? He does not use this distinction of terms simply or idly, but because he is establishing something wise and great. For in the case of Christ, he called it "death" so that he might confirm the Passion; but in our case, he called it "sleep," so that he might comfort our sorrow. For where the resurrection has already occurred, he confidently calls it death; but where the matter is in the realm of hope, he calls it sleep, by this term both comforting us and holding out good hopes. For he who falls asleep will certainly rise again, and death is nothing other than a long sleep. Do not say to me, I beg you, that the one who has finished his life does not hear, nor speak, nor see, nor feel; for neither does the one who is asleep. And if I must say something marvelous, the soul of the one who is sleeping also sleeps in a way, but not so the one who has finished his life; rather, he is awake. But, you say, the one who has finished his life decays and is destroyed, and becomes dust and ashes. And what of that, beloved? Indeed, for this very reason we ought rather to rejoice. For when someone is about to build up a house that has become dilapidated and old, he first casts out those who dwell within, and thus he dismantles the house, and builds it up again more brilliantly.

And those who are cast out are not grieved by what is happening, but are actually gladdened all the more; for they do not pay attention to the dismantling which is seen, but imagine the future building which is not seen. Thus, indeed, God also, being about to do so, dissolves our body, and first brings out the soul that dwells within it, as if from a house, in order that, having built it up more brilliantly, he may bring it in again with greater glory. Let us not, therefore, pay attention to the dismantling, but to the coming brilliance.

^B ß΄. Again, if someone has a statue corrupted by rust and time, and with many of its parts broken off, he breaks it to pieces, casts it into a furnace, and, having melted it down thoroughly, he gives it back more brilliant. Just as, therefore, the breaking to pieces in the furnace is not a disappearance, but a kind of renewal of that statue, so also death is not some destruction of our bodies, but a renewal. When, therefore, you see our flesh flowing down and rotting, as if in a furnace, do not stop at this sight, but wait for the re-smelting; and do not be satisfied with the measure of this example, but proceed with your reasoning to what is primary. For the sculptor, having cast in a bronze body, does not give you back the statue in gold and immortal, but makes it bronze again; but God does not so, rather, having cast in a clay and mortal body, he gives you back the statue in gold and immortal; for the earth, receiving the body that is corruptible and decaying, gives it back [as] the same, incorruptible and undefiled. Do not, therefore, see that one who has closed his eyes, who lies speechless, but the one who is rising, the one who is receiving glory ineffable and awesome and marvelous, and transfer your thoughts from the present sight to the future hope. But are you seeking for companionship, and for this reason do you lament and weep? And how is it not absurd, if you gave your little daughter to a bridegroom, and then he took her and went away to a far country, and continued living well, to consider nothing that has happened to be terrible, [but] to console the discouragement of the departure with the report of his well-being; yet in this case, when not a human, nor some fellow-servant, but the Master Himself has taken the one who belongs to Him, to grieve and weep?

And how is it possible, he says, for a man not to grieve? I do not say this, nor do I do away with the discouragement, but [only] the excess of discouragement; for to be discouraged is of human nature, but to do this beyond measure is of madness and derangement and a womanish soul. Feel sorrow, shed tears, but do not be overwhelmed, do not be vexed, do not be indignant; give thanks to the One who is taking him, so that [765] you may adorn the one who has departed, and send with him these brilliant funeral rites. For if you are vexed, you have both insulted him, and provoked the One who has taken [him], and harmed yourself; but if you give thanks, you have both adorned him, and glorified the One who has taken [him], and benefited yourself. Shed tears as your Master shed tears for Lazarus, setting for us measures and canons and boundaries of discouragement which one must not overstep. Thus Paul also said: "But concerning those who have fallen asleep," he says, "I do not want you to be ignorant, so that you may not grieve, as also the rest who have no hope." Grieve, he says, but not as a Greek who despairs of the resurrection, [as one] who despairs of the life to come.

^C I am ashamed, believe me, and I blush, seeing through the marketplace choirs of women acting unbecomingly, tearing their hair, cutting their arms, scratching their cheeks, with these things happening under the eyes of the Greeks. For what will those people not say? What will they not utter about us? "Are these the ones who philosophize about the resurrection?" Indeed, they are. For the happenings do not agree with the dogmas; in words they philosophize about the resurrection, and in deeds they do the things of those who have given up all hope: if these people had confidence that there is a resurrection, they would not have done these things; if they had been convinced themselves that this one had departed to a better fate, they would not have mourned. These things and things even beyond these do the unbelievers say, hearing those lamentations. Let us therefore be ashamed, and let us be sober, and let us not cause such great harm both to ourselves and to those who see [us]. For for what reason, tell me, do you weep so for the one who has departed? Because he was wicked? Then for this reason one ought to give thanks, that the course of wickedness was cut short for him. But he was good and gentle? And for this reason one ought to rejoice, that he was snatched away quickly, before he could change his understanding by wickedness, and went away to a place where he stands henceforth in security, and there is no shift to suspect. But he was young? And for this reason glorify the One who took [him], that He called him quickly to the better fate. But [he was] old? And for this reason give thanks and glorify the One who took [him] again. Be ashamed of the formality of the funeral procession; psalmody, and prayers, and an assembly of fathers, and such a multitude of brothers, not so that you might weep and lament and be overwhelmed, but so that you might give thanks to the One who has taken [him]. For just as many escort with acclamations those who are called to authority, so also do all escort with much acclamation those of the saints who are departing, inasmuch as they have been called to higher honor.

Death is a rest, a release from the sweats and cares of life. When, therefore, you see one of your own having departed from here, do not be vexed, but be pricked in heart, return to yourself, examine your conscience, consider that this end awaits you also a little later. Become more sober and receive fear from the death of another, and cut off all slothfulness, reflect upon the deeds you have done, correct the things you have sinned, make the best change. In this we differ from the unbelievers, in having different judgments concerning things. The unbeliever sees the heaven, and worships; for he thinks it is god; he sees the earth, [766] and reverences, and gapes at sensible things. But we [are] not so; but we see the heaven, and we marvel at the One who made it; for we do not believe it to be God Himself, but the work of God. I see the whole of creation, and through it I am guided to the Creator. That one sees wealth, and gapes and is struck; I see wealth, and I laugh at it. That one sees poverty, and laments; I see poverty, and I rejoice. Otherwise do I view things, and otherwise that one. Thus also we do in the case of death: that one sees a corpse, and thinks it to be a corpse; I see a corpse, and I see sleep instead of death. And just as with letters we see them with the same eyes, both those who know and those who do not know the letters, yet not with the same mind, but those who do not know the letters simply think they are what is seen, while those who know [them understand] with much skill the [meaning] stored within.

^C Just so, in the case of actual events, with the same eyes we behold what happens, but not with the same understanding and judgment. Why, then, should we, who differ from all others in every other respect, collapse in our thinking regarding death?

^C 3. Consider toward whom he has departed, and take comfort: where Paul is, where Peter is, where the entire choir of the saints is. Consider how he will rise again, with how much glory and brightness. Consider that, by mourning and lamenting, you will neither be able to correct what has happened by your laments, nor will you fail to harm yourself to the utmost. Consider whom you are imitating by doing this, and flee the communion of sin. Whom, then, do you imitate and emulate? The unbelievers, those who have no hope, just as Paul also said: "In order that you may not grieve as do the others who have no hope." And pay attention to the precision of the expression; for he did not say, "those who do not have the hope of the resurrection," but simply, "those who do not have hope." For he who does not have the hope of the judgment to come has no hope at all, nor does he know that there is a God, nor that He provides for current events, nor that a divine justice oversees all things. But he who neither knows nor believes these things is more irrational than any beast, having banished laws, courts, ordinances, and all goodness whatsoever from his own soul. For he who does not expect to render an account for things done will abstain from all virtue and will cling to all vice. ^D Having considered these things, then, and having contemplated the senselessness and madness of the Greeks—with whom we share in these lamentations—let us flee from agreement with them. For it was for this reason that Paul also made mention of them, so that, having contemplated the dishonor into which you are falling, you might recover your senses from the agreement with them and return to your own nobility. And not only here, but the blessed Paul does this in many places and frequently. For when he wishes to lead us away from sins, he shows us with whom we are sharing through those sins, so that, being stung by the quality of the person, you might flee the communion. Written to the Thessalonians, at any rate, he said thus: "Each of you knows how to possess his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of dishonor, as do the nations who do not know God." And again: "Do not walk as the rest of the nations walk in the vanity of their mind." Thus, indeed, also here: "But I do not wish you to be ignorant, brothers, concerning those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve as do the others who have no hope." For it is not the nature of things, but our own disposition that is accustomed to grieve us; not the death of the one who has departed, but the weakness of those who lament. Thus, nothing of the present things will be able to grieve the faithful one, but even in the present he stands apart from the unbelievers before the future blessings, receiving not small benefits from the philosophy according to Christ, and reaping from this the greatest cheerfulness and constant joy. For which reason Paul also says: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice." So that even before the resurrection we have received this no small reward: not to collapse at any of the evils that befall us, but to enjoy much comfort in the hope of future things. As, therefore, we gain on both sides, so the unbeliever is harmed on both sides, both by being punished later on account of his unbelief in the resurrection, and by collapsing under present events because he expects nothing good after these things. Therefore, we ought to give thanks to God not only for the resurrection, but also for the hope of the resurrection, which is able to comfort even the grieving soul and to persuade us to be confident concerning those who have departed, as being about to rise again and to be with us. For if it is necessary to be pained and to mourn, those who live in sins should mourn and lament, not those who have departed with virtue. Thus also Paul does; for writing to the Corinthians he says: "Lest, when I come to you, God may humble me, and I shall mourn for many." He did not say "of the dead," but of those who had previously sinned and not repented of the licentiousness and impurity they committed; these it is necessary to mourn. Thus also another admonishes, saying: "Weep for the dead, for light has failed; and weep for the fool, for understanding has failed. Weep a little for the dead, because he has rested; but the life of the fool is more evil than death." And if he who is deprived of understanding is always worthy to be lamented, much more so is he who is destitute of righteousness and has fallen away from the hope according to God. These, therefore, let us mourn; for this mourning holds a profit. Often, at any rate, by lamenting such people, we have corrected them. But that which is over those who have departed is at once useless and harmful. Let us not, therefore, reverse the order, but let us mourn sin alone; as for all other things, if it be poverty, or illness, or untimely death, or insult, or slander, or whatever else of human evils befalls us, let us bear all things nobly. For these evils are a premise for us of more crowns, if we are sober.

4. "

^A For when a man loses wicked children, he is bitten by the suffering, yet not with great vehemence; for the wickedness of those who have departed does not allow the pain to become sharper. But when they are also virtuous, the wound becomes permanent, the memory un-forgetting, the evil inconsolable, the sting double—the one from nature, and the other from the virtue of those who departed. And that they were virtuous, is clear from this: their father took great care of them, and rising up he offered sacrifices on their behalf, and was fearful even for their hidden sins, and nothing was more precious to him than this. But this shows not only the virtue of the children, but also the father’s tender affection. Since, therefore, he was both a father and so tenderly affectionate, not showing only the longing that comes from nature, but also that which comes from piety, and since those who departed were also so virtuous, the fire of his grief becomes triple. Again, when they are snatched away in parts, the affliction has some consolation; for those who are left behind overshadow the grief for those who have departed. But when the whole choir departs, to whom will the man of many children, having suddenly become childless, be able to look? Along with these there is also, so to speak, a seventh plague. What is this, then? Their all being snatched away at once. For if, when some have passed away in three or five days, women and all their relatives wail about this most of all, because the deceased was snatched ^B quickly and suddenly from their sight, how much more would this man have grieved, having had them all taken away thus, not in three or two days, but in a single hour? For what has been dwelt upon by time, even if it be very unbearable, might become light easily through expectation; but what happens against expectation and suddenly becomes unbearable. When, therefore, something is grievous in itself, and also receives the addition of having happened against expectation, consider how unbearable it becomes, and how it surpasses all speech. Do you wish to hear also of the sixth plague? He destroyed them all in the very bloom of their age. And you know how untimely deaths bite, and make the mourning manifold. But this was not only untimely, but also violent, so as to be a seventh plague; for he did not see them breathing their last and in their death throes on a bed, but all buried in their house. Consider, then, who it was digging out that rubble, and now pulling up a stone, and now a limb of a child, and seeing a hand still holding a vessel, and another right hand lying on a platter, and the form of the body itself corrupted, the nose crushed, the head shattered, the eyes vanished, the brain scattered, with simply the entire form corrupted, and the variety of the wounds not allowing the father to recognize the form of his beloved ones. You were confounded hearing these things, and you weep; consider, then, who he was who saw these things. For if, after so much time, we are not able to bear the hearing of that tragedy without tears, and that too while hearing of another's misfortunes, who was that adamantine man receiving these things by sight, not ^C among strangers, but philosophizing over his own evils? For he did not complain, nor did he say any such thing: "Why ever is this? Is this the recompense for my kindness? Why did I open my house to strangers, that I might see it become a tomb for my children? For this did I show every virtue regarding them, that they might endure such a death?" He said none of these things, nor did he think them; but he bore all things nobly, being stripped of them after such great care. For just as an excellent sculptor, fashioning golden statues, adorns them with great accuracy, so also he himself was fashioning and decorating their souls. And just as some industrious farmer watering, walling, and fencing the stalks of palms or olives, continues to tend them in every way; so also he did not cease, just like a fruit-bearing olive tree, increasing each one's soul into a greater advancement of virtue. But he saw the stalks uprooted by the assault of the evil spirit, and stretched out on the earth, and enduring the pitiable manner of the end, and he uttered nothing blasphemous, but also gave thanks, having dealt a vital blow to the devil.

^D 5. But if you were to say that this man had many sons, and someone else perhaps lost an only-begotten child, and the grief is not equal, you speak well, and I say to you that the grief is not equal, but Job's was far greater. For what profit was the multitude of children to him? For him, it made the calamity clearer and the pain more bitter to receive the wound in more bodies. But if you wish to see another saint who had an only-begotten child, and who showed the same or even greater fortitude, remember the patriarch Abraham, who did not see Isaac having died, but, which was far more bitter and painful, he himself was commanded to slaughter him, and he did not speak against the command, nor did he grow indignant, nor did he utter any such thing: "Did you make me a father for this reason, that you might force me to be a child-killer? It were better not to give the beginning, than having given it, to take him away in such a way. Do you wish to speak? For what reason do you order me to slaughter, and to stain my own right hand? Did you not promise me from this child to fill the inhabited world with descendants? How then do you give the fruits while destroying the root? And how do you promise descendants while ordering me to slaughter my son? Who has seen these things, who has heard these things? I am deceived, I am beguiled." He said nothing of the sort, nor did he think it, nor did he speak against the one who commanded, nor did he demand an accounting, but having heard, "Take your son, the beloved one, whom you loved, Isaac, and bring him up onto one of the mountains that I shall tell you," he fulfilled the command with such readiness that he even did more than what was commanded. For he even hid it from his wife, and escaped the notice of the children by leaving them below, and taking only the sacrificial offering, he went up; thus, not unwillingly, but with much readiness he did what was commanded. Consider, then, how great it was for him to speak alone with the child alone, with no one present, when more than ever the heart is warmed, and the affection becomes more vehement, and this not in one or two, but in more days. For to do the commanded thing quickly is something wonderful and great, but it is not as wonderful as this is. But he said, "The Lord gave, the Lord took away." If thus we manage our affairs as the blessed Job, not only in affliction, but also in other losses, both shall we depart pure toward our Master, and we shall be freed from the hell of fire, and with boldness we shall stand before the judgment seat of Christ; which may it be granted to us all to attain by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, etc.

enduring for many days the affliction and discipline of his soul without suffering any harm regarding the human child. For this very reason God imposed even greater trials, and extended the stadium, so that you might see the athlete more clearly. For he was indeed an athlete, not wrestling against a man, but against the very tyranny of nature itself. What speech will be able to set forth his courage? He led up the child, he bound his feet, he placed him upon the wood, he seized the knife, he was about to strike the blow. How am I to say, and in what manner, I have no words; he alone who performed these things knows; for no speech will ever be able to represent how his hand did not grow numb, how the tension of his sinews was not loosened, how the desired sight of his child did not confound him. It is worth while here to admire Isaac as well. For just as he was obedient to God, so too was he to his father; just as he, when God commanded his sacrifice, did not demand an explanation, so too did he, when his father was binding him and leading him up to the altar, not say, "Why do you do these things?" but submitted to the fatherly hand. And one might see the father and priest becoming one and the same, and a bloodless sacrifice being offered up, a burnt offering without fire, a type of death and resurrection occurring on that altar. For indeed he both sacrificed his son and did not sacrifice him; he did not sacrifice him with his hand, but with his willingness. Since even God commanded this for that reason, not desiring to see the shedding of blood, but wishing to show you his resolve, and to proclaim that noble man in the midst of the entire world, and to instruct all those who would come after, that it is necessary to prefer the commandments of God to children, to nature, and to all things that exist. He went down, therefore, having received back Isaac as a living witness. What excuse, then, shall we have, tell me, or what defense, if we have seen that noble man obeying God with such willingness, and yielding all things to Him, 771 and we are despondent? Do not mention to me your mourning, nor the unbearable nature of a misfortune, but consider this, that he was above even the cruelty of mourning. What was commanded was enough to disturb his reason, and to cast him into perplexity, and to undermine the faith in what had passed. For who of the many would not have thought that the things spoken concerning the multitude of his descendants, which He had promised him, were a deception? But not so Abraham. And we should also admire Job no less for his philosophy amidst misfortune, and for this especially, that after such great virtue, after so much almsgiving and love for mankind, after having nothing in his conscience against himself or his children, seeing such deep mourning, so novel and paradoxical—such as had happened to no one among those who had dared the most extreme things—he did not suffer as the many do, nor did he think that virtue was useless, nor did he regret the things that had passed. So that for both these reasons we ought not only to admire them, but also to emulate and imitate their virtue. And let no one say that they were some kind of admirable beings. They were indeed admirable and great; but we are now required to possess more philosophy than they, and than all those who lived in the Old Covenant. "For unless your righteousness shall abound more than that of the scribes and Pharisees," He says, "you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." Being instructed, therefore, from every side, and gathering these things, and what has been said to us regarding the resurrection and regarding these saints, let us continually chant them to our souls, not only at the time of mourning, but also when we are free from pain. For this reason I also, even though no one is currently in despondency, have now moved these subjects, so that when we might fall into some such misfortune, remembering what has been said, we may enjoy sufficient consolation; since soldiers, while there is peace, practice the arts of war, so that when the battle is at hand, and the time demands experience, they may demonstrate in a timely manner the skill which they cultivated during peace. And let us, therefore, prepare both weapons and medicines for ourselves in the time of peace, so that if ever a war of irrational passions, or of mourning, or of pain, or of any other such thing should arise, being well-armed and fenced round on every side, we may repel the attacks of the Evil One with much experience and sound reasoning, and the decrees of God, and the examples of good men, and in every way and on all sides we may fortify ourselves. For so shall we be able to pass through the present life with cheerfulness, and to attain the kingdom of heaven, in Christ Jesus, to whom is the glory and the power, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen.

[GREEK COLUMN] [LEFT COLUMN]

...shook the inhabited world, ^A you have been made teachers by the continuous enjoyment of these words.

On the Earthquake, and on the Rich Man and Lazarus, and whence slavery arose.

1. Have you seen the power of God? Have you seen the philanthropy of God? The power, that He shook the inhabited world; the philanthropy, that He set it up when it was falling; or rather, that in each there is both power and philanthropy. For it is of power to shake, and of philanthropy to set up; because He shook the earth and established the inhabited world, because He lifted it up when it was being shaken and ready to fall. But the earthquake has passed, yet let the fear remain; that surging has run its course, but let not the reverence run its course; we have offered prayers for three days, but let us not put an end to our zeal. For the earthquake happened because of this, because of our sloth; we were slothful, and we called for the earthquake; we were zealous, and we warded off the wrath; let us not be slothful again, so that we do not again call for wrath and ^B punishment. For God does not desire the death of the sinner, as that he should turn and live (Ezek. 33.11). Have you seen the frailty of the human race? When the earthquake happened, I was considering within myself, saying: "Where are the robberies? Where the greed? Where the tyrannies? Where the insolence? Where the powers? Where the oppressions? Where the plunderings of the poor? Where the pride of the wealthy? Where the authorities of the rulers? Where the threats? Where the fears?" In a single moment of time, and more cheaply than a spider's web, everything was being broken apart, everything was being dissolved, and there was a wailing of the city, and all were running to the church. Consider, if it had seemed good to God to bring everything down, what we would have suffered. I say these things so that the fear of those events may constantly thrive in you, and steady the mind of all. He shook, but He did not cast down; for if He had wished to cast down, He would not have shaken; but since He did not wish it, He went before as—

[RIGHT COLUMN]

—a herald, the earthquake, proclaiming to all the wrath of God, so that by fear, having become better, we might ward off the punishment through the events themselves. He acted thus also in the case of the barbarians. "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown" (Jon. 3.4). And why do you not overthrow? You threaten to tear down, and why do you not tear down? Because I do not desire to tear down, for this reason I threaten. What then do you say? So that I may not do what I say, let the word go before, and let it hinder the deed. "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown"; then the prophet said, today the walls send forth a sound. I say these things, and I will not cease saying them, both to the poor and to the rich; consider how great is the wrath of God, how to Him all things are easy and light; and let us stop at last from wickedness. In a brief moment of time, He thus paralyzed the mind and the heart of each, and shook the foundations of the heart.

Let us consider, if on that fearful day, when there is not one moment of time, but infinite ages, and rivers of fire, and wrath-bearing ^C powers, and forces dragging onto judgment, and a fearful tribunal, and an incorruptible court, and each one stands with his deeds before his eyes, and there is no one helping, neither neighbor, nor orator, nor relative, neither brother, nor father, nor mother, nor stranger, nor any other, what shall we do then? Tell me. I stir up fear so that I may construct salvation; I have made the teaching sharper than iron, so that each of you, having a festering sore, may put it away. Did I not always say, and now I say, and I will not cease saying: until when are you attached to present things? I speak to all, but especially to those who are sick, and not heeding what is said; or rather, the word is useful to each: to the sick one, that he may be healed; to the healthy one, that he may not become sick. Until when money? Until when wealth? Until when the splendor of buildings? Until when the madness concerning soulless love of pleasure? Behold, the earthquake came; what did the wealth avail? The labor of—

...the heart. ...the foundations of the earth. ...consider. ...that not small is the moment, but rivers of fire bubbling over. ...I stir up fear, ...I construct.

of both was loosed ^A; together with the owner the property perished, and the house with its builder. The city became a common tomb for all, a tomb fashioned, not by the hands of craftsmen, but fashioned by disaster. Where is the wealth? Where the acts of greed? Do you see that all things are more worthless than a spider's web?

β'. But you will say to me, "And what good do you do by speaking?" I do good, if anyone listens to me; I do my own duty; the sower sows. *A sower went out to sow*; ^B and some fell by the wayside, and some upon the rock, and some among thorns, and some upon the good earth; three parts perished, and one was saved. And yet he did not desist from the husbandry, but because one part was saved, he did not cease from the tillage. And now too, it is impossible that in so great a multitude, seed being cast, it should not bring me some ear of corn. Even if not all hear, half will hear; even if not half, a third part; even if not a third, the tenth part; even if not the tenth, even if one from the multitude hears, let him hear. For [b] it is no small thing for even one sheep to be saved; since that shepherd also, having left the ninety-nine sheep, ran toward the one that had strayed. I do not despise a human being; even if he be one, he is a man, the creature most eagerly sought after by God; even if he be a slave, he is not to be despised by me; for I do not seek status, but virtue; ^C not lordship, not servitude, but a soul; and even if he be one, he is a man, for whose sake the heaven was stretched out, and the sun shines, and the moon runs its course, and the air was poured out, and springs gush forth, and the sea was spread out, and prophets were sent, and the law was given; and what need is there to say everything? For whose sake the only-begotten Son of God became man. My Master was slain, and His blood was poured out for man, and I have the heart to despise him? And what excuse have I? Do you not hear that the Lord conversed with the Samaritan woman, and spent ten thousand words? And it was not because she was a Samaritan that she was despised, but because she possessed a soul, she was sought after; not because she was a harlot was she overlooked, but because she was about to be saved, and showed faith, she often enjoyed His care. I shall not cease speaking, even if there be no one who hears; I am a physician, I apply the medicines; I am a teacher, I have been commanded to exhort; for He says: *I have given thee as a watchman to the house of Israel.* Do I correct no one? And what of it? I have my reward. And I said this by way of hyperbole; for it is impossible that in so great a multitude no one should be corrected. But these very excuses and pretexts are those of lazy listeners. "I hear," he says, "every day, and I do not do it." Hear, even if you do not do it; for from hearing, the doing also comes to pass; and even if you do not do it, you are ashamed of the sin; even if you do not do it, you change your mind; even if you do not do it, you condemn yourself because you do not do it. But this accusation of yourself, whence does it come? The fruit of my words. When you say: "Woe is me," ^D I heard, and I do not perform; the "Woe is me" is the prologue to one's improvement for the better. Have you sinned? Have you mourned? You have loosed the sin. For you, first, tell your sins, that you may be justified. And even if you become gloomy, or dejected, the dejection has a certain salvation, not because of the nature of the dejection, but because of the philanthropy of the Master. To the one who has sins, it is no small consolation to grieve for oneself. For He says: "I saw that he was grieved and dejected, and I healed his pains." O ineffable philanthropy, and goodness unable to be interpreted! He was grieved, and I healed him. And what is great in that he was grieved? It is not great; but I took it as an occasion to heal his pains. Do you see how in a brief moment of time He has gathered everything together?

Continually, therefore, reflect within yourselves upon that evening of the earthquake. For all the others were afraid because of the earthquake, but I was afraid because of the cause of the earthquake. Have you understood what I said? The others were afraid that the city might fall, and they might die; but I fear that the Master is angry with us; for it is not grievous to die, but it is grievous to provoke the Master. So I was not afraid because of the earthquake, but because of the cause of the earthquake; for the cause of the earthquake is the anger of God, and the cause of the anger is our sins. Never fear punishment, but sin, the mother of punishment. Is the city shaken? And what of that? But let not your mind be shaken; since even in the case of diseases and wounds, we do not mourn for those who are being healed, but for those who are suffering from incurable ills. What disease and wound is, that is sin; what surgery and medicine is, that is punishment.

3.

- ^A ease—tell me, do you consider him blessed, or do you pity him? If you see another man possessed by dropsy, enjoying the hands of physicians, abandoning himself to hunger, being in great distress, persevering with bitter medicines—which indeed have pain, yet produce health through that pain—do you not consider this one blessed over the former? It is admitted; for the one is sick and is not being healed, but the other is sick and is enjoying medical treatment. But the treatment is painful. Yet its end is beneficial. It is the same in the present life. But withdraw your discussion from bodies to souls, from diseases to sins, from the bitterness of medicines to the punishments and the judgment of God. For whatever the medicine is that comes from the physician, and the knife and the fire, such is the punishment from God. For just as fire, when applied, often burns and prevents the spreading of the gangrene, and as the iron removes the corruption—having pain, but providing benefit—so also famines and plagues and all evils that seem to be such, are applied to the soul in place of iron and fire, in order that they may check the spreading of diseases according to the image of the body, and make it better. Again, let there be two fornicators, and let the image be subject to the argument: two fornicators; but the one is rich, the other poor. Who has greater hopes of salvation? It is admitted, clearly, the poor man. Do not, therefore, say that the rich man fornicates and is wealthy, and therefore I consider him blessed. You ought rather to have considered him blessed if, while fornicating, he were impoverished; if, while fornicating, he were starving; for he would have had poverty as a compelled teacher of philosophy. When you see a wicked man prospering, weep; for there are two evils: both the disease and the incurability. When you see a wicked man in distress, find comfort, not only for this reason, that he is becoming better, but because many of his sins are being dissolved here. Pay attention with precision to the discourse. Many of the people are dissolved ^B both here and are judged there; but some only here, and some only there. Hold fast my teaching; for this argument, when cleared up, will cast out many troubles from your reasoning.

But, if it seems good, let us bring into the middle first the man who is punished there but enjoyed luxury here. Let both rich and poor attend to what is being said, for the instruction is useful to both. For that many are judged both here and there, hear Christ saying: "Into whatever city or house you enter, entering into the house, greet it, saying, 'Peace to this house.' And if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it be not worthy, let your peace return unto you. And whoever will not receive you, nor hear your words, going out of the city, shake off the dust of your feet. Amen I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city. Into whatever city or house you enter, inquire who in it is worthy, and stay there until you depart." From these [words] it is clear that those of Sodom and Gomorrah were judged here, and are also punished there. For when He says that it shall be more tolerable for Sodom than for these, He shows that they are punished indeed, but not as these are.

^C 4. Again, there are those who are punished here only, just as he who had fornicated. For the blessed Paul, writing to the Corinthians, said thus: "It is absolutely heard that there is fornication among you, and such fornication as is not even named among the Gentiles, so that one has his father's wife. And you are puffed up, and have not rather mourned, that he who has done this deed might be taken away from among you. For I indeed, as absent in body, but present in spirit, have already judged, as though present, him who has so wrought this thing, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we are gathered together, and my spirit, to deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." Do you see how this man is punished here, and is not punished there? For because his body was punished here, he is not punished there. But I wish to show him who lived in luxury here, but is punished there. "There was a certain rich man." But if you anticipate the history of the narrative, wait for the resolution of the discourse; for this is my praise, and your honor, that while the preludes are being laid down, you are already reaping the grain. The continuous enjoyment of the discourses has made you teachers; but since there are also some strangers entering among you, do not run [too fast], but wait for those who are limping. For the Church is a body; it has an eye, and it has a head. Just as, therefore, if the heel receives a thorn, the eye bends down, ^D being a member of the body, and does not say, "Because I sit on high, I despise the lower member," but it bends down and leaves its own height—and yet what is more common than the heel, or what more noble than the eye? But sympathy has corrected the inequality, and love has mingled the whole; so also do you: even if you are swift, and even if you are prepared for listening, yet if you do not have the brother following along with those who are being cast down, let your eye bend down to the heel, let it sympathize with the limping limb, so that not because of your swiftness and his slowness, he remains deprived of the [778] discourse. Do not be sufficient in your own understanding for his destruction, but give thanks to God for your own swiftness. Are you rich? I rejoice and am glad; but he is still poor; do not let him remain in poverty because of your wealth. He has a thorn, a troubled mind; but descend to him, and pull out the thorn. What then does he say? "There was a certain rich man," in name, not in reality. "There was a certain rich man, wearing purple, setting before himself a luxurious table, having cups wreathed with wine, making feasts every day; and there was another, a poor man named Lazarus."

And where is the name of the rich man? Nowhere; for he is nameless. So much wealth, and yet his name is not found! What kind of wealth is this? A tree flourishing in leaves, but deprived of fruit, an oak stretched out to height, providing the acorn as food for irrational creatures, a man not having the fruit of a man. For where there is wealth and rapacity, the one seen is a wolf; where there is wealth and beastliness, I see a lion, and…

wherever there is wealth and lack of sense, I see an irrational creature; he has destroyed his nobility with the ignobility of wickedness. There was some rich man, clothing himself in purple every day, but full of spiders’ webs in his soul; breathing perfume, yet filled with stench; setting a luxurious table, feeding parasites and flatterers; fattening the slave, which is the flesh, while neglecting the mistress, the soul, which was perishing from hunger; his house was garlanded, yet the foundation of sin was whitewashed; he possessed a soul buried in wine. That rich man, therefore, was keeping a luxurious table, wine-cups wreathed with ivy, feeding parasites and flatterers—the wicked theater of the devil, the wolves that carry off many of those who are wealthy, those who purchase their own destruction by the gluttony of their bellies, those who despoil wealth with much honor and flattery.

No one would err in calling such wolves by name, for just as they take the rich man in their midst, like sheep, they lift him up with praises and puff him up with encomiums, and do not let him see even the wound, but they blind his intellect and increase his corruption. Then, when a time of change arrives ^A, the friends are in flight, and we who censure are in sympathy; their masks are hidden—a thing which has indeed happened many times now.

5. On the Rich Man and Lazarus

5. That rich man, then, was feeding parasites and flatterers, making his house a theater, loosening each person with wine, spending his time in much luxury. Yet another was Lazarus, full of sores, sitting at the gateway of the rich man and desiring crumbs. Beside the fountain he was thirsty; in luxury he was famishing. And where was he cast? Not in an alleyway, not in a lane, not in a crossroads, not in the middle of the marketplace, but at the gateway of the rich man, where the rich man had need to enter and exit ^B, so he might not say, "I did not see, I passed by, my eyes did not see." He lies in your gateway, the pearl in the mire, and do you not see? The physician is at the gateway 779, and do you not treat him? The pilot is in the harbor, and do you endure shipwreck? You feed parasites, and do you not feed the poor? These things happened then, and they happen now as well. For this reason those things were written, so that those who come after might be instructed by these events and might not suffer those things which this one suffered. The poor man, therefore, was lying in the gateway; poor on the outside, but rich on the inside. He lay with his body covered in sores; a treasure having thorns on the outside, but pearls within. For what harm was there to him from the infirmity of the body, while the soul was healthy? Let the poor listen, and let them not be choked ^C by dejection; let the rich listen, and let them change from their wickedness. For this reason these two images are set before us, of wealth and poverty, of cruelty and endurance, of patience and greed, so that when you see a poor man covered in sores and despised, you may not count him miserable; when you see a rich man adorned, you may not count him blessed.

Run back to the parable; if the shipwreck of thoughts disturbs you, run to the harbor, take consolation from the narrative, consider Lazarus ^D despised, consider the rich man living in prosperity and enjoying luxury, and let nothing of what happens in this life disturb you. For if you have a disciplined intellect, the waves do not sink you; the ship does not become submerged, if by the discernment of thoughts you divide the nature of things. What do you say to me, "My body is constrained"? May your intellect not be harmed. Such-and-such is a rich and wicked man; and what of that? Wickedness is not something perceptible. Do not judge the man to me by external things, but by internal ones. If you see a tree, do you examine the leaves or the fruit? So also in the case of a man, if you see a man, do not discern the external, but the internal; observe the fruit, and not the leaves. Perhaps it is a wild olive tree, but it is thought to be an olive tree; perhaps it is a wolf, but it is thought to be a man. Do not, therefore, discern by nature, but by choice; not by sight, but by intent; and not by intent alone, but also investigate his life. If he has love for the poor, he is a man; but if he is occupied in commerce, he is an oak; if he is beastly in anger, he is a lion; if he is rapacious, he is a wolf; if he is deceitful, he is an asp. And say, "I am looking for a man; why have you shown me a beast instead of a man?" Learn what is the virtue of a man, and do not be troubled. Lazarus was then lying in the gateway, covered in sores, wasting away from hunger; but the dogs came and licked his wounds; the dogs were more humane than the man, they licked his wounds, and were removing the decay and cleansing it. But he lay there as if gold being set in a furnace, and becoming more refined; he did not say, as many of the poor do, "Are these things of providence? Does God watch over human affairs? I am in righteousness, and I am poor, and this one is in injustice

...

For just as in this theater at high noon curtains are drawn, and many of the actors enter, pretending, having masks on their faces, and recounting an ancient myth, and narrating events, and one becomes a philosopher, not being a philosopher, and another becomes a king, not being a king, but having the form through the performance; while the physician, not even able to handle a wooden tool,

appears to be a physician, yet is not, and he who is a slave appears to be free, and the teacher appears to be one who does not even know his letters; they appear to be nothing of what they are, and what they truly are, they do not appear. For one appears to be a physician who is not a physician, and one appears to be a philosopher who wears his hair long beneath his mask, and one appears to be a soldier who is clad in the soldier’s apparel; and the appearance of the mask deceives us, but it does not lie concerning the nature whose truth it alters. And so long as the spectators remain seated, the masks remain; but when evening falls, and the theater is dissolved, and all depart, the masks are cast aside, and the king within is found to be a common bronze-worker on the outside. The masks are cast off, the deception departs, the truth is revealed; and the one who is free inside is found to be, on the outside, a slave—for as I said, within is the deception, but without is the truth. And evening fell, the theater was dissolved, the truth appeared. So it is also in this life and at the end; present things are a theater, worldly affairs are a pretense, wealth and poverty, the ruler and the ruled, and all such things. But when that day is cast off, and that fearful night comes—or rather, the day, a night for sinners, but a day for the righteous—when the theater is dissolved, when the masks are cast aside, when each one is tested together with his works, not each one with his wealth, not each one with his authority, not each one with his honors, not each one with his power, but each one with his works—the ruler, the king, the woman, the man—when God demands of us our life and good deeds, [781] and not the weight of our dignities, nor the lowliness of poverty, nor the tyranny of contempt! Give me works, even if you are a slave: you are better than a freeman; even if you are a woman: you are more courageous than a man. For when the masks are cast aside, then the rich man and the poor man are revealed; and just as here, when the theater is dissolved, if one of us, sitting above, sees the philosopher within the man who is a bronze-worker on the outside, he says, "Alas, was this man not a philosopher within? On the outside I see a bronze-worker; was this man not a king within? On the outside I see a common wretch; was this man not rich within? On the outside I see a beggar." Thus it happens there, too.

6. For this reason, I do not draw out my discourse to a great length, so as not to confuse the listener with a multitude of things said; instead, I wish to represent the hypocrisy of the theater using but two masks. I have used two masks in order to cut a path for you from these two, and to provide an opportunity. I have broadened your understanding by the exposition of the present life, so that each one may perceive the difference in things. There are, then, two masks: one had the mask of the rich man, and the other of the poor man; Lazarus had the mask of the poor man, and the rich man the mask of the rich man; the masks are what appear, not the truth of things. Both departed thither, both the rich man and the poor man; the angels took Lazarus after the dogs, ^B after the gateway of the rich man, to the bosom of Abraham, after the famine to an abundance that has no end, after the affliction to an indissoluble rest; but the rich man, after his wealth, he found poverty, after the rich table, punishment and torment, after the rest, unceasing pains. And see what happens: They departed thither, and the theater was dissolved; the masks were unveiled, and now the true faces appear. Both departed thither, and the rich man sees Lazarus being comforted, enjoying himself, and luxuriating in the bosom of Abraham; and he says to him, "Father Abraham, send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am scorched." What, then, says Abraham? "Child, you received your good things, and Lazarus his bad things; and now he is comforted, and you are in anguish. And besides, there is a great chasm fixed between us and you, so that if anyone wishes to pass from here to you, he cannot." Take heed; for the account concerning these things is useful, terrifying yet purifying, causing pain yet correcting. Accept what is said. Of these torments the rich man caught sight, and saw Lazarus; he saw new things. He was at your gate every day; you entered and exited a second and a third time, and you did not see him; and now that you are in the flames, do you see him from afar? When you lived in wealth, when your will was to see him, you did not propose to look at him; why now is your sight so sharp? Was he not at your gate? How could you not see him? You did not see him when he was nearby, and now you see him from a distance, and with such a chasm between? And what does he do? He calls Abraham "father." Why do you call him "father," you who did not imitate his hospitality? This man calls him father, and he calls him child; these are the names of kinship, but the reception is nowhere to be found. But he utters the names, so that you may learn that there is no profit in lineage [783].

For nobility is not the distinction of ancestors, but the virtue of one’s conduct. Do not say to me, "I have a consul for a father." What is that to me? I do not say this. Do not say to me, "I have a consul for a father." If you have Paul the Apostle as your father, or if you have martyrs for brothers, yet you yourself do not imitate their virtue, it is of no profit to you, this relationship; rather, it has harmed and condemned you. "My mother," he says, "is merciful." And what is that to you, who are inhuman? For her philanthropy is added to the accusation against your wickedness. For what did John the Baptist say to the Jewish multitude? "Bring forth fruit worthy of repentance, and do not presume to say, 'We have Abraham as our father.'" Do you have a noble ancestor? If you emulate him, you have gained; but if you do not emulate him, he who is noble becomes your accuser, as a bitter fruit that has grown from a righteous root. Never call a man blessed who has righteous kin, unless he mimics his ways. Do you have a holy mother? It is nothing to you. Do you have a wicked mother? It is nothing

to you, if you change your malice. And just as there the crime is greater because, having a pattern at home, one did not imitate the virtue, so here the commendation is greater, because someone having a wicked mother did not imitate her wickedness, but fruit sprouted from a bitter root; for it is not the splendor of ancestors that is sought, but a manner of virtue.

I call a slave noble, and a master bound in chains, if I learn his manner of life. To me, even one in high office is ignoble if he has a slavish soul. For who is a slave, if not he who commits sin? For that other slavery is a matter of circumstances; but this slavery is a difference of purpose, since slavery from the beginning entered in from this.

[ζ] 7. There was no slave in ancient times; for God, in molding man, did not make him a slave, but free. He made Adam and Eve, and both were free; whence, then, did slavery come? The race of men went astray, and having overstepped the measures of desire, they were lifted up into licentiousness; and how, listen:

There came a flood, the common shipwreck of the inhabited world; the cataracts were opened, and the abysses gushed forth, and all was water, and the things that were visible were unraveled and dissolved, and the earth did not appear, but all was a sea, having the wrath of God as its root, and all were waves, and all were seas; mountains were stretched to a height, but the sea covered them; and there was sea and sky only, and the race of mankind was perishing, and the spark of our race was Noah—a spark in the midst of the sea, and not quenched, having the first-fruits of our race: a wife and children, a dove and a raven, and all other things. And all were inside, and the ark was carried upon the water in the midst of the surge, and yet it did not shipwreck; for it had as pilot the Master of all. For it was not the planks that saved it, but the mighty hand; and look at the miracle: when the earth was washed away, when those who did evil were destroyed, when the storm abated, the peaks of the mountains appeared, the ark rested, Noah sent out the dove.

It takes a wolf, and sends him out a sheep. For whenever a man enters here, marauding and greedy, and hears the divine oracles of the teaching, he changes his mind, and instead of a wolf, he becomes a sheep; for the wolf steals what belongs to others, but the sheep gives away even its own wool. The ark rested, and the doors were opened. Noah went forth from the shipwreck, saved; he sees the earth desolate, he sees a grave improvised by the mud, a grave common to beasts and men, all the bodies of horses and men and irrational cattle all buried together. He saw that tragedy, he saw the earth filled with bitterness; he was in great dejection; all had perished; not a man, not a beast, not any other thing outside the ark was saved; he looked at the sky alone; he was tyrannized by dejection, he was held by pain, he drank wine, he gave himself to sleep, so that he might soothe the ulcer of dejection. He lay upon the bed, just as if he had given himself over to sleep for a physician, producing forgetfulness in his mind of the things that had happened, as is likely for one who has grown old, and has drunk wine, and is held by sleep. For one must defend the righteous man, that what was done was not out of a desire for drunkenness or passion, but through both he was healing the ulcer. For Solomon also said: "Give wine to those in grief, and drunkenness to those in pain."

Therefore many people, and especially at funerals, when someone loses a child or a wife, since the emotion tyrannizes, since dejection prevails, since conscience is master, he takes friends into his own house, and makes a lavish symposium, and unmixed wine is given to the one who is suffering, so that he might soothe the ulcer. The old man suffered this then too. For being tyrannized by dejection, he used wine as a medicine, and from the wine he gave himself to sleep. But so that you may learn whence slavery was given, after a little, that accursed son of his entered—a son of his by nature, but not a son by resolve (again I say nobility, not the splendor of ancestors, but a manner of virtue)—the son entered and saw the nakedness of his father. It was necessary to wrap him, it was necessary to cover him, because of his old age, because of the mourning, because of the calamity, because of him being his own father; but he, having gone forth, paraded it and made a tragedy of it.

The other brothers of his, having taken a cloak, walking backward, so that they might not see what was being paraded by that one, entered and covered their father. The father having arisen, knew everything, and begins to say: "Cursed be Canaan the boy; a servant he shall be to his brothers." And what he says is this: "You shall be a slave, because you paraded the indecency of your father." Do you see that slavery is from sin, and that wickedness brought in slavery? Do you want me to show you freedom from slavery? There was some Onesimus, a servant, an abhorred fugitive; he fled, and went to Paul; he attained baptism, washed away his sins, remained at his feet; Paul writes to his master: "Onesimus, who was once useless to you, now, however, is useful both to you and to me, whom you—"

take as my own." For what happened? "Whom I have begotten in my bonds."

7. On nobility and the nature of things.

[η'] You have seen nobility, you have seen a manner of life that provides freedom? For "slave" and "free" are merely names. What is a slave? A bare name. How many masters lie on couches getting drunk, while their servants stand by sober! Whom shall I call a slave? The one who is sober, or the one who is drunk? The one who is a slave to a man, or the one who is a captive to a passion? The former has his slavery from without, the latter carries his captivity within. I say these things, and I will not cease saying them, so that you may have a mind that discerns the nature of things, and not be carried away by the deceit of the many, but know accurately what is a slave, what is a poor man, what is ignoble, what is blessed, what is a passion. For if you learn to discern these things, you will suffer no turmoil. But lest the digression of the discourse become too great and lead the argument astray, let us stick to our subject. This rich man, then—who is in fact poor (or rather, he was a poor man even when he was rich). For what is the benefit to a man who possesses things that belong to another, while not possessing what is truly his own?

What is the benefit to a man who possesses wealth, but does not possess virtue? Why take the things of others, and lose your own? "I have," he says, "a fertile estate." And what of it? Your soul is not fertile. "I have servants." But you do not have virtue. "I have garments." But you do not possess godliness. You have the things of another, but you do not have your own. If someone gives you a deposit, can I call you a rich man? No. Why? Because you possess what belongs to another. For that is what a deposit is; would that it were only a deposit, and not an increase of punishment for you! Seeing Lazarus, then, the rich man says: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me." The words of a beggar, of a mendicant, of a pauper. "Father Abraham, have mercy on me." What do you want? 785 "Send Lazarus." He whom you passed by a myriad of times, he whom you did not even want to look upon—him you now ask to be sent to you for your salvation? "Send Lazarus." And where now are your cupbearers? Where are the rugs? Where are the parasites? Where are the flatterers? Where is the arrogance? Where is the insolence? Where is the gold that was buried? Where are the moth-eaten garments? Where is the silver that was prized by you? Where is the outward show and the enjoyment? They were leaves; winter came and all things withered. They were a dream; as soon as the day came, the dream departed. They were a shadow; the truth came, and the shadow passed away. "Send Lazarus."

And why does he see no other righteous man? Not Noah, not Jacob, not Lot, not Isaac, but Abraham? Why? Because Abraham was hospitable, and he would draw those who were traveling into his tent. Consequently, that man's hospitality becomes a greater accuser of this man's lack of humanity. "Send Lazarus." Let us, beloved, be fearful as we hear this, lest we too see poor men and pass them by, lest instead of Lazarus, many become our accusers then. "Send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am being scorched." For with what measure you mete, it shall be measured back to you. You did not share crumbs; you do not share a drop. "Send Lazarus, that with the tip of his finger he may cool my tongue, for I am being scorched." And what does Abraham say to him? "Child, you received your good things in your life, and Lazarus likewise his evil things; and now he is comforted, and you are in anguish." Again, he did not say here, "You took," but "You received back" (ἀπέλαβες). The addition of the preposition makes a great difference. For as I have often said to your love, we ought to be researchers even concerning syllables; for, Scripture says, "Search the Scriptures," for an iota or one serif often raises a point of meaning. And that you may learn that even the addition of a single letter makes a meaning, this patriarch was called Abram formerly. And God says to him: "Your name shall not be Abram, but Abraham." He added an alpha, and made him the father of many nations. See, then, the addition of one letter showed great nobility. Do not, therefore, pass over such things lightly. For he did not say, "You took (ἔλαβες) your good things," but "You received back (ἀπέλαβες)." And he who receives back, receives what is owed. Pay attention to what I say: it is one thing to "take," and another to "receive back." For one receives back what one already had, but one takes what one often did not possess. "You received back your good things, and Lazarus his evil things." See, the rich man also received back his good things, and Lazarus his evil things. All these things have been said by me for the sake of those who are being punished here and not there, for the sake of those who live in luxury here and are punished there. Pay attention, therefore, to what I say: "You received back your good things, and Lazarus his evil things," those which were owed, those which were due. Pay attention to the question; for I am reaching the point; let me weave the fabric. But do not be troubled at the introduction; but when I say such things, wait for the solution. For I wish to make you sharp-sighted [786] and not to exercise your minds merely on the surface, but to carry you down into the deep of the divine Scriptures—a deep that does not have storms, a deep more secure than any calm. So, the further down you go, the more security you find. For there is not here a disordered rush of waters, but a well-ordered disposition of thoughts. "You received back your good things, and Lazarus his evil things; and now he is comforted, and you are in anguish." It is a great question; I said that he who receives back, receives what is owed. If, then, Lazarus was righteous—as indeed he was, and the bosom of Abraham, the crown, the rewards, the relief, the enjoyment, the endurance, and the patience showed—while this man was a sinner and thoroughly wicked and inhuman, intent on luxury and drunkenness, setting a Sybaritic table before himself, wallowing in such great licentiousness and debauchery, why does he say to him, "You received back"? For was anything owed to him, a man living in wealth, a man living dissolutely and inhumanely? For what was owed to him? Why did he not say, "You took," but "You received back"?

9. Pay attention to what is being said. Penalties were owed to him, punishments were owed to him, torments were owed to him. Why did he not say, "You took those things," but "You received back your good things," meaning that life, and Lazarus his evil things? But strain your mind; for I am descending into a depth of thoughts. Of all human beings who exist, some are sinners, others righteous. Pay attention, therefore, even to the difference among the righteous: one is righteous, another is more righteous; one is higher, another is greater; and just as

there are many stars, and the sun, and the moon, so too ^A there is a difference among the righteous. For one star differs from another star in glory, and at the same time some are inferior; and just as there are heavenly bodies, so too are there earthly bodies; and just as among bodies there is the deer, the dog, the lion, or some other beast, or the viper, or something else of that sort, so too there are differences in sins. Regarding men, therefore, some are righteous and some are sinners, yet even among the righteous there is much difference, and among sinners there is a great and boundless difference. But pay attention: even if someone is righteous, even if he were righteous a thousand times over and had ascended to the very peak so as to be rid of sins, he cannot be free of a stain, even if he were righteous a thousand times over; he is, after all, a man. For who will boast that he has a pure heart? Or who will act with confidence that he is clean from sin?

Therefore we are commanded to say in the prayer: "Forgive us our debts," so that by the habit of prayer we might be reminded there that we are liable to punishments. For indeed, Paul the Apostle, the vessel of election, the temple of God, the mouth of Christ, the lyre of the Spirit, the teacher of the inhabited world—who traveled over land and sea, who pulled up the thorns of sins, who sowed the seeds of piety, who is richer than kings, mightier than the wealthy, stronger than soldiers, more philosophical than philosophers, more fluent than rhetoricians, who possesses nothing and yet possesses all things, who in his shadow dissolves death, who in his garments drives away diseases, who set up trophies in the sea, who was caught up to the third heaven and entered into Paradise, who proclaimed Christ to be God—even he says: "I know nothing 787 against myself, yet I am not thereby justified." He who has possessed such a multitude of virtues says this. "But he who examines me is the Lord."

Who, then, will boast that he has a pure heart? Or who will act with confidence that he is clean from sin? It is impossible, therefore, for any man to be sinless. For what do you say? Is he righteous? Is he merciful? Is he a lover of the poor? But he has some defect: either he insults unseasonably, or he seeks glory, or he does something else of that sort; for there is no need to list everything. One is merciful, but often not sober-minded; another is sober-minded, but not merciful; one is named for one virtue, another for another. Suppose someone is righteous: he is often righteous and has all the goods, but he has become arrogant on account of his righteousness, and the arrogance has spoiled the righteousness for him. Was the Pharisee not righteous, fasting twice a week? And what does he say? "I am not like the rest of men, rapacious and covetous." And often from a clean conscience one comes to arrogance; and indeed that which sin did not harm him, arrogance harmed him. Therefore, it is not possible for a man to be so completely righteous as to be clean from sin, and again, it is not possible for any man to be so evil as not to have even a little bit of good. What do I mean? Such-and-such a person is rapacious and covetous and harms others, but at times he gives alms, at times he is sober-minded, at times he has a kind word, at times he has helped even one man, at times he has wept, at times he has been saddened. Therefore, neither is a righteous man without sin, nor is a sinner entirely devoid of good. What is more grievous than Ahab? He plundered and killed, ^B yet because he was saddened, God says to Elijah: "Have you seen how Ahab was pricked in heart? Have you seen how, in such an abyss of evils, some little good was found?" What is worse than Judas the traitor, who was taken captive by the love of money? Yet even he, after these things, did some little good. For he says: "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood." This, therefore, is what I was saying: wickedness is not by nature, so that virtue would have no place. A sheep cannot ever become wild, for it has mildness by nature; a wolf cannot ever become mild, for it has wildness by nature. The laws of nature are not broken, nor are they shaken, but they remain immovable. With me, this is not the case: I become wild whenever I wish, and mild whenever I will; for I am not bound by nature, but have been honored with the freedom of choice. Just as I said, therefore, neither is anyone so good that he does not have a small blemish, nor is anyone so wicked that he does not have even a little good.

Since, therefore, there is a recompense for everything, and for everything there is a reward, even if someone is a murderer, if someone is wicked, if someone is covetous, but he does some good, the reward for the good remains for him, and the good does not go unrewarded because of the evils he has done. And again, even if someone works a myriad of good deeds, but he does something base, the recompense for the base act remains for him. Keep these things; 788 hold them secure and immovable. Neither is anyone good without sin, nor is anyone wicked without righteousness. For I say the same things again, so that I may plant them, so that I may sow them, so that I may deposit them in the depths. For the devil casts certain cares into the soul, wishing to lead your understanding astray and to spoil the things said by me; for this reason, I carry them down into the depths. For if you keep them safely here, even if you go outside, you cannot lose them. For just as if I put gold into a purse, I tighten and seal it so that even in my absence a thief may not take it, so too regarding your love, by the continuity of the teaching I tighten and set seals upon it, and I secure your resolve so that it may not become faded by sloth, but that by keeping it, I may rather, by the tranquility here, beat back the turmoil outside. Therefore, these things are not said out of wordiness, but out of the care, affection, and longing of a teacher, so that what is said may not drip away. For to say these things is not burdensome for me, and for you it is safe; I wish to teach, not simply to make a display. Therefore, there is not anyone righteous who does not have sin, and there is not anyone a sinner who does not have good. But since for each there is a recompense, see what happens: the sinner receives the balanced reward for his good deeds, if he has any good deeds at all, however small; and the righteous man receives the balanced judgment for his sin, even if he does something small that is wicked. What happens therefore, ^C even if someone murders, or if he commits fornication, or if he is covetous.

And what does God do? He assigned disease ^A to sin, to the present life and the age to come. If, therefore, someone is righteous and commits some evil, and falls ill here, and is delivered to punishment, do not be troubled, but consider within yourself, and say, that this righteous person once committed some minor wrong, and is receiving recompense here, so that he may not be punished there.

Again, if you see a sinner seizing, overreaching, doing ten thousand evils, and even if he is in prosperity, consider that he once did some good, and is receiving the good things here, so that he may not demand his reward there. So even if someone is righteous and suffers something terrible, he is receiving recompense here for this reason: so that he may lay aside his sin here and depart thither pure. And if someone is a sinner, full of evils, and suffering ten thousand incurable diseases, seizing, overreaching, for this reason he enjoys prosperity here, so that he may not demand a reward there. Since, therefore, it happened that Lazarus also had some sins, and the rich man had something good, for this reason Abraham says: "Seek nothing here; you received your good things there, and Lazarus his evil things." And so that you may know that I do not say these things without reason, but that it is so ^B, he says: "You received your good things." Which ones? You did some good? You received your wealth, your health, your luxury, your power, your honor; nothing is owed to you; you have received your good things. What then? Did Lazarus sin nothing? Yes, Lazarus also [had] his evil things. When you were receiving the good things, then Lazarus was also [receiving] the evil things; for this reason now he is comforted ^C, but you are in pain. So when you see a righteous person being punished here, bless him, and say: "This righteous person either has sin and is receiving recompense for it, and is departing thither pure, or he is being punished beyond his sins, and an addition of righteousness is reckoned to him." For there is an account [that happens] there; and God says to the righteous person: "You have so much of mine; perhaps he entrusts ten obols to him and makes an account for him of the ten obols." But if he spends sixty obols, God says to him: "I reckon the ten obols to you for sin, and the fifty for righteousness." And so that you may know that the remainder is reckoned to him for righteousness: Job was righteous, blameless, truthful, god-fearing, abstaining from every evil deed; his body was punished here, so that he might demand rewards there. For what does God say to him? "Do you think that I have dealt otherwise with you, than that you should be revealed as righteous?" Having, therefore, demonstrated the same patience as the righteous, and having demonstrated fortitude in balance with their good conduct, let us receive the good things prepared for the saints who love God; which may we all attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power unto the ages of ages. Amen.

[790] To those who have gone away to the horse races, and on the saying of the Gospel: "Enter through the narrow gate, because broad is the gate and wide is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it"; and at the end on the Rich Man and Lazarus.

1. I wish to take up the usual teaching again, and to set before you the spiritual table; yet I both hesitate and shrink, seeing that you draw no fruit from the continuous teaching; since even a farmer,

^A when with a generous hand he places the seeds into the bosom of the earth, if he does not see the growth resulting in a manner worthy of his labors, does not approach the tilling with the same eagerness; for hope regarding the harvest always cuts away the heaviness of the labors. In the same way, we too might have borne this great, heavy labor of teaching lightly, if we had learned that something more was coming from our exhortation for your benefit. But now, when we see that after so many of our exhortations, after so many admonitions and rebukes (for we have not ceased to remind you constantly of the terrible judgment, and of the inescapable accounts, and of that inextinguishable fire, and of the worm that does not end), some of those hearing these things (for I do not pass judgment upon all—God forbid!), forgetting all these things, have again given themselves over to the satanic spectacle of the hippodrome—with what expectation, then, shall we undertake the same labors, and set before them this spiritual teaching, seeing that they reap no more benefit from it, but simply follow along out of a certain habit, and applaud the things said by us, and show us how they receive our words with pleasure, and after this again run to the hippodrome, and show greater shouting/cries for the charioteers, and unbridled madness, and with much intensity run together, and often wrangle with one another, and say that one of the horses did not run well, and the other was tripped and fell, and one assigns himself to this charioteer, and another to that? There is nowhere any thought or reminder of our words, nor of the spiritual and terrible mysteries celebrated here, but like men who have become captives to the snares of the devil, they spend their days there, having abandoned themselves to the satanic spectacle, and lie exposed to shame both to Jews and Greeks and to those wishing to revile our matters.

Who then, even if he were as stony or as devoid of feeling as possible, would be able to bear these things without emotion, much less we, who strive to show fatherly affection towards you all? For it is not only this that grieves us, that you demonstrate our toil to be useless; but it bites us much more severely when we consider that those who do these things work a heavier condemnation for themselves. For we look for the reward of our labors from the Master; for we have done all that is ours, and we have paid out the money, and we have distributed the talent entrusted to us, and we have left out nothing of what fell to us. But they, having received these spiritual monies—what apology, tell me, will they have, and what forgiveness, when not only are the things themselves required, but also the increase from them? With what eyes will they look upon the Judge? How will they bear that terrible day, the unbearable punishments? For can they take refuge in ignorance? Every day we resonate in their ears, we admonish, we exhort, we demonstrate the destruction of the deception, the magnitude of the harm, the treachery of the satanic festival, and even so we have not been able to reach them. And why do I speak of that terrible day? For now, let us exercise these things here. ^B How, tell me, will those who have participated in that satanic spectacle be able to appear here with boldness, possessing a conscience that rises up against them and cries out loudly? Or do these not hear the blessed Paul saying, the teacher of the world, "What communion has light with darkness, or what part has a believer with an unbeliever?" For of how much condemnation would one be worthy, when the believer, who enjoys both the things celebrated here—the prayers and the terrible mysteries and the spiritual teaching—goes away after the service here and sits at that satanic spectacle with the unbeliever, with the one wandering in the darkness of impiety, though he has been illuminated by the light of the Sun of Righteousness? How, tell me, shall we then be able to silence either Greeks or Jews? Or how shall we be able to lead them in and persuade them to change over to piety, when they see those who are aligned with us mixed in with them in those destructive theaters that are full of every kind of corruption? For for what reason, tell me, after having come here, and purified your reasoning, and brought your mind to sobriety and compunction, do you go away again and defile yourself there? Or do you not hear a certain wise man saying: "One building and one tearing down—what have they gained more than toil?" Which is what is happening even now. For when the things here built up by us through continuous teaching and this spiritual exhortation are, after you have gone away, suddenly all torn down, and brought, so to speak, to the ground, what profit is there in us showing you the work of building upwards again, and you again the work of tearing down? Of what folly and madness would this not be? For tell me, if you were to see someone doing this in these material buildings made through stones, would you not pay attention to him as a madman and one toiling in vain and for nothing, and spending all his own things on nothing necessary? In the same way, then, let your reasoning be regarding this spiritual building, and bring the same judgment. For see: we, indeed, since we were appointed to this by the grace of God, every day raise this spiritual building to [792] a height, and strive to lead you into the teaching of virtue; but some of those running together here tear down to the ground, with their own hands—so to speak—through this unspeakable negligence in a single moment of time, the building that was increased with much labor, creating for us much despondency from this, and for themselves the greatest destruction and unbearable loss.

^C 2. Perhaps we have made the rebuke more severe—severe as regards our own affection, but not equal to the magnitude of the transgression. But nevertheless, since it is necessary both to reach out a hand to those who have fallen, and to show fatherly goodwill towards those who have been so very negligent, we do not even so abandon hope for their salvation; provided only that they wish no longer to fall into the same things again, but to stop their negligence at this point, and deny themselves the ascent to the hippodrome, and all such satanic spectacle. For we have a Master who is loving and kind.

and since He knows the weakness of our nature, when we fall into some sin, tripped up by negligence, He asks one thing only from us: not to despair, but to turn away from the transgression and hasten to confession. If we do this, He promises us swift forgiveness; for He Himself is the one who says: "Does he who falls not rise again, or does he who turns away not turn back?" Knowing this, then, let us not despise so loving a Master, but let us overcome our harmful habit; and let us not walk the wide gate and the broad way. As you heard today, the Master of all exhorted us in the Gospel, saying: "Enter by the narrow gate, for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and many are those who enter through it."

Hearing of the wide gate and the broad way, do not be deceived by the beginnings, nor, because many enter through it, should you look at that, but consider that it ends in a narrow conclusion. And think this over wisely: that the passage is not about a physical gate, nor simply about a road, but it is an admonition regarding our entire life, and regarding virtue and vice. For this reason, He began by saying: "Enter by the narrow gate," thus calling the gate of virtue by that name. Then, having said, "Enter by the narrow gate," He teaches us the reason why He so exhorts us. For if, He says, this gate is narrow, and has much labor at the entrance, yet if you labor for a little while, you will emerge into a great breadth and a great spaciousness able to provide you with rest. Do not, therefore, look at the fact that it is narrow, nor let the beginnings disturb you, nor let the narrowness of the entrance make you sluggish; for this wide gate and broad way end in destruction. Therefore, many are deceived at the beginning and the start, and foreseeing nothing of the things to come, they give themselves over to destruction.

This is why He says that the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and many are those who enter through it. And He rightly called it the wide gate and the broad way that leads to destruction. For those who hasten to climb up to the hippodromes, and to other such satanic spectacles, and who neglect temperance, and take no account of virtue, and wish to live wantonly, and those who give themselves over to luxury and gluttony, and are spent day by day in the madness and frenzy of wealth, and are gaping at the affairs of the present life—these walk the wide gate and the broad way. But when they have gone forward for a long time, and have gathered to themselves many burdens of sins, being consumed, when they reach the end of the road, they can go no further; for the narrowness of the road oppresses them, because they are unable, weighed down by the bulk of their sins, to pass through it; for which reason they are of necessity cast down into the precipice of destruction. What profit is it, then, tell me, to have walked the broad way for a little while, only to be in eternal destruction, and to have feasted, as one might say, only in a dream, to be punished in truth?

For whatever a dream of one night is, such is this present life compared to the punishment and torment that awaits us. For were these things written simply so that we might read them? It is for this reason that the grace of the Spirit has ordained that the Lord’s words be handed down, so that, receiving from them medicines to prevent our passions, we might be able to flee the punishment that hangs over us. For this reason, then, our Master Christ, applying the medicine appropriate to their wounds, said in His exhortation: "Enter by the narrow gate." And He called it narrow—not because it is narrow by nature, but because our own judgment, which is more inclined toward negligence, considers it narrow. Nor did He call it narrow in order to drive us away, but so that, having fled the width of the other, and having learned the true nature of each by its end, we might choose this one all the more.

^C 3. But in order that this teaching may be clear to all, come, if you please, let us bring into the middle those who enter through the wide gate and walk the broad way, and let us see what kind of end awaited them, and those who entered through the narrow gate and the afflicted road, and let us also learn what kind of good things welcomed them. Therefore, setting before you one of those who entered through this wide gate, and one of those who walked the narrow and afflicted way, let us demonstrate the truth of the things spoken by the Lord, using again that same parable of the Lord. Who, therefore, is the one who entered through the wide gate and walked the broad way? For it is necessary first to show who this is, and how great a length of road he traveled while walking the broad way, and then to make clear to you what kind of end he fell into. And I know you are wise and have already understood what is to be said; but nevertheless it is necessary for us to say it.

Remember for me that rich man—the one who every day was clothed in purple and fine linen, and feasted sumptuously, and kept parasites and flatterers, and poured out much unmixed wine, and gorged himself day by day, and gave himself over to great luxury, and entered through the wide gate, and was continuously found in pleasure and worldly gladness. For everything flowed to him as if from fountains: great care, unspeakable luxury, health of body, abundance of wealth, honor from the many, praises from the flatterers, and there was nothing for a time that pained him. And what is greater is that, spending his days in such a hangover and gluttony, he not only enjoyed physical health and every sort of security, but he even passed by the poor man Lazarus, who lay at his gate, full of sores, and surrounded and licked by dogs, and starving, without mercy, not even giving him the crumbs. And that one, having entered through the wide gate, walked the broad way: the way of luxury, the way of debauchery, the way of laughter, the way of rest, the way of gluttony, the way of drunkenness, of the accumulation of wealth, of effeminacy in dress.

^A And for a long time, during all the period of his present life, he walked the wide path, experiencing nothing painful; but being carried always by a favorable wind, and as if walking on a path that was always wide, he ran through it with great ease. Nowhere were there crags, nowhere precipices, nowhere submerged reefs, nowhere shipwreck, nowhere an uneven change, but walking constantly on ground that was firm and level, he thus ran through the present life, being swamped every day by the waves of wickedness, and yet perceiving nothing. Every day he was lacerated by wicked desires, and took even more pleasure in them. He was constantly besieged by debauchery, by gluttony, by the mania for wealth, and yet he perceived none of these terrible things, nor was he able to foresee the end of the road, but enjoying only the present pleasure, he took no thought of the everlasting pain, but, being deceived, so to speak, he walked the wide path, hastening toward the very precipice, unable to see it because of his great drunkenness. For the prosperity in all worldly affairs, having swamped his reason, blinded the eye of his mind; and having become, as it were, blinded in his vision, he walked thus, not knowing where he was being carried. Perhaps he did not even take thought of human nature, seeing himself suffering no difficulty at all. For he did not merely live in luxury; he was also wealthy. He did not merely possess wealth; he also enjoyed health of body. He did not merely enjoy health of body; he also had medical care—and not just a little, but seeing everything flowing to him as if from fountains, he passed his time in continuous pleasure. Do you see, beloved, the man who entered through the wide gate and walked the wide path throughout, how much rest he enjoyed? ^B But let no one who hears these things hasten to call him blessed before the end, but let them wait for the end of things, and then pass judgment. Since, therefore, it seems best, let us also bring into our midst the one who entered through the narrow gate and walked the afflicted path, and by beholding the end of both, we shall pass the appropriate judgment concerning each. For whom else have we now to bring forward but the Lazarus who was lying at the gate of the rich man, and was besieged by those ulcers, and saw the tongues of dogs touching his sores, and was not even able to drive them away? For just as that man, having entered through the wide gate, walked the wide path, so also this blessed man (for I call him blessed now because he chose to enter through the narrow way) entered through the narrow gate, which is the very opposite of the other and contains everything. Just as that man was constantly living in luxury, so this man spent his time struggling with hunger. And while that man enjoyed luxury and health of body and an abundance of wealth, and spent his days in gluttony and drunkenness, this man, clothed in hunger and extreme poverty, and [subjected] to constant sickness and unbearable ulcers, was lacking even necessary food, but desired the crumbs from the rich man's table, and was not even deemed worthy of those. ^C Did you see how this man, having entered through the narrow gate, walked the afflicted path continuously? Did you see how that man traveled through the wide gate and the wide path? But let us see, then, the end of both, and how that man ended in a narrow [end], while this man ended in one that is wide and full of great rest, so that having learned these things accurately, we may not by any means pursue the wide path, nor strive to enter through the wide gate, but may pursue the narrow gate and walk the afflicted path, so that we may be able to arrive at a destination that is good and full of rest. ^D For since the end of everyone's life has arrived, look at what he says regarding the one who walked the afflicted path first: "And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom." Perhaps the angels were leading him on, acting as his escort and guard, and were restoring him to the place of rest after those many afflictions and the narrow journey. Do you see how great the width of the narrow gate and the afflicted path appears at the end? Look, then, also at the wretched ends of the wide path. "He died," he says, "and the rich man, and he was buried." There was no one leading him, no one acting as his guard, no one to lead the way, as there was for Lazarus. For since he enjoyed all of these things on the wide path, and had many providing an escort, those who cared for him—I mean the flatterers and the parasites—when he reached the end, he became naked and bereft of all, after those many rests, or rather, after that brief rest and prosperity. For all the present life is short when compared to the life to come. After that brief rest, then, which he enjoyed walking the wide path, the place of constraint and affliction received him. And the one man was resting in the bosom of the patriarch, receiving the rewards for his labors and his great misery, and after the hunger and the ulcers and the lying at the gate, he was partaking of that ineffable rest which cannot even be expressed in words; but the other, after his food and rest and great gluttony and drunkenness, having arrived at that inescapable punishment, was being parched. And so that each of them might learn through the reality, the one the profit of the narrow path, and the other the loss and destruction of the wide path, they see one another from a great distance. Hear how: "And in Hades," he says, "lifting up his eyes, being in torments, he sees Abraham from afar, and Lazarus in his bosom." It seems to me, moreover, that having seen 796 the change in things that was so sudden—that the one who had been lying at the gate and lying before the tongues of dogs was enjoying such boldness and dwelling in the bosom of the patriarch, while he himself was clothed in such shame, and with this was also being parched by the fire—was receiving a greater sense of pain. Seeing, therefore, that things had inverted, and that he himself, so to speak, had lived in luxury in a dream and a shadow, and was now enduring unbearable punishment, and after the wide path and the wide gate...

he ended up at a narrow path; while for the other, the opposite had occurred, and because of his patience here, he was now enjoying those ineffable goods. Being in helplessness, and having learned by experience the deception which he had endured throughout by choosing the wide path, he makes a petition to the patriarch, and utters piteous words, full of tears. And he who before this would not even turn, nor could bear to look at Lazarus, the poor man cast at the gate, but even loathed him, so to speak, because of the stench of his sores and his own laziness, in which he had spent his time living in constant luxury, now supplicates the patriarch and says: "Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame." ^B The words are enough to draw one to pity; but even so, they availed him nothing more. For confession and intercession are untimely when not done at the proper time. "Send," he says, "that Lazarus, the poor man whom I previously loathed, to whom I did not even share my crumbs; for him I beg now, and that finger I seek, which the dogs used to lick." Do you see how punishment humbled him? Do you see how the wide path arrived at a narrow end? And he does not make his petition to Lazarus, but to the patriarch. With good reason; for he did not even dare to look the poor man in the eye. For he was mindful, I think, of his own inhumanity, and considering the cruelty which he had shown toward him, he suspected, perhaps, that he was not even considered worthy of an answer. For this reason he does not make his appeal to him, but supplicates the patriarch. ^C But even so he did not gain anything more. So great is the evil of untimeliness, and of giving the time of life granted to us by God's philanthropy to the task of our own salvation. For what adamant would not these words have softened, and led to pity and sympathy?

But yet even so, the patriarch does not assent to the request, but he does deem him worthy of an answer, and teaches him that he himself became the cause of these evils for himself. For the patriarch says to him: "Child, remember that you received your good things in your life, and Lazarus in like manner the evil things; but now he is comforted, and you are tormented. And besides all these, between us and you a great gulf is fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass over to us." The things said are fearful, and sufficient to take hold of those who have sense. For in order to teach him that, while he himself demonstrates his own compassion toward him, and is moved to pity, seeing the intensity of his punishment, he can bring him no further comfort, he says, as if excusing himself to him: "I wished to stretch out my hand to you, and to lighten your pains, and to cut short the intensity of your punishments, but ^D you yourself previously deprived yourself of this comfort." For this reason he says: "Child, remember." Behold the goodness of the patriarch; he calls him child. But this can indeed show his gentleness, yet it does not provide him any help, because he betrayed himself by himself. "Child," he says, "remember that you received your good things in your life." Come to a realization of your past, do not forget how much luxury you enjoyed, how much ease, how much vanity, how you spent your whole life in gluttony and drunkenness, thinking your entire existence was in those things, and defining those as being the good things. From his own judgment he fashioned the answer to him. For he, imagining nothing lofty, and not having before his eyes the evils that were to succeed him, used to think those things were good things.

e'. For this is also now the custom to say to the many who are maddened by luxury and gluttony, that "we have had many good things," when they wish to heighten the intensity of their great luxury. Do not call these things simply good, O man, considering that these indeed were given by the Master, so that by enjoying moderation, we might have the constitution of life, and maintain the weakness of the body; other things are the truly good ones. For none of these is good, not luxury, not wealth, not the extravagance of clothing, but it has only a name. What do I mean by "it has only a name"? These things, then, frequently become causes of destruction for us, when we do not use them as we ought. For wealth then would become good to the possessor, when he does not spend it on luxury alone, nor on drunkenness and harmful pleasures, but when, enjoying luxury in moderation, he distributes the rest to the stomachs of the poor—then wealth is good. But if someone intends to give himself over to luxury and the other dissipations, not only does it not benefit him at all, but it even brings him down to a deep precipice; which is what this rich man also suffered. Therefore the patriarch says to him: "Child, remember that you received your good things in your life." Those things which you thought were truly good, those you received, and Lazarus in like manner the evil things, not because Lazarus thought them evil—far be it!—but he also adduced this from the judgment of the rich man. For he, having ratified this judgment with himself, thought wealth and luxury and licentiousness and the other laziness were good things, and suspected poverty and famine and grievous illness were evil. As therefore you assumed, and had that mistaken judgment, remember that according to your own judgment you also received those good things, having walked the wide and spacious path, and Lazarus in like manner the evil things according to your own word, having walked the narrow gate and the afflicted path. Since therefore you saw only the beginnings of the path, but he also saw the end, being none the more sluggish because of the beginning of the path, for this reason now he is comforted here, and you are tormented, and to the contrary of one another you have reached the end. Have you seen through these very facts the end of the wide and spacious path? Have you learned how the narrow gate and the afflicted path received/bestowed a good end upon him who chose it? Hear also what is more fearful: "And besides all these things," he says, "between us and you a great gulf is fixed, so that those who desire to pass from here to there cannot, nor can those from there pass over to us." Let us not simply pass by what is said, beloved, but let us consider the precision of what was said, and how much honor and precedence the one who was cast by the gate enjoys—the despised one, the poor man, the one who was constantly wrestling with hunger, the one besieged by sores, the one laid before the dogs.

For I gladly turn these things over and over, so that no one

those in poverty or in illnesses or in hunger, despising himself, lamenting himself, but bearing all things with patience and thanksgiving, is already nourished by good hopes, awaiting those ineffable rewards and the recompenses for his labors. And in addition to all these things. What does "in addition to all these things" mean? Having said that you indeed received in the present life everything that you considered to be good, and that this man received what you considered to be evil, He added this, teaching him that each man also received the end corresponding to these things; for you, after the enjoyment of the goods you thought you had, [received] tribulation and distress and the unquenchable fire, while for him, after having struggled throughout his continuous life in those things you considered to be evils, ^A rest and the enjoyment of good things and a place with the saints received him. Since, therefore, each man found the end that followed, and the wide gate and the broad way ^B have caused you to arrive at this distress, while it led this man through the narrow and afflicted way to this rest, "And in addition to all these things," [He says], "between us and you [799] a great gulf is fixed." Look at the beggar, the one covered in sores (for I say these things again), numbered with the patriarch and enrolled in the choir of the righteous. "For between us and you," He says. Do you see what kind of lot received the one who bore with patience and thanksgiving that grievous infirmity and hunger? "For between us and you," He says, "a great gulf is fixed." "Great," He says, "is that which separates," and not simply a gulf, but a great one. And for truly great is the distance between virtue and vice, and great is the difference; for the former is wide and broad, but the latter is narrow and afflicted; indeed, luxury is wide and broad, but poverty and need are narrow and afflicted. So just as here the ways are contrary, and he who chooses virginity walks the narrow and afflicted way, and he who pursues temperance, and he who embraces poverty, and he who disdains vainglory, whereas he who hastens to walk the wide and broad way gives himself over to [excess], luxury, and the madness of wealth, and debauchery, and harmful spectacles, and great is the difference between them; so too in the time of punishment and recompense, ^C it is possible to find a great distance between the rewards. "For a great gulf," He says, "is fixed between us," that is, between the righteous, the virtuous, those who have obtained that lot, "and you," that is, those who have been consumed in wickedness and vice. And so great is the gulf that neither can anyone standing on this side cross over to you, nor can anyone from there pass over to us. Do you see the size of the gulf? Do you see an answer more grievous than Gehenna? In the beginning, when you heard of the prosperity of the rich man and the great attendance he had, being escorted by everyone and fixed upon luxury every day, did you not consider him to be blessed? And again, seeing the beggar cast at the gateway and surrendered to those grievous sores, did you not lament his life? But behold, now from the outcome of events we see the opposite happening, and the one [is] in flames after that luxury and drunkenness, and the other in the bosom of the patriarch after that extreme poverty and hunger. But so that we do not extend the discourse to a great length, it suffices to draw the instruction to a close here, and to exhort your love not to pursue the wide gate, nor the broad way, nor to seek rest at all costs, but while reflecting on the end of each, to flee the latter, considering what has overtaken this rich man, and to pursue the narrow gate and the afflicted way, so that we may be able to arrive at the place of rest after the tribulation of this life. Flee, therefore, I beseech you, from satanic spectacles, and the harmful sight of the chariot races. For because of those who are dragged away and who walk towards the broad way, I was led to say these things, so that, having learned, they might abandon the former, and having walked the afflicted way, [800] I mean that of virtue, they might be deemed worthy of the bosom of the patriarch like Lazarus, and having been delivered together from the fire of Gehenna, we may all enjoy those ineffable goods, which eye has not seen, and which the ear has not heard; which may we all attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, authority, and honor, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

ON THE HOMILY TITLED: THAT THE ASCETIC SHOULD NOT USE JESTS

Although this homily is not exactly inept, nor unworthy of a sensible man, yet as many as have touched, even with the tips of their lips, upon the method of prayer and the manner of discourse of the holy doctor will immediately notice that it is entirely abhorrent to the style of Chrysostom. To these things, many words occur here which were in no way familiar to Chrysostom, such as *lethargētai* (oblivisci), *vachylōs* (delicate), *melōdikōs anaklan* (to sing in modulated and broken notes). Anyone will discover not a few other foreign words of this sort in so brief a work of Chrysostom.