ORATION XXXVI
Concerning himself, and addressed to those who said he was ambitious for the see of Constantinople, and concerning the eagerness which the people had shown toward him.
A I. I marvel what it is that has happened to you regarding my discourses, and why you have become so captured by my voice—a foreign one, perhaps meager, and possessing nothing worthy of love—so that you seem to me to have felt toward us the same thing that iron feels toward the magnet. For you hang upon me, and you hang upon one another, joined in a mutual bond, and all of you hang upon God, from whom are all things, and to whom are all things. O admirable chain, which the Holy Spirit binds fast, compacted and fitted together with unbreakable bonds! B Indeed, I can suspect no cause for this, for I do not in any way excel others in wisdom, as far as I am conscious of myself—unless one might reckon this very thing as wisdom in me, namely, the understanding that I am not wise, nor even close to that true and primary wisdom; a thing which the wise men of this day are very far from assuming regarding themselves, since it is very easy to deceive oneself and to think that one is something when one is nothing, being puffed up by empty conceit. Nor was I the first among you to preach the doctrine of orthodoxy, which you hold to most firmly; rather, I have followed the footsteps of others—and indeed, yours (for I shall speak the truth)—for you are the disciples of that C excellent Alexander, who was a great champion and herald of the Trinity, and who, by word and by deed, drove impiety into exile. For you have not forgotten that apostolic prayer, which crushed the leader of impiety in a place worthy of the filthiness of his tongue, so that, in a manner of speaking, insult might avenge insult, and an unjust death of souls might be punished by a just death to eternal infamy.
D II. Therefore, we have not broken open for you a new fountain, just as Moses displayed one in a dry place to those fleeing from Egypt; rather, we have opened one that was hidden and obstructed, just as the servants of Isaac the great once did, not only by digging wells of living water, but also by clearing out those which the Philistines had stopped up. But I am not a witty or agreeable speaker, and thus—
A and one who is capable of stealing favor with flattery—as I see many of those who now profess the priestly office doing. They have rendered our simple and artless piety into something artificial, and have introduced a new kind of politics, transferred from the marketplace to the holy places, and from the theaters to the sanctuary, which should not be seen by the eyes of the multitude; so that there are now, if one might dare to say it, two stages, differing as much from each other as that which is open to all and that which is for a few; or as that which is mocked and that which is held in honor; or as that which is called theatrical and that which is called spiritual. You are witnesses, and God also, as the divine Apostle says, that we are not of this party, but are such that we would sooner receive a charge of stubbornness and rusticity than of flattery and slavishness; for we are sometimes and at times harsh even to those who are most devoted to us, if they seem to us to be doing something not in accordance with reason. And this was made clear by the recent innovation you made regarding me, when you, the people, aglow with zeal and anger, placed me, crying out and lamenting, upon this throne—which I do not know whether to call tyrannical or episcopal; you placed me there, however, violating the law out of the force of your love for me. At that time, we were so displeased with some of those who were more fervent that, their love being turned to hatred, they at once withdrew from us. For we regard not so much the favor of men as their utility.
III. C What, then, is the cause of such desire and zeal toward us and our discourses? Do you wish to explain and bring this into the open yourselves, and to declare the feeling of your own minds, or would you rather have us declare this, just as you are not unwilling to use us as expositors in other matters? For my part, I have no doubt that you are imposing this task of speaking upon me, as much as one may judge from your silence. Listen, then, and consider whether I am a poor guesser of such things. First, because you yourselves summoned us, you seem to want to bring aid and support to your own judgment, and to cherish these as your own prize. For it is naturally fashioned in this way: that everyone favors his own—be it property, or children, or words—and leans with spontaneous benevolence toward one's own offspring. Second, because you are moved by nothing so much as by the fact that you see we are not rash and importunate, nor violent, nor composed for the ostentation of theaters and public festivals, but are modest and submissive, and, in the midst of the crowd and society of men, as if removed from contact with men and singular, and, to speak more briefly still, D that you see us to be philosophers. We do not hide ourselves so that we might be sought out, nor so that we might appear worthy of greater honor, just as those who…
A I mean a philosophy that is not cunningly devised or contrived with political artifice, but one that is practiced and observed in a simple and spiritual manner. For we do not seek out hidden retreats in order that we might be sought after, nor that we might appear worthy of more distinguished honor, as do those who display certain extraordinary forms for a moment only to withdraw them immediately from sight; rather, we do so that, through a quiet mode of life removed from the public eye, we might make it plain that we abhor ecclesiastical prefectures and neither desire nor covet such honors. Third, since you see the trials we suffer from both those who wage war against us from without and those who plot against us from within—for, according to Daniel, "iniquity has gone forth from the elders of Babylon" who were thought to judge Israel—it seems that you are indeed aggrieved and distressed, and find no way to bring aid to one who is being treated tyrannically, so that you bring forth only pity instead of everything else. This compassion, tempered by reverence, became a bond of affection. And this, I believe, is the secret mystery of the honor shown me.
B IV. But since we are warred against for no other reason than our eloquence, and this superfluous and invidious tongue—which, having been trained in secular learning, we later ennobled with divine matters, and rendered sweet the bitter and undrinkable Marah by the wood of life—you have certainly conceived an affection worthy of noble and generous minds: you love that for which we are attacked. Why, indeed, did we not embrace a silent education? Why not one that is dry and creeps along the ground? Why, when we saw the majority taking pleasure in such things, did we apply ourselves to strange and foreign studies and stand against opposing tongues? Whereas, on the contrary, it would have been appropriate to boldly shun reasonings and bestow the name of "faith" upon ignorance—which I myself, believe me, would have embraced, like a fisherman (since this is readily available to many as an excuse for ignorance), had I possessed the power of signs and wonders in place of discourse and doctrine. Would that envy might perish from human life, this rot of the envious, this poison [of those] who are plagued by it, alone of all passions at once most unjust and most just: the former, because it is hostile to all good men; the latter, because it consumes those who labor under this vice. I will not imprecate any evil upon those who were the first to praise us, for they did not realize what the end of such praises would be. For otherwise, they might have added something of reproach as well, so as to suppress the envy.
C V. This it was that darkened Lucifer, who fell because of the pride of his mind; for he deemed it unworthy and intolerable that he, being divine, should not also be considered God. It also cast Adam out of paradise, he having been deceived by pleasure and a woman. For he was persuaded that he was being envied the status of a god, being for a time restricted from the tree of knowledge. D This it was, furthermore, that led Cain to fratricide.
A because he could not bear with an even mind that his brother's sacrifice was purer and more holy. This, too, covered with water the world that was behaving itself unholily and disorderly, and overwhelmed the Sodomites with fire. This cast Dathan and Abiron into the earth when they raged against Moses, and struck Miriam with leprosy because she had merely murmured against her brother. This stained the earth with the blood of the prophets, and struck down that wisest of men, Solomon, through women. This made Judas—that man worthy of the noose, lured by a small sum of money—a traitor, and made Herod the slayer of children, and Pilate the slayer of Christ. This sifted and scattered Israel, which even now has not yet emerged from its sin. This, too, stirred up against us the apostate tyrant, whose embers still cause distress, even if we have escaped the flame. This rent asunder the glorious body of the Church, dividing it into diverse and contrary factions. This stirred up against us that Jeroboam B, the slave of sin, and places a shackle upon the tongue; for it cannot bear the Trinity shining brightly and glowing with full divinity, or that those who sincerely preach it are rendered dear to you. Do we seem to you to be babbling and talking nonsense in conjecturing these things? Or has our discourse, with the brush of reason, painted the causes of your love for me in an extremely excellent manner? As for these matters, this is what I think.
VI. But since I see that some are distressed at the insults heaped upon us, and consider our dishonor to be their own calamity, come, let us discuss this briefly as well. For if I were thinking of anything human or base, or aspiring after this chair, or had come here for the first time in this hoary old age C, and with these limbs—both wrinkled and contracted by length of life and by disease—or if I were now bearing these indignities because of such a quest, I would indeed be ashamed before heaven and earth (as was the custom for the ancients to call upon as witnesses). I would be ashamed, too, of this chair, and of this sacred council, and of this holy and newly-assembled people, against whom so many hosts of wicked men have drawn up their battle lines, so that they might be dissolved before they are united, and extinguished before they come to the light, even as they are now beginning to be formed according to Christ. I would be ashamed of my own labors and toils, D and of this rough garment, and of the seclusion and solitude which we have always held dear, and of a life of ease, and of an unassuming table, which is but little inferior to the birds, providing for itself with seeds, legumes, and whatever food is available. Let some at least tell the truth about us, that for your sake...
A we have desired an alien wife, we who have not even wished to have one of our own. Let the Gibeonites even be better than us, whom the Holy Spirit does not deign to admit even to such a task as carrying wood and water, so long as they approach the sacred things with such stains of life and word. But if we have come to argue for the Word, and to contribute what we can to the widow and for the time being husbandless Church, like certain guardians and trustees, to betroth her to another, one who might appear worthy of her beauty, and might offer the Queen greater dowries of virtue: what then? Are we to be praised for our zeal, or blamed for our suspicion? For we are judged by the passions of others. Just as you, my excellent friend, if we had stretched out a hand to a ship B tossed by a storm, or to a besieged city, or to a house being consumed by the intensity of the flames—by helping with boats, or armies, or apparatus suited for extinguishing fire—you would certainly have called us either pirates, or lovers of the city or the house, but not protectors and guardians.
VII. But it does not seem so, you say, to the many. And what does it matter to me, who care more for the truth of the matter, or rather, who care for it alone? For this will either condemn me or acquit me; it will have made me miserable or blessed. As for what "seems" to them, it is nothing to us, just as another man’s dream is not. It does not seem so to the many, you say, O man. But does the earth seem to those suffering from vertigo to be standing still? Or to the drunk do the sober seem of sound mind, and not rather that they are walking on their heads, or spinning round and round? And is not honey bitter to some at times, namely to those laboring under disease, or otherwise badly affected? C But for that reason, things are not as those who are so affected imagine. Show me, then, that those who believe such things about us are healthy, and then admonish us to adopt a better frame of mind; or condemn us, if we do not obey your counsel but persist in the same opinion. I do not seem so to the many, but it is so to God; and I do not merely "seem," but I have been made manifest to Him who knows all things before their birth, to Him who fashions our hearts individually, D to Him who understands all our deeds, the movements and the thoughts with which our actions are performed, from whom nothing that exists is hidden, nor can it be hidden, who looks upon our affairs differently than how men look upon them. For man looks to the face, but...
God looks to the heart A. You have heard the Scripture saying this; therefore, have faith. His judgment is to be valued by sensible men, and to be cared for more than the judgments of all others combined. But you, if you were using two men as counselors for the same matter—the one sharper and more sagacious, the other more unskilled and duller—would you not be judged to be of unsound mind if you passed over the wiser man and followed the more ignorant one? For neither was Rehoboam praised for having dishonored the counsel of the elders, and instead establishing that of the younger men. When God and men are compared, will you value the judgments of men more than those of God? You certainly will not do so, if you listen to me and think rightly.
VIII. But, you say, we are ashamed B of your insults. But I, for my part, am ashamed for you, for you ought to be ashamed for that reason. For if we are suffering these things justly, it is we who should be ashamed for our own sake, rather than you on our account; not because we are despised, but because we show ourselves worthy of contempt and ignominy. But if we suffer unjustly, the charge belongs to those who offer the insult; and therefore, you should be indignant and offended on their behalf rather than on ours, seeing that they are the ones who are faring badly. And if you thought me an excellent man when I was wicked, what was I to do? Ought I to have become more wicked, so as to please you more? I certainly would never have counseled myself to do that. In the same way, neither will I cease from the right way of living because of you, if you suspect that I who am walking rightly and with virtue am offending and slipping. C For I do not live for you more than for myself; and I have as a counselor for all things the Word, and the righteous ordinances of God, by which I am often convicted even when no one accuses me, and again, I am acquitted even when many condemn me. And this is the one tribunal that no one can escape—the internal one, situated within us—and having this alone before our eyes, we must hold to the straight path of life. As for the reputation men have of us, we are so disposed in our mind that if it happens to be favorable, we would not unwillingly accept it, to speak somewhat as a human; but if it happens to fall into the contrary, we shall bid it farewell, and we will take nothing away from the truth of the matter for the sake of human opinion.
IX. For it is thus established D: he who zealously pursues what is honest for the sake of something else has certainly not struck firm roots in virtue. For as soon as that thing has passed away, he will also lay aside his pursuit of the right, just as one who sails for the sake of gain will cease sailing if there is no profit at hand. But he who cultivates and embraces the good itself for its own sake, because he loves a fixed and stable thing, also has a firm and constant readiness of mind toward it; so much so that, experiencing something divine, he is able to use these words of God: *I am the same, and I am not changed* Malach. III, 6. Therefore, he will not depart from his own mind, nor will he be changed, nor will he be moved along with the times and affairs, becoming now one sort of person and now another, and taking on many colors—just like the octopuses of the rocks, which take on the color of whatever they touch; he will remain
however, always the same and like himself, fixed in things that are by no means fixed, motionless amid things A that are uncertain and inconstant, not otherwise, I think, than a cliff against the impact of winds and waves, neither shaken nor worn away by the things that dash against it. So much for this; for I have no leisure to contend with tongues, and perhaps I have said more than is fitting.
X. Now my discourse turns to you, O my flock. "Be to me," says Paul, "my glory, and joy, and crown of boasting"; be you an apology to those who judge me, so that, just as those who practice the arts of building or painting, when B asked for an account, it suffices for them, once they have shown the work built or painted, to be rid of the matter (for the work, he says, is stronger than speech), so too I, by presenting you, may overcome the slanders of my detractors. But how shall I overcome them? First, if you keep the confession concerning the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit firm and steadfast, adding nothing, taking nothing away, and in no way diminishing the one Deity (for that which is diminished is a diminution of the whole); and if you banish those who think or speak otherwise, or who dissolve the Unity by degrees of natures and various measures, regarding them as a blight upon the Church and a virus of the truth C—not hating them, but pitying them for their fall. Second, if you provide a life consistent with the true teaching, so that you are well-skilled in virtue, rather than failing in one part while having the other.
XI. Emperors, revere the purple; for our discourse shall lay down laws even for the lawmakers. Know how great is that which has been entrusted to you, and what a great mystery surrounds you. The whole world is under your hand, held in check by a small diadem and a D meager cloth. The things above belong to God alone; but the things below are yours as well. Show yourselves as gods to your subjects, if I may say something still bolder. "The heart of the king is in the hand of God," as we hear from Scripture, and as we believe. Let this be your power, and not gold and phalanxes. You who are around the palaces and the thrones, do not be overly puffed up by your powers, nor think mortal things to be immortal. Remain faithful to the emperors, but first to God, for whose sake you have been entrusted to them and committed to them. You who boast of your lineage, ennoble your character; or I shall speak something unpleasant, perhaps, but noble and generous. For your order would be truly most noble if ignoble men were not inscribed in your records.
XII. You wise men, and philosophers, and you venerable for your beard and cloak, and you sophists and grammarians, and capturers of public applause, I know not by what means you can be called wise, when you lack the primary discourse and doctrine. B You who are zealous for riches, hear the Prophet saying: *If riches flow, do not set your heart upon them*: know that you are leaning and relying upon an uncertain and fragile thing. Lighten the ship a little, so that you may sail more lightly. Perhaps you might snatch something from an enemy, to whom your own faculties will devolve. You who indulge in delights, subtract something from your genius and belly, and give it to the spirit. The poor man is near; succor his disease; belch forth and vomit upon him something of those things which are redundant to you. Why is each of you oppressed, you by indigestion, he by hunger? You by drunkenness, he by dropsy? You weighing down satiety with satiety, and he reeling with disease? Do not despise your Lazarus here, lest he himself make you like that rich man in the age to come. C You citizens of the great city, who are the first immediately after the first, or not even granting that to it, show yourselves to me to be first, not in wickedness, but in virtue; not in the dissolution of morals and softness, but in excellent laws. For it would be base if this city should so surpass other cities, yet yield to pleasures; or if it be grave and moderate in other things, but so insane regarding circensian games, and spectacles, and races, and huntings, that it holds these as its life and as if it were a serious institution, and that D a city holding the primacy among cities should be a city of players, when it was much more equitable and fitting for it to provide to others as well examples of all virtues. Would that you might cast these things away; would that you might be a city of God, and be depicted in the hands of the Lord, and at last stand splendidly with us, splendid before the great Founder of cities! I bring this joyful message to you, in Christ our Lord himself: to whom be glory, honor, and empire unto the ages. Amen.
MONITION ON ORATION XXXVII
I. This is the only oration or homily of Gregory upon an evangelical text. The learned have conjectured that it is in no way likely that the Theologian committed only this one to writing, out of so many sermons for the familiar instruction of the people. Indeed, Tillemont believes there is no doubt that more orations of this kind were delivered by Gregory. This one, too, concerning which we are treating, seems to him to be as it were a certain series or continuation of a certain