ON THE DICTION OF THE PROPHET DAVID, "FEAR NOT WHEN A MAN IS MADE RICH, AND WHEN THE GLORY OF HIS HOUSE IS MULTIPLIED" (Ps. XLVIII, 17); AND CONCERNING HOSPITALITY.
A It is sweet for the plowman to draw the plow to clear the field, to cut the furrows, and to pull up the thorns, and thus to sow his seeds, with no thorn remaining to harm the seed; much sweeter is it to the speaker when he casts divine concepts into an ear that is free from tumult. Therefore we begin the sermon with pleasure, because we see this field cleared. For although we do not see your mind, yet your open eyes and B raised ears provide me with an indication of inner tranquility. For I cannot enter into your conscience; but your eyes, intent and lifted on high, testify that there is no perturbation within; rather, you cry out with alacrity: "Sow the seeds; whatever you cast, we receive with the hope of reaping fruit; for we have cast out every worldly care from our mind." Therefore I always reach for a deeper sentiment, trusting in the nobility of the field. For Scripture seeks not only a wise teacher, but also an intelligent hearer. On this account I proclaim you blessed, and I proclaim myself blessed. For, he says, "Blessed is he who speaks into the ears of those who listen" (Eccli. XXV, 9). For all others are now in the forum and are being weakened by worldly cares, but you, having become superior to the earth, receive spiritual concepts; those men serve the handmaid, while they care for the flesh; you, by adorning a noble and free soul, preserve it yourself.
C Where are you now dwelling, O man? In the forum. What are you going to collect? Mud and mire. Come, receive ointment from me. Why do you collect fleeting money, greed—truly a tyrant—magistracies that perish, the abundance of worldly cares, which is here now, and tomorrow will not be? Why do you pull the flowers, leaving the fruit? Why do you run after the shadow, and do not comprehend the truth? Why do you pursue those things that perish, and not seek those that remain? "All flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away: but the word of the Lord endureth for ever" (Isai. XL, 6). Do you abound in riches? And what is this to the soul? You are richer in money, but poorer in soul; you are adorned with leaves, and lack fruit. What profit, I ask, is there in this? You have acquired money, which you are destined to leave here; you have acquired a magistracy, from which snares arise.
D Come, enjoy discourses full of philosophy: expiate your sins, lay aside your iniquities, cleanse your conscience, lift up your thought; be an angel and a man. Leave behind the nature of the flesh, and take up the light feather of life; separate yourself from visible things, so that you may cling to those things that do not fall under the senses. Ascend into the heavens, dance with the angels, stand before the supreme and lofty tribunal; leave behind the smoke and the shadow, the hay and the cobweb—for I cannot even find a name worthy of such baseness. Furthermore, I say these things, nor will I make an end of speaking. Come, and show yourself a man, lest the natural appellation be falsely ascribed to you. Do you understand what has been said to you? "He is a man," someone says, but he is a man often by name only, not likewise in sense. For when I see you living beyond reason, how shall I call you a man, and not an ox? When I see you grasping, how shall I call you a man, and not a wolf? When I see you committing adultery, how shall I call you a man, and not a swine? When I see you using guile, how shall I name you a man, and not a serpent? When I see you infected with poison, how shall I call you a man, and not an asp? When I see you senseless, how shall I...
call you a man, and not an ass? When I see you committing adultery, how shall I call you a man, and not a lustful horse? When I see you disobedient and uncomprehending, how shall I call you a man, and not a stone? A You have received nobility from God; why do you betray the virtue of your nature? What are you doing? Tell me. Other men have an art to transform even brute beasts, as far as possible, into human nobility: they teach parrots to speak with a human voice and compel nature by their craft; they make lions tame by leading them through the market. You make a lion tame, a beast that cannot be tamed, and yet render yourself more savage than a wolf? And what is more grievous: each of the brute beasts has one defect—the wolf is for rapacity, the serpent for guile, the asp for venom—but in a wicked man this is not the case. For a man often possesses not one defect, but becomes rapacious, and guileful, and venomous, and gathers the vices of the brutes into his own soul. How then shall I call you a man, you who do not have the badge of the kingdom, do not have the diadem, do not have the purple? "Let us make," He says, "man after our image and likeness" (Gen. 1. 26). Consider according to whose image you were made, O man, and do not be dragged down into the vileness of brute beasts. If you see a king casting away his purple and diadem and mingling with the soldiers, and betraying his own authority, how would you call such a king? And yet you are a man. Do not, therefore, show me that you have the soul of a man, but that you are a man in your disposition. You are a ruler of brute beasts, and have you become a slave to the brute passions within you?
2. "And how," you ask, "shall I become a man?" If you master the reasonings of the flesh, those irrational ones; if you cast out fornication; if you cast out that untimely desire for money; if you cast out that wicked tyrant; if you have made your own territory pure. But how do you become a man? If you come here, where men are created. If I take you a horse, I make you a man; if I take you a wolf, I make you a man; if I take you a serpent, I make you a man—not by changing nature, but by shifting the intent. But what do you say? "I have children, I preside over a house, I care for a wife, I am held by poverty, I hasten toward necessary food." These are pretexts and excuses. For if they held you here entirely, and did not permit you to yield even a small moment of time to external affairs, you would have been able to apologize to me and say, "I have children, and I preside over a house"; and you would rightly have said this—or rather, not even then should these things have been said. For God is sufficient for you, while you are occupied here, to arrange all your affairs with greater abundance. But now, I do not compel you to do any of these things, nor do I say, "Devote yourself every day," but one day out of the week. What is burdensome, what is heavy about this? Not even for the whole day, but for a small moment of time come to the church; receive B intellectual thoughts, that you may not receive wounds; not that you may cast others down, but that you may make the market a church. Come, take up an armor, that in the armor you may not receive the harmful blow. Stand on the battle line, only armed; stand in a holy place, only keeping your eyes pure; step into the harbor, only steering your ship with precision. These things you can learn here; and you do not wish to, but you go out into the worldly battle line naked of the commandments of God. Consider how great a thing it is to go out from the church, despising all human things, and trampling upon grievous things, and becoming higher than good things, neither elated by the former nor pressed by the latter; such as Job was, neither overwhelmed by poverty nor elated by wealth, but in the inequality of affairs keeping his own mind steady. Come, take an armor from me. And what armor? That which often guarantees your salvation. You go out, and you see a man elated upon a horse with a golden bridle, and many spearmen around him; then you see another, cheap and cast aside. Then envy enters you on account of the rich man; jealousy of the poor man possesses you. David approaches you, stands by you, and says: "Be not afraid when a man becomes rich" (Ps. 48. 17). Go out with the prophet, and do not be afraid. Go away where I tell you with the prophet, with the teacher, with the staff, with the herald. "Be not afraid when a man becomes rich." But you will say: "This is the advice of one exhorting and counseling, and declaring what is necessary; tell me also the way by which I am not obliged to fear the man." Because the nature of wealth imitates the nature of man. And how, I say. What is man? A vile, perishable, short-lived animal. Such also is wealth; or rather, not such, but even weaker. For it does not often end with the man, but even ends before the man. And you know in this city countless examples of the untimely death of wealth, and you have learned that the one possessing lives, but the possession has perished; for the death of wealth is the change into poverty. Consider, therefore, how short-lived the possession is. For the one possessing lives, but the possession has perished; and would that it perished alone, and did not also cause the possessor to perish along with it! Therefore, you would not err in calling wealth a thankless servant, a bloodthirsty and murderous servant, a servant that pays back the master with slaughter. And what is more grievous, not only when it leaves him does it surround him with dangers, but even before it leaves him, it disturbs and confuses him. For do not show me the one clad in silk garments, and breathing of perfume, and being served outwardly; but unfold his conscience, strip bare his mind while he still abounds in riches, and you will see tumults and confusions within. When you see another falling in that man’s fall, learn your own misfortune.
3. For what is more treacherous than human affairs? As I have often said, it imitates the nature of river currents, both appearing and passing by, both being held and leaping away. "Be not afraid when a man becomes rich." Take this word,
B as a treasure and as an argument; take this word as the root of riches and of opulence. For it is not the being rich, but the not wishing to be rich, that constitutes true riches. Have you understood what has been said to you? He who wishes to be rich needs possessions and money; but he who does not wish to be rich is always in opulence. "Be not afraid when a man becomes rich, or when the glory of his house is multiplied." Be not afraid, tell me, on what account? Because rich men are to be feared, the prophet explains the life. Why do you fear a man adorned with leaves, but devoid of fruit? Why do you fear a man who walks in bitterness? Why do you fear a man who is always trembling? Why do you fear a man living in perpetual fear? Your servant does not fear you when he is absent, but he carries his internal master about within him. Wherever he goes, the love of money follows him. He has his kinsfolk, his household, his friends, the envious, the beneficent—he has all as enemies at once. For he stirs up great envy. The poor man, to be sure, fears no one, since he is rich only in philosophy and patience. But the rich man, because he lives in the greed of possession, is hateful to all, and in public gatherings he walks about as an enemy, feigning kindness with his countenance while all hate him in their hearts. C That these things are so, when the wind comes and the leaves fall, when, that is to say, a change of affairs arrives, then feigned friends are discovered, then the masks of the flatterers are known, then the chorus of pretenders is made manifest, then the stage is opened. The mouths of all are opened, saying: "That wicked, dishonest, and most wretched man!" What do you say? Were you not flattering him yesterday? Were you not kissing his hands? Those were masks. The time came, and I have put off the mask and opened up the mind. Why, therefore, do you fear, I ask, him who is accused by so many? And what is this? Would that he did not accuse himself! I say these things, not because I wish to incriminate riches—as I have said a thousand times—but those who make evil use of good things. For riches are honorable when accompanied by works. How honorable? If they relieve poverty, if they sustain indigence. Hear Job saying: "I was eye to the blind, foot to the lame, I was father to the needy" (Job 29:15-16). Behold riches without sin, but with love for the poor. "My door was open to every comer" (Job 31:32). This is the ministry of riches, of those, indeed, that are riches not in name, but in reality. Those riches are servants to these; for those are a name drained of reality, while these possess the truth of both name and reality. Which are these? Those which are spent on virtues and the practicing of almsgiving. How? I will tell you. There is a rich man who plunders the goods of everyone, and there is a rich man who bestows his own upon the poor: the latter is rich in scattering, the former in gathering; that one sows the earth, this one cultivates heaven. As much as heaven excels the earth, so much is the opulence of the former weaker than the riches of the latter. D That one has countless lovers; this one is accused by all. And what is wonderful, the plunderer and the miser are hated not only by those who have been injured, but even by those who have suffered nothing of evil, grieving for the sake of those who have suffered ills; whereas the merciful man is beloved not only by those who have obtained mercy, but even by those who have experienced none. For virtue is more excellent than vice, brethren. Vice has as enemies even those who have not been injured, but almsgiving has as friends even those who have not been benefited. For everyone says: "May God do good to him." With what good have you been affected? With none; but he is my brother: not I, but my own member; for a benefit bestowed upon him, I regard as my own. Have you seen how great a good virtue is, how desirable, how lovable, how beautiful? The merciful man is a common harbor, a father to all, a staff to the aged. If the merciful man suffers anything unpleasant, everyone prays: "May God have mercy on him, may He do him good, may good things remain with him." But if you come to a plunderer, you will hear those saying: "That man is accursed, dishonest, wicked." What has he suffered? I nothing, but my brother. Countless clamors are present daily. If he should fall, everyone rushes upon him. Is this life? Is this wealth? Is not this condition worse than that of condemned criminals? The man who has been condemned is bound in body; this one is bound in soul. Do you see him in chains, and not have pity on him? I hate that one because he is bound, not by force, but by disposition: because he has drawn the chain upon himself. A [alt-version omitted] Again to the rich: you will say to me, "Again you are against the poor? Again you against the plunderers? Again you against those whose goods are plundered?" You are not satisfied while you devour and gnaw at the poor; I am not satisfied while I rebuke and correct you. Are you always clinging to these? Are you always clinging to the poor man? Depart from my sheep, go away from the flock; do not undermine it. But if you undermine my flock, do you consider it a crime if I pursue you? If I were a shepherd of sheep, would you not blame me if I did not pursue a wolf rushing into the flock? I am a shepherd of rational sheep, I do not pursue with a stone, but with a word; or rather, I do not pursue you, but I call you. Be a sheep, draw near, be of the number of my flock. Why do you corrupt the flock, which you ought to increase? I do not pursue you, but I pursue the wolf. If you are not a wolf, I do not pursue you. If you have become a wolf, accuse yourself. I am not against the rich, but for the rich. For in saying these things, I speak for you, even if you do not perceive it. How do you speak for me? Because I free you from sin, and from plunder, and I constitute you a friend to all, desirable to all. I always say to you: Have you plundered? Have you increased your money? Come, I will redeem you: I will convert enmity into friendship, danger into security. These things in this present life, but there again, I will give you the kingdom of heaven, that you may not depart into eternal punishments; that you may receive good things, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have they ascended into the heart of man (1 Cor. 2:9). Are these the words of one who persecutes, or of one who counsels? Of one who loves, or of one who hates? Verily you might hate me. But in truth, I love you. I have the commandment of my Lord: Love your enemies.
I do not stand aloof from you, for I am serving you. Our Lord was being crucified, and He said: A *Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do* (Luc. 23. 34). Or am I pursuing you? I am driving away your passion. Or am I warring against you? Against your wickedness. And do you not consider me a benefactor? Do you not consider me a guardian? Do you not consider me a protector more than all others? Who else will speak to you of these things? The ruler? He speaks of nothing like this; but of crimes, of accusations. The wife? Of ornaments, of gold. The son? Of inheritance, of testament, of estate. The servant? Of service, of servitude, of freedom. The parasites? Of feasts, of dinners, of luncheons. Those in the theater? Of shameful laughter, of unrestrained desire. Or the one in the forums? Of testaments, of inheritance, of freedom, which he is doing. B Where have you to hear these things, if not from me? All fear you, but I despise you; as long as you are such, I despise you, I disregard you, I despise your passion. I cut, and you cry out; but I do not fear your voice, I desire your salvation; for I am a physician. If, having a sore, you summoned a physician, and saw that he sharpened the steel, would you not say, "Cut, even if I feel pain," expecting salvation from the cutting? But you avoid me, though I do not cut, but cleanse your mind with the word. And yet what does the physician do? He often cuts, and makes the sore worse; but I do not make it worse, but better. For there, indeed, nature is at a loss, and there is the weakness of medicines; but here is the power of words. A physician does not guarantee your salvation, but I guarantee your salvation; listen to me. For this reason the only-begotten Son of God came down, that He might lead us up, and make us higher than the heavens. I fear one thing only, sin; but let all other things depart, whether wealth, or poverty, or power, or whatsoever. I say these things, and I will not cease from saying them; for I do not wish any of my flock to be lost. What then? Is it possible for a rich man to be saved? Yes, absolutely. Job was rich, Abraham was rich. You have seen his wealth? See also his hospitality. You have seen his table? See also his friendliness. What then of Abraham? He was rich. Did I dispute with you? Was Abraham rich? Yes, he was rich. You have seen his wealth? See also his way of life. *And at noon* the Lord *appeared unto him by the oak of Mamre as he sat; and behold three men. And he rose* (for he did not imagine that it was God who was present; for how could he?) *and worshipped*, and says: If you have judged me worthy, that you should enter into the tent of my beams (Gen. 18. 1-3). You have seen what the old man did at noon? Not sitting under a roof, but drawing in strangers and travelers unknown from anywhere, C and D rising, he, the rich and noble one, worshipped. He who had stripped himself of wealth and left home, wife, children, servants—albeit having three hundred and eighteen—leaving all, he went forth to fish; he spread the net of hospitality, lest any traveler, lest any stranger, should pass by the house. See what the old man does. He does not permit a servant—although having three hundred and eighteen—for he knew that the class of servants is heavy; lest perhaps the servant should doze off, and the stranger should pass by, and he should lose the catch. See Abraham, see the rich man. Do you deign even to see a poor man? To respond? To converse? But even if you ever give, it is through a slave. But the righteous man was not so; but he sat receiving the hot ray, having dew distilling in the heat; his desire for hospitality was his shade; he sat reaping the fruit of hospitality, and this being a rich man. Compare to me the rich of today. Where do they sit at noon? In Hades. Where do they sit? In the death of drunkenness. Where do they sit? In the public square, cast down, drunk, hardened in heart, more irrational than irrational animals. But the righteous man was not so.
5. Do you wish to imitate Abraham? Imitate him thus; I do not forbid, but I even advise; although we are required [to be] greater than Abraham. For, if, He says, *your righteousness shall not exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven* (Matth. 5. 20). But for now, you should at least reach Abraham. And what did Abraham possess? He was hospitable, and he stood up, and he worshipped, not even knowing who were the passersby. For if he had known, he would have done nothing marvelous, because he served God; but the ignorance of those who had arrived demonstrates greater eagerness for hospitality. And he sat and received. And how? Bountifully; he sacrificed a calf, and he calls also Sarah, and makes the woman a partner of the hospitality, and not hiding in a chamber, but standing under the tent. For that table finally opened her womb, and corrected the barrenness of nature. He sacrificed a calf, and received Isaac; he kneaded flour, and received her seed, the stars of heaven, and as the sand of the sea. But you will surely say: Give also to me the fruit of so many genuine sons. Wretched and miserable and most worthless one, are you seeking things on earth? I give you heaven, the choir with angels, I give you that which is for an age and has no end. The reward is greater, the enjoyment more, and do you seek corruptible death? The return to you is life. Pay attention with precision to what I say, so that you may see the reversal of things. For when it was necessary to show hospitality, what does Abraham say to his wife Sarah? Hasten, and knead three measures of fine flour. Let women hear what is said. Hasten, and knead three measures of fine flour. For the theater is common to us, and the school is proposed for either nature. Let women hear what is said; let men also hear, and let them imitate. Hasten, he says, and knead three measures of fine flour; and he himself ran to the herd of the oxen. They divide the labor, that they may divide also the crown. The things of marriage are common; let also the things of virtue be common. I took you as a help; be to me a helper also in higher matters; hasten, hasten. He urges the wife, and so that delay might not cast the guests into despondency: Hasten, and knead three
measures of fine flour. A She did not say, "Do this yourself." And to these, she might have said—a woman possessing such wealth—"You have three hundred and eighteen servants, and you do not trouble yourself with commanding them, but you force me to this service?" She said nothing of the sort, nor did she even think it; but because she was the wife of Abraham, being a partner not only of his body but also of his virtue, she therefore said to him, "Hasten," and she eagerly snatched up the command; for she knew the abundant fruit of hospitality. "Hasten, knead." She knew the woman’s diligence. Where are the women of today? Let us compare them with Sarah. Do they receive such commands? Such works? Present to me the hand of a woman fond of ornaments; you see it gilded externally, but internally as if besieged. How many, pray, are the spoils of the poor that your hand carries? Present your hand, show it. With what is it adorned? Rapine. Present the hand of Sarah. With what is it adorned? Hospitality, almsgiving, the love of carity, the love of the poor. O glorious right hand! Behold the right hand, and the right hand. B But the form of the right hand is one, yet the difference is great. There, fountains of tears; here, crowns and prizes. I say these things so that wives may not seek such things from husbands, nor husbands bear with wives who seek such things. Behold Sarah, behold that wealthy woman; she kneaded three measures of fine flour. What great labor! But she did not perceive the labor, because of the hope of the fruit and the gain. "Hasten, knead three measures of fine flour." What are you doing? You are beautifying and adorning yourself, woman? To whom do you wish to please? To your husband? A wicked study, if you are to please him by this means, if you study thus to please him. How then shall I please? By continence. But by what means shall I please? By modesty, by philosophy, by gentleness, by charity, by concord, and by harmony. These are your ornaments, woman. These virtues of yours produce concord, while those ornaments do not achieve what you think, but rather they provide that you are a burden to your husband. For when you say to him, "Snatch and bring to me," you please him for a small time, but afterwards you have him as an enemy. But that you may learn that you do not please your husband: you lay those things aside at home, and in the church you adorn yourself with them; if you were pleasing your husband, you would wear them at home. But, as I have said, you enter into the church with gilded hands and neck. If Paul should come, that man who is both terrible and lovable—terrible to sinners, lovable to those who live piously—he will cry out and will say likewise: "Women ought to adorn themselves, not with gold and pearls or costly apparel" (1 Tim. II, 9). C Then if a Gentile should enter, and see them wearing those things in the upper part of the church, yet Paul speaking these things in the lower, will he not say: "These things are a show and a fable"? Certainly our matters are not a show, even if these things happen in this way. But that Gentile goes out and says: "I entered the church of the Christians, and I heard Paul saying, 'Not in gold and pearls,' yet I saw the woman exhibiting the contrary by her deeds." For truly your husband loves you, even if you are deformed, yet you seem lovable to him; but if he should hate you, even if you are beautiful, he will not even want to see you. For the hatred of the soul does not allow the beauty of the countenance to appear. For when you are about to ask from him ornaments and gold, then he is about to turn away from you, just like someone in the market who demands something from him. But from him he can flee, but from you he cannot, for you are always inside, and you seek duties contrary to reason. Do not receive these things in your ears only, O woman, but may you be changed in your mind. My words are remedies that bite for a time, but they perpetually help and bring pleasure. I am a physician, I probe the wounds, so that they may not, through old age, make the ulcer worse. I practice medicine, bestowing health through the word; others, however, show the fleeting, deceptive, and vile condition of the present life. But what I was saying about Abraham (for I will not forget the promise), "Hasten, permisce," let every woman describe these things in her mind, let every man have these things in his conscience. ...beautiful and fair? But that brings you nothing for the beauty of the soul. Be beautiful in mind, and you will be lovable in body. "The wisdom of a man will illuminate his face" (Eccle. VIII, 1). Yet wisdom is of his soul. Nothing produces love as much as charity. If you... D ...you adorn yourself, and the poor man wasted with hunger sits before your doors, and Christ is dying of hunger. O extreme madness! What defense? What pardon, when Christ stands before your doors in the guise of a poor man, and you are not moved in the least? Who will rescue you from the punishments to be brought upon you there? "I gave," you will say, "alms." But do not give only as much as that one wishes, but as much as you are able. What then will you say, I pray, when the intolerable punishments, when those tortures arrive, when the threats, and the terrible powers, when the river of fire will heave with noise, when that terrible tribunal, when the incorruptible judgment, when that nature which has no beginning, when the cessation of human affairs, when neither father, nor mother, nor neighbor, nor king, nor traveler, nor guest will be able to help you, but the human being will stand alone with his works, by reason of which he will be either condemned or crowned? What then will you say? Then you will remember my words. But what utility is there for you from this? None; since that rich man remembered, and was seeking a time of repentance; but he brought back no gain from this. Yet he was saying: "Send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger into water, and cool my tongue, for I am vehemently tormented" (Luc. XVI, 24). But He did not send Lazarus, not because a drop of water would bring a loss to the great fountain of paradise, but because a drop of alms can in no way be mixed with inhumanity. For because he had been held in contempt during the time of the stadium, he deemed him worthy of no consolation during the time of the crown. ...I say, that neither the poor man may weep because of poverty, nor the rich man rejoice because of wealth. Are you wealthy? May the wealth perish, unless you bring fitting wealth into the midst. "Hasten, and knead three measures of fine flour." Then he himself ran to the oxen, and slaughtered a calf. The old man was a runner; for the vigor of his flesh was not released, but...
the mind of his philosophy was fortified; his zeal overcame nature. The master of three hundred and eighteen servants, carrying a calf, was not weighed down by the burden, but his mind was lightened by his zeal. The running set before the old man was a great service, and for his wife it was toil and labor. For not only with the generosity of wealth and the abundance of his table 515 did they entertain their guests, but also with service and much ministry, not through servants, but serving with their own hands and members. Then the woman stood by, having taken the appearance of a handmaid, and the guests reclined—the strangers—for I will not cease to say this. For they supposed them to be certain poor men; yet they did not pay attention to this, but to the fact that they were entertaining strangers. And both stood by at that time, reaping the cluster of hospitality with their judgment, with their philosophy, with their ministry, with their reception, with their toil, with their service, with their love, with their stewardship, with their diligence, with their leaving nothing undone. And the woman stood by the tree, using the tree instead of a chamber, and having the shadow of the leaves as a roof, and she was not ashamed to be seen in public. For she stood exhibiting her own modesty, and reaping the fruit of her ministry. What then did the one who arrived say? "I will return at this time, and Sarah shall have a son." What a fruit the table blossomed! How beautiful! How swift! How ripe! How the cluster was ripening and fulfilled! For that word indeed came into the womb and created the child. Such are the fruits of hospitality. Pay attention to what I am about to say. After these things, when the child grew, he who was born from the table, when the fruit of hospitality became a man (for the womb did not beget him as the table beget him, and before all, the word of God), when he grew and became a man, and the time for marriage was finally at hand (pay close attention to what I say), that blessed old man, that patriarch Abraham, was finally about to die; but he lived among corrupted women and a most wicked nation. Having called his servant, he says, "The women of the Canaanites are wicked. What then do you wish? Go to the land from whence I was born, and bring a woman from there for my son." New and paradoxical things. You know, and know full well: when anyone wants to bring a woman for his son, both father and mother discuss it, and they arrive at strange houses, and they flatter this one and court that one, and many matchmakers and many brides-men become involved, and there are promises of money, and all eagerness is for the father and mother to discuss it through themselves, and they are not ashamed, nor do they blush, nor do they order servants to do it; but when a stranger comes, they say, "Go yourself, bring him down, receive him." But Abraham acted inversely: when it was necessary to perform a high and philosophical deed, he does it through himself; he did not entrust the hospitality to a servant, but to his wife and himself; but when a woman and marriage were being woven, he says, "Go" to the servant. Here women do the opposite. If they want to discuss something with a goldsmith, they are not ashamed, but they go out themselves, and sit beside them, so that the gold might not be stolen, and the desire for wealth 516 lets them disregard decorum and modesty. But Abraham did not act so; rather, when he wanted to entertain strangers, he did it through himself and his wife; but when it came to the marriage, he did it through the servant. Why then do you remember Abraham? Because he was rich. Think these things about Abraham, and you will never despise anyone. But from where did I digress to say these things? Having taken the prophet and that staff: "Do not fear, when a man becomes rich." For that verse gave birth to all these things. And behold, we have found a treasure full of gold. "Do not fear, when a man becomes rich." Take this staff, which is able to raise up bodies that are trembling. For a wooden staff is not as able to raise up the trembling bodies of the old and elderly as this verse is able to raise up the mind that is trembling in those who are young and those who are aged in desire and besieged by sin. "Do not fear, when a man becomes rich." Why do you fear a man who is not a man, but a wolf? Why do you fear a man full of impieties, and besieged by gold? Why do you fear a man who has betrayed his own things through injustice, and who often has an enemy within? But the prophet declared, saying: "Do not fear, when a man becomes rich." Tell me, then, the manner through which I ought not to fear the rich man. "Or when the glory of his house is multiplied." Oh, the nobility of the expression! How, in its narrating and teaching, it introduced philosophy: "Do not fear, when a man becomes rich, or when the glory of his house is multiplied!" He did not say, "And when his glory is multiplied," but, "The glory of his house." For when you enter into the house of some rich man, and see in his house columns towering in size, and golden capitals, and marbles fixed to the wall, and flowing fountains, and springs and walks, and trees bent by the wind, and everything full of mosaics, and a herd of eunuchs wearing gold, and a multitude of servants, and carpets lying on the floor, and a table gleaming with gold, and decorated bedchambers: all these things are the glory of the house, not the glory of the man. For the glory of a man is piety, equity, almsgiving, meekness, humility, peace, justice, love unhypocritical towards all. These are all the glory of man. Why do you fear the rich man? Therefore, fear his house more. For it is that which is rich, not the one who dwells in it. "But I do not fear that," he says. Why? "Because gold is soulless matter." But do you fear the man? "Yes." Why? Is the wealth not his? It is the magnificence of the house. The wall has marbles. What then is that to the one who dwells in it? The ceiling is golden. What is that to the owner? The capitals of the columns are golden. What is that to the one who is in the mire of sins? And the pavement is clean? But the conscience is unclean. And the garments are delicate? But the soul is burdened. When a man becomes rich, his possessor is poor. When the glory of his house is multiplied. And that I might refute you, even regarding this glory of the house and not of men, by your own words. Having entered into the beautiful house of someone and later having exited, what do you say? "I saw beautiful marbles." Do you say, "I saw a beautiful man?" Miraculous are the columns, beautiful the windows...
[LATIN COLUMN]
511 S. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE. ...are yours. Do you say, "The master is wonderful"? There is much gold in the ceilings. Do you say, "The alms-giving is great"? There are many fountains, a vast magnificence. Do you say, "The magnificence of the owner is vast"? You speak everywhere of walls, everywhere of marbles, everywhere of fountains, of waters. You see again a horse gleaming with a golden bridle, and you say, "The bridle is beautiful." Therefore, this is the praise of the goldsmith. "The garment is excellent." Therefore, the praise belongs to the weaver. "The servants are showy." Therefore, this is the praise of the seller. Yet he himself remains un-crowned, while his possessions are adorned with praises. But when you see a righteous man, you say: "A righteous man, beautiful, modest, wonderful, merciful, benevolent, contrite, always occupied with prayers, always insistent in fasts, always lingering in the church, never removing himself from divine teaching." These are his praises, these are his crowns. Learn, therefore, what the riches of a man are, and what the riches of a house: *Do not be afraid.* For if you have learned to distinguish riches rightly, you will no longer be afraid. Do you see him, whom you thought to be rich, to be poor and needy? *Do not be afraid when a man has become rich.* And so that you may learn that these things are so, and if this deceives you here, look to him at the time of death. Does he take anything of all these, and thus depart? Certainly, he is dead, and lies naked, he who was clothed in silken garments. He lies naked in the tomb, and his servants depart and leave, and no one cares for him: for they were not his servants. He went away, and henceforth nothing of his own lies there. His wife laments and tortures herself, loosens her hair: all console her, but she does not hear; the children are orphans, the wife is a widow: all are cast down, the cup-bearers, the flagons, the parasites, the flatterers, the eunuchs. He cannot take any of those vessels and depart; but what? He is carried out alone. They extol him with praises. What is that to him? Yet does vain glory make him renowned? Why? Is he able to take anything from it? Nothing of those things can be with him on that day. Into the tomb 512 he departs who had seized everything; he is buried within three cubits, and nothing more; the earth covers his face and the same for the lid of the casket. The wife withdraws. Where are the riches? where are the servants? where the pomp? where the large and splendid houses? They abandon him: even the wife deserts him, whether she wills it or not: for the stench drives her away, the fountains of worms expel her. Is this the whole of it? Yes: for he departed having nothing of his own. But that you may learn that he departed having nothing of his own, the blessed martyrs, because they carry their own things with them, obtain this, that we do not depart from their sepulcher. But here, not even the wife can remain: there the Emperor casts aside his diadem, and remains at the sepulcher of the martyr, praying and beseeching that he might be delivered from evils and might conquer his enemies. Therefore, do not be afraid when a man has become rich. Having taken this verse, let us begin to sing to the Lord, and for all these things let us give thanks to Him, to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, because to Him are glory and power forever and ever. Amen.
BY THE SAME, WHEN ANOTHER HAD FINISHED HIS DISCOURSE, A SERMON DELIVERED IN CONSTANTINOPLE, IN THE GREAT CHURCH, WHEN FEW HAD GATHERED, ON THAT: "DO NOT BE AFRAID WHEN A MAN HAS BECOME RICH," AND ON ALMS-GIVING.
The fruit of him who spoke well is short, but ripe: the string is thin, but the sound is vast: words are few, but the thoughts are of great value. For he both excited the entire people with praises, and made them more diligent with his proclamations, and indicated the author of the husbandry, and having composed hymns in His praise, after he had given thanks according to the Apostle's precept, he concluded his discourse with glorification. But if he removed the table quickly, he did not do it out of poverty, but out of humility. For it was not because he could not say more that he put an end to the prayer by keeping silent, but so that he might yield the duty of teaching to us. Come, therefore, let us also, freed from the storm of the tumults which have already occurred, wash our ears with the reading of the Scriptures, as if with certain river waters. Sailors do the same: after they have escaped the storm, and having crossed the vast sea have arrived at a tranquil port, having lowered their sails, having put aside the oar, and having disembarked from the ship, they refresh the body with baths, food, drink, sleep, and delights, so that they may render it more vigorous and better suited for the remaining navigation.
A Having been delivered from the disturbance, the noise, and the waves, let us moor our soul, as if in a quiet harbor, to the reading of the Scriptures. For the fellowship of the divine Scriptures is a harbor devoid of waves, a wall unbroken, a tower unmoved, a glory which cannot be taken away, a shield invulnerable, a joy unfading, and a pleasure perpetual; it is all that one can call good. It repels dejection and preserves joy; it makes the poor man richer than the wealthy, and it bestows security upon those who are rich; it makes the sinner righteous, and it establishes the righteous in a secure custody; it pulls up the evils that exist and plants the good that were lacking; it drives away wickedness and leads back to virtue, and not only leads back but takes root and causes it to remain perpetual, being a spiritual medicine, a divine and ineffable incantation, an exterminator of passions. For it pulls up the thorns of sins and works the field clean, and it casts in the seeds of piety and leads the fruit to maturity.
Therefore, let us not neglect such great goods, nor let us be absent from the assemblies, but let us run here constantly, that we may be continuously healed, and neither let any man be struck with envy when he sees one who is rich, nor let anyone be crushed by poverty; but having learned the true nature of things, let him pass by the shadows, but lay hold of the truth. For a shadow, even if it appears larger than the body, is nonetheless a shadow; or rather, it is not larger, but it seems so, and then it seems so when we are further from the ray of light; thus indeed, when around the steady midday the ray standing overhead is gathered from all sides, and it is contracted, and it becomes shorter; this indeed is also possible to see in human affairs. For as long as one places himself further from virtue, the things of the present life appear great; but B when he places himself in the very brightest light of the divine Scriptures, then he sees both the cheapness, and the shortness, and the nothingness of these ephemeral things, and he learns clearly that these things are disposed in no better condition than river waters, which are at once appearing and flowing past.
For this cause the Prophet, philosophizing and correcting those who were narrow-minded, and miserable, and dragging themselves on the ground, and gaping at the fantasy of wealth, and fearing and trembling before those who abound in these things, and leading us away from such anxiety and persuading us to despise them as being nothing, said: "Be not afraid when a man is made rich, or when the glory of his house is multiplied. For he shall take nothing when he dies" (Ps. 48. 16-17). Do you see the precision of the word and the most clear distinction? For he did not say, "When his glory is multiplied," but, "The glory of his house," showing that the glory of a man is one thing, and the glory of a house is another. What, then, is the glory of a man, and what is the glory of a house? For it is necessary to know these things clearly, so as not to embrace dreams before the truth. The glory of a house, then, is porches, promenades, a golden ceiling, a floor adorned with mosaics, meadows, gardens, herds of slaves, the expensive furnishings, none of which belong to the man. The glory of a man is sound faith, zeal according to God, charity, gentleness, C reasonableness, the intensity in prayer, the philosophy of almsgiving, moderation, decorum, and all the other members of virtue. And that you may learn that these take this manner, he who possesses those things does not reap the glory from them, nor would anyone be called good because he has a good house, or garden, or meadow, or a multitude of slaves, or the expense of garments. For all the wonder stands about the possession, not passing over to the one who has it. For we admire the house, and the garden, and the meadow, and the beauty of the garments, which are a eulogy of those who worked the craft, not of the virtue of the possessors; but it is even, on the contrary, proof of all wickedness.
D 2. The nature of these possessions is so far from clothing the possessors with glory that it even harms it with excess. For as if they were raw, and inhuman, and boorish, and foreign to philosophy, so everyone mocks those who display their wealth in these things; for these things are not the glory of a man, as I said, but of the house; those, however, who live in moderation, in decorum, in gentleness, who are reasonable, and who are dedicated to God with precision—them we admire, we praise, we proclaim, since this is most especially the glory of a man. Knowing these things, therefore, do not consider any of those who are clothed in those things, which have nothing in common with him, to be enviable. And if you see someone sitting on a vehicle, pulling up his eyebrows, haughty, touching the clouds themselves, not by the nature of the matter (for it is not possible), but by the arrogance of the soul, or rather by the stupidity, do not think that this man is glorious, nor lofty and great. For it is not mules pulling him that make him lofty, but the summit of virtue leading up 521 to the vaults of the heavens.
And if you see another sitting on a horse, having many of those who carry rods, and making a commotion in the marketplace, do not bless even this man for these things, but unfold his soul, and then pass judgment concerning him, things which the sight of that one suggests. For as for the things now being done, they are ridiculous. For why do you make a commotion in the marketplace, tell me; and why do you drive away those who meet you, and chase them away, being a man, a man? What is the pride? What is the arrogance? For have you become a wolf, or a lion, so as to turn everyone to flight upon entering a city? Rather, indeed, a wolf would never chase a wolf, nor a lion a lion, but they congregate together, revering the communion of nature; but you, who along with nature have many other rights of gentleness, of humility, of equal law, why do you become more bestial than the beasts, and because of the irrational, despise the rational? And your Master led man up into heaven, but you do not even share an alleyway with him? And what do I say "into heaven"? He sat him upon a royal throne, but you also drive him out of the city? And what does the golden bridle desire to be for you, the one adorning the horse? And of what defense will you obtain enjoyment, or of what pardon, by adorning the irrational creature—which does not even perceive the ambition—beyond the need (for gold and lead are the same to him), while seeing Christ wasting away with hunger, and not even making (him) enjoy the necessary food? And why do you not endure, being a man, to mingle with men, seeking solitude in the midst of the cities, and do not perceive that your Master even ate with tax collectors,
and spoke with a harlot, and was crucified with robbers, and mingled with men; but being puffed up with arrogance and pride, you lose the very nature of man? A Hence arises in us a great contempt for mercy, hence the passion for avarice, hence cruelty and inhumanity. For when you apply a golden bridle to a horse, and a golden bracelet to a servant, and golden plates to a stone, and you have golden skins, golden garments, a golden belt, and likewise shoes, and you impose upon yourself so great a necessity of this wickedness, wishing to satisfy an insatiate desire, and to feed the most savage beast of all, I mean avarice: then you both plunder the orphans, and lay the widows bare, and walk as the common enemy of all, having engaged in a vain labor, reaching a course B which will be closed by no good end. For what does this mean, that you adorn your barbarian servant with gold? What gain, what usefulness to the soul arises, what benefit to the body, what return to the house? Nay, rather, it is the exact opposite: an untimely expenditure, expenses alien to reason, material for luxury, proofs of malice, an occasion for a prodigal and dissolute life, a corruption of the soul, a path which leads to countless evils. And beds joined with silver and shining with gold, stools and basins fashioned from them, and much laughter—what can they contribute to the amendment of life? Or what have they helped you to become better, or your wife, or any other of your domestics? Does not this rather produce thieves and many wall-perforators? C Does not this make fugitive servants? For when, wherever they turn their eyes, they see silver shining, the disease of theft is nourished in them. For if, in you, a free man who thinks magnificently of yourself on account of your nobility, the silver that shines in the market lures you to desire: much more so in the servant. And I do not say these things to absolve fugitive servants of their crime, nor those who perpetrate such evils, but to exhort you not to furnish them the food of such diseases. "But," they say, "where shall we deposit these riches? Are we to bury them in the earth?" Far from it; but if you are willing to acquiesce in my counsels, I will teach you the manner by which you will be able to make this fugitive servant honest and faithful.
D 7. For riches are also a fugitive, today passing to this one, tomorrow to another; and they are not only themselves fugitives, but they even make others fugitives, while they cause those to whom they have been entrusted for safekeeping often to take flight. By what means, finally, can this fugitive be held? By a way completely contrary to other fugitives. For others, while they are held, remain, but this one, if he is held, will flee; if he is dispersed, he will remain. But if by chance what I say seems new to you, learn this from the farmers. For when they bury wheat inside their houses, they expose it to be gnawed and destroyed by moths and worms; but if they disperse it in the fields, they not only preserve it, but even multiply it. So also riches, while they remain in chests, and under doors and bars or buried in the earth, they quickly flee; but if, as farmers do with wheat in the fields, you disperse them into the bellies of the poor, not only do they not flee, but they become more plentiful from it. Knowing these things, therefore, do not hand them over to servants, but entrust them to be held by countless hands, namely, of widows, of orphans, of the maimed, and of those who are shut up in prison. For they will not be able to flee when held by so many hands, but will be held firmly, and will become greater. "But what shall I leave behind for my children?" he says. Truly, you must not pour out everything; although if you poured out everything, in this way you would enrich your children more, while for the money you would leave God as their propitiator, and riches gained by alms, and countless helpers and benefactors among men. For just as we pursue thieves with hatred, even though we have suffered no injury, so do we revere and love those who know how to show mercy and succor the needy, even though nothing has flowed to us from their liberality; and we love not only them, but their children as well. Consider, therefore, how great a thing that honor is, that your sons should be seen to be loved by countless men, when all pronounce these words, if wealth be spent for the sustenance of the needy: "This is the son of a benevolent man, this is the son of a merciful man." But you adorn a thing that is void of sense; for a stone is devoid of sense, however many countless talents of gold you may cover it with; yet to him who is endowed with sense, and is being killed by hunger, you do not impart even necessary food. When, therefore, that dreaded tribunal shall appear, and the rivers of fire, when we shall be required to give the accounts of the things we have done, with what defense will you protect such sloth and such stupidity and inhumanity? What legitimate excuse will you bring? For just as each one of the others has a proposed goal and a reason by which he directs his actions—and the farmer, if you should demand an account from him, will say for what cause he joined the oxen, drew the furrow, drove the plow, and the merchant why he launched his ship into the sea and hired workmen and deposited money, and the architect and the shoemaker, the copper-smith, the baker, and the individual craftsmen of any arts whatsoever render an account and a cause—so you also, while you so cover a bed with silver, while you gild a horse and a stone, and prepare skins of such a kind, if an account be demanded of you, what cause will you say? What means? Does a sweeter sleep come over you from such a bed? But this you can by no means say; nay rather, if something must be said contrary to opinion, it is even more unpleasant: for the worry is greater, and the anxiety greater. Or is the structure firmer on account of the gold? Not even this is true. Or is the horse better on account of such a bridle? Or the servant? Clearly, the opposite is seen here also. Why, therefore, do you show yourselves so inept in all these things? You will surely say that you acquire for yourselves a more illustrious glory from them. What? Have you not already heard from the very beginning of the sermon, that these are not the glory of a man, but the exact opposite, ignominy and disgrace, and contempt—and from this is born envy and malice, those terrible things; and the more permanent the possessions, the more permanent the accusation of greed, and these great houses stand uttering a voice, and after the death of those who acquired them, as most bitter accusers; and the body itself is delivered to the earth, but the house does not permit the greed to be buried with the flesh, but every passerby, and those looking up to the height and the greatness of the magnificent house, either in regard to himself, or in regard to his neighbor,
A to blame and mockery? From these, countless evils arise; and the more stable the possessions, the more constant and everlasting the accusation. For these huge and magnificent houses stand like the voices of certain most grave accusers, even after the death of their possessors; and the body, indeed, is entrusted to the earth, but the memory of the pride is not suffered to be buried together with the body; but every passer-by, as he beholds the height and the magnitude of the splendid house, or speaks to his neighbor or himself, says: "How many tears were shed to build this house? How many orphans were stripped of their own? How many widows were wronged? How many were deprived of their wages?" Hence the very opposite of what you want happens to you; for desiring to enjoy glory while you are alive, you are not rid of your accusers even after life is ended; but the house, carrying your name about like a bronze monument, prepares even those who never saw you while you were alive to cast ten thousand insults at you.
4. Since, therefore, this superfluous display brings no such profit, let us flee, beloved, let us flee this disease, and let us not become wilder than irrational beasts. To them all things are common, both earth, and springs, and pastures, and mountains, and wooded glens, and one has nothing more than the other; but you, a human being, the tamest of animals, become more savage than a beast, locking up the food of ten thousand poor people—and often more—within one house. Yet it is not only nature that is common to us, but also other things far more numerous than nature: the heaven is common, and the sun, and the moon, and the dance of the stars, and the air, and the sea, and fire, and water, and earth, and life, and death, and growth, and old age, and sickness, and health, and the need for food and garments. And spiritual things, again, are common: the holy table, the Body of the Lord, the precious Blood, the promise of the kingdom, the laver of regeneration, the cleansing of sins, righteousness, sanctification, redemption, the unspeakable goods B which *eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and which have not entered into the heart of man* (1 Cor. 2:9). How is it not absurd that those who share in so many things with one another—by nature, by grace, by promises, and by laws—should be so grasping in money matters, and should not maintain the same equality, but exceed the ferocity of irrational beasts, and this when they are soon to depart from them, and not only to depart, but even to be in danger of the ultimate ends because of these things? For death leads one away from enjoyment, but leads one onward to accounts and to immortal punishments. In order, therefore, that this may not happen, let us practice much almsgiving. For this is the queen of virtues, who will stand there with boldness, and will rescue one from punishment and retribution, and no one will stand against one who enters into heaven with her. For light is her wing, and great is the excess of her boldness, and she ascends to the royal throne itself, bringing in her fosterlings with safety. For *your prayers*, it says, *and your almsgivings have ascended for a memorial before God* (Acts 10:4). Why, then, do we not also ascend to that height, having been freed from this untimely greed and useless luxury and display? Let us make the superfluous things useful, disposing of that great wealth and putting it into the right hand of the Judge, who will be able to guard it with accuracy, and on the day of judgment will be gentle and merciful concerning it; even if we have been guilty of ten thousand sins, He will bestow upon us forgiveness and defense; which may it be our lot to attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power, for ever and ever. Amen.
NOTICE ON THE HOMILY ON THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN: "PRAISE, O MY SOUL, THE LORD"
Of the time in which he delivered it, it cannot be detected by any art. Nor can we know for certain whether he preached it at Antioch or Constantinople. Perhaps one thing might persuade us that it was delivered at Antioch; namely, that in chapter 6 he brings forward as an example monks living on the mountains; a thing that he says frequently about the monks near Antioch. But let these be said as conjectures for the place: for the matter is not explored. We reject the interpretation of Nannius as being less accurate, and we provide a new one.