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On That SayingJohn Chrysostom · PG 55
Greek & scans

On That Saying

John Chrysostom · PG 55 · cols 499–510 · machine translation (AI, from the page scans)

John Chrysostom55
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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...

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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,

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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.

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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

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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...

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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...

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