ON THE PRAISES OF SAINT PAUL THE APOSTLE. HOMILY I.
A It would not be a mistake to call the soul of Paul a meadow of virtues and a spiritual paradise; so greatly did it bloom with grace, and so worthy was the philosophy of his soul, as it showed itself to be, of that grace. For since he became a chosen vessel, and had well purified himself, the gift of the Holy Spirit was poured out upon him in abundance. Whence also he produced for us marvelous rivers—not merely four, after the pattern of the fountain of paradise, but many more flowing every single day, not watering the earth, but stirring up the souls of men to the bearing of the fruit of virtue. Who, then, will be sufficient in word for his achievements? Or what tongue will be able to reach the praises of that man? For when one soul possesses all things good that are in men, and all of them in superabundance, and not only those of men but also those of the angels, how shall we prevail over the magnitude of such praises? Yet we shall not be silent for this reason, but for this very reason we shall speak all the more. For even this is a greatest form of praise: to overcome the greatness of his achievements with every abundance of speech—and even the defeat in this case is for us a more brilliant victory than ten thousand trophies. B Whence, then, would it be fitting to take hold of these praises? From whence else, if not first of all from this very point: showing that he possessed the good things of all men? For whether prophets showed forth something noble, or patriarchs, or just men, or apostles, or martyrs, he, having gathered together all these things in one, possessed them with such superabundance as none of those others possessed the good that each of them held.
Consider this: Abel offered a sacrifice, and by this he is proclaimed; but if you bring the sacrifice of Paul into the midst, it is shown to be as much better than that one as heaven is better than the earth. What kind, then, do you wish me to speak of? For there is not only one. For he put himself to death every single day, and he again made this offering double: this on the one hand by dying daily, and that on the other by carrying his mortification in his body. For he was constantly set in array against dangers, and he was being slain by his own resolve; and he so mortified the nature of the flesh that he was in no way inferior to the sacrificial victims, but even far greater. For he did not offer bulls and sheep, but he offered himself, slain doubly every single day. Wherefore he also was bold to say, *For I am already being poured out as a drink offering* (2 Tim. 4:6), calling his blood his own offering.
C Nor was he satisfied with these sacrifices, but since he had well consecrated himself, he also offered the whole world; and land and sea, and Greece and barbarian lands, and absolutely as much of the earth as the sun beholds—this, having become as one winged, he traveled over entirely, not simply journeying, but plucking up the thorns of sins and scattering the word of piety; driving away error, bringing back the truth, making angels out of men, or rather, making men out of demons into angels. Wherefore, also, being about to depart after his many labors and these frequent trophies, comforting his disciples, he said: *But even if I am being poured out upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and congratulate you all; for this reason, you also rejoice and congratulate me* (Philipp. 2:17-18). What, then, could be equal to this sacrifice, which he offered after drawing the sword of the Spirit, which he brought to the altar that is above the heavens?
D But, it is said, Abel was slaughtered, being betrayed by Cain, and by this he became more brilliant? But I have numbered for you ten thousand deaths, and as many as the days he lived while preaching, this blessed man. And if you wish to learn of the slaughter that proceeded even to the point of suffering itself: that one fell by the hand of a brother neither wronged by him nor benefited by him; but this man was being slaughtered by those whom he was hastening to rescue from ten thousand evils, and for whose sake he suffered all that he suffered. Or was Noe a just man, perfect in his generation, and the only one in all the world who was such? Paul also was the only one in all the world who was such. And that man saved only himself together with his children; this man, when the world was overtaken by a much more grievous flood, not by joining together planks and making an ark, but by composing his epistles in place of planks, snatched not two or three or five kinsmen, but the whole world, which was about to be submerged, from the midst of the waves. Nor was his ark of such a kind as to be carried in a single place, but it encompassed the ends of the world, and from that time even until now he brings all into this ark. For having constructed it commensurate with the multitude of the saved, receiving those more senseless than irrational animals, he works them to be rivals of the powers above, and in this he overcomes that ark of old. For that one, having received a raven, sent out a raven again, and having taken in a wolf, it did not change its wild nature; but this man not so, but having taken wolves, he worked them into sheep, and having taken hawks and jackals, he returned them as doves.
And having cast out all unreasonableness and ferocity of human nature, he introduced the gentleness of the Spirit, and this ark continues sailing even to this day, and is not dissolved, nor can any storm of malice loosen its planks. Nay, rather, it has calmed the very motions of the storm by sailing through it, which is A very reasonably accomplished. For its planks are not joined with bitumen or pitch, but are anointed by the Holy Spirit.
But all men marvel at Abraham, because when he heard, "Go from your land and from your kindred" (Gen. xii. 1), he left behind both country and house, and friends and kinsmen, and gave up all these for the command of God. And indeed we also marvel at this. But what could be equal to Paul? Who not only left country, house, and kinsmen, but left the world itself; nay, he even looked down upon heaven and the heaven of heavens, and these things all for the sake of Christ, seeking one thing for all, that is, the love of Christ. And listen to him declaring this and saying: "Neither things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, [479] shall be able to separate us from the love of God" (Rom. viii. 38, 39). Yet that man, exposing himself to danger, rescued his brother’s son from the barbarians; but this man did not rescue a kinsman, nor three or five cities merely, but the whole world from the very hand of the demons, enduring countless dangers every day, and gaining great security for others with his own deaths. But B the crowning point of good things and the summit of philosophy is to have sacrificed a son; but here too we shall find Paul holding the first place, who, as I have said, sacrificed not a son, but himself a thousand times over. In Isaac, one might marvel at many things, and especially at his patience: that when he was digging wells and driven by his own people, he did not resist, but allowed the wells made by him to be filled up, and always moved to another place. Nor did he attack the others with a gathered band of his own, but yielded his own possession everywhere until he had satisfied their most wicked desire. But Paul, seeing not wells being filled with stones, but his own body, not only yielded as he did, but also sought to raise up to heaven those by whom he was being stoned. For the more this spring was covered over, the more it gushed forth, and flowing, poured out more rivers from itself.
The Scripture admires the son of Jacob for his long-suffering and virtue. And what sort of mind is so absolutely adamantine as to be able to imitate the patience of Paul? For he endured the servitude not for fourteen years, but for his whole life for the bride of Christ, not only scorched by the heat of the day and [the cold] of the night, but C suffering a thousand trials: now receiving lashes, now being torn and bruised by stones, and now struggling with beasts, and now with waves; and now resisting excessive and constant hunger by day and night, and everywhere leaping forth in the contests.
But Joseph, too, is adorned with the virtue of purity (Gen. xxxix); yet I fear that it would now be ridiculous to want to praise Paul from this, who, having crucified himself to the world (Gal. vi), beheld not only human bodies, but all things, as we look down upon ash and cinder; who, as if dead, remained motionless toward the dead, and with such care of the soul suppressed the incitements of the passions and of nature that he suffered nothing human.
But Job is compared with Paul. All men surely marvel at Job, and very reasonably. For he is a marvelous athlete, and one who might well be set against Paul for his patience, for the purity of his life, for the testimony of God, because of that fiercest battle with the devil, and because of the victory which followed the battle; but Paul remained in the struggle not for months, but for many years, and shone forth as so glorious, not scraping away the corruption of the flesh from the dust of the earth, but frequently encountering the very mouth of the intelligible lion, and fighting against countless temptations, he was more solid than any stone; he who endured reproaches not from three or four friends, but from all the unbelieving, and even from false brethren, spat upon by all, and cursed. D But his hospitality was great, and his care for the poor; and we do not deny this, but we teach that Paul’s was superior in generosity, and as much inferior as the soul is lower than the body. For the care he spent on those weak in the flesh, this man exhibited toward those sick in soul, now directing those limping in the senses of their mind into the path of the right way, now clothing those deformed by nakedness with the stole of heavenly philosophy. Even in physical benefits he surpassed him as much as it is greater to bring relief to one living in hunger and want than to provide the same from an abundance of riches. For the house of the former was opened to every comer, but the soul of the latter was open to the whole world, and received the peoples of the faithful in the hospitality of a benign mind, saying: "You are not restricted in us, but are restricted in your own affections" (II Cor. vi. 12). And he, indeed, while having countless sheep and cattle, was generous to the poor; but this man, possessing nothing beyond his own body, ministered to the needy sufficiently from this very thing; which he himself commemorates somewhere, saying: "These hands ministered to my necessities, and to those who were with me" (Acts xx. 34), and he allotted the proceeds of his bodily labor to those who were hungry. But worms, to be sure, and wounds brought severe and intolerable pains to the holy Job; and I confess it; but if you consider the scourgings over so many years of Paul, and the hunger along with constant nakedness, the chains, the prison, the snares, the dangers which he suffered from kinsmen, from strangers, from tyrants, and finally from the whole world: and if you add to these things surely more bitter than these, that is, the griefs for those who were falling, the anxiety, the burning which he endured for all the Churches, the burning which he suffered for each one of the scandalized, you will see that he was more [solid] than any rock.
[...suffering, you see how much firmer than stone was the soul that endured these things, and how it overcame iron and adamant. For the things which he suffered in his body, these the other suffered in his soul; and the despair of each one of those who were being scandalized gnawed at his soul more painfully than any worm. Hence he shed constant fountains of tears, not by day only, but also by night, and he was being torn apart for each one of them more bitterly than any woman in labor. Wherefore he also said: *My little children, of whom I travail in birth again* (Gal. 4: 19). Who after Job could anyone wonder at? Moses, of course. But he [Paul] surpassed even him by a great margin; for great indeed were the other things about him, but the crowning point and the climax of that holy soul was this: that he chose to be blotted out of the book of God for the sake of the salvation of the Jews. A Yet the one chose to perish together with the others; but Paul did not choose to perish with them, but rather, while others were being saved, he himself [was willing] to fall from the infinite glory. And the one wrestled with Pharaoh, the other with the devil daily [481]; and the one labored for the sake of one nation, the other for the sake of the entire world, not with sweat, but with blood flowing from every part instead of sweat, correcting not only the inhabited world, but also the uninhabited, not only the Greek world, but also B the barbarian.
One could also bring into the middle [of this discussion] Jesus, son of Nave, and Samuel, and the other prophets; but so that we might not make the discourse too long, let us proceed to their leaders; for when he appears better than these, no doubt remains regarding the others. Who then are the leaders? And who are there after them, if not David, and Elias, and John? Of whom the one is the forerunner of the first, the other of the second coming of the Lord; C wherefore they even shared the same title with one another. What, then, is the exceptional quality of David? Humility and love toward God. And who has accomplished both of these more, or who less than the soul of Paul? And what is the wonderful thing about Elias? Is it that he closed the heavens, and brought about a famine, and brought down fire? I do not think so; but that he was zealous for the Master, and was more vehement than fire. D But if you look at the zeal of Paul, you will see it prevailing to such an extent, as much as he [Elias] surpassed the other prophets. For what could be equal to those words, which he said while being zealous for the glory of the Master, [saying] that *I could wish that I were accursed for the sake of my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh* (Rom. 9: 3)? Because of this, with the heavens set before him, and the crowns and the prizes, he was delaying and lingering, saying: *To remain in the flesh is more necessary for your sake* (Phil. 1: 24). For this reason, he did not consider 478 this visible creation, nor even the intelligible one, sufficient to represent his love and zeal, but he sought another, which is not, to manifest what he wanted and desired. But did John eat locusts and wild honey? But this man spent his time in the middle of the world, just as that one did in the desert, not eating locusts and wild honey, but setting out a meal much more trivial than this, and not even having enough necessary food because of his eagerness for the preaching. But did this man show great boldness before Herod? But this man shut the mouths of, not two or three, but thousands according to him, or rather, even of many much more severe than that tyrant.
It remains to examine him against the angels; wherefore, leaving the earth, let us ascend to the arches of the heavens; but let no one condemn the boldness of my discourse. For if the Scripture called even John an angel, and the priests, what is the wonder if we compare the one who is better than all to those powers? What then is the great thing about them? That they obey God with all precision; which even David, being struck with wonder, said: *Mighty in strength, doing His word* (Ps. 102: 20). For there is nothing equal to this, even if they are ten thousand times incorporeal; for this is what makes them most blessed, that [482] they obey the commands, that they nowhere disobey. This, therefore, can be seen preserved with precision also by Paul; for he did not only do His word, but also the commands, and [was] above the commands, and manifesting this he said: *What is my reward then? That when I preach the gospel, I may make the gospel of Christ without charge* (1 Cor. 9: 18). What other thing wondering at them did the prophet say? *Who makes his angels spirits*, he says, *and his ministers a flaming fire* (Ps. 103: 4)? But this also can be seen in Paul; for just as spirit and fire, so he traversed the entire world, and purified the earth. But has he not yet attained heaven? The wonderful thing is this, that he was such [a person] on earth, and while clothed in a mortal body, he vied with the incorporeal powers. Of how much condemnation, therefore, should we be worthy, when one man having gathered all good things to himself, we do not strive to imitate him even in the smallest part? Having considered these things, therefore, let us rid ourselves of [this] charge, and let us strive to come to his zeal, that we might be able to attain the same good things, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.
HOMILY II. ON THE HOLY APOSTLE PAUL.
What man is, and how great is the nobility of our nature, and how much virtue this animal is capable of, he showed...
A by standing even now, by the bright voice of the facts themselves, responding to all who declaim against our constitution on behalf of the Master, and exhorting us to virtue, and stopping the most impudent mouths of the blasphemers; showing, too, that between angels and men there is no great distance, if we are willing to attend to ourselves. For, having obtained no different nature, nor having shared in a different soul, nor inhabiting a different world, but nourished and having grown up on the same earth and region and under the same laws, he surpassed in virtue all humans who have been or are. Where, then, are those who say that virtue is difficult and vice easy? For he refutes them, saying: "For the present light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory" (2 Cor. iv, 17). If such afflictions are found to be light, how much more those which are the local B pleasures of this life?
And this is not the only amazing thing about him, that because of the abundance of his zeal he did not even feel the toils undergone for virtue, but that he did not even accept virtue for the sake of a reward. For we, indeed, do not struggle for it even with a reward proposed, whereas he embraced it and loved it even without a reward, suffering with all magnanimity all things that seem to hinder it. He complained of neither bodily weakness, nor the press of affairs, nor the tyranny of nature, nor anything else at all; though a greater charge was committed to his care than to all the commanders and kings of the earth. But he waxed greater and rose up with more ardor every day, and as dangers were brought against him, he possessed a fresh alacrity, and signified this, saying: "Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before" (Phil. iii, 13). And when death was expected, he called others to fellowship in this pleasure, saying: "Rejoice, and congratulate me" (Phil. ii, 18). And when dangers, insults, and reproaches were proposed, he leaped with joy again, and writing to the Corinthians, he said: "Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in persecutions" (2 Cor. xii, 10); saying that these things were the armor of righteousness, showing that from this he reaped the greatest fruit. Therefore, when he was in the midst of the enemies' traps, he was nevertheless celebrating, carrying away victories from every assault, and everywhere being struck with blows and suffering injuries and insults, he was—as if conducting a triumphal procession and setting up frequent trophies—boasting and giving thanks to God, saying: "Now thanks be unto God, which always leadeth us in triumph."
C And he also inverted the order of things—or rather, we have inverted it; he, however, was guarded in the way that God had ordained him. Truly, all those things which a man would choose, he considered to be the opposite, and those things which he fled, he judged to be contrary. For Paul, being a man, ran to the former rather than to the latter. For one thing alone was fearful and to be dreaded by him, namely, to offend God, and nothing else at all. Therefore, nothing else was desirable to him, except to please God always. And do not tell me of cities and nations, and kings, and armies, and arms, and money, and satrapies and powers—he did not even think these things were spiderwebs; but place there the very things that are promised in heaven, and then you will see his vehement love for Christ. For because of that love, he admired neither the dignity of angels, nor of archangels, nor anything else of that kind. For that which was greater than all things, he possessed within himself, the love of Christ; and with this he deemed himself happier than all. And without this, he did not desire to be in the company of even dominions and powers and authorities, D but with this love he preferred rather to be in the lowest place—indeed, even among the ranks of the punished—than to be among the highest and most honorable without it. This was his greatest and unique torment: to fall short of this love. This was his Gehenna, this his only punishment, these his infinite and intolerable torments. Just as to enjoy this love of Christ—this seemed to him life, this world, this angel, this presence, this future, this kingdom, this promise, this the ten thousand good things. He accounted nothing of those things that are not such to be here either painful or pleasant. For of those things that are seen, he thought nothing to be harsh, nor even sweet; he so despised all things visible as one typically disdains grass that is being trampled. But he thought tyrants themselves and the mobs breathing fury were like gnats. But death and tortures and a thousand punishments he thought were children's toys, provided that he were suffering something for Christ. For then he embraced them willingly, and was more adorned while bound in a chain than Nero crowned with a diadem. For living in the narrowness of a prison, he lived in heaven, and he accepted blows and wounds more readily than others snatch up trophies. And he loved pains no less than rewards, since he considered the very pains to be rewards, and for this reason he even gave them a name of grace. Observe: it was a reward "to depart and to be with Christ" (Phil. i, 23, 24); but to remain in the flesh was a struggle. Yet, because of the desire for Christ, he deferred the rewards, and judged that contest to be more necessary. But on the other hand, to be anathema from Christ was a struggle and a pain—or rather, it was something above a struggle and above all pain. But to be with Christ was a singular reward; yet Paul, because of Christ, preferred to choose the latter. But perhaps someone might say that he said all these things were sweet because of Christ. This is perfectly true, even he himself...
A confessed it; for the things that to us are causes of sadness brought him the greatest pleasure. And why do I mention dangers and other hardships? For he was in constant sorrow; hence he said: "Who is infirm, and I am not infirm? who is scandalized, and I am not on fire?" (2 Cor. 11.29). Yet, even if one were to say that he possessed pleasure in his sorrow. For many, even of those who have lost children, are comforted when they are permitted to mourn; but when they are prevented, they grieve; just as Paul, weeping night and day, was receiving comfort; for no one ever mourned their own evils as he did those of others. For how do you imagine he felt about the Jews not being saved, he who prayed to fall B from the glory above so that they might be saved? From which it is clear that their not being saved was much more grievous. For if it were not more grievous, he would not have prayed for that; for he chose it as being lighter, and as having more comfort; and he did not merely wish it, but even cried out saying: "That I have great sadness, and continuous pain in my heart" (Rom. 9.2). Who, therefore, could compare to the one who, so to speak, was in pain for those inhabiting the world, and for all in general—for nations and cities—and for each one individually? With what iron C, with what diamond? What would one call that soul? Golden, or adamantine? For it was sterner than any diamond, and more precious than gold and precious stones; and it would surpass that material in strength, and this in value. To what, then, could one compare it? To none of those that exist. But if gold were to become diamond, and diamond gold, then it would attain its likeness somehow. But why do I compare it to diamond and gold? Set the whole world against it, and then you will see the soul of Paul drawing it down. For if he says this concerning those who D distinguished themselves in sheepskins and caves and in a small part of the world (Hebr. 11.38), how much more could we say it concerning him, that he was worth more than all. If, therefore, the world is not worthy of him, who is worthy? Perhaps heaven? But even this is small. For if he himself, together with those in the heavens, preferred the love of the Master, much more would the Master, who is as much better than him as goodness is than wickedness, prefer him to ten thousand heavens. For He does not love us as we love Him, but so much more that it cannot even be expressed in words. Consider, then, how many things He deemed him worthy of even before the future resurrection. He caught him up into paradise, He brought him up into the third heaven, and He made him a participant in such unspeakable things as it is not lawful for any who have attained human nature to tell. And quite reasonably; for, walking on earth, he conducted himself as if walking with angels, and bound in a mortal body, he displayed their purity, and being subjected to such necessities, he strove to appear no less than the powers above. For he traversed the world like a winged creature, and as one incorporeal he disregarded toils and dangers, and as one who already held heaven, he despised things on earth; and as one conversant with those incorporeal powers, he was thus continuously vigilant. And yet angels were often entrusted with various nations; but not even one of them was entrusted with a nation in the way Paul was with the entire world. And do not tell me that Paul was not the one managing these things; for I myself agree. For even if he was not the one performing these things, yet he was still not outside the praises for them, since he had so prepared himself as to be worthy of such grace. Michael was entrusted with the nation of the Jews; but Paul was entrusted with land and sea, and the inhabited world, and the uninhabited. And I say this not insulting the angels, far be it, but showing that it is possible for a human being to be with them, and to stand near them. And for what reason were angels not entrusted with these things? So that you might have no excuse for [your own] sloth, nor take refuge in the difference of nature while sleeping; and otherwise, the wonder became greater. For how is it not wonderful and paradoxical that speech springing from a clay tongue should banish death, absolve sins, correct a nature that has been ruined, and make the earth work like heaven? For this reason I am struck by the power of God, for this reason I marvel at the promptness of Paul, that he accepted such grace, that he so prepared himself. And I exhort you not only to marvel, but to imitate this archetype of virtue; for thus shall we be able to partake of the same crowns as him. If you marvel when hearing that, by accomplishing the same things, you will attain the same things, hear him saying these things: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord the just judge will give to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all those who have loved his appearing" (2 Tim. 4.7-8). You see how he calls everyone to the same communion? Since, therefore, the same things are set before all, let us all strive to become worthy of the promised goods; and let us not only look at the magnitude and the weight of the accomplishments, but also at the intensity of the promptness through which he drew to himself such grace, and [take confidence in] the kinship of nature; for he partook of all the same things as us. And thus even things that are very difficult to achieve will appear to us easy and light, and having labored for this short time, that ageless and
labouring at that time, we shall wear that incorruptible and immortal crown, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
ON THE PRAISES OF SAINT PAUL THE APOSTLE
HOMILY III.
A Blessed Paul, who displayed such force of human alacrity that he was able to soar even up to heaven, passing by angels and archangels and other powers, sometimes commands us to become imitators of Christ through his own example, saying: *Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ* (1 Cor. 11:1). At other times, however, keeping silent about himself, he extends us to the imitation of God Himself, saying: *Be therefore imitators of God, as dearly beloved children* (Ephes. 5:1). And now, indeed, demonstrating that nothing produces this imitation so much as if a man lives in such a way that his good redounds to the common benefit and he provides things useful for all, he added: *Walk in love* (Ib. v. 2). Therefore, when he had said, *Be imitators of me*, he immediately discoursed on love, because this virtue especially makes men close to God. For however many other virtues there may be, they occupy a lower place and are all concerned with human strivings, such as the fight against lust, or the war waged against gluttony, or an army arrayed against the ruin of avarice, or a conflict with the fury of wrath; but to love B is common to us and to God. Therefore, Christ also commanded: *Pray for those who slander and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven* (Matt. 5:44, 45). Paul, therefore, understanding that this is the head of all good things, took care to express it in himself with all zeal. For no one has ever so loved his enemies, no one has been so beneficent toward those who plot against him, no one has suffered so much for those who afflicted him. He was not thinking of what he was suffering, but rather of the bond of nature, and the more his enemies were carried away, the more he pitied their madness. For just as a father would be affected toward a son who was seized by frenzy—who, the more he is struck by insults and blows, the more he pities and weeps for him—so he, too, gathering a malady from the very greatness of the passions of those by whom he was afflicted, applied to them greater soothing remedies of piety.
C The love and gentleness of Paul. Hear, therefore, how patiently, how gently he speaks to us on behalf of those who had beaten him five times, who had stoned him, who had bound him, who thirsted for his very blood, and who were daily eager to tear him apart. *I bear witness to them*, he says, *that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge* (Rom. 10:2). And again, restraining those who were puffed up too proudly over them: *Do not*, he says, *become haughty, but fear; for if God did not spare the natural branches, take care lest He might not spare you* (Rom. 11:20, 21). For because he knew that the Lord’s sentence had already gone out against them, he performed the one thing that remained and was in his power: he wept vehemently for them, he grieved, forbade those who wanted to insult them, and, as much as he could, laboured to offer them some shadow of an excuse. And because, on account of their obstinacy and hardness, he could not persuade them to the faith by word, he turned to assiduous prayers. *Brothers*, he says, *the desire of my heart and my supplication to God is for them unto salvation* (Rom. 10:1). He encourages them, too, with a better hope, saying: *For the gifts and the calling of God are without repentance* (Rom. 11:29), that they might not fall from hope and perish. All of which are indeed the words of one who loves, and who provides greatly for their benefits: as when he says, *There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and He shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob* (Isai. 59:20). D For he was bitten vehemently and pierced to the quick when he saw them perishing, for which reason he applied many comforts to this grief, sometimes saying: *There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and He shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob* (Rom. 11:26); at other times, *And they have not believed in your mercy, so that they too may obtain mercy* (Rom. 11:31).
But Jeremiah also does this, using a certain violence and struggling to find some excuse for the delinquents, now saying: *If our sins have stood against us, do Thou it for Thy sake* (Jer. 14:7); and again: *It is not in man his way; neither shall man walk, and direct his steps* (Jerem. 10:23). And again: *Remember that we are dust* (Ps. 102:14). For it is a very celebrated custom indeed that those who intercede for the delinquent, even if they bring forward nothing suitable for a petition, at least oppose for them some shadow of an excuse—not fortified by a strict propriety of words, nor one which can be dragged into dogmas, but one which may yet console those who grieve for the perishing. We should not, therefore, weigh such excuses too scrupulously, but understand that they belong to a grieving soul, which is seeking to say something on behalf of sinners, and that we should judge these things said above according to this mode. Was he, therefore, such only toward the Jews, and not so toward outsiders? In fact, he was most mild both toward those of his own household and toward outsiders. Hear, therefore, what he said to Timothy: *The servant*, he says, *of God must not strive, but be gentle toward all, apt to teach, patient, with modesty correcting those who resist, if at any time God may give them repentance to know the truth, and they may recover themselves from the snares of the devil, by whom they are held captive at his will* (2 Tim. 2:24-26). Do you wish, moreover, to see how modestly he speaks even with those who had fallen into sins? Hear what he said to the Corinthians: *I fear*, he says, *lest perhaps, when I come, I shall not find you such as I wish* (2 Cor.
12. 20); and shortly after, *Lest, when I come again, my God humble me among you, and I shall mourn many of those who have sinned before and have not repented of the uncleanness and fornication and lasciviousness which they have committed* (2 Cor. 12. 21). And writing to the Galatians he said: *My little children, of whom I am in labour again, until Christ be formed in you* (Gal. 4. 19). And as to the cause of him who had committed fornication, hear how, no less than that man, he is pained and exhorts, saying: *Confirm your charity towards him* (2 Cor. 2. 8). But even when he was separating him from the body of the Church, he did it with many tears and sighing. *For out of much tribulation*, he says, *and anguish of heart I wrote to you with many tears, not that you should be grieved, but that you might know the charity which I have more abundantly for you* (Ib. v. 4). And again: *I became to the Jews as a Jew, to them that are under the law as under the law, to them that are weak as weak; I have become all things to all men, that I might save all* (1 Cor. 9. 20-22). And elsewhere again: *That I may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus* (Col. 1. 28). Do you see a soul that surpasses the whole earth? He expected to present every man, and for his own part, he presented all. For just as if he had begotten the whole world himself, so was he troubled, so did he run, so did he strive to bring all into the kingdom, healing, comforting, promising, praying, supplicating, frightening demons, driving away those who corrupt souls, by presence, by letters, by words, by deeds, by disciples, by himself raising up the falling, establishing those who stand, stirring up those who lie on the ground, healing the contrite, anointing the slothful, crying out terribly against the enemies, looking sharply at the adversaries; just like some general or excellent doctor, himself a baggage-carrier, himself an esquire, himself a shield-bearer, himself a helper, himself becoming all things to the camp. And he showed much care and much zeal not only in spiritual matters, but also in carnal ones. Hear then how, for one woman, he writes to a whole people, saying: *I commend to you Phoebe, our sister, who is in the ministry of the church of Cenchreae, that you receive her in the Lord as beseemeth saints, and that you assist her in whatsoever business she shall have need of you* (Rom. 16. 1). And again: *You know the house of Stephanas, that you also submit yourselves to such* (1 Cor. 16. 15 et 16). And again: *Know them that are such* (Ib. v. 18). For this is also a property of the affection of the saints, to help even in these things. Thus also Elisha did not only benefit the woman who received him in spiritual things, but also strove to reward her in carnal things; wherefore he also said: *If thou hast any business with the king, or with the captain?* (4 Reg. 4. 12 sqq.) And why do you marvel if Paul provided recommendation by letters, seeing that even when calling some to himself, he did not deem it unworthy to concern himself with their provisions, and to record it in a letter? For writing to Titus he says: *Send forward Zenas the lawyer and Apollo with care, that nothing be wanting to them* (Tit. 3. 13). But if he was so diligent in sending them forward when he was recommending them, he would have done everything much more had he seen them in danger. See then also, when writing to Philemon, what great zeal he shows regarding Onesimus, and how sagaciously, how affectionately he writes. And he who for one servant—and that one a fugitive, and one who had stolen many of his master's things—did not refuse to compose an entire epistle: consider how great he was toward others. For he thought it worthy of shame to overlook even one thing that needed to be done for salvation. For this reason he stirred everything, and was not reluctant to spend for the sake of those being saved, neither words, nor money, nor body; for he who ten thousand times delivered himself to deaths, would much more not have spared money, had it been available. And what do I say, "had it been available"? For even when it was not available, it is possible to show that he did not spare. And do not think that the saying is a riddle, but hear him again saying: *I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls* (2 Cor. 12. 15). And addressing the Ephesians he said: *You yourselves know that these hands have provided for my necessities, and for those who are with me* (Act. 20. 34). And since he was great in the head of all good things, in charity, he was more vehement than any flame. And as iron having fallen into fire becomes entirely fire, so he too, having been ignited by the fire of charity, became entirely charity; and as being a common father of the whole world, so did he imitate those who had begotten them; nay rather, he excelled all fathers, both in carnal and spiritual cares, bestowing money, and words, and body, and soul, and everything for the sake of those he loved. For this reason he also called it the fulfilling of the law, and the bond of perfection, and the mother of all good things, and the beginning and end of virtue; wherefore he also said: *The end of the commandment is charity from a pure heart and a good conscience* (1 Tim. 1. 5). And again: *For, Thou shalt not commit adultery, thou shalt not kill, and if there be any other commandment, it is summed up in this word, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself* (Rom. 13. 9). Since, therefore, charity is the beginning and the end and all good things, let us also emulate Paul in this; for it was from this that he became such a man. Do not tell me of the dead whom he raised, nor of the lepers whom he cleansed; God will not ask for any of these from you. Acquire the charity of Paul, and you will have the crown perfected. Who says these things? He himself, the nourisher of charity, this man who set it even above signs, and wonders, and thousands of other things. For because he had attained it to a high degree, for this reason he also knows its strength with accuracy. From this he himself became such, and nothing made him so worthy as the power of charity; wherefore he also said: *Be zealous for the better gifts; and I show unto you a more excellent way*, referring to charity, that most beautiful and easy way. Let us therefore also walk this way continuously, that we may see Paul, or rather, the Master of Paul, and [index: entries preserved]
and we may reach those incorruptible crowns, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the power, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
ON THE HOLY APOSTLE PAUL
A Homilia IV. The blessed Paul, who has gathered us together today and who has illuminated the world, was at one time blinded at the time of his calling; but his blindness became an illumination for the whole world. For because he saw badly, God blinded him well, so that he might henceforth see usefully. For at the same time He provided him with a demonstration of His own power, and in his passion He prefigured things to come, and taught the manner of his preaching, namely that it behooved him to cast off his previous ways and to close his eyes and submit himself to Him. Therefore, Paul himself, declaring this, B cries out: "If any one among you thinks himself to be wise, let him become a fool, that he may become wise" (1 Cor. 3:18). By no means, therefore, could he have seen well again, had he not first been blinded; whence, casting aside his own wisdom by which he was disturbed, he committed himself entirely to the faith.
But let no one, hearing these things, think that this calling was a necessity, for he could have returned to where he had departed from. For many, in the New and in the Old Testament, though they had seen greater miracles, turned back again, as we read: such as Judas, or Nebuchadnezzar, or Elymas the sorcerer, or Simon, or Ananias and Sapphira, or the whole people of the Jews; but not so Paul. For with the eye of his mind illuminated, he hastened toward that most sincere light and flew swiftly toward heaven. And if you inquire for what cause he was blinded, hear him speaking: C "You have heard," he says, "of my manner of life in time past in the Jews' religion, how that beyond measure I persecuted the church of God, and wasted it: and profited in the Jews' religion above many my equals in my own nation, being more exceedingly zealous of the traditions of my fathers" (Gal. 1:13–14). For because he was so vehement and fervent, he required also more vehement reins, lest, being seized by the very impetus of the alacrity with which he was borne, he might despise the words brought to him. Therefore, God first suppressed his indomitable fury, and by the benefit of blindness brought his agitated and precipitous waves of wrath into quietude, and then at last He favored him with a heavenly utterance, showing the wisdom that is truly inaccessible, and the goodness of divine knowledge that is above all, so that he might learn against whom he was now warring—whom he could not endure to suffer not only in His punishing, but not even in His conferring benefits. For he was blinded not by the darkness of shadows, but by the excess of light. D And why, you ask, was this not done before? Do not seek this, nor wish to be more curious, but concede to the incomprehensible providence of God to ordain the salvation of men at times known to Himself as opportune. For thus even he himself confessed, saying: "But when it pleased God, who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by His grace, to reveal His Son in me" (Gal. 1:15–16). Do not you, therefore, search any further, when Paul says these things. For this surely needed to be done then, when scandals had already been removed from everywhere. Let us learn, therefore, from him, that no one before Paul, nor Paul himself, found Him only from his own self, but Christ Himself revealed Himself, and therefore He said: "You have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you" (John 15:16).
But how did he not believe before, when he saw the dead rising in His name, the lame walking, the paralytics being strengthened, the demons being driven away? For he obtained no fruit from all these, even though he was not ignorant of these things, who was so curious about the apostles; who certainly stood by when Stephen was being stoned, and saw his face radiating with angelic brightness (Acts 7:57–59). Why, then, did he gain nothing from that? Because he had not yet been called by Christ.
Do not you, hearing this, think that this calling is a necessity. For God does not compel men by calling, but even after the calling He permits them to be masters of their own wills. For He revealed Himself to the Jews when it was fitting, but they, because of the glory which they sought from men, were unwilling to receive Him when He offered Himself voluntarily. But at this point let some one who is more faithless oppose, and say: "Why did He not call me also from heaven?" But how is it manifest, O man, that He called Paul from heaven? But you believe this? Therefore, if you believe, this very thing is enough of a sign for you. But if you do not believe that He called Paul from heaven, how can you say, "Why did He not call me also?" You believe that He called him; this very thing, as I said, suffices you as a sign. Believe, therefore; for God calls you also from heaven, if you have a soul prepared to obey. But if you are disobedient, and of a corrupt and depraved mind, not even a voice sent down to you from heaven is sufficient for your salvation. How many times did the Jews hear a voice borne from heaven, in the New and in the Old Testament, and yet they were not made better because of it? For in the Old, the Jews, after a thousand miracles, worshipped the calf which they had made. But the harlot of Jericho, who had seen absolutely nothing of the miracles, nevertheless showed a wonderful faith in the reception of the spies. In the land of promise also, the Jews, seeing signs, remained harder than stones; but the Ninevites, seeing only Jonah, believed and repented (Jonah 3), and by their conversion warded off the wrath of God.
In the New Testament, however, from the very presence of Christ himself, the thief who saw him being crucified worshipped him; but these men, having seen him raising the dead, both bound him and crucified him.
What of our own time? Was it not through fire leaping forth from the foundations of the temple in Jerusalem that the builders were struck, and thus restrained from their intent, which was lawless at that time? Yet even so they did not change, nor did they put away their hardness of heart. How many other miracles occurred after that time, and yet they gained nothing from them? For instance, the lightning bolt which descended upon the roof of the temple of Apollo; the oracle of that very demon, which compelled the emperor then reigning to remove the martyr lying nearby, saying that he could not speak so long as he looked upon that one’s coffin—for it was lying in the neighborhood. After this, again, the divine one who insulted the sacred vessels suffered a death by being eaten of worms; and the treasurer of the royal funds, on account of another lawlessness committed by him against the Church, was torn down the middle and perished.
Again, the springs among us, which surpass the rivers in their flow, suddenly fled and leaped away, never having suffered this before, until the emperor polluted the place with sacrifices and fanatical zeal. What should one say of the famine which fell upon the cities everywhere in the empire along with the emperor, and the death of the emperor himself in the territory of the Persians; the deception before his death; the army left in the midst of the barbarians, as if in a trap or net; and the return from there, which was marvelous and paradoxical? For since the impious emperor fell miserably, and another who was pious succeeded him, all the evils were immediately dissolved; and the soldiers, who were caught in the midst of the nets and had no exit from any side, once God had finally consented, were delivered from the barbarians and returned with complete security.
What sort of person could these things not draw toward piety? And are the things present not far more marvelous than these? Is it not the cross that is preached, and the whole world runs to it? Is it not an ignominious death that is announced, and all leap toward it? For had not myriads been crucified? And were not two thieves crucified with Christ himself? And were there not many who were wise? And were there not many who were powerful? Whose name ever prevailed in this way? And why do I speak of the wise and powerful; were there not illustrious kings? Who has so mastered the world in so short a time?
And do not speak to me of the various and manifold heresies; for all of them preach the same Christ—even if not all do so soundly—but all worship that one who was crucified in Palestine, the one under Pontius Pilate. A These things, therefore, do not seem to have a clearer proof of his power than that voice which was brought down from heaven? For why did no king prevail as he prevailed, and this despite myriad obstacles? For kings waged war, and tyrants drew up battle lines, and all the people rose up against us, and yet our affairs were not diminished, but became even more brilliant.
Whence, then, tell me, is such great strength? “He was a magician,” one says. Was he the only such magician to arise? You have surely heard that both among the Persians and the Indians many magicians have existed, and still do today; but their name is nowhere. “But,” he says, “the trickster from Tyana, that sorcerer, he too shone forth.” Where and when? B In a small part of the world, and for a short time, and he was quickly extinguished and perished, leaving behind no Church, no people, nor anything else of the sort. And what do I say of magicians and sorcerers who have been extinguished? Whence have the things of the gods all ceased—both the Dodonaean and the Clarian, and all those evil workshops—and are now silent and muzzled? Whence, then, do the demons tremble in fear not only of this crucified one, but of the bones of those who were slaughtered for his sake? And for what reason, even when they hear of the cross, do they flee?
Indeed, one ought to have laughed at it; for is the cross a brilliant and distinguished thing? On the contrary, it is disgraceful and ignominious. For it is the death of one condemned; it is a death that is the ultimate of evils, and among the Jews it is a curse, and among the Gentiles it is abominable. Whence, then, did the demons fear it? Was it not from the power of the crucified one? For if they feared the thing itself in and of itself, that would be unworthy of gods; nevertheless, many were crucified before him and after him—and two were crucified with him. What, then, if one were to say, “In the name of the thief who was crucified,” or of this one or that one, will the demon flee? Not at all; rather, he will even laugh. But if you add “Jesus the Nazarene,” they flee as if from some fire.
What then could you say? Whence did he prevail? Was it because he was a deceiver? But his precepts are not of that sort; otherwise, there have been many deceivers. But because he was a magician? But this is not the case; his doctrines bear witness to it; and a great multitude of magicians has often existed. But because he was wise? But many have often been wise. Who, then, has prevailed in such a way? No one, ever; not even close by a little bit. Whence it is clear that it was not because he was a magician, nor because he was a deceiver, but because he was the corrector of these things, and a certain divine and invincible power—for this reason he himself overcame all, and breathed into this tentmaker such great power as the very events themselves witness. For a man standing in the marketplace, having his trade at leather-working, so much...
A did he philosophize himself and teach others to philosophize—whole nations, and cities, and regions—without showing the power of his words, but rather, on the contrary, being utterly unlearned, and having been born the most ignorant of all? Hear him actually saying, and not being ashamed: "Though I be rude in speech," (II Cor. XI, 6). And he possessed no money; for he himself testifies to this as well: "Even unto this present hour," he says, "we hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted" (I Cor. IV, 11). And why do I speak of money, when he often did not have his necessary food, nor even a garment with which to clothe himself? But that he was not famous from his profession, his disciple shows, saying that he "abode with Aquila and Priscilla, because they were of the same craft; for they were tentmakers" (Acts XVIII, 3). So he was not noble from his ancestors, since he is shown to have been of such a base craft; nor from his country, nor from his nation. Yet, coming into the public eye and appearing for just a moment, he unsettled all things, he confounded all things; and just as if fire had fallen into stubble or hay, he consumed all the works of the demons, and turned all things wherever he wished. And this B is not the only thing worthy of wonder, that he himself, being such, was able to do so many things, but that the majority of those who were discipled—impoverished, unlearned, and insignificant—living in hunger and want, were ignoble and born of the ignoble. And he himself proclaims this, and is not ashamed to mention their poverty, or to beg for their necessary food. "I am setting out," he says, "for Jerusalem, to minister to the saints" (Rom. XV, 25). And again: "Upon the first day of the week, let every one of you lay by him in store, that there be no gatherings when I come" (I Cor. XVI, 2). But that the majority of them consisted of the unlearned, he says, writing to the Corinthians: "See your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called" (I Cor. I, 26). But they were also very obscure and vile. "For God," he says, "chose the base things of the world, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are" (I Cor. I, 28). But perhaps the nobleman and the learned man was a persuasive speaker? Not even that; for he also confirmed this, saying, "And I, when I came to you, did not come with excellency of speech or of wisdom declaring unto you the testimony of God. For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And my speech and my preaching was not in enticing words of man's wisdom" (I Cor. II, 1-4). But was the subject of his preaching perhaps sufficient to draw the hearers to itself? Receive what he himself pronounces even on this matter: "For the Jews," he says, "require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Greeks foolishness" (I Cor. I, 22-23). C But you will say, "He enjoyed security and freedom." Yet he never breathed from perils. "And I," he says, "was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling" (I Cor. II, 3). And not he alone, but also his disciples were subject to sufferings. "Call to remembrance," he says, "the former days, in which, after ye were illuminated, ye endured a great fight of afflictions; partly, whilst ye were made a gazingstock both by reproaches and afflictions; and partly, whilst ye became companions of them that were so used. For ye had compassion of me in my bonds, and took joyfully the spoiling of your goods" (Heb. X, 32-34). And again, writing to the Thessalonians, he says: "For ye also have suffered like things of your own countrymen, even as they have of the Jews: who both killed the Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and have persecuted us; and they please not God, and are contrary to all men" (I Thess. II, 14-15). Writing to the Corinthians again, he says: "As the sufferings of Christ abound in you, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ" (II Cor. I, 5). And to the Galatians: "Have ye suffered so many things in vain? if it be yet in vain" (Gal. III, 4).
A Comparison of the Gospel with War; Why God Permitted Seducers Before Christ
When, therefore, the preacher was unlearned, and also poor, and utterly ignoble, and what was preached was not only empty of recommendation but also full of offense, and the hearers themselves were needy, weak, and altogether null, and dangers so frequent and so varied threatened not only the teachers but also the disciples, and he who is preached to be worshipped was crucified—what is that which his preaching could have achieved? Is it not most clearly evident that this was accomplished by some divine and ineffable power? Which is certainly also able to be clearly proven by a comparison with his enemies. For when you see D all the opposites of these things concurring at once—that is, both wealth, and nobility, and pride of country, and the effectiveness of rhetoric, and the security of peace, and great cultivation in their very superstition—and yet the practice of their impiety was immediately extinguished, while these men from the opposing side prevailed, tell me: what is the cause of this? For it is as if, when some king instructed in arms, relying on an army, and setting up the most powerful battle-lines in war, was unable to conquer the barbarians, someone poor, and naked, and alone, not even wielding a javelin, nor having a garment, were to enter the struggle and perform those things which others could not accomplish even with a thousand fortifications. Do not, therefore, remain in a depraved opinion, but reverence the power of the Crucified. For if you see some king preparing cities for himself, digging trenches, bringing engines to the walls, and having an innumerable multitude of soldiers, gleaming weapons, and infinite wealth, and yet unable to destroy a single city of his enemies; while another, fighting with a naked body and having nothing but his hands, overruns not one, or two, or a few, but absolutely innumerable cities scattered over the whole world, and takes them all, you would surely say that this is of divine power. Thus it is evident that this holds true now as well. For it is for this reason that He allowed.
God to be crucified A along with thieves, and some deceivers to appear before Him, so that even by comparison the excellence of the truth might be shown to those who are extremely insensible, and you might learn that He is not one of them, but that there is a vast and infinite distance between Him and them. For nothing could eclipse His glory—neither the sharing in the same sufferings, nor the fact of coinciding in the same times. For if the demons fear the cross, and not the strength of the Crucified One, the pair of thieves silences the mouths of those who say these things; and if the complexity of the times achieved everything, those who reason about Theudas and Judas, and who attempted these same things with many other signs, and perished, provide the defense. For, as I said, God allowed these things for this reason: so that He might show His own works in abundance. For this reason, He also allowed false prophets to appear in the time of the prophets, and false apostles in the time of the apostles, so that you might learn that nothing is able to eclipse His. Shall I tell you of the strength of the preaching, which is wondrous and paradoxical from another side as well, and shall I show you that it was raised and increased even by those who oppose it? B There were some who opposed Paul, and preached this doctrine in Rome. For wanting to provoke Nero to fight against Paul, they themselves undertook to preach, so that, the word being spread further and the disciples becoming more numerous, the anger of the tyrant would become hotter, and the wild beast would be enraged. And Paul himself wrote this to the Philippians, saying: "I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has served rather to advance the Gospel, so that the majority of the brothers, having become confident in my chains, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. Some indeed preach Christ even from envy and rivalry, but others also from good will. The former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, thinking to afflict me in my chains; the latter out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the Gospel. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed" (Phil. 1:12-18). Do you see how many preached out of selfish ambition? But nevertheless, He prevailed even through those who were contrary. Along with these, there were other things that resisted. C For old laws not only did not help, but actually opposed and fought against it, along with the wickedness and the ignorance of those who slandered it; for they say, "They have a king, Christ." For they did not know His kingdom, that fearful and infinite one, but as if they were introducing a tyranny to the world, so they slandered it, and all collectively, and each one individually, fought against them; collectively, as if the commonwealth were being destroyed and the laws overturned; individually, as if each house were being torn apart and demolished. For even a father fought against a son then, and a son denied his father, and wives their husbands, and husbands their wives, and daughters their mothers, and kinsmen kinsmen, and friends their friends, and this war was manifold and of every kind, crawling into the houses, splitting families, D disturbing the councils, throwing the courts into confusion, as if the ancestral customs were being destroyed, and the festivals and the worship of demons were being undone, which were prized by the lawgivers of old above all other things. And along with these, the suspicion of tyranny caused them to be driven from every side. And no one could say that these things happened among the Greeks but were quiet among the Jews, but even they attacked much more harshly; for they themselves accused them of destroying the commonwealth. "For he does not cease," they say, "speaking blasphemous words against this holy place and the law." But nevertheless, with the fire being kindled from every side—from the houses, from the cities, from the fields, from the wilderness, from the Greeks, from the Jews, from the rulers, from those ruled, from kinsmen, from the earth, from the sea, from those who reigned, and with all provoking one another and attacking more fiercely than any wild beast—this blessed man, jumping into such furnaces, and standing in the midst of wolves, and being pelted from every side, not only was he not buried, but he even brought all of them over to the truth. Shall I tell of other most grievous wars in addition to these? The war of the false apostles—the thing that grieved him most of all—and the war of his own people who were weak; for many who were believed to be believers were corrupted; but he sufficed even for these. Whence and from what strength? "Our weapons," he says, "are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds, destroying arguments and every high thing that is exalted against the knowledge of God" (2 Cor. 10:4-5). For this reason all things were changing, and were being rearranged all at once. And just as when a fire is kindled, the thorns, being consumed little by little, give way and yield to the flame, and make the fields clear; so too, with Paul's tongue speaking and attacking everything more fiercely than fire, all things gave way and yielded—the worship of demons, and festivals, and public gatherings, and ancestral customs, and violations of law, and the rage of the crowds, and the threats of tyrants, and the plots of kin, and the malice of false apostles; or rather, just as when the sun’s ray rises, darkness is driven away, and wild beasts hide and lurk, and thieves flee, and murderers hide themselves in caves, and pirates depart, and tomb-robbers withdraw, and adulterers and thieves and burglars, since they are about to be exposed by the ray, go off somewhere far away and make themselves disappear, and all things become transparent and bright, and earth and sea [are lit up], with the ray shining down from above on everything.
the sea, the mountains, the lands, the cities; and thus, when the preaching shone forth and Paul scattered it everywhere, error was put to flight, and the truth returned. True, the embers and the smoke of the temples, and all the cymbals and the drums, and the drunkenness, and the carousals, and the acts of prostitution and adultery, and other shameful things such as they were accustomed to celebrate in their sacred rites, failed and were consumed, just like wax perishing by the heat of fire, or like chaff that is suddenly burned up in a conflagration. A Yet amidst these things, the brilliant flame of truth arose, shining forth and ascending in its sublimity up to the very heaven, lifted up most of all by the very ones who strove to oppress it, and receiving even more increase through those who desired it to be extinguished. For neither did dangers, nor the impulse force it to halt; neither the tyranny of inveterate custom, nor the authority of ancestral habit, nor the power of laws, nor that very difficulty of guarding the gospel that was being preached, nor anything at all of those things which can offer an impediment, were able to intercept or retard the course of truth as it advanced swiftly. And that you may know how much power this has, threaten the Gentiles—I do not say with dangers, famine, or death, but with some small, slight loss of money—and you will see them immediately changed. But our own things are not to be found in such a state; rather, with all being cut down and slaughtered, and everywhere besieged by varied kinds of wars, those things nevertheless always became more flourishing.
Error perishes by its own inclination. And why do I mention the Gentiles of our own age—those who are base and altogether easily held in contempt? Let us rather bring into the middle those who were at one time wonderful among them, celebrated for the honor of their philosophy—Plato, Pythagoras, Diagoras of Melos, and many others of this kind—and then you will prove the strength of the evangelical preaching. For after the poison of Socrates, some departed to Megara, fearing to suffer similar things; another was deprived of both his country and his liberty, and he did not bring anyone under the study of philosophy except one woman. Plato, however, B leaving behind the discipline depicted on his pages, was dissolved in death. And certainly there was nothing at that time to impede them: no danger, no poverty, no lack of skill in speaking! They were powerful in speech, affluent in wealth, and boasting in the nobility of their fatherland. But they could not acquire anything; for such is the condition of error: even when no one opposes it, it grows old and falls away. Such, however, is the status of truth, by contrast: even with many attacking it, it is awakened and grows. The very truth of things proclaims that these things are so, and there is no need here for the assertion of words, since the whole world everywhere, in a way, emits a voice—namely, the cities, the fields, the lands, the seas, and places cultivated and desolate, and the very summits of the mountains as well. For it did not leave the wilderness bereft of its benefit, but filled that very place most of all with the goods that it brought to us coming down from heaven, principally through the tongue of Paul and through the grace that it bestowed upon him. For because he bore a devotion worthy of such a gift, grace also shone forth abundantly in him, and very many of these things which we have recounted up to this point have been completed by his own mouth and sermon.
We can be like Paul. Since, therefore, God has ennobled our race in such a way that he deemed one man worthy to be the cause of such great goods, let us also strive to be found similar to him. And let us not deem this impossible; since, as I have often said and now do not cease to impress upon you, his body was such as ours is also, his soul the same, his food the same, but his will was marvelous and his devotion excellent, and this is exactly why he became such as he was. Therefore, let no one distrust, let no one despair; if you intend your soul and prepare yourself, there is nothing that can prohibit you from the gifts of the same grace; for God is no respecter of persons. C He formed him and you, and just as God was his, so He is also yours; and as He praised him for his merit, so He also offers the crown to you. Let us, therefore, pledge ourselves to God and cleanse ourselves, so that we too, obtaining the same grace, may receive the same rewards, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is glory and power for ages of ages. Amen.
CONCERNING THE PRAISES OF THE HOLY APOSTLE PAUL. HOMILY
Where now are they who, with a questioning mind, are always accustomed to blame death and think that this corruptible and passible body is an impediment to them toward virtue? Let them hear the excellent deeds of Paul, and let them rest from this most malicious disparagement. For what harm has death done to the human race? What, indeed, has the corruption of the body impeded regarding virtue? Consider Paul, therefore, and you will see that this mortality helps us even toward the greatest utility. For if he had not been mortal, he would by no means have been able to say—or, rather, he would not have been able to show—what he spoke by his own deeds: For I die daily for your glory, which I have in Christ Jesus (1 Cor. 15:31). For we have need everywhere of the intention of the soul and a prompt will; if these are present, there will be nothing that can prohibit us from virtue, just as the preceding discourse has already mentioned. Was this man not mortal? Was he not ignoble? Was he not poor, and seeking his living by daily labor? Did he not possess a body subjected to all the necessities of nature? What, therefore, forbade him to shine with those virtues in which he flourished? Certainly nothing. Therefore, let no one mourn that he was constituted in the first ranks.
A
HOMILY V.
Those only, who have a softened soul and a weakened mind. For this alone becomes an impediment to virtue—the vice of the soul and the softness of the disposition; without this, the others are nothing. And this is clear from that blessed man who has now brought us together. For just as nothing of these things harmed him, so, on the other hand, the opposites did not benefit those outside: neither sharpness of speech, nor abundance of wealth, nor prominence of birth, nor greatness of glory, nor being in positions of power. Why do I speak of men? Or rather, until when do I keep my discourse upon the earth, when it is possible to speak of the higher powers, the principalities, and the authorities, and the world-rulers of the darkness of this age? For what did it profit them to have attained such a nature? Do not all the powers come to be judged by Paul and those like him? For "Do you not know," he says, "that we shall judge angels, much more the things of this life?" (1 Cor. 6. 3) B Let us not, therefore, grieve for any other reason, but for vice alone; nor let us rejoice and be glad for any other reason, but for virtue alone. If we emulate this, there is nothing to prevent us from becoming like Paul. For he did not become such from grace alone, but also from his own zeal; and for this reason, he was [501] from grace, because he was also from zeal. For both were in excess—both what God breathed into him and what his own resolution provided. Do you wish to learn of the things of God? His garments were feared by demons. But I do not wonder at this, just as I do not wonder that diseases fled from the shadow of Peter. But I wonder that this wonderful thing appeared to be done by him even before grace, and from the very starting-line and very beginnings; C not yet possessing this power, nor having received ordination, he was so kindled with zeal toward Christ that he stirred up the whole multitude of the Jews against himself. Seeing him in such dangers, that even the city was being besieged, he was let down through a window in the wall; and having escaped, he did not fall into sloth, nor into cowardice and fear, but received even greater zeal from this, yielding to dangers for the sake of economy, but yielding his teaching to no one, but having seized the cross again, he followed—even though he still had before his eyes the example of Stephen, and was watching the Jews breathing murder most of all against him, and desiring to taste of his very flesh. Therefore, he did not fall into dangers recklessly, nor did he become softer by escaping. He was very much attached to the present life for the sake of the profit from it; and he very much despised it because of the philosophy that came to him from indifference, or because of his intense haste to depart to Jesus. For what I always say about him, and will never cease saying, is that no one, having fallen into such contrary things, practiced both with such precision. D For no one so desired the present life—not even those who are most fond of life—and no one so despised it, not even those who in their excess choose death. So pure was he from every desire, and he was attached to nothing present, but everywhere he mingled his own desire with the will of God; and now he says that it is more necessary than even the communion and fellowship with Christ, and now so heavy and burdensome, that he even groans and hastens toward the dissolution. For he desires only those things that bring him profit according to God, even if these happened to be contrary to the former. For he was indeed a versatile and manifold man, not acting—far from it—but becoming all things that the need of preaching and the salvation of men required, imitating in this his own Master. For God also appeared as man, because it was necessary for this to appear; and in fire, long ago, when the time required it; and now in the guise of a soldier and man-at-arms, now in the image of an elder, now in a breeze, now as a passenger, now as truly man; and he did not even refuse to die in this way. But when I say, "it was necessary," let no one think that there was any necessity in the words, but only his own philanthropy. And at one time he sits on a throne, at another time upon the Cherubim. But he did all these things according to the underlying dispensations. Wherefore also he said through the prophet: "I have multiplied visions, and in the hands of the prophets I was made like" (Osee 12. 10). So also Paul, imitating his own Master, would not be condemned, now becoming as a Jew, now as one without law; and now he kept the law, now he despised the law; and sometimes he held fast to the present life, sometimes he scorned it; and now he asked for money, now he even pushed away what was offered; and he made vows and was shaven, and again he anathematized those who did so; and now he circumcised, now he cast out circumcision. And the things being done were contrary, but the mind and the understanding, from which these things were done, were very consistent and connected to themselves. For he sought one thing: the salvation of those who heard and saw these things. For this very reason, now he raises up the law, now he destroys it. For it was not only in what he did, but also in what he said, that he was versatile and manifold, not changing his mind, nor becoming one thing from another, but remaining what he was, and handling each of the things said according to the present need. Do not, therefore, blame him for these things.
Instead, you ought rather to crown him with deserved praises on their account. For when you see a doctor A now applying heat, now fomenting, now using iron, now medicine, and at one time restraining the sick man from food and drink, at another time allowing him to gorge himself on these things, and at one time covering him everywhere and soothing him on all sides, but at another time, when the patient has grown hot, ordering him with confidence to drink a full cup of cold water—you will not, surely, blame him for this variety and frequent change, but will then primarily marvel at the art, when you see him offering with confidence those things that seem to us contrary and harmful. For this is the mark of a true and skilled artist. If, therefore, we approve of a doctor doing these contrary things, much more should we proclaim the soul of Paul, which adapts itself in so many and various ways to the sick. For those who are afflicted with the languor of the soul have no less need of art and variety in being cured than those who are afflicted with bodily sickness; those to whom, if you wished to approach them directly and without art, all hope of salvation would flee from them. And what is to be wondered at if men descend to these remedies for healing, since even the omnipotent God uses this very mode of medicine, B and does not speak all things to us uniformly and directly? For because He wishes us to become good willingly, not by necessity and violence, there is need also of a change of care—not on account of some impossibility of His own, far from it, but on account of our own fragility. For it is possible for Him to beckon only, or rather to wish only, and straightway to see done those things which He has willed. But we, having once obtained mastery of ourselves, do not suffer ourselves to be subject to God in all things; for if He were to draw those who are unwilling, He would Himself take away that which He bestowed, that is, the power of free will. Therefore, that this might not happen, there was need of a frequent variety of healing. These things, however, have been discussed by us not superfluously, but because of the varied and wise study of the blessed Paul, so that when you see him fleeing from dangers, you may not admire him less than when he rejoices to oppose himself to dangers; for since the latter is of fortitude, so the former is of wisdom. C And when you see him speaking great things about himself, you may similarly admire him as if you saw him disparaging himself; for as the latter is of humility, so the former is of magnanimity. For when you see him boasting, admire him; but similarly praise him when you see him saying humble and contemptible things about himself. For this is a mark of a soul void of arrogance, and that of one full of love and humanity. For he did these things for the dispensation of the salvation of many, because of which he says: "For whether we are beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we are sober, it is for you" (2 Cor. 5:13). And no one else had such—I do not say occasions, but altogether necessities—for arrogance, and yet no other person so cleanly withdrew himself from all vainglory. Therefore, consider these things with a more attentive mind. "Knowledge," he says, "puffs up" (1 Cor. 8:1); and we shall all easily say this with the Apostle. But certainly, there was in him such knowledge as there has been in anyone at any time, D and yet he did not exalt himself insolently, he who humbles and casts himself down in this very thing by saying: "We know in part, and we prophesy in part" (1 Cor. 13:9). And, "I do not think myself to have comprehended" (Phil. 3:13). And, "If any man think that he knoweth any thing, he hath not yet known as he ought to know" (1 Cor. 8:2). That Pharisee was manifest, who says: "I fast twice in the week" (Luke 18:12). But Paul, not only fasting, but even suffering hunger for Christ, calls himself even an "untimely birth" (1 Cor. 15:8).
Paul’s revelations not all disclosed. How Paul boasted of himself.
And what do I say concerning knowledge and fasting, when, even having such and so frequent dialogues with God, such as neither any of the prophets nor of the apostles had, he was rendered even more humble through those very things? For do not tell me of those things which we read. For he concealed more, nor did he say all things, lest he surround himself with greater glory: nor did he remain altogether silent on all things, lest he open the mouths of the pseudo-apostles against himself. For he did nothing idly, but all things with a just cause and a probable reason. With such great reason, therefore, he performed such great and various and contrary things, that he might yet be everywhere adorned with the same praises. And while we say this more openly, observe. It is a great good to speak nothing great about oneself; but he did this so opportunely and aptly, that he more deserved to be praised by speaking of himself than by keeping silent. Who, if he had not done this, would have been more guilty than those who have learned to praise themselves importunely; and if he had not also boasted, he would have lost those committed to him and, while humbling himself, would have lifted up all the affairs of his enemies. Thus he knew how to use the time everywhere, and with right counsel and judgment to perform those things which seem to be reprobable, so usefully and conveniently that he was no less pleasing for those things than when he fulfilled what was commanded. For Paul now pleased more by boasting than another by concealing his own praises; and no one profited so much when he concealed his merits, as this man did when he revealed them. But this, too, is far more admirable: that he not only spoke of himself, but also spoke as much as he ought. For he did not use his praises immoderately, as if he had obtained the greatest license from the opportunity; but he most considerately recognized how far it was permitted him to proceed. Nor, however, did he believe this to be sufficient for himself, but lest he should [corrupt] others by this speech, and cause them to proclaim themselves vainly, he willingly even called himself a fool; although he touched upon some praise of his own when a certain cause invited him. For because it was consequent that others, looking to that same thing, might rashly and vainly use his example: which often happens also to doctors; for often a medicine which one has applied opportunely, another applying importunely obscures and corrupts the power of the medicine: lest, therefore, this should happen here also, see with how much precaution he used the power; who, when he was about to boast, not once, not twice, but more often by delaying and hesitating, said: "Would to God you could bear with some little of my folly" (2 Cor. 11:1-2): and again, "That which I speak, I speak not according to God, but as it were in foolishness" (IB. v. 17 and 21). And although he had said such things, not even so did he...I am but a man, I am bold to say it. And having said so much, he was not content with these things, but again, as he was about to enter into praises, he conceals himself, saying: I know a man; and again: On behalf of such a one will I glory, but on my own behalf I will not glory; and after all these things, I am become a fool, he says, you have compelled me. Who then is so senseless and utterly devoid of understanding as, seeing that holy man, when such necessity is upon him, being reluctant and shrinking from saying anything great concerning himself, and like a horse rushing down a precipice and continually pulling back, yet intending to order such things, not to avoid the matter out of great abundance, but only when time compels him to make use of it?
Do you wish that I show you another such as he? For the wonder is this, that he was not content with his conscience, but he was also teaching us how one ought to set about each of these things, not only constructing an apology for himself from the necessity of the times, but also instructing others so that when the occasion falls out, one should not avoid such a thing, nor again pursue it out of season. For through these things which he said, he was almost saying this: It is a great evil to speak anything great and wonderful about oneself; and it is of extreme folly, beloved, to do so when there is no necessity, no violent necessity, to be adorned with praises. This is not to speak according to the Lord, but such a thing is rather a sign of madness, and it empties us of all reward after many labors and toils. For all these things, and more than these, he said to all, through which he apologized when necessity arose.
The greater thing is this, that not even when necessity arose did he pour everything out into the midst, but he concealed most and the greater things. For I will come, he says, to visions and revelations of the Lord; but I forbear, lest any man should account of me above that which he seeth or heareth from me. These things he said, instructing all, even when there is no necessity, not to bring everything of which we are conscious to ourselves and lay it in the midst, but only what is useful to the hearers. For even Samuel—for there is nothing absurd in remembering that holy man, for even the praises are for our benefit—even he boasted at times, and uttered his own righteous deeds; but what were they? Those which were profitable to the hearers. For he did not extend a long discourse concerning temperance, nor concerning humility, nor concerning not harboring ill-will, but concerning what? Concerning that which the one then reigning most needed to learn, concerning justice, and the having hands clean of gifts. And David again, when boasting, boasts from those things that were able to correct the hearer. For he too did not speak of another virtue, but brought forward the bear and the lion into the midst, and nothing else.
For to carry the discourse further is that of a vain and arrogant person; but to say those things which were to be necessary for the present need is that of a philanthropic person, and one who sees the common advantage; which thing also Paul did. For he was being slandered A as not being an approved apostle, nor having any strength. There was necessity, therefore, because of those things, to fall into these, which most clearly demonstrated his dignity.
Do you see through how many things he instructed the hearer not to boast simply? First, by showing that he did this out of necessity; second, by calling himself a fool and using many excuses; third, by not saying everything, but concealing the greater things, and this when there was necessity; fourth, by assuming another mask and saying that, I know a man; fifth, by not bringing all the other virtue into the midst, but that part of which the present time had most need.
He was of this kind not only in boasting, but also in insulting B. And yet even this was forbidden, to insult a brother, but in this too he made use of it so opportunely that he is approved more than those who praise. For this reason, calling the Galatians senseless once and twice, and the Cretians slow bellies and evil beasts, he is proclaimed even from this. For he gave us a model and a canon, so that we should not use remedy for those things which are neglected according to God, but should handle the word more piercingly. And there are measures for all things laid down by him; for this reason, doing and saying all, he fared well, by both insulting and praising, and turning away and healing, and lifting himself up and lowering himself, and boasting and lamenting.
And why do you wonder if insult and reproach be praised, where even murder and deceit and guile were praised, both in the Old Testament and in the New? Having examined all these things then with accuracy, let us admire Paul, and let us glorify God, and let us handle him [our life] in this way, that we also may attain the eternal goods, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power, now and always, and for ever and ever. Amen.
CONCERNING THE HOLY APOSTLE PAUL. Homily IV
Do you wish today, beloved, to leave aside the great things, and bring into the midst those things that appear to some to be a handle for Paul, and for which he seems to have some [censure]? For indeed...
we shall find him to be shown as no less clear and magnificent from these than from the others. What then is that which is judged reprehensible? He was seen, they say, sometimes to fear blows; which indeed he was seen to do when the soldiers scourged him, and not only then, but also at another time before that seller of purple, when he was even moving causes before those who were hastening to lead him out of prison. For he was doing nothing else in this than providing a defense for himself, and if he were to escape any of these things, he was providing that he might not fall into them again. What then shall we say? Since there would be nothing so great and admirable in him, as these words declare, because having just such a soul, that is to say, not one headlong through some sort of wickedness and desperation, and a body yielding to blows; and trembling at lashes, he nonetheless, no less than incorporeal virtues, looked down upon all those things which appear terrible, when the time required it. When therefore you see him extended for blows, and fearing, remember those words through which he ascended to heaven and contended with angels, saying: *Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?* (Rom. 8. 35)? And remember those words by which he proclaims all that he suffers to be nothing, saying: *For that which is at present momentary and light of our tribulation, worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen* (2 Cor. 4. 17, 18). Add to these the daily tribulations, nay rather the deaths of every single day, and while you weigh these things, admire Paul, and cease to despair of yourself. For this which seems to be an infirmity of nature is itself the greatest indication of his virtue, because he indeed showed himself such, even when he was tortured by the necessity of many things. Since the enormity of the dangers had suggested this opinion of him to many, and had indeed made them suspect that he, in progressing beyond human nature, was such a great one: for that reason he was permitted to be troubled, that you might learn that while according to nature he was one of many; yet because of his will he was not only above many men, but was even one of the angels. Yet with such a soul and such a body he endured a thousand deaths, despised the present, contemned the future, and resonated those clear and magnificent words: *For I have wished*, he says, *myself to be an anathema from Christ for my brethren, who are my kinsmen according to the flesh* (Rom. 9. 3). It is possible, therefore, to perform the commands of God, if only we wish to overcome all the trepidation of nature eagerly by virtue, and nothing is impossible of those things which are commanded to men by Christ. For if, as much as lies in us, we wish to express our strength, God also attaches the greatest aid to us, and thus, even if all adverse things rush upon us, we shall nevertheless be kept safe and untouched in the midst of dangers. B Yet neither is to fear blows worthy of censure, but to commit something unworthy of piety because of the fear of blows. For by this very thing, because he fears blows, he who is not conquered in the struggle is shown to be more admirable than he who does not fear. For virtue shines more in that one who has conquered even those things which he feared. For to dread blows belongs to nature: but to do nothing indecent because of the fear of blows belongs to the will that helps the weak nature, and overcomes its imbecility by its own virtue. Thus neither is it culpable to grieve, but to do or say anything through grief that is displeasing to God. But if I denied that Paul was a man, you could deservedly oppose to me these fragilities of his nature, by which you could refute our discourse. But if I myself say and confirm that he was indeed a man, and was in no way superior to us even by the condition of nature, yet was better in his will: you propose these things to me in vain, nay not in vain, but entirely in favor of Paul, and from this you show most especially what kind of man he was, who, living in such a nature, was able in a certain way to be above nature. But you do not only extol him; you also rebuke those who are sluggish and settle themselves into sloth; not supporting them to flee to the eminent nature, but compelling them to the zeal of the will. C *Whether Paul feared death; we are made good by free will.* But, you say, he sometimes feared death as well. But this too is surely of nature; and yet again this same man who feared death said: *For we who are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened* (2 Cor. 5. 4). Do you see how he has opposed the virtue of the will to the natural infirmity from the contrary? For even many martyrs, when they were being led to death, quite often turned pale, and were filled with fear and trepidation: but by this very thing they are proved especially admirable, since those very ones who feared to die, did not, however, flee from death for the sake of Christ. Thus also Paul, who, while he feared death, did not even refuse hell itself, he who for the desire of Christ, even when he feared destruction, yet desired to be dissolved. But it was not he alone who was such, but he also who was the head of the apostles, who had often said that he was prepared to lay down his life for Christ (Matt. 26), and yet he had vehemently shuddered at death. Hear therefore what Christ says to him concerning this: *But when thou shalt be old, another shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou dost not wish* (John 21. 18): expressing the infirmity of nature, not of the will. Inasmuch as nature shows its own things even to us who are unwilling, and we cannot overcome its infirmities, nor even if we should desire it very studiously; nor do we blame this, because indeed we are injured by nothing from it, nay we are all the more admirable from it. For it is not a crime to fear death: nay on the contrary, how great is the praise when you fear death, yet suffer nothing base and servile through fear? For it is not a crime to have a nature subject to infirmities, but to serve the infirmities: so that he is deservedly held to be great and admirable who has overcome the imbecility of nature by the virtue of the will: and D by this very thing he shows how great is the power of free will, and blocks...
the mouths of those who say, "Why were we not made good by nature?" For what does it matter whether one is this by nature or by choice? And how much better is the latter than the former? By as much as it also holds crowns and illustrious proclamation. But is that of nature firm? But if you wish to have a noble choice, this becomes firmer than that. Or do you not see the bodies of the martyrs being cut with swords, and nature yielding to the iron, but the will not yielding to it, nor being A refuted? Did you not see in the case of Abraham, tell me, the will overcoming nature, when he was commanded to slaughter his son, and this appeared more powerful than that? Did you not see the same thing happen in the case of the three youths? Do you not hear also the external proverb saying that choice becomes a second nature from habit? I would say, however, that it is even a prior one, as the things previously said have demonstrated. You see that it is possible to have even the firmness that is from nature, if the choice be noble and watchful: and for one who has chosen and willed to be good to reap greater praise than one who has been compelled to be such. This is especially good, as when he says: *I bruise my body and bring it into subjection* (1 Cor. IX, 27). Then I especially praise him, seeing that he is not achieving virtue without labor, so that his ease might not be a subject for sloth for those who come after. And when he B says again, *I have been crucified to the world* (Gal. VI, 14), I crown his will. For it is possible, it is possible, I say, for the power of nature to be accurately imitated by the will: and if we bring into the midst this very statue of virtue, we will find that the goods which were his by choice he struggled to bring to the firmness of nature. For he indeed suffered pain when struck; but he despised the incorporeal powers that do not suffer no less than them, as it is possible to hear from his words, which he does not even think of as belonging to our nature. For when he says: *To me the world has been crucified, and I to the world* (ibid.), and again, *And I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me* (Gal. II, 20), what else does he seem to say, but that he had departed even from this body itself? And what, when he says, *There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan* (2 Cor. XII, 7)? But this is nothing else than to show that the pain stopped at the body; not because it did not pass within, but because by the abundance of his will he beat it back and pushed it away. And what, when he says many other things more wonderful than these, and rejoices being scourged, and boasts in his chains? What else could one say, but this which I said, that the saying, *I bruise my body and bring it into subjection, and I fear lest having preached to others I myself should become disqualified* (1 Cor. IX, 27), demonstrates the weakness of nature, but by these things which I have mentioned, the nobility of the will? For on account of this both are set forth, so that you might neither think him to be of another nature because of those great things, and despair, nor because of these small things judge the holy soul, but from thence again banishing despair, you might lead yourself into good hopes. For this reason he places again also that of the grace C of God with abundance, or rather not with abundance but with gratitude, so that you might think nothing to be his own. He speaks also of his own eagerness, so that by casting everything upon God, you might not live sleeping and lagging. And you will find measures and rules of all things set forth by him with accuracy. But also he cursed the coppersmith, he says, Alexander, at one time. And what of this? For the word was not of anger, but of the pain that is for the sake of the truth: for he did not suffer for his own sake, but because he was resisting the preaching: *For he resists greatly*, he says, not me, but our words: so that the curse did not only show his longing which was for the sake of the truth, but also comforted the disciples. Since it was likely that all would be scandalized, that those who were doing despite to the word were suffering nothing, for this reason he says these things. But also he once prayed against others, saying: *If it is just before God to repay with affliction those who afflict us* (2 Thess. I, 6): not desiring to give vengeance to them, God forbid, but hastening to comfort those who were being despitefully treated: wherefore he also adds, *And to you who are afflicted, rest with us* (Ibid. v. 7). Moreover, when he himself suffers anything disagreeable, hear how he philosophizes, and repays with the opposites, saying: *Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being defamed, we entreat* (1 Cor. IV, 12). If, however, you should say that the things spoken or done on behalf of others are of anger, it is time for you to say that he blinded Elymas the magician out of anger, and made him water-logged, and that Peter killed Ananias and Sapphira out of anger. But no one is so foolish and silly as to say these things. And we find him also saying and doing many other things, which seem to be burdensome, and these are especially what show his gentleness. For when he delivers to Satan the fornicator in Corinth, he does it from much love and a most affectionate mind; and this he reveals also from the second epistle. And when he threatens the Jews and says, *The wrath of God has reached them to the end* (1 Thess. II, 16), he does it not filled with anger (you hear him at least constantly praying for them), but wishing to terrify and make them more self-controlled. But, he says, he insulted the priest, saying: *God is about to strike you, you whitewashed wall* (Act. XXIII, 3). And we know that some, defending themselves against this, say that what was spoken was a prophecy. And I do not reproach those who say so; for this happened, and so he died. If, however, some enemy who is more bitter should contradict, and doing something more meddlesome should object, saying: "And if it was a prophecy, for what reason was he apologizing, saying, 'I did not know'?"
HOMILIA VII. ON THE PRAISES OF SAINT PAUL THE APOSTLE
A is the high priest; we would say this, that in teaching and admonishing others to be modest before those who are in authority, as Christ also did, he himself wished to be obedient; for certainly, when Christ had spoken a thousand things, both matters to be told and matters not to be told, concerning the scribes and Pharisees, he says: *The scribes and the Pharisees have sat on the chair of Moses: all things therefore whatsoever they shall say to you, observe: but according to their works do ye not* (Matt. XXIII, 2-3).
Thus, therefore, Paul here both preserved the dignity of the pontiff and foretold what was to come. But if he separated John from his company (Acts XV, 38), he did this most rightly for the sake of the common office of preaching. For he who undertakes this office ought not to be someone soft and irresolute, but strong and robust in all things. Nor, indeed, should anyone even touch the function of this illustrious ministry unless he is prepared a thousand times to hand his soul over to death and dangers. For the Lord Jesus himself says: *If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me* (Matt. XVI, 24). He, therefore, who is not of such a mind, destroys many others also by his example, and it is more useful if he remains quiet and occupies himself only with his own affairs, rather than if he should advance into the midst and assume a burden greater than his own strength; for thus he betrays not only his own salvation, but also that of many committed to him. For how indeed is it not absurd, that when someone knows nothing of the art of steering or of fighting with the waves, he would not choose to sit at the helm even if forced by a thousand circumstances, and yet he who goes to the office of preaching should approach it rashly and as it happens, and take up the care of countless things without any consideration? Therefore, it is not a ship's pilot, nor one fighting against beasts, nor one destined for the gladiator's game, that ought to have a soul so prepared and exposed to dangers and deaths, as he who undertakes the office of preaching. For indeed the dangers are greater, the adversaries are more savage, and not one single type of death threatens, nor is the contest waged anywhere at all under similar conditions. B Heaven, then, is not set before us as the prize here, but gehenna is proposed as the punishment, and the eternal salvation or destruction of the soul. Nor is it only necessary for him who girds himself for preaching to be so prepared, but for anyone, even for a simple Christian: for to take up the cross and follow Christ is commanded to all. But if to all, much more to the teachers and pastors of the people, from whose number John, who was also called Mark, then was: who, because he had acted very unmanly by placing himself at the very front of the battle line, Paul rightly rejected him (Acts XIII, 5; XV, 38), lest the strength of others be corrupted as if by his contagion. But if Luke reports that some contention happened between them, do not think this is a fault. For it is not evil to be moved, but to be moved irrationally and with no just matter demanding it. *Unjust anger*, it says, *will not be justified* (Sir. I, 28): trivial anger, therefore, is not blamed, but unjust anger; and again, *Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause* (Matt. V, 22): not, therefore, one who is simply angry. And the Prophet says: *Be angry, and sin not* (Ps. IV, 5; Eph. IV, 26). But if it is not at all necessary to use such a desire, it seems to us to have been born in vain; but certainly it is not in vain, for the provident Creator planted it in us to awaken souls that are asleep and relaxed from laziness and sloth. For as if with a sword's edge, he placed a keenness of anger in our mind, so that we might use it when it is necessary. Therefore, Paul often used this passion, and he was better when angry than those speaking with mere mildness, doing everything at an opportune time for the profit and benefit of preaching. For indeed, mildness is not simply good, but [only] when the time requires it: when, however, that is not present, even this is vicious, and becomes the anger of obstinacy. However, I have not spoken all these things to appease you on behalf of Paul: for he does not need our speech; for his praise is not from men, but from God (Rom. II, 29); but that we might instruct the hearers, so that they may use their passions for opportuneness, as I have already mentioned before. C For thus we shall be able to gather the increase of spiritual profits from every side, and with the greatest riches arrive at the safest harbor, and attain the unfading crowns, which may it be granted to all of us to merit, by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is glory and power, now and always, and for ages of ages. Amen.
ON THE HOLY APOSTLE PAUL.
«When those who carry the royal standards, with the trumpet sounding before them and the line of soldiers preceding them, enter the cities, the whole populace is accustomed to run together to hear the sound of the trumpet, or to see the sign that is carried aloft, and [to see] the virtue of the one carrying it. Since, therefore, today Paul is entering not a city, but the world, let us all run together. For this man carries not the sign of some earthly king, but the cross of Christ who reigns in heaven; and there precede him not armies of men, but of angels, not only in honor of the sign that is carried, but also for the help of the one by whom it is carried, and for the safety of the bearer.
HOMILY VII
A Angeli nostrum custodes. — For if to those who manage only their own lives, and do nothing for the common good, angels have been given as guardians by the Lord of all—as also someone says: *The angel who delivers me from my youth* (Gen. 48.16)—much more are the powers from above present to those to whom the care of the whole world has been entrusted, and who bear the burden of such great gifts. And indeed, those who have been deemed worthy of this honor by the powers of this world are encircled with precious garments and golden collars, and are brilliant on every side; but this man, wearing a chain instead of gold, carries the cross; this man is driven, this man is scourged, and suffers hunger. But do not be downcast, beloved. For this order is much better and more brilliant than that, and is dear to God; wherefore even as he bore it, he did not labor. For this is the marvelous thing, that he was more brilliant with chains and lashes and marks than those who possess the purple and the diadem. And that he was more brilliant, and that those things were not empty boasts, his garments manifested. For you might lay ten thousand diadems and as many purples upon one who is sick, yet not be able to cut off even a little of the flame; but his handkerchiefs, coming into contact with the bodies of the sick, cause every disease to flee; and with good reason. For if robbers, seeing that military sign, do not dare to approach but flee looking not behind them, much more do diseases and demons, seeing that sign, flee. He bore it, though, not that he might carry it alone, but that he might make all others such and teach them to bear it; wherefore he said: *Be imitators of me, just as I am of Christ* (1 Cor. 11.1). He became an imitator of Christ himself, but you are not even of the apostles; he was an emulator of the Lord, but you are not even of your fellow servant; and what excuse can you have? And how, he says, did he imitate Him? Consider this from the beginning and from the very outset. For since he came up from those life-giving waters having so great a fire that he did not even await a master—for he did not wait for Peter, nor did he come to James, nor to any other person at all, but, caught up by his own zeal, he so inflamed the city that a grievous war flared up against him; for indeed, even when he was a Jew, he used to do things beyond his station, binding, leading away, confiscating the Christians. So also Moses, when no one had ordained him, defended his own kin against the iniquity of the barbarians.
C True virtue in Paul. — For these are the sure proofs of a brave and manly soul: this mark of his own free judgment, not indeed to bear with patience the afflictions of others, but to kindly and constantly hold [to the support of] those who are oppressed, even if no one orders him to this office. For indeed, that he rightly seized the leadership, God showed by afterwards bestowing that dignity. He preserved the same in Paul: for as he rightly acted by spontaneously seizing the beginnings of the word and of the teaching, in the same way he showed he was quickly exalting that teacher. For if they had leaped into affairs and into the curing of others for the sake of honor and rank, they would justly have been blamed. Since, however, they loved dangers and drew deaths upon themselves that they might save others, who is so wretched as to bring a charge against such zeal? For that they were doing these things out of a desire for the salvation of the lost, both the verdict of God has declared, and the ruin of those who had wrongly coveted that honor has declared. For others also once leaped into rule and leadership, but they all perished—some burned, others swallowed up by a rift in the earth. For they were not doing this for the sake of the defense of the people, but for the love of rank. Uzziah also leaped, but he too became unclean (2 Par. 26): he also leaped, Simon, but he was rejected.
and was in danger of death (Acts 8); Paul, indeed, also rushed in, but he was crowned with the glory of the apostolate. For he did not rush into the priesthood, nor into honor, but into ministry and labors; and he hastened with the greatest zeal and eagerness in this: therefore he is proclaimed, therefore he is immediately rendered illustrious. For just as one who has been ordained a leader, if he does not administer the office imposed upon him worthily, deserves even greater punishments; so someone else, even if he is not ordained, yet if he undertakes—and fulfills as is fitting—not, I say, the priesthood, but the solicitude and care for many, he is surely worthy of every honor. Therefore, he did not suffer even one day to pass in ease and quiet, this man who was more vehement than the very fire in the ardor of preaching; but as soon as he ascended from the life-giving fountain, and kindled a great flame within himself, he did not fear dangers, he did not blush with shame at the mocking and reproaches of the Jews, nor did he take it indignantly when his speech was rejected by them: he thought of nothing similar to any of these things, but taking up other eyes—those of charity—and another mind, he rushed in with much impetuosity like a torrent, dragging and rolling everything of the Jews along with it, and clearly showing from the Scriptures that he himself was Christ. And certainly not so many gifts of grace were yet shining in him, not yet had he been endowed with such illumination by the Spirit; but nevertheless, his inflamed will and truly mortified soul were doing everything, and as if he were always satisfying God for time already spent, so he carried out all things, so he gathered spiritual gains from every side, confidently leaping into the place which was the greatest part of the war, and full of labors and dangers.
Obedience of Paul commended.
This, however, is worthy of even greater admiration: that while he was so bold, and as if always equipped for battle, and breathing a certain warlike fire, he again showed himself so placable and flexible to his masters, that he never offended them even in that great impetuosity of eagerness. So, when they commanded the then-fervent, or rather raging man that he should go to Tarsus and Caesarea, he did not refuse. They said that it was necessary for him to be let down through the wall, and he suffered it; they gave advice that he should shave his head, he did not resist; they persuaded him not to enter into the theater, and he yielded. He had so dedicated himself to this matter, that he received everything willingly for the utility of the faithful, loving peace, consensus, dispensation, and concord for their very edification, and keeping himself everywhere the same and always equal to the preaching. Therefore, when you hear that he sent his sister's son to the Tribune, wishing to be freed from dangers; and that he appealed to Caesar; and that he hastened to go to Rome; do not by any means think this is an expression of fear. For he who groaned at still being in this life, would he not rather have chosen to be with Christ? He who even despised heaven because of Him, and the angels, by what means finally did he love these present things? For the sake of what thing, therefore, was he doing these things? Without doubt, so that he might insist on the preaching longer, and might go to Christ with many having believed from this place and all being crowned. For he surely feared that he might depart from here poor and destitute of the salvation of many. And for that reason he said: "To remain in the flesh is necessary for your sake" (Philipp. 1.24). Therefore, when he saw that a better sentence had proceeded for him in judgment, and even with Festus saying, "This man could have been released, if he had not appealed to Caesar" (Acts 26.32), nevertheless, bound, and led with many prisoners who had committed a thousand crimes, he did not blush to be bound with them; nay rather, he took care of all those sailing together, for he was secure about himself, and most certain that he was safe enough. And although he was being led bound through such a vast sea, he rejoiced nevertheless, as if he were being led into the greatest empire. For truly, no small reward was proposed to him: the conversion of the city of Rome. But he did not think even those who were sailing together were to be held in contempt, but he moderated them also with the sweetness of truth, indicating to them the divine countenances, and commemorating those things which had been said to him, that is: "God has granted thee all them that sail with thee" (Acts 27.24). He was doing this, however, not arrogantly extolling himself, but preparing them for the persuasion of faith. Therefore God also permitted the sea to be moved, so that through that by which he was not heard, and through that by which he was heard, the spiritual grace of Paul might be revealed. For even when he gave advice that they should not sail, he was held in contempt, and they came even to extreme dangers (Ibid.). But he did not become more onerous for them even when they were contemplating this; but again, as a father provides for his children, he acted and did all things, so that no one should perish.
How much modesty he exhibited at Rome. Comparison with a leader of an army.
But after he entered Rome, with how much modesty he announces the truth there also, with how much liberty he shuts the mouths of the impious! But not content with remaining even there, he also traverses into Spain. But since he was sustaining varied dangers more often, he trusted more and became more bold; and not he alone, but also the disciples because of him, who were strengthened by his example in any case. For just as if they had seen him more remiss and slothful, they perhaps would have been cast down by sadness; so those who saw that he had been made stronger, and that he was often growing in the virtue of constancy amidst injuries and blows, they themselves also preached with greater confidence: and signifying this, he says, "So that more of the brethren, being confident in my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word of God without fear" (Philip. 1.14). For if a leader of the army is strong and robust—not only striking and crushing, but also himself struck by a wound—he makes his own subjects stronger, and he provides this more when he himself is wounded than when he is wounding. For when those who fight under such a master see the wounds inflicted, the flowing blood, and that he does not yield even then to the enemies at any time, but stands bravely, brandishing his spears, and rushing into the adversaries with frequent and certain blows, and not at all sparing himself from the pain, they are undoubtedly subjected to such a leader with greater eagerness. This therefore happened also to Paul. For seeing him bound in chains, and nevertheless preaching in prison, seeing him also scourged, and yet the scourgers themselves...
they would receive greater boldness. Therefore, expressing this, he did not say simply, "Confident," but he adds, "to speak the word of God without fear with greater boldness"; that is to say, "The brethren now spoke with greater boldness than when I was free." At that time he himself received greater eagerness; for he was then more greatly stirred up against his enemies, and the additions of his persecutions were to him an occasion for a greater boldness and for a higher courage. In any case, he was once shut up, and he shone forth so much that he shook the foundations, opened the doors, brought over the jailer to himself, and almost persuaded the judge, so that he himself said, "In a little time you persuade me to become a Christian." Again he was stoned, and having entered the city that was stoning him, he changed it. They called him as if they were going to judge him, sometimes Jews, sometimes Athenians, and the judges became his disciples, the adversaries his subjects. And just as fire having fallen into various materials grows more, and takes the underlying fuel as an addition; so also the tongue of Paul, to as many as he came near, changed them to himself, and those fighting him, being captured by his words, became food for this spiritual fire, and through them again the word was lifted up, and went forth to others. Therefore he also said: "I am bound, but the word is not bound." They were banishing him; and the action was persecution, but the resulting event was the sending out of teachers. And whatever friends and associates would have done, his enemies did. Not allowing him to be settled in one place, but leading the physician everywhere—through those very things by which they plotted, through those by which they drove him—they caused everyone to hear his tongue. They bound him again, and stimulated him the more; they drove away his disciples, and sent them to those who had no teacher; they led him to a greater court, and benefited the greater city. Therefore, also the Jews, grieving over the Apostles, said: "What shall we do to these men?" By means of those things which, they say, we set out to do, by these we aid them. They handed him over to the jailer, that he might hold him securely; but he was more securely bound by Paul. They sent him with prisoners, that he might not flee; but he instructed the prisoners. They sent him by way of the sea, that even against their will they might provide for the journey to be quickly completed; and the shipwreck that happened became an occasion of instruction for those sailing with him. They threatened ten thousand punishments, that the preaching might be extinguished, but it was raised up the more. And just as in the case of the Master they said: "Let us kill him, that the Romans may not come and take away both our city and our nation," and the opposite happened—for because they killed him, for this reason the Romans came and took away both their nation and their city; and what they thought were hindrances, these became aids to the preaching—so also with Paul preaching, whatever things they brought in to cut off the word, these increased him, and raised him to an unspeakable height. Because of all these things, let us give thanks to the ingenious God; let us declare Paul blessed, through whom these things have been brought about; let us pray that we ourselves may attain the same goods, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, unto the ages of ages. Amen.
ON THE HOMILY ON SAINT MELETIUS
The time of this sermon is assigned by Chrysostom shortly after the beginning: "The fifth year, he says, has already passed, since he migrated to Jesus." Meletius died at Constantinople, having been summoned there by the emperor, in the year 381, about the end of the month of May. Therefore this homily was held after the month of May of the year 386, before the shrine of the relics of the same saint, not on the anniversary of his death, for Chrysostom would not have said that the fifth year had already passed (*ἤδη παρέδραμεν*), but perhaps on the day of the translation of his relics to Antioch, which seems to fall on the twelfth of February, on which day the Greek and Roman Martyrologies announce his feast. If this calculation holds, and if the Martyrologies accurately note the day of the translation, which however does not rarely happen otherwise, this sermon will have been held on the twelfth of February of the year 387, after five years and eight and a half months since Meletius had passed away.
ENCOMIASTIC HOMILY ON OUR HOLY FATHER MELETIUS, ARCHBISHOP OF GREAT ANTIOCH, AND ON THE ZEAL OF THOSE WHO HAVE ASSEMBLED
ASurveying this holy flock with my eyes, and seeing the entire city present here, I know not whom to pronounce blessed first: the holy Meletius, because even after his death he enjoys such honor, or your charity, because you show such benevolence toward your pastors even after their departure. For blessed is he, in that he was able to leave such love for himself among you all; and blessed are you, in that, having received the deposit of love, you have preserved it intact and ever-enduring for him who deposited it. For the fifth year has now passed since he departed to Jesus, whom he desired, yet you have approached him today with an affection as fervent as if you had seen him yesterday or the day before. Because of this, he is blessed for having begotten such children; and you are blessed, for it has fallen to you to have had such a father. The root is noble and admirable, but neither are the fruits unworthy of this root. For as a certain admirable root, hidden in the bosom of the earth, does not itself appear, yet demonstrates the strength of its own virtue through its fruits, so too the blessed Meletius, though hidden in this casket, is not seen by us with the eyes of the body; yet through you, who are his fruits, he sufficiently shows the power of his grace. Even if we remain silent, the festival and the fervor of your zeal are enough to proclaim the love of holy Meletius for you more clearly than B any trumpet. For he so inflamed your minds with love for him that you grow warm even at the mere mention of his name, and are stirred by the very appellation.
Antiochians used to give the name of Meletius to their children; they painted his image everywhere. For this reason, I too, not rashly, but with study and forethought, now weave that name continuously into my words. And just as one who weaves a golden crown, by inserting pearls, makes the diadem more radiant by the frequency of the gems, so I, too, weaving a crown of praises for his blessed head, attach his name to my discourse, repeated often like a string of pearls, hoping thereby to make it more pleasing and splendid. For lovers are accustomed to embrace even the bare names of those they love, and to grow warm at the very appellations: a thing that has come to pass among you also with this blessed man. For when you received him upon his entrance into the city at the beginning, each man used to call his own son by his name, each believing that through the appellation he was introducing the saint into his own home; and, passing over fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, mothers were bestowing the name of the blessed Meletius upon the children they had brought forth. For love of piety overcame nature, and those who were born thereafter were dear to their parents not only by natural benevolence, but also by affection toward that name. For they believed that the very name was an ornament of their lineage, a protection of their homes, a salvation for those so called, and a solace of love; and just as if certain people, sitting in darkness, once one lamp has been sighted, kindle many torches and each C brings one into his own house, so too, when that appellation had descended upon the city like a light, everyone introduced the name of that blessed man into his own house, as if bringing home a certain treasure of innumerable goods through that appellation, and that was truly a doctrine of great piety. For since they were constantly compelled to remember that appellation and to embrace the holy man in their minds, they possessed this name as a kind of weapon with which every affection and thought alien to reason was put to flight; and it became so frequent that this name resounded everywhere—at the crossroads, in the marketplace, in the fields, and on the roads. Nor were you so affected toward the name alone, but also toward the very figure of his body. For just as you did with the names, so you also did with his image: for in the bezels of rings, and in seals, and in phials, and on the walls of bedchambers, and everywhere, many expressed that holy image, so that they might not only hear that holy appellation, but also might see the figure of his body everywhere, and receive a double consolation for his exile.
D Meletius was banished into exile. For no sooner had he entered than he was at once driven out of the city, the enemies of truth expelling him. But God allowed it, wishing to demonstrate both his virtue and your fortitude. For since, having entered, he had cleared the city of the error of heresy, like Moses in Egypt, and having amputated the rotten and incurable limbs from the rest of the body, had restored complete health to the multitude of the Church, the enemies of truth, not bearing the correction, having stirred up the Emperor, drove him from this city, expecting that in this way they would be superior to the truth and overturn that correction of affairs. But the outcome was the opposite of what they expected; and both your zeal and his scientific skill in teaching shone forth all the more—his, because in thirty days, and not even complete ones, he was able to ground you so firmly in the study of the faith that, even when innumerable spirits later erupted, that doctrine remained unshaken and unconcussed; but your fervor also manifested itself openly, in that in thirty, and not even complete, days, you accepted the seeds sown by him so accurately that you transmitted the roots to the depths of your mind, and yielded to no subsequent temptation brought against you thereafter.
A 2. It is worth while not to pass by what occurred during that very persecution. For when the governor of the city was driving his chariot and setting out through the middle of the forum, with that holy man seated beside him, a blizzard of stones was being hurled from all sides at the head of the governor. The city could not endure the separation, choosing rather to fall from its present life than to see that holy man torn away. What then did that blessed one do at that moment? Upon seeing the stones being hurled, he cast his own garments around the governor and hid his head, by this act simultaneously shaming his enemies with the magnitude of his gentleness, and teaching his own disciples how much forbearance one ought to show toward those who commit injuries; and that not only is it proper to do no harm to them, but even if danger were to come upon them from others, one ought to repel it with all diligence.
Who was not struck with awe at that time, seeing the frantic devotion of the city, and marveling at the master's extreme philosophy, gentleness, and mildness? For the things that happened then were truly paradoxical. The shepherd was being driven away, and the sheep were not scattered; the pilot was being cast out, and the vessel was not submerged; the farmer was being banished, and the vine was bearing more fruit. For because you were knit together with one another in the bond of love, neither the introduction of temptations, nor the uprisings of dangers, nor the length of the road, nor the passage of time, nor anything else had the power to separate you from the presence of the blessed shepherd; but he was being cast out, so as to be far from his children, yet the opposite occurred. For he was bound to you all the more with the bonds of love; and he took the whole city with him in his heart as he departed for Armenia. For while his body was stationed in his homeland, his understanding and mind, being lightened as if by certain wings of the grace of the Spirit, and dwelling among you at all times, carried this entire populace in his own inward parts, which is exactly what you yourselves were experiencing. For sitting here and being confined within the city, you were flying in spirit by the bond of love to Armenia each and every day, and seeing that holy face, and hearing that sweetest and blessed voice, and so you would return again. And God permitted this cause for him to be expelled from the city immediately, so that, as I previously said, He might demonstrate to the enemies who were fighting against you the firmness of your faith, and his own proficiency in teaching.
And this is evident from what followed. For having returned after the first persecution, he did not dwell here for merely thirty days, but for months, and a year, and two, and even more. For since you had given sufficient proof of your firmness regarding the faith, He granted you the liberty to enjoy your father again. For it was a great joy indeed to enjoy that holy sight. For he was capable of bringing the entire teaching of virtue into the souls of those who looked upon him, not only when he was teaching or speaking, but even when he was merely seen. When, therefore, he was driving toward you, and the whole city was shifting to the road, some would approach and touch his feet, and kiss his hands, and hear his voice; others, hindered by the crowd and only seeing him from afar, as if they had received sufficient blessing from that sight, and having gained nothing less than those who were near, would depart in this manner with full conviction; and what happened in the case of the apostles, the same happened in his case. For just as in the case of the apostles, those who could not approach and be near, when their shadow extended and touched those afar, would draw the same grace and depart healed, so too now, those who could not approach, sensing a sort of spiritual glory being emitted from that holy head and reaching even to those furthest away, would all depart filled with every blessing from the mere sight of him.
B 3. But when it seemed good to the God of all to call him at last from the present life and to rank him in the choir of the angels, even this did not occur simply, but he was called by the Emperor's letters, God having stirred the Emperor; and he called him not to some nearby place, but to Thrace itself, so that the Galatians, and Bithynians, and Cilicians, and Cappadocians, and all who dwell near Thrace might learn of our good things; so that the bishops everywhere on earth, having looked upon his holiness as an archetypal image, and having received from him a clear example of the ministry according to this office, might possess a sure and most clear rule by which it is necessary to manage and govern the Churches. For because of the size of the city and the presence of the Emperor there, many were then streaming together toward that place from all parts of the world; and the bishops of the Churches were all summoned there by imperial letters, because the Churches were receiving a beginning of peace and tranquility after long war and storm.
Then, therefore, he also arrived there. And just as with the three children, when they were about to be proclaimed and crowned, having extinguished the power of the fire, having trampled upon the arrogance of the tyrant, having refuted every form of impiety, the theater was seated for them from the entire world (for the satraps, and consuls, and governors from everywhere on earth were summoned for another reason, but became spectators of those athletes); so too did it happen then, that the theater became illustrious for the blessed one; for they had arrived for another reason, those bishops who manage the Churches everywhere on earth, and they beheld that holy man. And when they had looked upon him, and had accurately learned of his piety, his wisdom, his zeal for the faith, and all the virtue becoming a priest thoroughly completed in him, then God called him to Himself.
And this came to pass also out of restraint for our city. For if he had let go of his soul here, the burden of the calamity would have been unbearable. For who would have endured to see that blessed one breathing his last breaths? Who would have endured to see those eyelids of his eyes being closed, and his mouth being shut as he uttered his final commands?
could [Meletius] have looked upon it and not fainted from the magnitude of the calamity? God provided, therefore, that this should not happen, so that he might breathe his last in a foreign land, in order that, during the intervening time, we might have premeditated this great calamity, so that when we saw the body coming in, we would not be dismayed in spirit, since the mind had already become accustomed to mourning: which is indeed what happened. For when the city received that venerable body, it did indeed lament and wail greatly; but it quickly repressed its mourning, as much for the reason we have already stated as for the one which is yet to be told. B Praise of Bishop Flavian. For the kind and merciful God, taking pity on our sorrow, quickly gave us another shepherd who might accurately reflect his virtues. When he had ascended his chair, he immediately stripped us of our humble and mournful garments and extinguished our grief, but he renewed the memory of the blessed Meletius even more. Though the pain was fading, love was being kindled more vehemently, and the sickness of our spirit was entirely removed—although this does not usually happen in the loss of those who are most dear; for when one has lost a most beloved son, or a woman her honorable husband, as long as she preserves a fervent memory of him, a more vehement mourning occupies the mind; but when the passage of time has settled the mourning, the memory that once flourished is extinguished along with the vehemence of the pain. In the case of this blessed man, however, the opposite occurred: for while the sickness C of the spirit was entirely cast out, the recollection did not depart along with the pain, but instead was augmented more vehemently. You are witnesses to this, who, after so much time, like bees around a honeycomb, swarm around the body of the blessed Meletius; for the cause was not an affection for him born of nature, but the reasoning of sound judgment. Therefore, the memory of Saint Meletius was not extinguished by death, nor did it fade with time; rather, it is increased and receives greater growth, not only in those who saw him, but also in those who did not see him. For this is also wonderful: that those who were younger at the time of his life are also kindled toward the same longing. And you old men indeed surpass those who did not see him in this, that you associated with him and partook of the fruit of his holy fellowship; but those who did not see him surpass you in that, since they never set eyes upon the man, they demonstrate no less longing for him. D Intercession of the Saints. Therefore, let us all pray together, magistrates and private citizens, women and men, old and young, servants and free, taking the blessed Meletius himself as a partner in these prayers. For he has now greater confidence with God, and his love for us is more fervent, so that this charity may be increased for us, and that we all may attain this: that just as we stand here near this ark, so there too we may be near his blessed and eternal tabernacle, and may be able to obtain the eternal goods laid up for us: which may it be granted to us all to obtain, by the grace and clemency of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father be glory and power, together with the Holy Spirit, for ages of ages. Amen.
ADMONITION
That this sermon was delivered on the seventh day of January of the year 587, following the feast of Epiphany, on which he recited the homily *On the Baptism of Christ*, the very beginning of this sermon openly demonstrates: "What I feared yesterday," he says, "has come to pass, and has now been brought to its effect; namely, as the festival has passed, the multitude has departed from us at the same time, and our assembly has become smaller." Compare this furthermore with the beginning of that homily *On the Baptism of Christ*, where Chrysostom begins as follows: "You are all in joy today, but I am alone in sorrow. For when I turn my eyes to this spiritual sea, and contemplate the immense riches of the Church, and then consider that as soon as this solemnity has passed, this multitude will leap back and depart, I am tormented and vexed with sorrow of heart: because although the Church has brought forth so many children, she cannot enjoy them in equal numbers at individual assemblies, but only at the festival." From this it is seen to be clearer than light that Chrysostom held this panegyric concerning Saint Lucian the day after the one he delivered on the baptism of Christ at Epiphany.PANEGYRICAL HOMILY ON THE HOLY MARTYR LUCIAN
1. He inveighs against the sloth of some; he demonstrates the fleeting nature of riches.
has departed, and our gathering has become smaller. And though I knew that this would certainly come to pass, I have not for that reason desisted from my exhortation; for if not all who heard yesterday were persuaded, yet neither were all disobedient; and this is no small matter for our comfort. Wherefore, not even today will I desist from this counsel; for if not through me, yet surely through you, the things said will be heard. For who could bear in silence such sloth on their part, or offer them any pardon or excuse, seeing that they beheld the Mother A after such a length of time, and enjoyed the good things in her, yet departed, and did not endure to return a second time, nor did they imitate the dove of Noah, but rather the raven? And this, while that surge of waves still remained, and that winter, and a tempest being stirred up more grievous with each passing day, while this holy Ark lay in the midst, calling all, inviting them to itself, and offering great safety to those who take refuge in it? B For it wards off not the onsets of waters nor of waves, but the continuous uprisings of the most irrational passions, and it eradicates envy, and suppresses arrogance. Neither will the rich man here be able to despise the poor, hearing from the divine Scriptures that "all flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass" (Isa. 40:6); nor will the poor man, seeing another growing rich, be seized by envy, hearing himself also from another prophet saying: "Be not afraid when a man has become rich, or when the glory of his house is multiplied; for when he dies he shall take nothing, nor shall his glory descend with him" (Psalm 48:17, 18). For such is the nature of this wealth; it does not pass along with those who have it, it does not depart with its possessors, it does not stand by them when they are judged there and rendering account, but it is cut off entirely by death; and many it has abandoned even before death: uncertain is its use, unstable its enjoyment, dangerous its possession. But the things of virtue are not of this kind, nor those of almsgiving; but this treasure is inviolable. Whence is this evident? He who philosophized concerning this wealth, and said that "his glory shall not descend with him," he also instructed us concerning the treasures of almsgiving, which abide forever and are never plundered, by saying thus: "He dispersed, he gave to the poor; his righteousness abides forever" (Psalm 111:9). What could be more paradoxical than this? The things collected are destroyed, and the things scattered remain, and with good reason. For God receives the one, and from the hand of God no one can snatch; but the other is deposited in human C treasuries, where it is exposed to many plots, where there is much envy and malice. Therefore, my beloved, do not neglect your time spent here; for even if some despondency troubles you, here it is put to flight; if worldly cares, they flee away; if irrational passions, they are extinguished; but from the marketplace, and from the theaters, and from the other assemblies outside, we return home dragging along many cares, and despondencies, and diseases of the soul. If you spend time here continuously, and if you store up the blessings you received from the divine Scriptures, you will surely lay aside those evils from without; but if you leap away and flee, you will surely lose the good things you acquired from the divine Scriptures, as your wealth is gradually siphoned off by your outside meetings and discussions. And that these things are true, as you depart from here, strive to see those who were left behind today, and you will see how great is the distance between your serenity and their despondency. There is not so beautiful and charming a bride sitting in the bridal chamber, as is a wonderful and glorious soul appearing in the Church, breathing forth spiritual perfumes. For he who arrives here with faith and diligence departs having received ten thousand treasures; and if he opens his mouth merely, he has at once filled those who are with him with all fragrance and spiritual wealth. And even if ten thousand terrible things befall him, he will bear them all easily, having received from the divine Scriptures sufficient starting-points for patience and philosophy from this place. And just as he who stands continuously upon the rock mocks the waves, so he who enjoys constant gathering, and is irrigated by the divine words, just as if he had placed himself upon a rock of the sound judgment of affairs, will be captured by none of the things of men, having raised himself above the incursion of worldly affairs; and not from counsel alone, but also from prayer, and from a fatherly blessing, and from the common assembly, and from the love of brothers, and from ten thousand other things, having reaped much benefit and consolation, he thus departed, carrying home ten thousand good things. See, therefore, of how much blessing you will partake today, and how great the loss those others will undergo! For you will depart having received the reward of martyrs; but they, in addition to being deprived of this profit, will suffer another loss, dragging along much refuse of cares from their unprofitable pastimes. For just as he who receives a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet's reward, and he who receives a righteous man in the name of a righteous man will receive a righteous man's reward (Matt. 10:41); so he who receives a martyr in the name of a martyr will receive a martyr's reward; and the reception of a martyr is to assemble for his memorial, to share in the narrative of his struggles, to admire what came to pass, to emulate his virtue, to herald his noble deeds to others; these are the gifts for the martyrs; thus does one receive these holy men, just as you have done today.
2. Martyrdom is Baptism. — Yesterday, therefore, our Master was baptized with water, but today the servant is baptized with blood; yesterday the gates of heaven were opened, today the gates of Hades were trampled down. And do not marvel if I called martyrdom a baptism; for here too the Spirit descends with great abundance, and there comes about a destruction of sins and a purification of the soul—a thing wonderful and paradoxical; and just as those who are baptized with waters are washed, so those who bear witness are washed by their own blood.
Chapter 2. Martyrdom is baptism
they suffer, they are washed by their own blood; which indeed happened also in this case. But before A speaking of the slaughter, it is worthwhile to discuss the craftiness of the devil. For when he perceived that he was being mocked by every kind of torture and punishment, and that he had been unable to overcome the saint’s philosophy—neither by setting up a furnace, nor by digging a chasm, nor by preparing a wheel, nor by hoisting him upon the rack, nor by casting him into a precipice, nor by exposing him to the jaws of wild beasts—he devised another, more bitter method. Seeking and roaming about, he tried to find a punishment that would be at once both most bitter and most long-lasting. For just as some punishments, being intolerable, are B such that we are released from them most speedily, while others are more prolonged and take something away from the pain, he strove to find a punishment in which there would be both together: a longevity and an excess of intolerable pain, so that both the vehemence and the length of time might break down his constant spirit.
Lucian is tormented by hunger; he rejects the idol-offerings. What, then, does he do? He exposes this holy man to famine. But when you hear of famine, do not pass by what is said carelessly; for it is the most bitter death of all, as those who have experienced it testify—may it be far from us to experience it; for we have been rightly taught to pray, "Do not lead us into temptation" (Matt. 6:41). For, like some executioner sitting within our very vitals, it tears all the limbs apart, consumes the body from every side more cruelly than any fire or wild beast, and inflicts a continuous and inexplicable pain. And that you may understand how great a thing famine is, mothers have oftentimes devoured their own children, not being able to bear the violence of this evil. And the prophet, lamenting this calamity, said: "The hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children" (Lam. 4:10). They were eating those whom they had borne, and the womb of the mother, which had given birth, became the tomb, C and famine overcame nature; or rather, not nature only, but also the will: yet it did not overcome the nobility of this saint. Who, then, upon hearing these things, would not be confounded? Yet what is more powerful than nature? What is more changeable than the will? But that you may know that nothing is more valid than the fear of God, it was revealed that the will is something more vehement than nature, so that it conquered mothers and made them forget their offspring; yet it could not supplant this holy man, nor did the torture overcome his philosophy, nor did the punishment overcome his fortitude: but he remained firmer than any adamant, and solaced himself with good hopes; he boasted that he had obtained the material for his struggles, and from the opportunity offered by the contests he found consolation, especially hearing Paul say daily: "In hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness" (2 Cor. 11:27); and again, "To this very hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted" (1 Cor. 4:11). For he knew, he knew well that saying: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God" (Matt. 4:3).
But when the wicked demon saw that he was not broken by such need, he rendered the torture D more severe; for having taken idol-sacrifices, and having a table filled with them, he caused it to be placed before his sight, that the opportunity of using them might infringe upon the strength of his mind. For we are not so wont to be ensnared when the things by which we are allured do not appear, as when they are set before our eyes; since one would more easily overcome the desire for women while not seeing a beautiful woman, than if he were often to fix his eyes upon her. Nevertheless, the just man overcame these snares as well, and what the devil thought would break his fortitude, this the more corroborated and instructed him for the contests: for not only was he not harmed by the sight of the idol-sacrifices, but for this reason he was the more opposed and hateful toward them. And just as we are affected toward enemies, whom, because we see them, we pursue and avert ourselves from with so much the greater hatred: so also was he affected at that time toward that impure victim; he detested and fled from it the more, because he saw it, and the appearance of the food set before him excited in him greater hatred and aversion: and while famine clamored loudly within, and urged him to taste the things spread before him, the fear of God checked his hands, and caused him to forget his very nature; and while he looked at the polluted and execrable table, he remembered another table, the dreadful one and filled with the Spirit, and he was so inflamed that he decided he would rather endure and suffer anything than taste those impure foods. He remembered also the table of the three children (Dan. 1:8), who, taken as youths and destitute of all patronage, showed such philosophy in a foreign land and a barbarian region that to this very day their fortitude is celebrated. And the Jews indeed, while they possessed their own land, were impious toward God, and while they moved about in the temple, they worshipped idols: but those youths, translated to a barbarian land, where there were idols and every occasion for impiety, perpetually retained their paternal rites. If therefore captives, slaves, and youths before the law of grace brought forth such philosophy, he says, what excuse shall we be worthy of, if we are not able to arrive at the same virtue as they?
He laughed at the devil’s malice; he despised his craftiness; he was not entangled by any of the things he saw. But after that wicked one saw that he was accomplishing nothing, he led him back again to the tribunal, and with tortures applied, he questioned him frequently: but he answered to every interrogation only, "I am a Christian," and to the torturer saying, "From what country have you sprung?" he said, "I am a Christian"; "What craft do you profess?" "I am a Christian"; "Of what parents were you born?" But he said to everything, "I am a Christian," striking the head of the devil with this one and simple word, and inflicting upon him continuous and successive wounds. Although he indeed had been imbued with external disciplines, yet he well knew that in contests of this kind there is no need of eloquence, but of faith; not of a faculty of speaking, but of a soul inflamed with the love of God. One word, he says, is sufficient to put all the devil’s troop to flight. And it seems indeed to those who do not examine the matter accurately that the answer is inconsistent—if anyone…
however, should consider it more attentively, he will perceive from this also the wisdom of the martyr. For he who said, "I am a Christian," therein declared both his native land, and his race, and his profession, and everything. How, I say? A Christian has no city on earth, but the Jerusalem above; for "the Jerusalem above," he says, "is free, which is our mother" (Gal. IV, 26). A Christian has no earthly profession, but belongs to the polity above; for "our citizenship," he says, "is in heaven" (Phil. III, 20). A Christian has as his kin and fellow-citizens all the holy ones; for "we are fellow-citizens of the saints," he says, "and members of the household of God" (Ephes. II, 19). So, in one word, he taught with precision who he was, and whence, and of whom, and what was his manner of life. And with this voice he ended his life, and departed, bearing the deposit safe to Christ, and leaving behind exhortation to those who came after, through what he suffered, to stand firm, and to fear nothing, save only sin and denial.
Moral exhortation.—Knowing these things, then, let us also, in the time of peace, practice the things of war, so that when the time of battle arrives, we too may set up a brilliant B trophy. He despised hunger: let us also despise luxury, and pull down the tyranny of the belly, so that if the time should come that demands from us such bravery, being pre-exercised in smaller things, we may appear brilliant in the contest. He spoke with boldness before rulers and kings: let us do this now also, and if we are sitting in the assemblies of wealthy and illustrious pagans, let us confess the faith with boldness, and mock their error. And even if they attempt to glorify their own [ways] and tear down ours, let us not be silent, nor bear it mildly, but uncovering their indecency, let us sing the praises of Christian things with much wisdom and boldness; C and just as a king [wears] the diadem upon his head, so let us carry the confession of faith everywhere about us. For the crown does not so adorn him as the faith and the confession of it is accustomed to adorn us; and let us do this not only by words, but by the deeds themselves, and by displaying through everything a life worthy of that confession, so that we may not put the doctrines to shame by the vileness of our works, but by everything glorifying our Master, may we enjoy honor both here and there; which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father be glory, D power, and honor, together with the holy and life-giving Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
ADMONITION
It is sufficiently certain whether one should stand by this calculation. One thing we can say without danger: that this book was written by Chrysostom around the year 382, though we do not dispute it if someone publishes it a few years before or after. Hermantius, who thinks this book is a sermon delivered to a gathering of the people, wishes to assign it to the year 386, when he was most recently ordained; for as Chrysostom himself testifies, he had not delivered a sermon before he was a presbyter. But, as we were saying above, this book bears no sign of having been a sermon delivered to the people, and it is of such length that it could not have been recited at a single session. Furthermore, who would believe that he would have delivered that extremely long refutation of Libanius, which occupies almost half the book, in a gathering of the people? So much for the timing.
The argument of the book is the history of the martyr S. Babylas, bishop of Antioch, told in a declamatory style with figures of speech; and while we believe that S. Babylas was slain by Christ, there is no doubt that the nature and cause of his martyrdom are set forth by Chrysostom based more on rumors among the people than on the true history of the events. For who, I ask, was that Christian Roman Emperor who, having initiated a barbarian peace with the king, having accepted his son as a pledge of peace upon the condition that he educate the son for himself, suddenly slaughtered him, and for that reason was debarred from the entrance to the church by the blessed Babylas, and ordered the same prelate to be hauled off to prison and beheaded? Some scholastics or librarians say this Emperor is Numerian. What nonsense! For to call the Christian Numerian—or the murderer of the son of some barbarian king given to him as a pledge of peace—is at odds with true history. Nor is it more credible in certain Acts edited by Bollandus on January 24th, where Numerian is introduced as a worshiper of idols, attempting to lead S. Babylas into impiety, and then afflicting him and the boys with the glory of martyrdom: these things certainly cannot refer to our Babylas. Hence the question arises whether there are several of the same name. See Bollandus on this matter in the *Acta SS.*, January 21st. It is therefore probable that the Emperor being remembered is Philip, who, having arrived at Antioch in the time of Pascha after he had achieved his ends involving the invasion of Gordian Augustus, approached the church intending to be a partaker of the mysteries. Learning of this, S. Babylas barred the Emperor, who was approaching, from entering the church, and ordered him to take his place in the area for penitents until, having washed away and expiated his crimes through penance, he would later be received into the communion of the faithful. Eusebius narrates that Philip bore this rebuke from the holy prelate with a grateful heart and acted with modesty, having gone to the place of penitents, and then later, having confessed his crime according to the statutes of the Church, having performed the required penance, he was admitted into the church. But under the Emperor Decius, the enemy of Christians, B. Babylas gave his neck for Christ. That Philip’s penance and his Christianity are narrated by Eusebius not as a certainty, but as something heard from some others, and is considered doubtful by many. See those who have treated this matter more extensively from established sources. It is probable, however, as I was saying, that the story concerning Philip’s execution of Gordian came from that history which we mentioned above from Chrysostom; but it is so garbled and distorted in all its parts that it seems to be an entirely different story.
Far more sound are the accounts recorded by Chrysostom regarding the relics of S. Babylas from the suburb of Daphne to the city of Antioch, and also of the temple of Apollo miraculously touched and burned. For of these, not only was Chrysostom an eyewitness, but so were all his listeners, whom he addresses in his homily. He also mentions this miracle in his homily as well as in the book on Babylas.
The Latin translation of the homilies is by Fronton Du Duc. We have prepared a new translation of the books on Babylas and against Julian and the Gentiles, as that of Germanius Brixius, which was in the earlier editions, was entirely a paraphrase.
ON THE HOLY HIEROMARTYR BABYLAS
1. A I had wished indeed to render the debt today which I promised to you recently when I was here; but what am I to do? The blessed Babylas appeared, intervening, and called us to himself, not by uttering a voice, but B by...
lamp of the countenance having turned us around. Do not, therefore, fret at the deferral of the repayment; for in every case, by as much as the time becomes longer, by so much does the interest increase for you. For we shall pay out this money with interest; since the Master who deposited it A commanded it so. Confiding, therefore, in the things lent, as both the principal and the profit remain yours, let us not pass over the gain that has fallen our way today, but let us feast upon the righteous achievements of the blessed Babylas. Now, how he stood at the head of the Church among us, and saved this sacred ship in winter, and turbulence, and surge, and how much boldness he displayed before the king, and how he laid down his soul for the sheep, and received that blessed slaughter— these things, and such as these, we shall leave to the older of the teachers and to our common father to tell. For those who have reached old age among you are able to recount the older events well; but those things which have happened recently, and in our own lifetime, these I, the younger, shall narrate to you—I mean those after the departure, those after the burial of the martyr, when he was living in the suburb. And I know indeed that the Greeks will laugh at our promise, if we claim to speak of the virtuous deeds of one who was buried and dissolved into dust after his departure and burial; yet we shall not be silent for this reason, but for this very reason we shall speak, so that by demonstrating the truth of this paradox, we may turn their laughter back upon their own heads. For indeed, the virtuous deeds of a man, simply speaking, could not occur after his departure; but of a martyr there could be many and great ones, not so that he might become more brilliant (for he has no need of glory from the multitude), but so that you, the unbeliever, may learn that the death of martyrs is not death, but the beginning of a better life and the precursors of a more spiritual walk of life, and a passage from the lesser to the better things. For do not look upon this—that the martyr's body lies bare and destitute of soul-activity; but observe this—that another power, greater than he, sits beside it, the grace of the Holy Spirit, which pleads for everyone concerning the resurrection through the things it works by miracles. B For if God has granted to dead bodies, and those dissolved into dust, a power greater than all the living, much more will He grant to them a life better than the former, and more blessed at the time of the crowns. What, then, are his virtuous achievements? But do not be troubled if we lead the discourse a little further back. For those who wish to display paintings well, having removed the viewers a little distance from the panel, thus uncover them, making the sight clearer to them by the distance. Bear with it, therefore, you also, as we draw the discourse back. Since Julian, having surpassed all in impiety, ascended to the kingly throne and took hold of the sovereign scepter, straightway he lifted his hands against the God who had made him, and he did not recognize his Benefactor, and looking from the earth below up to heaven, he barked like the maddest of dogs, which cry out equally against those who do not feed them and those who do feed them—or rather, he raged with a madness wilder even than theirs. For they both distance themselves from and hate their own kith and kin and strangers alike; but this man fawned upon the demons who were strangers to his salvation, and served them by every manner of worship; but the Benefactor and Savior, who did not even spare His Only-Begotten for his sake, he spurned and hated, and he ridiculed the Cross, the thing which raised up the world lying prone on its face, and dispelled the darkness from every side, and introduced to us a light brighter than the sun’s rays. And not even there did his madness stop, C but he promised to snatch the nation of the Galileans from the midst of the world—for thus he was accustomed to call us. And yet, if he thought the name of Christians to be an abomination, and that the matter was full of much shame, for what reason did he desire to shame us not from that, but by a strange name? But he knew clearly that being called by one’s kinship to Christ is a great ornament not only to men, but also to angels and to the powers above. For this reason he moved everything, so that he might rob us of this ornament and dissolve the proclamation. But this was impossible, O wretched and miserable one, just as it was impossible to tear down the heaven, and to extinguish the sun, and to shake and cast down the foundations of the earth. And Christ proclaimed these things beforehand, saying thus: Heaven and earth shall pass away; but My words shall not pass away (Matt. 24. 35). But you do not endure Christ speaking; therefore, accept the voice from the facts themselves. For I, having been deemed worthy to know what an ordinance of God is, how strong and invincible a thing it is, and that it is more trustworthy than natural consequence and the experience of all things, have believed it to be so; but you, who still drag yourself upon the ground and are fluttered by the examination of human reasoning, accept the testimony from the facts; I do not gainsay or contend.
2. What, then, do the facts say? Christ said that it is easier for heaven and earth to be destroyed than for any one of his words to fall away (Luc. 16. 17): the king spoke in opposition to these, and threatened that he would destroy the dogmas. Where, then, is the king who threatened such things? He has perished, and is corrupted, and is now in Hades awaiting the inescapable punishment. And where is Christ, who declared those things? In the heavens, at the right hand of the Father, holding the highest throne of glory. Where are the king's blasphemous utterances, and his licentious tongue? It has become ash, and dust, and food for worms. Where is Christ's decree? It shines from the very truth of the facts, flashing forth as if from a golden pillar of the outcome of works. And yet the king did not then omit anything, intending to wage the war against us; but he also called on augurs, and assembled sorcerers, and everything was full of demons and evil spirits. What, then, are the rewards of this service?
On the Relics of St. Babylas.
A What, then, were the rewards for this cult? The destruction of cities, and a famine more bitter than any other kind of famine. For you know and remember how the market was filled with goods for sale, and the workshops were full of turmoil, while everyone strove to seize and depart with whatever they first encountered. But why do I speak of famine, when even the springs themselves were bereft of water—springs whose abundance of flow surpassed the rivers themselves? But since we have happened upon the mention of the springs, come now, let us ascend to the suburb of Daphne and turn our discourse to the glorious deeds of the martyr. Indeed, you seek to divulge the shameful and disgraceful acts of the Gentiles, yet we shall also bring them into the light in this way: for whenever the martyrs are mentioned, the shame of the Gentiles becomes known there as well.
When the Emperor had ascended to Daphne, he kept tiring Apollo with prayers, soliciting and beseeching him to prophecy something for him concerning future events. What, then, does that great god, the seer of the Gentiles, say? "The dead hinder me," he says, "from speaking; but break open the caskets, dig up the bones, move the dead." What could be done more wicked than these commands? He introduces unusual laws for the plundering of sepulchers, and devises new modes of driving away guests. Who ever heard of the dead being cast out? Who has seen a soul-bereft body ordered to be driven from its resting place, just as he commanded here, overturning the common laws of nature from their foundations? For these are the common laws among all mortals: that whoever has completed life should be committed to the earth, consigned to the grave, and wrapped in the bosom of the great mother of all. And these are laws that not even a Greek, not a barbarian, not a Scythian, nor anyone more savage than them, has ever violated; but all honor and observe them, and they are so sacred as to be worthy of veneration by all.
But the demon, having cast off the mask, openly opposes the common dogmas of nature: for, says he, the dead are a pollution. The dead are not a danger, O most wicked demon, but a depraved will is a thing to be abhorred. But if something worthy of admiration is to be mentioned, the living are rather full of wickedness, while the bodies of the dead are not objects of detestation; for the latter indeed serve the commands of the soul, while these lie immobile. That which is immobile and bereft of all sense is usually free from all accusation. Although, for the rest, I would not say that even the bodies of the living are by nature abominable—rather, it is everywhere the depraved and perverse will that is subject to the indictments of all.
B
He upbraids the attempted rape of Daphne by Apollo.
It is not the dead body that is a pollution, O Apollo, but to pursue a maiden who wishes to live chastely, to offer rape to a virgin’s purity, and to mourn at being repelled from an impudent act—this is what is worthy of accusation and punishment. Indeed, many wonderful and great prophets have arisen among us who have prophesied of future things, yet nowhere did they command those by whom they were consulted to dig up the bones of the dead; nay, Ezekiel himself, standing near the very bones (Ezech. 37), was not only hindered by nothing from them, but he even clothed them with flesh, nerves, and skin, and brought them back to life. But the great Moses did not stand near dead bones, but took up the body of Joseph in its entirety (Exod. 13. 19), and thus prophesied of the future; and rightly so. For the words of the former were the gift of the Spirit, but the words of the latter were fraud and lies, which can be hidden by no logic. That these were nothing other than a pretext and a screen, and that the blessed Babylas had struck fear into him, is sufficiently evident from the things done by the Emperor: for leaving all else aside, he moved only that martyr from the spot. Although, if he abhorred him—and did not rather fear him—these things would have been handled by him differently: the casket should have been broken, cast into the sea, sent into the wilderness, or ordered to be destroyed by some other kind of perdition; this would have been the act of one who truly abhorred him. Thus God acted when He spoke to the Hebrews concerning the abominations of the Gentiles: He commanded their statues to be broken, not for the impurities to be moved from the suburbs into the cities.C Now the martyr was indeed moved from his place; however, the demon, while he enjoyed security in that way, yet immediately learned that while the bones of the martyr could be moved from the spot, the hands of the martyr could not be avoided. For as soon as the casket was drawn to the city, a lightning bolt from heaven struck the head of the statue and consumed everything. Indeed, if he had not been angry before, at that point it was proper for the impious Emperor to be angry and to pour out his wrath upon the martyrium of the martyr—yet not even then did he dare! So great a fear had occupied him; rather, even though he saw the intolerable fire and well knew the cause of it, he remained quiet. Nor is it only to be wondered at that he did not overturn the martyrium, but that he did not even dare to place a roof on the temple again. For he knew, he knew that the disaster had been sent by the Divinity, and he feared that if he devised anything further, he would bring that fire down upon his own head. Therefore, he endured seeing the temple of Apollo so desolate; nor was there any other cause for why he did not repair what had happened, except for fear alone, which forced him against his will to keep quiet; and this while he knew how great an ignominy it left to the demon, and how great an honor to the martyr.
For the walls now stand as trophies, and they send forth a voice louder than a trumpet; and to the inhabitants of Daphne, to the inhabitants of the city, to those who come thither from distant regions, to the men of this age and of future times, they tell all by their very appearance—the struggle, the engagement, the victory of the martyr. For whoever is located far from the suburb, when he has gazed upon the martyrium stripped of the casket, and the temple of Apollo deprived of its roof, it is likely that he will ask for the cause of the state of both; and then, having learned the whole history, he will depart thus. Such are the glorious deeds of the martyr after his death. Wherefore I also praise your city, because you have shown much zeal toward this saint. For at the time when Daphne was returning, our whole city poured out onto the road; the marketplaces were empty of men, the houses were empty of women, the marriage-chambers were abandoned by the virgins; so D
and all ages, and both sexes rushed out of the city, as if to receive a father returning from a long journey. And you indeed restored him to the choir of his peers; but the grace of God did not permit him to remain there perpetually, but moved him again across the river, so that many of the places might be filled with the sweet fragrance of the martyr. And not even upon coming here was he to be alone, but quickly he received a neighbor and house-sharer of like character. For he shared with him in the same office, and displayed an equal boldness for the sake of piety. Wherefore he also obtained the same tent for him—not in vain, as it seems, this marvelous zealot of the martyr. For he spent so much time there, continually writing to the Emperor, troubling the magistrates, and bringing the service of his body to the martyr. For you know, surely, and remember, that when the summer sun held the sky in the middle of the day, with those attending him, he would walk to that place every day, not just as a spectator, but remaining as a participant in what was happening. For he often took hold of a stone, and pulled a rope, and where some building work was needed, he obeyed before those who were doing the work; for he knew, he knew how many rewards would be laid up for him for these things. And because of this, he continued to care for the martyrs, not only with splendid buildings, nor with successive festivals, but with this better way. And what is this? He imitates their life, he is zealous for their courage, by all means according to his ability he preserves the image of the martyrs in himself. For look: they gave their bodies to the slaughter; he mortified the members of the flesh which are upon the earth. They stood against the flame of the pyre; he extinguished the flame of desire. They fought against the teeth of wild beasts; but he also quelled the most grievous of the passions within us, anger. For all these things, let us give thanks to God, that He has granted us such noble martyrs, and pastors worthy of the martyrs, for the perfecting of the saints, for the building up of the body of Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, honor, power, together with the holy and life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
A DISCOURSE ON BLESSED BABYLAS AND AGAINST JULIAN AND AGAINST THE GENTILES
1. A Our Lord Jesus Christ, being about to proceed to His Passion, and to die the life-giving death on that very last night, having called His disciples apart, He discussed many other things and exhorted them; and among other things He said something like this to them: *Amen, amen I say to you, he that believeth in me, the works that I do, he also shall do, and greater than these shall he do* (John 14. 12). And yet many other teachers existed, and had disciples and displayed wonders, as the sons of the Greeks boast; but nevertheless, no one of them ever dared to think of, or to say, any such thing. Nor could any of the Greeks, even if they were shameless in everything, show such a challenge or saying laid down among them; but that many of their wonder-workers show phantoms of the departed and certain apparitions of the dead, many claim, and that some voices were brought to some from graves, they say; but that any of the men who lived and were admired among them, or whom they considered to be gods after their death, said anything like this to their own disciples, none of them could ever assert. B And if you wish, I will tell the reason why, in all other things shamelessly and with barefaced lying, they never dared to fabricate anything of this sort. For it was not simply, nor without some reason, that they refrained from this device, but those destroyers saw craftily that one who is about to deceive must have some plausible things, and things full of much cleverness, and it is necessary to construct things that are not easily detected. For it is the habit of the skilled hunters of both fish and birds not to offer the traps bare—but having surrounded them on all sides completely with bait, thus to overcome the prey of both kinds. If they, having uncovered them, offered them thus to those who were about to be caught, neither fish, nor birds would ever have come within those nets; rather, they would not even have approached them in the beginning, but each would have gone home with empty hands, both the sea hunter and the land hunter. C Since, then, it was their purpose to ensnare men, they did not cast their deception bare into the sea of life, but having fabricated and composed the things that are able to catch the more senseless, they refrained from going further with the lie, fearing the excess, and fearing lest by the immoderation of the second things they should also undo the former. For if they had said that someone among them had promised such a thing as our Savior said to His disciples, even those who had been deceived by them would have ridiculed them, as not having been able to lie even plausibly. For to both foretell such things and to fulfill them with truth belongs only to that blessed power. But if demons were ever able to show some phantoms to the deceived, it was when the source of light was not yet known to the many. And even then it was shown from the very start that the things being performed were the works of demons, by their other deception and by these sacrifices themselves. D For to order their own altars to be reddened with human blood, and to command the people who sowed such things to slaughter sacrificial victims, what excess of madness would that not hide? For those who were never sated by our calamities, nor knew any limit or end of the war against us, but were always raging with immortal madness, as if it were not sufficient to satisfy their anger to spill human…
[LATIN COLUMN]
CAPUT I.
A ...and, so that it might not be enough to satisfy those people that women and little children should be sacrificed in place of sheep and oxen at their altars, they devised a strange lawlessness of human slaughter and introduced an unheard-of mode of calamity. For those whose place it was to mourn the slaughter of the slain, they persuaded to offer themselves up to undergo that miserable slaughter; and so that not only should the laws set down by men be violated, they also utterly destroyed the very laws of nature, contriving that nature should war against itself, and introducing into the life of man the most wicked of all slaughters. For no enemies were then feared by all as much as parents; and those whom one most ought to trust, these they suspected and shunned above all others. B Indeed, those abominable demons, through the very things by which God had led them to a contemplation of this world, were eager to cast them down from such a gift, while they constituted those who had provided them with life the authors of its death, wishing to declare that they had obtained nothing further from the goodness of God; as if they had no need of other executioners than their parents. Now, even if some great miracle had followed these events (I do not say that it was "shown," for that was a small and worthless matter, and full of much deceit); but even if truly great things had been performed, those very things I have mentioned are able to demonstrate, to those at least who are not out of their minds, what kind of people were doing such things—how disgraceful, how wicked, who would attempt nothing that did not tend to the subversion of us and our station.
Chapter 2: Christ bestowed blessings even upon the Gentiles.
C But our Lord Jesus commanded no such thing to us; but since He is wonderful on account of his miracles, and no less admirable for his precepts than for his signs, He is rightly adored by all and believed to be God. For He Himself, by His arrival, broke this impiety; and what is more wonderful, He delivered from that wild and savage tyranny not only us, who adore Him, but even those who attack Him with blasphemous words. For no Gentile has henceforth been compelled to sacrifice such offerings to his own demons; such, indeed, is the kindness He has used toward our race; and God has bestowed upon His enemies greater goods than the demons did upon their friends. For the demons compelled those who worshipped and honored them to slaughter their own children; but Christ D took care to make His adversaries free from these precepts, and He bestowed the immunity from a bestial ministry, and this wonderful peace, not only upon His own, but also granted it to strangers; showing that those tyrants were enemies and corruptors of our race; wherefore they even used those who adhered to them as if they were strangers—for they were indeed strangers in truth. But He was the King, Creator, and Savior of the whole human race; and therefore, He spared those who were strangers to Him as if they were His own. And indeed, the human race was His own handiwork, just as His disciple says: "He came unto His own, and His own received Him not" (John 1:11). But to recount His entire mercy toward us is not for the present time; but even if one were to speak of it through all the ages, and even if one had as much power as it is fitting for those incorporeal powers to have, not even so could one attain to it according to its worth. For how good He is, He alone knows, since He alone is so good. See, therefore, what words He brings forward to His disciples: "Amen, amen I say to you, he that believeth in me, the works that I do, he also shall do, and greater than these shall he do" (John 14:12), unless He were endowed with immense goodness. That if someone in doubt should ask us where this oracle had its end, having taken up the book which is called the Acts of the Apostles, which contains the acts, not of all, but of one or two, and not so many of them, he will see the sick lying on their beds, and that the shadows of those blessed men by touch alone restored health; and that many who were raving were freed by the garments of Paul alone from the demon that was agitating them. But if anyone says that these things are a trick and an incredible fabrication of portents, even those things which are seen now are sufficient to shut and confound his blasphemous mouth, and to restrain his unbridled tongue. For there is no region in our world, no nation, no city, where these miracles are not celebrated; which, if they were indeed fabrications, would not be held in admiration. Of which matter you yourselves can offer testimony; for we shall have no need to borrow faith from elsewhere, since you, our enemies, have provided it. Why, I ask, do many know that Zoroaster and Zamolxis not even by name, or rather, only a very few know them? Is it not because all things that were said about them were fabrications? Although both they and those who conspired in them are said to have been serious men; they indeed in discovering and exercising prestige, but these in shading with the false color of words. But these things are brought forward in vain and to no purpose, when the very argument itself is found to be depraved and fallacious; just as, on the contrary, when it is certain and true, all things that are devised by enemies to overthrow it fall away in vain; for the strength of truth needs no aid; but even if there be countless ones who try to extinguish it, it is not only not destroyed, but it emerges even more splendid and sublime through the works of those who attack it, and it mocks those who torture and rave in vain.
For our things, which you say are fabrications, both tyrants and kings and sophists invincible in speech; likewise philosophers and prestige-workers and magicians and demons have cared to destroy. "And their tongue is weakened against them" (Ps. 65:9), according to the prophetic speech, "and the arrows of children have their wounds become" (Ibid. v. 8). For kings from the snares built against us have gained only as much as was sufficient to provide for themselves a reputation for a bestial spirit among all; for on account of the anger they took up against the martyrs, raging against our common nature, they rendered themselves, in their ignorance, subject to six hundred reproaches. But philosophers and acute rhetoricians, having a great reputation, some for probity, some for eloquence among many, after the battle joined against us, became the objects of ridicule, and seemed to differ in nothing from trifling children.
...and of so many peoples, they could not persuade even one wise man, or one foolish one, or a man, or a woman, or even a little child. Indeed, the ridicule in what they have written is so great that their books perished long ago, and as soon as they were shown, most of them were destroyed. If any surviving copy were found anywhere, one might find it preserved among Christians; so far are we from fearing any harm from their plots, that we laugh at all the fuss of their devices. For if our bodies were made of adamant and were incorruptible, we would not have feared if we had been clenching scorpions, serpents, and fire in our hands, but we would have even displayed them; nor, since Christ has fashioned our souls and our faith in such a way, have we feared the poisons of our enemies. For if we have been commanded to tread upon serpents and scorpions and all the tyranny of the devil 540, how much more upon worms and beetles? For such is the distance between the harm of the latter and the plot of that wicked demon.
3. Chapter III.
A And such are our affairs; but as for yours, no one has ever made war upon them. For it is not permitted to Christians to destroy error by necessity and force, but rather to work for the salvation of men by persuasion, by reason, and by gentleness. Whence no emperor among those who hold the opinions of Christ has ever laid down such doctrines against you as those who worshipped the demons thought up against us. But yet, having enjoyed such peace, and never having been molested by anyone, the error of Hellenic superstition was extinguished by itself and collapsed, just as bodies given over to a long wasting disease, even with no one harming them, rot away of their own accord and, little by little, dissolve and vanish. So that if this satanic ridicule has not been completely wiped from the earth, the things that have already happened are enough to guarantee the future for you as well. For the greatest part having been torn down in so short a time, no one will compete over what remains. For, a city having been captured, walls having been brought low, and council chambers, theaters, and walkways having been burned down, and all those of age having been slain, would anyone who saw a few half-burned colonnades and the standing parts of a few houses, together with old women and little children, dispute with the conqueror and the one who had overcome the greater part, as if he were unable to accomplish the rest? But the things of the fishermen are not like this, but flourish every day, and that too not by any broadness and ease introduced into our life, but through afflictions and wars and battle. For Hellenism, having spread over every part of the earth and taken hold of the souls of all men, was later, after such strength and growth, abolished by the power of Christ; but our preaching did not have those who fought against it only after it had already been spread everywhere and stood firmly, but before it was even planted and sown in the souls of those hearing it, from the very beginning it was compelled to be arrayed against the whole inhabited world: against principalities, against authorities, against the world-rulers of the darkness of this age, against the spiritual forces of evil B (Eph. 6. 12). For since the spark of faith had not yet been well ignited, rivers and abysses were flowing in from everywhere. You know, I suppose, that it is not the same thing to pull up a plant that has taken root for a thousand years, and one just placed in the earth; but even with matters in such a state, the sea of the adversaries, as I said, was flooding the spark of piety while it was still small; yet it not only was not extinguished by this, but, having become greater and more brilliant, it quickly advanced against all things, easily destroying and consuming the things of the enemies, while rebuilding the things of its own, and raising them to an ineffable height, even though men who were lowly and obscure served it. C The reason for this was neither the words nor the miracles of those fishermen, but the power of Christ working within them. For of those who accomplished these things, the one, Paul, was a tentmaker, and Peter was a fisherman, and it would never have occurred to men so lowly and humble to invent anything of the sort, unless one were to say they were mad and out of their minds. But that they were not mad is clear from what they achieved after having spoken, and from those who are still today persuaded by them. Therefore, they would never have lied about such things, nor would they have boasted simply. For, as I said at the beginning, he who intends to deceive lies indeed, but he does not lie in such a way as to become manifest to everyone. For if, even when the events have taken place and so many bear witness to the end—both those who believed in those times and those who have sung these things everywhere since that time, not only among us but also among the barbarians and those even more savage than them—there are some who, after such proofs and the testimony of almost all the inhabited world, disbelieve what has happened, and many do so without inquiry or examination; who would have accepted this faith in his soul at the beginning, having neither seen the events nor having credible testimonies of them? And why in the world would they even have been prompted to invent and construct anything of the sort? For they did not rely on the strength of words (for how could they, when one of them did not even know letters at all?), nor on the abundance of wealth; for they could barely afford the necessary food, both of them living by the work of their hands. D But they also could not take pride in the brilliance of their birth, for we do not even know who the father of the one was, he was so obscure and unknown. As for Peter, his father is known, but he has as much more than the other as the Scriptures have made his name known to us, and this only because of his son. And if one should wish to examine the region and the nation, he will find one to be a Cilician, and the other to be a citizen of an obscure city, or rather not even a city, but a very remote village; for Bethsaida of Galilee is a place so called, from which that blessed man came. And one hearing of their trades will see that they have nothing great and venerable; for the tentmaker is more honorable than the fisherman, and he is [...]539 S. JOANNIS CHRYSOSTOMI ARCHIEP. CONSTANTINOP. it went out, boasting the same things about his own garments: what listener was so bereft of his senses as to place faith in such things based on mere words? Why did no A craftsman of that time say something similar about himself, or another say it about him? And yet, if our own affairs were fabrications, it would be likely that those who came later would have found it easier to tell similar lies. For the earlier ones could not rely on the example of others who had preceded them to have hope in the success of a fabrication; but these later ones, looking to them, would have dared a fiction more easily, since the example of the former provided confidence to the latter, as if there were no one on earth possessed of a mind, but all were out of their minds and insane, so that it might be permitted for anyone to say whatever he wished about himself and persuade others. These are trifles indeed, and worthy of laughter are the words of Gentile folly. For just as if someone wished to attack the heavens with arrows, B as if he were going to tear them apart with weapons; or to drain the Ocean, as if he were going to empty it with his hands, there is no one among the more sensible who would not laugh, and no one among the more serious who would not deplore it with shed tears: so, when the Gentiles contradict us, it is right to mock and deplore them; for they undertake a task more difficult than one who might hope to be able to pierce the heavens or empty the abyss. For neither will light ever be darkness so long as there is light, nor will the truth of our affairs be refuted: for it is truth, than which nothing is stronger. That those ancient things, which we grasp by hearing, are no less credible than those we now behold as present, any person not bereft of his senses and insane might confess; but so that we may refer the victory even more fully, I shall relate an admirable event that took place in our own age. But do not be troubled if, having promised to narrate a miracle C performed in our own age, I start my narration from ancient history: for I shall not stop merely at those events, nor shall I refer to alien ancient things for a new argument: for both cling to one another, nor is it permitted to disjoin their sequence, as you will discover upon hearing the events. What emperor in the era of our ancestors, who I cannot say what he was like in other respects; but upon hearing of the wickedness which he dared to undertake, you will recognize the remainder of his savage, inhuman ways. What, then, is that wickedness? When a certain nation was waging war with him, it seemed best to dissolve the war and put an end to mutual slaughters, to settle matters, to calm dangers and fears, to remain content with their own affairs, and not to seek anything greater; for it is better to enjoy moderate things without fear than, gaping after greater ones, to live D always in dread and terror, and while inflicting evils upon others, to receive them in turn from them. But when it had been decided by them, now that the war had been utterly laid aside, to pass a quiet life, it seemed best to stabilize the peace with a firm treaty and strong conditions. Then, the covenant having been made, and an oath having been given and received, they furthermore tried to persuade their king to allow his own son, who was a mere boy, to be handed over as a sure pledge of peace to those who had previously been enemies, so as to provide confidence, and at the same time to exhibit a testimony of his own intention, that indeed he had made peace with them without any guile. The king, being persuaded by this speech, gave his son—to those whom he truly believed were friends and allies; but as the outcome of the matter proved, to the most inhuman of all beasts. For when he had received the royal boy under the law of friendship and treaty, he trampled and overturned everything at once: oaths, covenants, the reverence of men, piety toward God, and the pity of his tender age; neither did the youth of that 540 beast bend him, nor did the vengeance that is wont to follow such crimes deter the savage man; nor did the words of the father who was giving up his son enter his soul—words he had spoken while handing him over, begging him to hold him in great care, establishing himself as a father to him as if he were born of himself, beseeching him to nourish and educate him in such a way, and to render him worthy of the nobility of his ancestors; amid these words, he joined the hand of the boy to the hand of the homicide and departed, drenched in tears. That most wicked of men took none of this into his heart, but having cast all of these aside at once, he perpetrates the most inhuman of all butcheries. For this atrocity is more atrocious than the slaughter of one's own son: I call you as witnesses, who would not have been so grieved—if indeed it is permitted to measure your own A affection—as if you had heard that he had killed his own son: for then, the natural law also would seem to be subverted along with the common law; but here many things concurred at once, which by their multitude are stronger than natural necessity. For as often as I reflect upon the little boy, who had done no injury, handed over by his father, abducted from the kingship of his ancestors, who had exchanged domestic delights, glory, and honor for a foreign upbringing, so that the wicked man might be confident in the pacts that had been made; and subsequently treated badly by him, deprived of the splendor of his father's house for his sake, and finally killed by the same—I suffer contrary emotions, simultaneously withering and burning in my soul, of which the one is spawned by anger, the other by sadness. For when I think of that wicked man armed, brandishing his sword, B seizing the boy by the neck, and applying the sword to the very place where he had received him with his right hand, I am torn apart and suffocated with anger; again, when I behold the youth fearing, trembling, wailing with his final gasps, calling upon his father and saying that he was the cause of these things, and imputing the slaughter not to him who was driving the sword into his throat, but to his parent, and being able neither to flee nor to defend himself, but in vain accusing his parent, receiving the blow, palpitating, striking the pavement with his heels, staining the earth with bloody streams: my very vitals are torn asunder, my thought is darkened, and a certain mist of sadness is spread over my eyes. But that beast felt nothing of the sort, but as if he were an innocent lamb, or a calf being slaughtered, so was he affected toward that nefarious butchery. And the boy, having received the blow, lay dead: C the homicide, however, was patronizing his own crime, taking care to cover up his prior deeds with subsequent ones. Perhaps someone thinks I am going to speak of the burial, and say that the murderer did not grant the deceased even the smallest bit of earth; but I, indeed, shall say something more atrocious. For when he had defiled his wicked hands with such blood, and had exhibited a new tragedy, as if he had perpetrated nothing...
at all—so shameless and harder than the very stones was this man—he hastened toward the Church of God. A Perhaps some may wonder why he was not struck by a heaven-sent blow for daring such things, or why God did not cast down a thunderbolt from above to burn up that shameless face before his entry. But if any have pondered this thought, I praise them and wonder at their fervor, yet I say that they fall short in a matter that is not small for this wonder and for the praise due. For they truly felt just indignation for the child who was slain lawlessly and for the laws of God that were thus insolently insulted; but boiling with anger, they did not perceive all that they ought to have perceived. For there is another law of this righteous Judge, lying far higher in the heavens. What then is this law? Not to bring punishment upon those who have sinned immediately, but to grant the offender time and a deadline, so that he may cast off his offense and, through repentance, become equal to those who have committed no evil—which God also showed at that time toward that wretched man. But nothing more came of it, and he remained uncorrected. B Yet the Lover of mankind, foreknowing even this, did not disregard him, nor did He cease doing His part: He Himself even visited him in his sickness and did what was needed for his recovery. But that man did not wish to receive the medicine; nay, he even struck the physician sent for this purpose. The medicine and the manner of this healing were as follows:
6. Babylas excludes the Emperor from the entrance of the Church
At that time, when this harsh and pitiable drama was being dared, a man who was great and wonderful (if one must call him a man) happened to be in charge of the flock among us; his name was Babylas. This man, therefore, having been entrusted at that time with the Church of Christ here by the grace of the Spirit, I would not say that he surpassed Elijah and his emulator John—lest the saying appear too burdensome—but he attained such a point as not to fall short even a little of the freedom of speech of those noble men. C For he did not expel from the Church a tetrarch of a few cities, nor the king of one nation, but the very man who held the greatest part of the entire world, this very man-eater, who possessed many nations, many cities, and an infinite army, and who was in every respect formidable—both from the greatness of his rule and from the audacity of his ways—just like some worthless slave of no account. [545] He expelled him with such composure and fearlessness as a shepherd would ward off a sheep filled with mange and suffering from the flock, preventing the disease of the infirm one from passing to the rest. And he did this, confirming by deed the word of the Savior, that only he who commits sin is a slave, even if he should have ten thousand crowns upon his head and seem to rule over all men upon the earth; while he, who is conscious of nothing evil within himself, even if he be numbered in the rank of subjects, is more kingly than all kings. D Immediately, therefore, the subject commanded the ruler, and the subject judged him who ruled over all, and brought forth the sentence condemning him.
But you, while hearing these things, do not pass by the statement lightly; for even the announcement of this fact—that one who was under his rule drove the Emperor from the porches of the Church—is enough to rouse and strike the soul of those who hear. But if you wish to learn the whole wonder accurately, do not merely pay attention to the word, but imagine the guards, the shield-bearers, the generals, the rulers, those nourished in the royal courts, those placed over the cities, the arrogance of those going before, those following, the crowds who swarmed about, and the rest of the train. Then [imagine] him in the middle, advancing with much stateliness, appearing more august from his garments, from the purple, from the stones scattered everywhere about his right hand, about the joint of the cloak, and from the rays flashing from the diadem upon his head. And do not stop the image even at this, but extend it also to the servant of God, the blessed Babylas, to his humble appearance, to his plain attire, to his contrite soul, and to his spirit stripped of audacity; and having thus depicted and opposed both, then you will know the wonder well; or rather, not even then will you grasp its precision. For no speech or sight could represent that freedom of speech, but only experience and the use of it. C And the bearing of the noble soul could be known well only by that man who could attain to the same pinnacle of freedom of speech as he. For how did the old man approach? How did he cut through the guards? How did he open his mouth? How did he speak? How did he rebuke him? How did he plant his right hand upon the chest that was still boiling with anger and seething with murder? How did he thrust away the murderer? Nothing of what was happening struck him [with fear] and knocked him from his purpose. O fearless soul and high intellect! O heavenly mind and angelic bearing! For as if seeing all that spectacle painted upon a wall, so the noble man did all things undaunted. For he had been instructed [546] by divine dogmas that all the affairs of the world are shadow and dream and lower than these. For this reason, nothing of these things made him quail, but rather gave him more courage. For that sight sent his intellect from the things seen onward to the King above, who sits upon the Cherubim and looks upon the abysses, to the glorious and high throne, to the heavenly army, to the myriads of angels, to the thousands of archangels, to that terrible tribunal, to that impartial judgment, to the river of fire, to the Judge Himself. For this reason, having wholly transferred himself from the earth to heaven, as if standing before that Judge and hearing Him command that the defiled and polluted one be thrust from the sacred flock, thus he cast him out and separated him from the rest of the sheep, and turned to none of the things that were seen and that seemed to be formidable, but having thrust him away most manfully and nobly, he stood by the laws of God that were being tyrannized. And yet, with what great freedom of speech was it likely that he used toward others? For he who approached the ruler with such authority, whom of the remaining would he have feared? I conjecture that man—or rather, I do not conjecture, but believe—that he would neither do nor say anything for favor or for hatred, but would stand nobly and manfully even against fear, and against flattery more powerful than this, and against other such things (and human affairs are many), and would not corrupt even a little of his upright judgment. For if a man's attire, and the laughter of teeth, and the gait of a foot reveal the things about him, much more are such great achievements sufficient to demonstrate to us the virtue of the rest of his life: for one ought not to admire him for his freedom of speech alone, but also for having extended the freedom of speech even to that point, and for not having added anything further to it.
For such is the wisdom of Christ, that it permits not to struggle either too little or too much, but preserves moderation in all things. And yet, he A could have proceeded further, had he wished. For he who had cast aside all care for this life (since he would not have approached at all, had he not armed himself with such thoughts) had the power to do everything: to splash the Emperor with contumely, to tear the diadem from his head, and to strike his face with his fists, when he thrust his right hand against his chest. But he did none of these things; for he had an B anima seasoned with spiritual salt. Therefore, he did nothing rashly or in vain, but all things with the right judgment of reason and in a saner manner—unlike the sages of the Gentiles, who are never moderate, but everywhere, so to speak, show their confidence either more or less than is proper, so that they never obtain for themselves a reputation for courage, but everywhere for irrational passions; where they fail, they are convicted by all of cowardice; where they exceed, of arrogance and vainglory. But not so that blessed man; for he did not do what came into his mind rashly, but having examined everything accurately C and having fitted his thoughts according to the divine laws, he thus conducted them to the deed. And so he did not make the incision merely on the surface, lest the greater part of the affected member remain, nor deeper than was right, lest by the excess of the wound he corrupt the health; but having tempered the wound to the disease, he thus applied the best medicine. Hence, I would confidently pronounce him to be free from anger, sloth, arrogance, the desire for vainglory, hatred, fear, and flattery.
Moderation in all things.
But if one needs to say something unexpected: I do not so much admire that blessed man for having dared to repress the fury of the Emperor, as that he understood the extent to which he ought to do this very thing, and neither did nor said anything beyond it. That this is more admirable than the other is shown by the fact that many can be found who, while they have done the former, could not manage to perform the latter. For any D person can often speak with freedom; but to perform that same act at a suitable time, in a suitable manner, with moderation and prudence, is the mark of a great and admirable soul. For blessed David was assailed with insults by Shimei with great confidence, and was called a man of blood (2 Kings 16:7); yet I would not call that freedom of speech, but rather an intemperance of the tongue and audacity of mind, a contumacy, an arrogance, and anything rather than freedom. For it is right, I think, for one who is about to rebuke to abstain most of all from audacity and arrogance, and to demonstrate his power only in the nature of his words and actions. For when physicians must resect putrid limbs and compress those that are inflamed, they do not approach the medicine full of anger; but they strive most of all to keep their thought in a convenient state, lest the agitation of the soul harm the art. But if he who desires to heal the body has need of such tranquility of soul, what must we determine should be done by the physician of souls, and how much philosophy shall we require in him? Far greater, of course, and as much as that martyr exhibited. For by setting before us certain terms and rules, as it were, so that we might measure the manner of acting in other things by a certain proportion from them, he thus repelled the unhappy man from the sacred threshold. And it might seem that only one work was then rightly performed; but if one examines it and weighs it accurately on all sides, he will find a second and a third inherent in it, and he will discover a great treasure of utility. For he who was then being rejected was but one; those who derived profit from it were many. For in his empire, which comprised the greatest part of the world, as many as were unbelieving were stunned and marveled when they learned how much boldness of speech Christ had implanted in His servants, and they mocked their own illiberal and abject slavery; they saw how great a difference there was between the nobility of Christians and the turpitude of the Gentiles. For they, among those who are entrusted with the care of sacred things, worship Emperors more than masters, more than their own idols, and through fear of them they sit by their statues, so that the malignant demons have the favor of the honor bestowed upon them by the Emperors. And so, when it happens that an Emperor is created who does not agree with them in religion, if anyone should enter the temples of the idols, he will see everywhere on the walls the webs of spiders stretched out, and the statue covered with so much dust that neither nose, nor eye, nor any other part of the face appears; but only the remains of the altars, with the greater part broken off, survive; and they are otherwise surrounded on all sides by such dense vegetation that one who does not know they are altars would think them a heap of refuse. The cause of this matter is that formerly it was permitted to them to purloin whatever they wished and to indulge their belly through the worship of statues: but now, for what reason should they torment themselves? For sitting by and wearing themselves out, they expect not even the least reward from them; for they are wood and stones. But what induces them to feign worship is the honor which the Emperors show them; yet even that has been taken away, when the Emperors are wise and adore the Son of God.But our affairs are not in this state, but in the exact opposite. For when someone who agrees with us in religion approaches the imperial throne, the affairs of Christians become more sluggish: so far are we from being lifted up by human honors; but when someone who is impious, clearly hostile to us, and inflicting countless evils upon us, holds the empire, then our affairs flourish and become more splendid, then is the time for rewards and trophies, then is the occasion for crowns, for praises, and for the exhibition of fortitude. And if anyone says that even now there survive cities that show equal worship regarding the insanity of idols, first of all he will count few, but yet he will not even by this reason hinder my words: for the same hypothesis remains, and the citizens have someone instead of the Emperor who offers them equal honor. And the causes of this worship are bouts of drunkenness and revels, both diurnal and nocturnal, pipes, drums, the most shameless freedom of speaking basely, of doing things more base, of gorging themselves with food until they burst from drunkenness, of debauching themselves, and of collapsing into the most foul insanity: these most shameful expenditures now hold back and foster the failing error. For the more opulent, having been chosen by those who are perishing from hunger through sloth...
...and to the status of parasites and those fed around tables do they relegate them, tearing apart their shameless bellies with the leftovers from lawless banquets, and using them for whatever purposes they might desire. We, however, having once and for all abjured our irrationality and lawlessness, do not feed those who are idle and on that account are compelled to hunger, but we persuade them to work so that they may be able to provide for themselves and for others; to those who have become disabled in body, we permit them to partake of necessary bread alone from those who have. Revelry and drunkenness and every other remaining madness and obscenity have been cast out; in their stead have been brought in things that are venerable, things that are pure, things that are just, things that are of good report—if there is any virtue and if there is any praise. A And the other things which those among them boast about the philosophers, he has shown to be a vanity and insolence and the works of a childish mind. For he did not take a jar and shut himself up in it, nor did he go about the market wearing rags. For these things indeed appear to be something marvelous, and to entail much labor and the utmost misery, but they are utterly devoid of any praise. I ask you, not to overshadow the truth: what city, what household, what man, what woman did he save? Speak of the profit of that freedom of speech; for we have shown that of the martyr, and proceeding further, we shall reveal it more clearly. B And this, too, is a product of the devil’s malice: to surrender those who serve him to such labors, which both tear apart those who are deceived and render them, above all others, objects of mockery; for labor that has no profit is devoid of all commendation. For even now there are people, destroyers, and filled with a myriad of evils, showing off things far greater than the philosopher; for some have eaten sharp and whetted nails, while others have chewed and swallowed footwear; and others have devised things far more wretched than these, although such things are far more marvelous than the jar and the rags. But we do not accept them, just as we do not accept those [of the philosopher], but we equally condemn the philosopher, and we weep for both these men and all who likewise represent such things in vain. C But he also showed great freedom of speech toward the king. Let us therefore look at this "great freedom of speech," lest it should happen to be even more foolish than the charlatanry of the jar. What, then, was the freedom? When the Macedonian was riding out against the Persian, standing near him and urging him to tell if he needed anything, he said he needed nothing except that he not block the sunlight from him; for the philosopher happened to be warming himself in the sun at that time. Will you not be ashamed? Will you not cover yourselves? Will you not go off and bury yourselves somewhere, priding yourselves upon these things for which you ought to be ashamed? D For how much better it would have been to put on a substantial garment and be productive, and to ask the one ruling at that time for something useful, rather than to sit warming himself with rags, like the little infants at the breast, which nurses, after having washed and anointed them, set out for the very thing where the philosopher was sitting at that time, asking for the sake of a wretched old woman? But perhaps the freedom of speech is marvelous? But there is nothing more monstrous than this. For it is incumbent upon a good man to do everything for the common good, and to correct the life of others.
Chapter 9
Meanwhile, he punished the offender, and in the manner that it is lawful for a priest to punish, he suppressed the arrogance of the magistrates, he defended the laws of God when they were being violated, he demanded punishment for the one who was evilly slaughtered—a punishment that is the most severe of all to those who have understanding. A You surely remember, when I was discussing the murder, how each of the listeners was heated, and desired to take the assassin into his hands, and prayed that the one who would avenge the murder might appear from somewhere. This, therefore, that blessed one did, and he imposed a penalty upon him—not asking the king to stop blocking his sunlight, but [punishing him] for leaping insolently into the sacred precincts and confounding everything, driving him away from the master’s courts like some dog and an ungrateful servant. See how not boasting I spoke, that he showed the wonders of the philosophers among you to be the works of a childish mind? But that man of Sinope was also chaste, and passed his time in continence, and did not tolerate marriages according to the law. But how and in what way? He adds: "But you shall not add," but you will more willingly deprive him of the praises of continence than tell the manner of his continence; so shameful and filled with much disgrace was it. B I would have gone through the drivel, and the vain toil, and the obscenity of the others as well; for tell me, where is it useful to taste human offspring, which the Stagirite practiced? Or what benefit is there in having relations with mothers and sisters, which the philosopher who presided over the Stoa laid down as law? And I would have shown the one who initiated the Academy, and that one’s teacher, and those who are admired even more than these, to be more shameful still, and I would have unveiled the pederasty, which they set down as being honorable and a part of philosophy, stripping away all allegory, if our discourse were not extending to such a great length, and hastening toward another part, and had it not sufficiently refuted the laughter of all through this one example. For when the one who prevails, according to what seems to be the more austere part of philosophy, because of his freedom of speech and continence, is thus shown to be shameful and absurd and superfluous, and of such a sort that everyone is shown to be ridiculous and childish and mindless, what account shall we have left for the others? C For this reason, let us return to where we left off in stating these things. The blessed one thus constrained the unbelievers, and he rendered the believers more pious—not only the common people, but also the soldiers and the generals and the prefects, showing that the king, and the one who is last of all, are but names among Christians, and that the one who wears the diadem will be nothing more venerable than the least, when there is need for punishment and correction. D Moreover, to those wishing to act shamelessly and to make a certain fabricated boast about the things among us...
stopped the mouth of those who said such things, proving the confidence of the apostles through his deeds, and teaching that it was fitting for such men to exist, when the exhibition of signs afforded them greater authority. There is a third achievement, which is not minor: for he depressed the spirits of those who were to be future priests and kings, and exalted those of others, declaring that the priest is a more true steward of the earth and the things that are done upon the earth than one who is clothed in purple, and that it is necessary not to diminish the greatness of this authority, but rather that the soul should divest itself, rather than the authority which God has allotted to it from above. For he who dies in this way is able to help all even after death; but he who has abandoned this order, not only is of no benefit to anyone after death, but even while living makes many of his subordinates softer, and becomes A despicable and ridiculous before outsiders; and, moreover, departing hence with great shame and grief, he will be set before the tribunal of Christ, whence the powers appointed for this purpose will drag him into the furnace. Wherefore a certain wise man exhorts: Do not accept a face against your own soul (Eccli. iv. 26). But if it is not safe to dissemble when a man is treated unjustly, who, when the laws of God are violated, is silent and negligent—what punishment will he not deserve? Along with these things, he also taught something else, no less good than these: that it is necessary for each person to perform his own duty, even if no profit whatsoever stems from it to others; for he himself did not gain anything from his freedom of speech for the utility of the emperor, yet he fulfilled everything that was within his power, and left nothing undone.
B And through these things he indeed dissolved their power, while feeding the strength of sin; thus, indeed, many have fallen into every kind of sin, not heeding [the danger], since they did not quench the flame at the beginning; thus that wretched man added worse things to the former. For after he had destroyed that youth, he proceeded from murder to inflicting injury upon the temple, and again proceeding by this way, he girded himself to show arrogance against the priesthood, and having bound the holy man in iron and cast him into prison, C he was thus avenging himself, demanding punishment for his benefit—which, when he ought to have admired, crowned, and honored him more than his parents, he compelled him to undergo the bonds and the miseries of bonds of evildoers.
The Martyrdom of Saint Babylas
Now he who was suffering from the disease, by his own arrogance rendered the skill of the artist useless, removing the medicine from the wound with great fury. For as if it were not enough to have committed murder, and to have impudently leaped into the temple of God, he added a second murder to the slaughter, and as if contending to surpass the former deeds with the latter, and to obscure the preceding diseases by the magnitude of the following ones (for such is the insanity of the devil, that he prepares contraries at the same time), he gave to both slaughters this distinction, so that they might have a certain correspondence with each other. D And the former slaughter of the boy was indeed more miserable than the second, but the second was more wicked than the former—that is, the slaughter of the holy Babylas. For a soul that has once tasted sin and is mindless adds much increment to the disease. And just as a spark, falling into an immense mass of material, immediately sets fire to what it meets, neither does it stop here, but immediately consumes what remains, and the more things the flame takes hold of, the greater strength it receives for the destruction of the rest, and the abundance of wood that is gained becomes insidious for those that are soon to be inflamed, with the flame always arming itself against those things that are soon to be consumed; thus also is the nature of sin, where it has occupied some thought of the soul, and there is no one to extinguish the evil, having progressed further, it becomes heavier and more indomitable; and therefore later sins have generally been stronger than the former—the soul always, by the addition of subsequent sins, choosing greater arrogance, and being unable to be restrained or contained once it has been led into its first arrogance and evil, with no one forbidding it from progressing to what is further, just as furious horses, having cast off the reins from their bodies, and with their riders thrown off and left supine on the ground, are very troublesome to those who meet them, and with no one curbing them, they cast themselves into precipices with an unchecked rush. Therefore the enemy of our salvation casts souls of this kind into insanity, so that he may seize and destroy them, deserted and with no one caring for them, and surrounds them with countless evils. For those who are sick in body, as long as they allow themselves to be approached by physicians, have great hope of health; but when, having fallen into phrensy, they kick and bite those who wish to deliver them from the disease, then indeed they are incurably ill, not so much because of the nature of the disease, as because they have been deserted by those who could have liberated them from their fury.
Into which fury this man, of whom we are speaking, cast himself; for having seized the physician, while he was still healing the wound, he immediately expelled him, and drove him as far as possible from his house. And it was possible here not only to hear the drama of Herod, but to behold the deed done with greater insolence, because the devil introduced that drama again into the theater of the world with greater ostentation and preparation, constituting the person of the Emperor in place of the tetrarch, and in place of one cause, offering a double argument of the matter—that one far more shameful; so that it was a much more famous tragedy not only in number, but in the very nature of the things themselves. For here, not as there, were marriages violated, nor was this history woven by the evil one from illegitimate coitus, but from the pollution of the wicked slaughter of a child, from a most cruel tyranny, and from the iniquity displayed not toward a woman, but toward holiness itself. 555 Cast therefore into prison, the blessed man rejoiced indeed in his bonds, but grieved over the destruction of the author of the bonds; for neither father nor teacher—when the former in the crime or calamity of the son, the latter of the disciple, become more famous—take pleasure free from sorrow from that fame. Wherefore the blessed Paul said to the Corinthians: We pray that you do nothing evil, not that we may appear approved, but that you may do what is good, and we may be as reprobate. Thus indeed
the disciple’s salvation was more desired by him then than his own rewards from the prison, and that the disciple should have been made temperate, so as to be stripped of these praises—or rather, that he had not fallen into this perversion in the first place. For the saints do not desire their crowns to be woven from the misfortunes of others; and if they do not desire them from the misfortunes of others, much less do they desire them from the evils befalling their own kin. For this reason, even the blessed David wept and lamented after his trophies and victory, because it had come about together with his son's misfortune; and he gave many orders to the generals marching out on behalf of the tyrant, and restrained those who were eager to kill him, saying, “Spare the young man Absalom” (2 Sam. 18.5); and when he had fallen, he mourned, and called back his enemy with groans and bitter tears.
If, then, a natural father is so affectionate, much more so is the spiritual one. For that spiritual parents are more concerned for their children than carnal ones, hear Paul saying: “Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended, and I do not burn?” (2 Cor. 11.29). And although this presents to us an equality—and even though fathers would scarcely utter this voice, nevertheless, let it be granted that they reach even this point—it is necessary to demonstrate something even greater. Whence, then, shall we demonstrate this? From the same inner gut-felt compassion, and from the words of the Lawgiver. And what does he say? “If you forgive them their sin, forgive; but if not, blot me out of the book which you have written” (Ex. 32.31-32). No father would choose, while he might enjoy ten thousand goods, to be punished along with his children; but the Apostle, having conducted his life in grace, and having made this tenderness of his affection intense on account of Christ—for he did not choose to be punished along with them as the other did, but in order that it might be possible for others to be saved, he himself prayed to be destroyed, saying: “I have prayed to be anathema from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh” (Rom. 9.3). Such is the compassion and sparing care in the souls of the saints. Whence this man’s innards were even more lacerated, seeing the king’s perdition proceeding further. For he was not acting merely out of being stung on behalf of the youth, but was also bowed by his goodwill toward him. For although the one was insulting the service of God, he harmed that nothing at all, but he burdened himself with ten thousand evils.
A 11. Babylas is beheaded; he orders his chains to be buried with his body: the cult of relics. Therefore the father who loved his child, seeing the insolent man pushing himself over precipices in his rage, was eager to withstand his irrational rush, like some ill-bridled horse, hastening to drive him back through rebuke. But that wretched man did not allow it; instead, B having bitten the bit and resisted, and having surrendered himself to rage and madness instead of right reason, he cast himself into the chasms of ultimate perdition; and he brought the saint out of the prison and ordered him to be led off to death, in bonds. And—the ways of the world were turned upside down! The one in bonds was being released from all bonds at once, both those of iron, and those even more severe—I mean of cares and toils, and all the other things that surround us during this perishable life. But the one who seemed to be released of both iron and adamant was wrapped in C burdens and heavier chains, being tightened by the chains of his sins. Therefore, as that blessed man was about to be beheaded, he ordered his body to be buried with the iron, showing that things which seem ignominious are, when they happen on account of Christ, honorable and brilliant, and that the one suffering ought not only not to be ashamed, but to take pride in them; and in this, he imitated the blessed Paul, who turned his stigmata, his bonds, and his chains, up and down, boasting and thinking of them as great, while others were ashamed of them. That they were ashamed, he himself made clear to us through the apology he made to Agrippa. For when he was saying, “In a little you persuade me to become a Christian,” Paul said, “I would to God that, both in a little and in much, not only you, but also all who are present, might become Christians, except for these bonds” (Acts 26.28-29); he would not have added this if the matter did not seem ignominious to the many. For the saints, being eager servants of the Master, accepted the sufferings on behalf of the Master with much readiness, and became more radiant through them. And one says: “I rejoice in my sufferings” (Col. 1.24); and Luke speaks these same things regarding the rest of the chorus of the Apostles: for after many lashes, they departed, he says, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to be dishonored for the name of Christ (Acts 5.41). So that none of the faithless might think the contests are of necessity and gloom, he orders the very symbols of the contests to be buried with his body, showing that he treasured and loved them greatly, because of his hanging D exceedingly upon the love of Christ. And now the fetters lie with the ashes, exhorting all those placed over the Churches, that if it should be necessary to be bound, and to be slaughtered, or to suffer anything at all, they should endure everything readily and with great pleasure, so that we might not betray or shame even the smallest part of the freedom entrusted to us. And that blessed man thus brilliantly ended his life; but perhaps someone thinks that we also end our discourse here; for after the end of life there is no longer room for virtuous deeds or gallantry, just as it is impossible for athletes to have crowns woven after the contests have passed. But the Greeks indeed reasonably think these things, because they closed their own hope within the bounds of the present life; but we, for whom the death here becomes the beginning of another brighter life, we stand away from this suspicion and opinion. And that we do so justly, we shall demonstrate more clearly in another discourse; but for the time being, the things accomplished by the noble Babylas after his end are sufficient to provide great faith to the discourse. Since, because he contended for the truth until death, and stood against sin, fighting even unto blood, and so as not to abandon the rank in which the great King had set him, he released his soul, and died more brilliantly than any champion, Heaven did indeed possess him, but the earth [possessed] the body that had served toward his championship, and the creation divided the athlete between itself. And yet, it was possible [even] for him to be translated like Enoch, and to be snatched away like Elijah, whom he emulated; but God, being a lover of humanity and giving us ten thousand ways to be saved, distributed to us this path along with the others, sufficient to encourage us toward virtue, having left the relics of the saints with us for the time being. For after the power through the Word,
secondary rank, after the power of speech, to awaken into the same zeal the souls of those who behold them. A And if anyone, upon arriving at this place, takes such a perception of this operation, he immediately receives a clear sense of it. For the very sight of the casket falls upon the soul, striking and awakening it, and it acts upon it just as if the one lying there were praying along with him, and were standing by, and were seen to be present. Then, the man who has been so moved is filled with deep eagerness and, becoming a different man from what he was, departs from there. One might also learn this well: that the phantom of those who have departed from this place is generated in the souls of the living, by those who are mourning. We see that they, upon arriving at the tombs of the dead, stand there as if they saw those who are lying in the tomb standing before them, and immediately recall them from the threshold. Many, indeed, being affected by an intolerable grief, have established their permanent dwelling near the tombs of the dead, which they would not have done if they had not perceived some consolation from the sight of the place. And why do I speak of the place and the tomb? For often the sight of the garment alone of those who have departed, or a single word recalled to the mind, has awakened the soul and brought back a failing memory. B And these are the reasons why God has left us the relics of the saints.
XII. And that I am not now speaking these things merely by way of boasting, but that they have actually occurred for our benefit, the miracles performed by the martyrs every day are enough to confirm the account, as well as the multitude of men who thus flock together, and no less than these, the glorious deeds of this blessed man even after his decease. For since he was buried as he had requested, and a long time passed after his burial, so that naught but bones and dust remained in the coffin, it seemed good to one of those who reigned after, that the casket should be brought to this suburb of Daphne: and it seemed good to God, Who moved the mind of the Emperor for this matter. For when He saw the place obsessed by the lasciviousness of the youths, as if by a certain tyranny, so that there was a risk of it being completely abandoned by more respectable men, and by those who wished to live uprightly, He was moved to mercy by such a loss, and sent one to avenge the insult. For God had made that place pleasant and desirable, in the abundance and beauty of its waters, and in the nature of the soil and the temperate climate, not only that we might be refreshed therefrom, but that we might also celebrate the supreme Architect on account of this. C Furthermore, the enemy of our salvation, who always abuses God’s gifts in the opposite direction, seeing the place occupied by a crowd of corrupt youths and the dwellings of demons, abused its reputation with a foul fable, because of which fable the suburb was being consecrated to the demon. But the fable is of this sort.
The History of Daphne: They say that she was a maiden, and the daughter of the Ladon river; for it was a custom for those erring ones always to represent rivers as begetting, for they introduce the offspring thereof as something inanimate, and invent many such monstrous things. They say that Apollo once saw this maiden, being very beautiful, and was captivated by her love; and that as he pursued her to take her, the maiden fled, and stopped in this suburb. Then they say that her mother rendered aid to her daughter, that she might not suffer injury, and immediately received the virgin into her wide-open bosom, and brought forth a plant of the same name in place of the girl; and the lascivious lover, cheated of his amours, embraced the tree, and made both the plant and the place itself his own: and that from thenceforth he always abides in the place, and prefers it to all others that are in the world, and cherishes it above all. D They say also that the king who was then reigning constructed a temple and an altar, that the demon might be able to console his insanity through this place. This is the fable; but the damage that arose from the fable was no longer a fable. For after the lascivious youths contaminated the beauty of the suburb, as was said, living there in revellings and drunkenness, and so that this evil might be propagated day by day, the devil invented the fable, and set the demon there, so that this history might prepare a greater conflagration of lasciviousness and impiety for them.
To remove such great evils, therefore, the Emperor devised this most wise method, to transfer that holy one, and to send a physician to the sick. For if he had forbidden the citizens the way to the suburb by imperial order and authority, it would have seemed tyrannical, nay, full of cruelty and savagery; but if he had permitted only the good and modest to approach, while closing the path to the lascivious and intemperate, the decree would have been full of difficulty, whence it would have been necessary for quarrels to arise daily, while the life of each individual was being investigated. Thus he believed that the presence of the holy man would bring the best solution to these evils: for he understood that a martyr was equal to dissolving the power of the demon and amending the luxury of the youths: nor was he deceived in his hope. For immediately as someone arrives at Daphne, and sees the martyr’s shrine from the threshold of the suburb, he is restrained, just as if some youth in a banquet were to see a tutor standing by, and by his eye commanding him to drink, eat, speak, laugh, and take care that he does not exceed the measure and dishonor his reputation: and becoming more religious from such a sight, and representing that blessed one to himself in his mind, he immediately hastens to the casket; and when he has arrived there, he is affected with greater fear; soon, with cowardice driven far away, having become, as it were, winged, he departs. And those whom he meets on the way ascending from the city, he sends back, recreated, to Daphne with like temperance, almost shouting out that voice: *Exult in the Lord with trembling* (Ps. II, 11), and adding that apostolic saying: *Whether you eat, or whether you drink, or whatever else you do, do all to the glory of God* (1 Cor. X, 31). But those who go down to the city having taken food, if it happens that they have acted more loosely with the bridle shaken off, and have fallen into excess and absurd delights, them, I say, he does not allow, when they are received in their inn while drunk, to depart home affected by the damage of drunkenness, but with fear struck into them, he leads them to the same temperance which they were observing before they delved into drunkenness. For indeed, a certain thin breeze, as it were, blows through those who have been at the shrine from every side; a breeze, I say, not sensible or fit for increasing the body, but which penetrates into the soul itself, and composes it decently from every side, and shears off every earthly weight, and refreshes the burdened and falling one, and makes it lighter.
13. And the beauty of Daphne indeed calls even the more slothful to itself; but the martyr, sitting as if in a fishing-net and lying in wait for those who enter, holds them there for a time, and having first composed them, thus lets them go—not in order to have them use the beloved for insult, but for propriety. For since some people, by reason of sloth or worldly cares, are unwilling to approach the shrines of the martyrs, God has ordained that they be snared in this way, and so enjoy the healing that is in the soul; and it becomes like a case where someone might manage to deceive a sick person, who is unwilling to accept beneficial medicines, by hiding the medicine in some sweet seasoning. B By this means, therefore, they are healed over time, to such a degree that for many, not only the pleasure itself, but even the longing for the holy one becomes an excuse for going up to the suburb; or rather, the more moderate ones come there for this reason alone, and those less than them for both, and those who are even more imperfect than these go up for the sake of the pleasure alone. But when they arrive, the martyr, having called them and feasted them with his own gifts, and having armed them well, leaves them to suffer no harm. C And it is equally wonderful that which happens there: for someone who was heavy and slothful to become sober, and as it were to be brought back from the midst of madness, or for someone who has fallen into a furnace to suffer nothing from the fire. For when the flame—that is, youth, and irrational boldness, and wine, and repletion—is pressing more severely upon the thoughts, the grace from the blessed one, descending through the eyes into the soul of the beholders, lulled the flame, and halted the conflagration, and instilled much reverence into the mind. And the tyranny of lewdness the blessed one thus dissolved; but how did he also extinguish the power of the demon? D First, by making his very waiting and the harm from the myth useless to him in these things, and later by actually driving the demon away. But before I tell of the manner of the expulsion, I ask you to note this: that he did not drive him out immediately upon coming up, but made him who remained useless, and gagged him, and rendered him more speechless than stones; for to overcome him while he was remaining was no less a feat than to expel him. And he who previously deceived everyone everywhere did not even dare to look at the dust of the blessed Babylas: so great is the power of the saints, whose shadows or garments even the living do not bear, but the dead also cause their shrines to tremble. So if someone disbelieves the things that happened through the apostles, let him, looking at present events, finally cease his impudence. For he who long ago was defeating all the things of the Greeks, being rebuked as if by a master by the martyr, ceased his barking, and uttered nothing. 14. For indeed at first it seemed that he was silent for this reason—because he was not sharing in the sacrifices and the other treatment. For such is the way of the demons: when they are nurtured by the savor, and the smoke, and the blood, they arrive like bloodthirsty and gluttonous dogs, ravening; but when there is no one to provide these things, they perish as if by a certain famine. As for the sacrifices and the disgraceful rites that were performed—for the mysteries are nothing else but strange loves, and injuries to boys, and corruption of marriages, and the overturning of homes; for I pass over now the base manners of the murders and the feasts more lawless than murders—yet while these things were being performed, they were present and rejoiced, even if they who performed them were evildoers, or sorcerers, or plagues; or rather, there are no others who are ministers of these things. For a sober and moderate and grave man would not endure the banquet and the drunkenness, nor would he utter a disgraceful word himself, nor hear any other acting so shamelessly. B And yet he should have, if he were concerned for human virtue and had a slight regard for the well-being of those who were present to him, sought nothing more than the best life and the correctness of morals, and dismissed all that shameful feast. But since nothing is more precious to them than the destruction of men, they both delight in and claim to be honored by these things which destroy our life, and drag up all good things by the roots. 14. C That he was silent in the first place, therefore, also seemed to be for this reason, but he was convicted afterwards, being fettered by a strong necessity. For the fear that compelled him, lying upon him like a certain bridle, prevented him from using his accustomed deception against men. Whence is this clear? But do not be disturbed; for I shall proceed to the proof itself, after which it will not be allowed even for those who have practiced being impudent to do so, whether concerning those ancient matters, or the power of the martyr, or the weakness of the demon. For I do not need to make this clear by some conjectures and probabilities, but I will provide the testimony of the demon himself concerning these things. For he himself has given you the timely blow, and has cut off all your boldness. But do not be angry with him; for he did not cast down his own things willingly, but was doing this as he was compelled by a greater power. D How, then, did this happen, and what was the manner? Upon the death of the emperor who had translated the martyr, he brought forward his brother to take in hand the rule, who had also formerly given him that honor; and this man receives the kingdom without the diadem: for such was the measure of the authority of the brother who had died. Being a sorcerer and a profane man, he at first feigned to think the thoughts of Christ, because of him who had given him the rule; but when this one also departed this life, having cast off the mask henceforth, with bare head, he brought into the midst that superstition which he had long concealed, and made it manifest to all, and orders were sent everywhere in the inhabited world for the temples of idols to be repaired, for altars to be raised, for the old honors to be rendered to the demons, and for many revenues to be provided to them from many sources. From there, magi, and sorcerers, and prophets, and omen-readers, and mendicant priests, and workshops of every kind of sorcery were running together from everywhere in the world, and it was possible to see the palace filled with dishonorable men and fugitives. For some of them were long perishing from famine, others had been caught in poisonings and wicked deeds, and were inhabiting prisons and working in mines, while others were with difficulty able to provide a living for themselves from shameful trades…
Chapter 15: The ridiculous response of the demon
A and sacrilegious prophets immediately became held in high honor. The Emperor, for his part, sent forth generals and prefects, and left nothing undone; he took men who had prostituted themselves and harlots brought out from the brothels where they resided, and led them around with him through the whole city and its suburbs. The imperial horse, and all the bodyguards, followed at a great distance behind; the panders and procuresses and the whole chorus of the prostitutes surrounded the Emperor as he walked in the middle of the forum, shouting such words and pouring forth such jests as it is fitting for people of such a factory to do. We know, furthermore, that those who come after us will think these things incredible because of the magnitude of their absurdity; for not even a private citizen, among those who have lived a vile and shameful life, would wish to act so indecorously in public. But to those who are still alive, there is no need for a speech; for those who were present and saw such things will surely hear of them now. B I write these things while the witnesses are still alive, so that no one might think that I, telling of ancient events to those who are ignorant, am lying with great license. For both old men and young who saw these things are still surviving, and I ask them all: if anything has been added by me, let them come forward and refute me. But they cannot refute me for having added anything; for what I have omitted, they can; for the excess of the turpitude cannot be represented in speech.
To those who will not believe it, I say this: that the demon among you, whom you call Venus, is not ashamed to use such ministers. It is not, therefore, surprising if that miserable man, who had entirely surrendered himself to the mockery of demons, was not affected by shame concerning those things in which even the gods whom he himself worshipped boasted. Who, then, could recount the necromancy and the slaughter of children? For these sacrifices, which men dared to offer before the coming of Christ, and which ceased after his coming, he attempted to reinstitute, though not indeed openly; for even though he was Emperor and did everything according to his own will, yet the impiety and inhumanity of the deed surpassed the magnitude of his power. C Nevertheless, they dared to do this. The Emperor, frequently ascending to Daphne with many votive offerings, and performing the sacrifice of many victims, and making torrents of blood flow from the slaughter of cattle, pressed vehemently, seeking an oracle from the demon and asking for a report on the things that occupied his mind. But that "strenuous" one, who "knows the number of the sand and the measure of the sea, and understands the deaf and hears the mute," as he himself says, did not indeed wish to say openly and clearly that his mouth was stopped and he could not speak because of the blessed Babylas and that neighboring power, fearing lest he move his worshippers to laughter, or be caught openly defeated, he revealed the cause of his silence; nay, he declared himself to be more ridiculous than the silence itself; for by his silence he demonstrated only his own weakness, but then he betrayed both weakness and at the same time turpitude and impudence, while he attempted to conceal things which could not be concealed.
What, therefore, is this cause of silence? "Daphne," he said, "is a place full of corpses, and that hinders the oracle." But how much better it would have been, O wretch, to confess the virtue of the martyr than to brazenly put forward these excuses! This is what the demon D answered, and the foolish Emperor, as if playing on a stage and acting out a drama, immediately went to the blessed Babylas. And yet, O most wicked and most wretched of men, if you were not deceiving yourselves of your own accord and using simulation to the ruin of others, why do you mention corpses indiscriminately, while you, as if you had heard him mention him by name and distinctly, leave the others and remove only the holy one? For it behooved you, according to the opinion of the demon, to dig up all the tombs in Daphne and to remove that "scarecrow" as far as possible from the sight of the gods. But, you will say, he did not speak of all corpses. Why, therefore, did he not profess it clearly? Certainly, he left this enigma to you who are acting out this fable of error. "I," says the demon, "speak of corpses, lest I openly admit I am defeated, and besides I fear to name the holy one; understand what has been said, and remove only the holy one; for he has indeed stopped our mouth." He recognized the madness of his own worshippers, such that they could not perceive such an open fraud; for even if they were all out of their minds and insane, not even then could they have covered up the knowledge of their own disaster; for it was so clear and manifest to all. For if certain things are polluted and execrable, as you say, [such as] human corpses, how much more so are those of brutes—inasmuch as this kind is viler than that—and indeed, many corpses of dogs, apes, and asses are buried near the temple, which it was more appropriate to move, unless perhaps you think humans are viler than apes. Where now are those who insult the beautiful creation of God, namely the sun, which was created for our service, and attribute that star to the demon, and affirm that this is that? For the sun, with countless corpses lying on the earth, radiates over the whole world, and nowhere does it contract pollution by fear of the rays or the efficacy of the rays; but your god does not shun or hold in hatred a shameful life, nor trickery, nor slaughter; but he loves, embraces, and cherishes them; yet he shrinks from our bodies, although a species of malice, even to those performing it, might seem worthy of the highest reproach; but a dead and motionless body is liable for neither fault nor reproach. But this is the institution of your gods, to abhor what ought not be abhorred, and to worship and approve of those things which are worthy of all hatred and execration. And a good man will not be deterred by a dead body from either sound counsel or an honest action; but if he be of a sound mind, even if he have his dwelling at the very graves, he will exhibit both temperance, and justice, and every virtue. Every craftsman likewise will do all things pertaining to his art without hindrance, and will offer himself to those who ask, not only sitting near corpses, but even if it were necessary to construct the very tombs of the departed; both the painter, and the stonemason, and the builder, and the coppersmith, and indeed all contribute their labor; yet Apollo alone of all says he is hindered by corpses from foreseeing future events. And yet, even among us, there have been great and marvelous men who predicted future events a thousand and four hundred years ago, and prophesied without requiring any of these things, and did not complain, did not order the tombs of the dead to be destroyed, and to cast out those lying there, and to devise a strange and shameless method of grave-robbing; but they did not even think such things among their own people.
are those living among the godless and polluted; others were in the midst of the barbarians, where all things truly worthy of pollution and defilement were established, and yet they foretold everything with truth, and the defilement of others did not prevent them from their prediction. Why so? Because those spoke what they spoke, truly being energized by a divine power, while the demon, being empty and destitute of that energy, had nothing to foretell, and yet, so as not to appear at a loss, was compelled to invent plausible and simply laughable excuses. For why, tell me, in the past time did he never say or utter anything of the sort? Because then he had the lack of worship as an excuse, but when this defense was taken away from him, he fled to the dead, being anxious lest he suffer some harm. For he did not wish to act indecorously, but you compelled him, by your excessive attentions having cut off his defense, and not leaving him any refuge in a scarcity of sacrifices.
16. B Having heard these things, that hypocrite ordered the coffin to be brought down, so that the defeat might be clear and manifest to everyone. For if he had said, "Because of the saint I cannot speak, but do not touch anything or harass me further," it would have become clear only to his own people; for they would not have brought this out to others, being ashamed. But now, as if eager to make a spectacle of his own weakness, he compelled all things to be done through which it was not possible even if he wished to veil what had happened. For it was no longer possible to preserve the hypocrisy, because none of the other dead but only the martyr was moved from that place. And not only those who inhabited the city, the suburb, and the fields, but also those standing far away from the villages, even not seeing the coffin lying there, then inquiring the cause, immediately learned that the demon, requested by the king to prophesy, said he could not do this until someone removed the blessed Babylas from there. And yet, o laughable one, it was possible for you to take refuge in other excuses, as you often do, contriving ten thousand things in your straits; to the Lydian C you said that by crossing the Halys river he would destroy a great empire, and showed him on the pyre; and in the case of Salamis, using that wise one himself, and adding the laughable combination; for to say "You will destroy the sons of women" was like the Lydian's, but to add, "Either with Demeter scattering, or gathering," was a matter for greater laughter, and resembled the things said by charlatans at the crossroads. But you did not even want this. And it was possible to hide the word in obscurity; for this is always your art; but all were pressing again, ignorant and seeking a solution. And it was possible for you D to take refuge in the stars; for you often do this too, and you are not ashamed or even blush. For your discourse is not toward men of understanding, but toward cattle and those more irrational than cattle. Were they not wiser than the Greeks who hear these things, and who were not departing from the deception? But do they see through the lie? Therefore it was necessary to tell the truth to the priest alone, and he would have found better than you how to veil your defeat. But now who persuaded you, wretch, to cast yourself into such manifest shamelessness? But perhaps you yourself did nothing wrong, but the king feigned poorly, having heard indiscriminately about the dead, but having come only to the saint; he refuted you and laid bare the deception, but not even he willingly; for it was not of the same person to honor with so many offerings, and again to insult the same; but the power of the martyr blinded everyone at once, and did not let them perceive what was happening, but everything was done as against the Christians, but the laughter was turned not upon those suffering, but upon those doing it. Thus also the crazed seem to always defend themselves against those nearby, kicking walls, and saying things, both sayable and unsayable, as evils to those present; but they disgrace by what they do not those others, but themselves; which is exactly what happened then. For the coffin was being dragged through the whole road, but the martyr was returning like some athlete to his own city, bringing a second crown, in which he also bound the first. So if anyone would not accept the resurrection, seeing the works of the martyr after his death as more brilliant, let him henceforth be ashamed. For as some champion, he joined trophies to trophies, greater to great ones and more wonderful to wonderful ones. For then he struggled against the king alone, but now against the king and the demon; and then he drove the ruler from the sacred surrounds, but now he led the corrupter away from the whole region of Daphne, not using a hand as before, but conquering the invisible with invisible power. And the murderer did not endure his boldness while he was living, and when he was dead, neither the king nor the demon who was moving the king to do these things endured his dust. For that he worked greater things for these in these second events than the former fear is clear from this. For the former took him and bound him and killed him, but these only moved him. For why did neither the former order the coffin to be submerged, nor did this one want to? Why did he not smash and burn it? Why did he not order it to be carried off to a desert and uninhabited place? For if it was pollution and defilement, and being loathsome, he moved it from there—not fearing—it was not right to introduce the pollution into the city, but to colonize it into mountains and forests.
17. But the wretch knew well that the power of the blessed one and his boldness toward God was no less than that of Apollo himself, and he feared that by doing this he might draw down thunderbolt or some other sickness upon himself. 564 For he had many proofs of Christ's power, both having been displayed in those who reigned before him, and in those who at that time were managing the empire under him. For of those who reigned long ago, those who dared such things, after many and unbearable calamities, miserably and pitiably ended their lives, as one—this was Maximinus—whose pupils automatically leaped out of his eyes while he was still living, while another was driven mad, another encountered some other such calamity, and thus departed from here. And of those who were with him at that time, one was his uncle, who in a more youthful manner used his madness against us...
and daring to touch the sacred vessels with wicked hands; and not content with this, having proceeded to further outrage (for he turned them upside down, placed them on the ground, and sat upon them), he suddenly paid the penalty for this unlawful session: for his privates, rotting, were swarming with worms, so that it was manifest that the disease had been sent by God; and physicians, to heal the wound, applying fat and foreign birds to the putrefying members, sought to draw out the worms: but they did not depart, but clung biting to the putrid parts, and thus, having consumed him for many days, they miserably destroyed him. Another person, set over the guardianship of the imperial treasury, before he could pass the threshold of the imperial hall, suddenly burst asunder and paid the penalty for a similar outrage. B Reflecting upon these things and more (for it is not the time now to recount them all), the wicked man did not dare to advance his temerity further. And that I do not say these things of myself, it will be made clear from those things which were afterward done by him; meanwhile, let us follow the sequence of events.
The Temple and Statue of Apollo Struck by Fire from Heaven
What then happened thereafter? It is truly a thing to be admired, that it shows not only the power, but also the ineffable kindness of God. For the holy martyr was within the precinct where he had been stationed before he came into Daphne; but the malignant demon learned immediately that he had labored in his frauds in vain, and that it was not with a dead man that he would have a battle, but with one who was living, acting valiantly, and who was stronger not only than himself, but than all the demons at once. For having besought God to send fire into the temple, he burned the whole roof, and having consumed the idol even to the very feet, so that only dust and ash remained, he left the walls alone standing and intact. If anyone were to go to the place now, he would by no means say that it was the work of mere fire: for that conflagration does not appear to have been made without order, nor from lifeless matter; but as if some hand were guiding the fire and pointing out which things should be spared and which should be consumed, with such symmetry and such art was the temple uncovered; nor is it similar to those affected by fire, but to those whose walls are intact and which only need a roof. For the rest of the structure and the columns, C as well as those which supported the roof and the vestibule, except for one which was placed toward the back of the temple, all are standing. Yet this one was not broken then without reason, but for that cause which we are about to speak of. When this happened, immediately the priest of the demon was dragged to the tribunal and forced to name the author of the conflagration. When he could not, they tortured him by dislocating his elbows and applying many blows, then hanging him up and whipping his sides, yet they learned nothing more; and it happened just as at the resurrection of Christ. For then soldiers were stationed to guard the body of Jesus, for fear, he says, that the disciples might craftily steal it away (Matthew 27:64): but the outcome of the matter was such that not even to the impudent who wished to destroy the faith of the resurrection was any pretext left. Here too the priest was dragged, that he might testify that it was not by divine wrath, but by human wickedness that it happened. Yet, though twisted and lacerated, since he could not name anyone, he testified that the fire had been sent from God, that no room might be left for those acting impudently. But that which I deferred to another place a little before, I will now say opportunely. What is that? The martyr so terrified his spirit that he did not dare to advance further. For after he had afflicted with such sufferings the priest, whom previously he held in such honor, on account of the charred roof—so that, had not the matter seemed abominable to all, he would perhaps not have abstained from eating his flesh—he would not have led that holy man, who had obstructed the mouth of the demon, back into the city to be in greater honor; for if not before, when the demon confessed himself defeated, at least after the conflagration would he have overturned and destroyed everything, and burned the casket and both martyria, both that in Daphne and that which was in the city, had not fear overcome anger and dread prevailed over grief. For many are accustomed, when they are seized by anger and grief, if they cannot apprehend the authors of their sickness, to pour their anger upon anyone they meet or suspect. But the martyr was not far from this suspicion: for as soon as he arrived in the city, the fire immediately invaded the temple. But, as I said, affection fought with affection, and fear overcame anger. For consider what sort of man that good man could have been, when, ascending to the suburb, he saw the martyrium standing, and the temple burned, the idol destroyed, the offerings consumed, the memory of his own liberality and of the satanic pomp removed. Even if, seeing such things, neither anger nor sadness had invaded him, he certainly would not have borne the shame, but only laughter; yet he would have extended his wicked hands upon the blessed martyr, had not that which I said restrained him. D For it was no small thing that was being done then, but it had cut off all the confidence of the Greeks, and had extinguished all their joy; and it had cast upon them such a fog of sadness as if all their temples had perished at once. I shall proceed, then, to utter the very words of the lament and monody which the city’s sophist then produced against this demon. The dirge has this beginning: "Men, upon whose eyes, just as upon mine, a fog has been cast, let us no longer call this city beautiful or great." Then, after he had said some things and asserted something about the myth of Daphne (for it is not the time to weave the whole speech here, lest we be longer than is fitting), he says: "The king of the Persians once, who took the city, spared the temple": the words themselves are these: "He who led an army against us thought fit to spare the temple, and the beauty of the statue prevailed over barbarian fury. But now, O sun, O earth! who or whence is this enemy, who, needing neither soldiers of heavy armor, nor cavalry, nor light-armed troops, has consumed everything with a small spark?" Afterward, when he declared that the demon was defeated then by him (Babylas) when the matters of the Greeks were most flourishing with sacrifices and initiations: "And our temple," he says, "did not the vast flood destroy, but—"
dragged it—but to mention the calm weather and the passing of the cloud; for he calls the time of the previous Emperor a "cloud" and a "deluge." And proceeding a little further, he laments this very same thing more bitterly, saying: "Then, while your altars were thirsting, O Apollo, you remained a precise guard of Daphne, even when being treated with contempt; and in places where you were even insulted and mocked, you endured by cutting off the outside world. But now, after many sheep and many oxen, having received on your foot the holy mouth of the Emperor, and having seen whom you foresaw, and having been seen by the one who was prophesied, delivered from an evil neighborhood, and with some dead man bothering you from nearby, you have jumped out from the middle of your ministrations." From where shall we still be A ambitious before men who remember shrines and statues? What do you say, O mourner? While being dishonored and mocked, he remained a sure guard of Daphne; but while being honored and ministered to, he could not even keep his own temple, and this, despite knowing that if that one fell, he would be reduced to a greater dishonor than the former? And who is the dead man, O sophist, who bothers your god? What is the evil neighborhood? For having fallen into the noble deeds of the blessed Babylas, and not being able to swim through the shame, he simply passed over it saying that the demon was troubled and distressed by the martyr, but not adding how, in striving to veil his defeat, the demon rather uncovered it—for he says simply: "Delivered from an evil neighborhood." For why do you not say, O master of trifles, who the dead man was, and why he alone bothered your god, and why he alone was being moved? And why do you call him an evil neighborhood, tell me? Because he exposed the deception of the demon? And yet, this was not the work of an evil neighborhood, nor even of a dead man, but of one living, working, upright, interceding, acting as a caretaker B and guardian, and managing everything for your salvation, if you had only wished. For so that it might not be permitted to you to deceive yourselves any further, and say that he withdrew willingly because he was angry, and complained about the sacrifices, and was displeased with the other ministrations, for this reason he banished him from this whole place, which was most dear to him of all, and which he had preferred to others so much that he remained there even while being dishonored. For you said this in anticipation: "And in this time, in which the Emperor was slaughtering many sheep and many oxen for him"—so that it is refuted from every side that he left Daphne because he was being compelled and pushed by a greater power. For it was possible for him to drive him away even while the statue remained, but you would not have believed it, just as you did not believe it long ago when he was fettered by him, but kept on ministering. Therefore, having previously allowed the statue to stand, when the fire of impiety was most kindled, then he brought it down, showing that one must conquer the victor in such a way—not when C adversaries are humbled, but when they are flourishing and proud. For why did he not, at that time, order the Emperor who brought him up to Daphne to tear down the temple and change the place of the statue, just as he did with the casket? Because he was neither harmed by it, nor did he require bodily assistance; but both then and now, he cast it down without human hand. And although he did not reveal the victory to us then, he silenced him and remained quiet. For such are the saints: they wish only for that which pertains to the salvation of men to be accomplished, not for it to be displayed to the many—unless some need might compel them. And by "need," I mean again the care of those being saved, which is what happened then. For since the evils of deception were increasing, the victory is finally revealed to us; and it is revealed not by the one who overcame, but by the one who was overcome himself. D For thus both the martyrdom was unsuspicious even among enemies, and the saint avoided speaking about himself, and when there was no need; but since even so the errors did not end, but those more insensible than the stones were yet standing by, encouraging the defeated one, and were blind to such an evident truth, at that time he was forced to let loose the fire upon the statue, so that through this burning, he might extinguish another burning of idolatry.
19. Why then do you blame the demon, saying that "you have jumped out from the middle of your ministrations"? Did he not jump out willingly? But he was banished and driven out against his will and was compelled, at the time when he most wanted to remain, both because of the savor and because of the sacrifices. For just as the one who was then ruling, having become emperor to this end, that he might consume the livestock of the whole world, was so unstintingly slaughtering sheep and oxen upon the altars, and was driven to such a madness that many of those who seemed to be philosophers among them were calling him a cook, and a meat-seller, and calling him by all such names. The demon, therefore, would not have departed willingly from such a lavish table, and savor, and smoke, and torrents of blood, and remaining without these, as you said, because of his madness for his beloved. But, pausing our argument for now, let us again listen to the lamentations of the sophist. For, having left Apollo, he again laments to Zeus, saying: "What a respite from a labored mind we have been deprived of, O Zeus! How free from clamor the place of Daphne is, and the temple even freer, as if nature had made a harbor upon a harbor; both were free from waves, but the second provided more quiet. Who would not have shed his sickness there? Who would not have shed his fear? Who would not have shed his grief? Who would have desired the islands of the blessed?" What respite have we been deprived of, O wretch? And how is the temple freer from clamor, and a harbor free from waves, where there are pipes, and drums, and hangovers, and revels, and drunkenness? "Who would not have shed his sickness there," he says? Who indeed of those who were attached to you would not have received a sickness there, even if he happened to be healthy beforehand, and the most grievous sickness of all? For he who worships the demon, and hears the story of Daphne, and sees the madness of the god to be so great that even after his beloved was swallowed up, he still remained in the place and by the tree—how much of a flame of madness would he not have received from there? How much of a storm? How much clamor? How much sickness? How much passion? Do you call this a respite of the soul, and a harbor free from waves? Do you call this a deliverance from sickness? And what is to be wondered at if you posit the opposites as being equal? For those who are mad do not perceive the nature of things as it is, but issue judgments that are the opposite of what exists. Oympia, not very far—for I will return again to the lamentation, showing how much
did all those then inhabiting the city receive the blow; and I shall make it clear that the Emperor would not have taken this calmly, but would have poured out all his fury upon the martyr’s shrine, had not a greater fear restrained him? What, then, does he say? "Olympia is not very far off; the congregation will summon the cities; they will come driving oxen for sacrifice to Apollo." What shall we do? Where shall we shelter ourselves? Which of the gods will command the earth to yawn open for us? What herald, what trumpet will not draw forth tears? Who will call the Olympics a festival, when this recent calamity has brought on mourning? "Give me a horned bow," says the tragedy. But I say, and with some prophetic foresight, "in order that I might catch him, that I might strike with arrows the author of this crime." O impious audacity! O impure soul! O rash hand! This is another Tityus, or Idas the brother of Lynceus; not as great as he, not such a marksman as he, but taught for one purpose: to rage against the gods. He seeks to compel the sons of Aloeus, who are plotting treachery against the gods, to die, Apollo; yet to this man, carrying fire from afar, a shaft did not fly to pierce his heart. O furious right hand! O wicked fire! Where did it strike first? Where was the beginning of the evil? Did it start from the roof and proceed to the rest? To that head, to that face, to the phial, to the turban, to the long robe? Vulcan, the custodian of fire, did not threaten the blazing fire, although he owed gratitude to the god for a signal given to him long ago. But neither did Jupiter, the moderator of the rains, send water onto the flame—he who had, nevertheless, extinguished the pyre for the Lydian king in his hour of peril. What did he say first to him who had begun the war? Whence that confidence? How did he save his momentum? Why did he not dissolve his own decree, out of reverence for the beauty of the god? How long, wretched and unhappy man, will you not understand, you who say that these are the work of human hands, and who, as if possessed, fight and struggle with yourself? For if the King of the Persians, leading such an army, having captured the city and burned all the other temples, was carrying a torch in his hands, and was already about to apply it to the temple, the daemon changed him; for you said in the beginning of your dirge: "The King of the Persians, one of his predecessors, who is waging war with us, when he had captured and burned the city, moved by the deity, abandoned the torch and worshiped Apollo; so much did he soften and convert him by his presence." He, I say, the daemon who was able to overcome barbaric fury and such an army, as you said, and was able to escape such a danger at that time, and who, as you add, quelled the Aloidae when they were plotting treachery against the gods: how, I ask, is it that he who could do such great things has done nothing of the kind now? And yet, if nothing else, he should at least have had compassion on the priest being unjustly mangled, by producing the author of the crime. And if indeed he escaped at the time of the conflagration, yet when that wretch was being hung and his sides torn open, and when he was asked to declare the author of the crime and had no one to name, then surely it was the time to stand the criminal forth and produce him, or at least to indicate him, if he could not produce him. But now the ingrate neglects to look upon his own servant being unjustly mangled, he neglects the Emperor himself, who is making a mockery of himself with so many victims; for he was ridiculed by all as a madman and one deprived of his senses, when he was pouring his anger out upon that miserable man. A But how did he who, as you also said in your earlier dirge, was predicting the arrival of the Emperor while he was still far off, not see him who was standing nearby and burning himself? And yet you say that he is a prophet, and assign other arts to your other gods as if they were men; you have ascribed to him the faculty of prophecy, yet you do not ask him to share his art with you. How does he not know his own calamities, which not even a man would fail to know? Did he perhaps fall asleep when the fire was being kindled? But he is not so devoid of sense that he would not rise immediately when the flame was applied, and seize the one who applied it. Verily, the Greeks are always children; there is no old man among the Greeks. For when you ought to be lamenting your own stupidity, because even though the events themselves cry out the deception of the demons, you do not recoil, but casting yourselves into destruction and betraying your own salvation, you are driven like cattle wherever they wish to lead you, you who sit and mourn the destruction of statues. But you demand a bow, and differ in nothing from him who speaks these things in the tragedy. For how would it not be manifest fury to expect anything of this kind from arms which brought no help even to their possessor? But if you say that you possess more skill and experience than the daemon, then he should certainly not be worshiped, as being more unskilled and weaker, even in those things in which you say he excels. But if you concede the first place to him, whether one ought to throw the javelin or prophesy, how did you, possessed of only a part of the art, think that you could perform those things which he who holds the entire art could not? He had some art of prophecy, nor if he had possessed it, could he have exercised it. For it was not a man, it certainly was not this that performed these things, but a divine power; but I will reveal the cause later. Meanwhile, however, it is right to learn for what reason he accuses Vulcan of ingratitude with these words: "But Vulcan, the custodian of fire, did not threaten the blazing fire, although he owed gratitude to the god for a signal given to him long ago." What gratitude? What signal long ago? Why do you hide the glorious deeds of your gods? For if you were to disclose the gratitude, you would show Vulcan to be all the more ungrateful. But you are held back by shame and modesty; therefore we will freely open up your affairs. What, then, is that gratitude? They tell the story that Mars was once taken with love for Venus, and that Vulcan, who was her husband, fearing for her, approached her when he had observed him in his absence. Apollo, however, when he had seen them joined together, reported the adultery to Vulcan; and that he, when he had come there, and found both in bed, bound them with chains as they were, and summoned the gods to the shameful spectacle, and took such vengeance upon them for the adultery. He says, therefore, that Vulcan, being a debtor of such gratitude, was ungrateful in rendering the benefit when the time demanded it. What then of Jupiter, O best of men? For you also accuse him of inhumanity, saying, "But neither did Jupiter..."
605 S. JOANNIS CHRYSOSTOMI ARCHIEP. CONSTANTINOP. C cast rain upon the fire, as he once extinguished the pyre for the Lydian king in his misfortune. But you have done well to remind us of the Lydian; for that vile demon deceived him also, puffed him up with vain hopes, and cast him into manifest ruin. And had Cyrus not been a man of humanity, Zeus would have availed him nothing. Thus, you complain in vain to Zeus for having preferred the Lydian to his own son; for he did not even defend himself in the city where he was honored above all others—I mean the city of Romulus—when he was struck by the thunderbolt.
But let us listen to the remaining words of the lament; for in this way we shall well understand the grief that had occupied their souls. "Men," [it says], "I am drawn in my soul toward the likeness of the god, and my reason sets before my eyes his form: the gentleness of his countenance, the softness of his skin—and this in stone—the golden tunic gathered at the breast by a girdle, so that some parts seem to settle and others to rise up. And what whole appearance would not have calmed a seething temper? For he seemed to be singing a melody, and indeed some, it is said, heard him playing the kithara at midday. O happy ears!" Then the song was, it seems, a praise of the land, unto which it appears to me he also pours a libation from his golden cup, because it hid the maiden while she was being pursued and gathering herself together. Then, lamenting briefly over the conflagration: "He was shouting," he says, "the traveler of the same [temple] divine, and the occupant of Daphne, the priestess of the god, was thrown into confusion. But the blows upon the breast, and a certain sharp wailing running through the thickly-wooded place, falls upon the city, terrible and D dreadful; and the eyes of the ruler, having just tasted sleep, were awakened by a bitter word from his couch." 371
He continues in a frenzy, asking for wings from Hermes, and then he himself set out in search of the root of the evil, burning within no less than the temple. Beams were being carried down, bearing fire to whatever they touched and destroying it; first Apollo, since he stood but a little distance from the roof, and then the other beauties, the images of the Muses, the flashes of the stones, the grace of the columns. The crowd stood around together, lamenting and at a loss to help, as happens to those who see a shipwreck from the land, whose only help is to weep at what is taking place. Surely they raised a great [lament]—the nymphs leaping from the fountains, and great [was the lament] of Zeus sitting nearby, as is fitting for one disturbed over the honors of a son, and great the crowd of myriads of demons living in the grove—no less a lament than that of Calliope from the midst of the city, for the leader of the Muses' choir had been wronged by the fire. Then towards the end he says: "Be to me now also, Apollo, such as the son of Chryses made you when he cursed the Achaeans, full of anger and looking like the night, because, when we were returning your robes and replacing what had been carried away, the object of our honor was snatched away beforehand, like a bridegroom whose garlands were already being woven, but who has departed."
21. This was the lament, or rather, a few portions of the lament. I am moved to wonder how he thinks to glorify himself with these things, over which he ought rather to have veiled his head, doing nothing better than an intemperate and shameful youth playing the kithara at midday, and saying that the subject of his song was his beloved—and "O happy ears" that heard the shameful song!
And that some of those who dwelt in Daphne should weep, and those attached to them, and that the ruler of the city should burn with grief, and that they should do nothing more than lament, is not at all surprising. But that the gods themselves should be in the same state of helplessness, and weep among themselves, and that neither Zeus, nor Calliope, nor that great crowd of demons, nor even the nymphs themselves should suffice against the fire, but that they all should raise only wailings and lamentations—this is a thing full of much laughter.
That they were deeply stricken has been sufficiently demonstrated from what has been said; for indeed, somewhere in the midst of the monody he explicitly confessed that they had been struck in their most vital parts. The Emperor would not, therefore, have borne this calmly, were he not possessed by fear and greater trembling. It is time, then, to show the reason why God did not let loose his wrath upon the emperor, but upon the demon, and why the fire did not destroy the whole temple, but while destroying the roof, it also put the idol to the test. For these things did not happen simply or without any cause, but everything was done out of God's philanthropy for those who are being led astray. For He who knows all things before their birth knew, among other things, this: that if the thunderbolt had been brought down against the Emperor, those who were present and saw the blow would have been afraid for a time, but after a second or third year had passed, the memory of what had happened would have perished, and many would have been those who doubted the miracle. But if the temple were to receive the flame, it would proclaim the wrath of God more clearly than any herald, not only to those then present, but to all who should come after, so that the excuse would have been utterly removed for those wishing to be shameless and to cover up what had happened. For each one standing at that place, as if the conflagration had just occurred, has his soul so disposed, and a certain shuddering comes upon him, and looking up to heaven he straightway glorifies the power of Him who did these things. Just as if someone had broken into the cave and hideout of a brigand and brought out the prisoner living therein, and taking all his goods had left the place to be a refuge for wild beasts and jackals, and then each of those coming to that hideout, at the same time seeing the place, imagines and depicts to himself the raids, the thefts, and the very form of him who formerly inhabited it—so it happens here also. For seeing the columns from afar, and then coming and crossing the threshold, he depicts for himself the abomination of the demon, the deception, the machinations, and being struck with awe at the wrath and power of God, he departs; and the former structure of error and blasphemy now becomes a subject of doxology. So resourceful is our God. And these paradoxes are not now for the first time, but from above and from former generations He performs miracles. And it is not the present time to recount all, but I will mention a matter that seems similar to this. For when a war had once been stirred up in Palestine by the Jews against certain aliens, the enemies were victorious, and having taken the ark of God as a kind of booty and first-fruits, they dedicated it to a certain local idol—Dagon was his name. And the first time the ark was brought in, the wooden image fell and lay face down; and when they did not understand the power of the strength of God from this fall, [another...]
Chapter 21
A...and placed it on its own base, returning the next day at dawn, they saw not only that it had fallen, but that it was utterly shattered. For the hands were torn from the shoulders and had flown to the threshold of the temple along with the feet, and the remaining part of the statue was found torn asunder in another place. And the land of Sodom, to compare small things with great, for that reason perished with its inhabitants by fire (Gen. 19), and remained unfruitful, so that not only the men of that age, but all who were to come after might be brought to a better state of mind by the places themselves. For if the punishment had reached only the men, the deed would not have been believed later. Therefore, the place receives the blow, which is not able to be destroyed by time, and reminds individual generations that it has been ordained by law that those who do such things shall suffer such things, even if they do not pay the penalty immediately, as happened in this temple. For look, the twentieth year is passing since that time, and yet no part of the building left by the fire has perished; but the parts that escaped the fire stand firmly, and are so solid that they could last for a hundred and twice more, and again twice more than that number of years. And what is wonderful is that not one of the columns was torn from another and fell to the ground. For of those columns that were at the rear of the temple, one only was broken, but it did not even fall, but remained moved from its base and reclined against the wall, so that its part from the bottom up to the fracture rests obliquely against the wall; but from the fracture up to the capital it stands supine, supported by the lower part. And although the winds have often blown vehemently against this place, and earthquakes have occurred, and the earth has been shaken, the remains of the flame have not been moved; but they stood almost crying out that they were preserved for the correction of those who were to come.
BThat the fire did not consume everything, you might name this as the cause; but if you seek the cause why the lightning did not touch the Emperor, you will find another, flowing from that very same fountain of the kindness and clemency of Christ, turning the bolt away from the Emperor’s head, so that, taught by the calamities of others, he might avoid the penalty stored up for him, and having been changed, might be set free from error. And Christ did not give him this, nor the first sign of His own power alone, but many others not less than these. For both his uncle and his financial quaestor passed from life in this way; besides this, a famine invading the city together with him, and a lack of water such as had never been seen before, until sacrifices were made to the springs by him, and many other things, whether happening in the army or in the cities, could have moved even a heart of stone, not only by their multitude, and not because all the crimes followed immediately, as once in the time of the king of the Egyptians; but also because such miracles were brought about by themselves, so that one did not need another for the conversion of those who saw them, but each of them was sufficient in itself to accomplish that. For, to omit the rest, whom would it not have deterred, if not the most stupid, what kind of sign was displayed around the foundations of the old temple of Jerusalem? What was that? When the tyrant saw that the faith of Christ was spread through all his dominion, and had already occupied the borders of the Persians, and of other more distant barbarians, and had again advanced beyond them, and, so to speak, occupied the whole world: he was tormented in his soul and distressed, and was preparing a war against the Churches. But the wretched man was ignorant that he was kicking against the goad. And at first, he was attempting to restore the Jerusalem temple, which the power of Christ had utterly destroyed, the man of virtue and of paganism was taking charge of the affairs of the Jews, wishing to make a trial of Christ from thence; and having invited certain Jews, and ordered them to sacrifice (for he said their ancestors used this kind of worship), since the Jews were fleeing to this, because they said it was not lawful for them, with the temple destroyed, to do so outside the ancient metropolis, he orders money to be taken from the imperial treasury, and also all other things necessary for the structure, and to go and restore the temple and resume the ancient custom of sacrifices. Then those fools, wandering from the womb and needing childish instruction until they were gray, departed to carry out the affair with the Emperor’s favor: and as soon as they had begun to move the earth, fire leaping from the foundations consumed them at once. When these things were reported to the Emperor, he did not dare to advance the project any further, with fear surely restraining him; yet he did not wish to be delivered from the error of the demons, to whom he was plainly subject; meanwhile, however, he rested a little.
The manner of the persecution under Julian.
CA short time after this he undertook a similarly vain effort, not indeed daring to build the temple any further, but wishing to fight us in skirmishes: for he still delayed attacking us in open war: for this one and primary reason, because he was persuaded that he would attempt it in vain; and for the second reason, lest he give us an opportunity to be crowned with martyrdom. For this was indeed intolerable to him, and heavier than any calamity, if any one produced into the midst persisted for the truth unto death in torments: so deeply did he declare himself our enemy. For he knew, he knew plainly, that if he dared this, all would give up their souls for Christ; but being malicious and cunning, he everywhere released all those who had suffered punishment from the leaders of the Church for some sin, or had been removed from some magistracy, in this way giving power to the most wicked, overturning the laws of the Church, and stirring up mutual conflict among them: for he hoped that they would be easy to conquer, when they had consumed themselves in an intestine war. He also orders a certain man, because of both his perverse doctrine and his wicked life, having been driven from ecclesiastical leadership, by the name of Stephanus, to occupy the teaching throne again, and he was taking care to extinguish the Lord’s name, as far as it could be done, calling us Galileans instead of Christians both in his edicts, and exhorting the leaders to do the same. Among so many signs, however, as I said, that were being manifested through famine and drought, he still persisted in the same impudence and hardness. And intending to undertake the Persian expedition, descending with such pride as if he were about to ravage the whole barbaric nation, he was breathing out six hundred threats against us, boasting...
even after his return from there, to destroy everyone utterly. For he thought this war [Persian] was more dangerous than the other, and that it behooved him to finish the lesser one first, and then to come to this greater one. And these things those who shared his counsel reported to us. But burning with anger against us, and every day rising to greater madness, he never stood by the same opinion, but putting aside his former plan, he threatened the persecution upon us again. But God, wishing to drive him back and to restrain him while he was inflamed, brought upon him again this sign, having sent the fire upon the temple in Daphne.
23. B But he did not even then abate his anger, but torn by the desire for our looting, he remained not even for a time in the things he had threatened; but intending to cross the Euphrates, he made an experiment of the soldiers, and having corrupted certain few in number by flattery, he did not release the ones who resisted from the service, fearing lest by separating them he might make the army weaker against the Persian. Who then among us will narrate the things that followed, and the things that happened in the desert, and in the sea, and in Egypt, when that senseless Pharaoh was being punished, and all were being drowned, which were far more terrible? For just as then, since the Egyptian was unwilling to become better from any of such calamities, He finally drowned him with his army, so also now, since he stood shamelessly against all the prodigies of God, and was unwilling to gain anything from them, but remained uncorrected, He finally involved him in extreme evils, so that, if he could not endure to be made prudent by the evils of others, others might become better through his sufferings. For he who brought down so many myriads of soldiers, as many as no one of those who ever reigned, and having expected to capture the whole land of the Persians by a raid and without sweat, C acted so wretchedly and piteously, as if he had with him a camp of women and small children rather than men. For first, indeed, he brought them into such necessity through his own folly, that they tasted of horse flesh, and some perished corrupted by famine, others by thirst. For as if commanding the Persians, and not striving to capture them, but to betray his own to them, so he shut them into impassable places, and all but bound handed them over. But all the calamities that happened there, neither any of those who saw and experienced them will be able to recount; so much did one surpass the other in excess; but to speak in summary, he having fallen shamefully and piteously. For some say that he died having been struck by one of the baggage-bearers who was discontented with the situation; others say that they do not even know his slayer, but only that he was struck and called for the land of the Cilicians for his burial, where he also now lies. Falling thus shamefully, the soldiers, seeing that they were in extreme distress, fell upon the enemies, and having given oaths that they would withdraw from that most secure of all fortresses—and he was, as it were, an unbreakable wall for our world—and having obtained the humanity of the barbarians, they thus escaped and returned, few from many, and they themselves having suffered in their bodies, D ashamed of the things they had agreed to, yet compelled by the oaths to withdraw from their ancestral possessions. And it was possible to see a spectacle more piteous than any captivity; for those living in that city, from whom they expected to receive thanks because they had established all those within the city as if in a harbor, having been themselves, instead of all, exposed to all the dangers always, suffered from these men the things of the enemies, migrating to a foreign land, and leaving houses and fields, and being torn from all their possessions, those of their ancestors, and enduring these things at the hands of their own.
Such were the benefits we enjoyed from the noble emperor. But these things have not been said simply, but so as to resolve the confusion of those who ask, why in the world did God not punish the emperor from the beginning? He wished indeed to restrain him often while he was raging in his forward course, and to correct him by the evils of others; but since he resisted, He handed him over to extreme evils, storing up the true retribution for his daring deeds for the great day, and through the present punishment awakening the more sluggish and making them more prudent. For such is the long-suffering of God, that to those who do not use it properly, it brings upon them a more bitter punishment at the end; and just as it is useful to those who repent, so also to the unyielding and hard it becomes a pretext for greater punishments. But if someone should say: Why then did God not foresee that the tyrant would be uncorrectable? We will say, that He did foresee it, but He never ceases to do His own work because of the foreknowledge of our wickedness; but even if we do not accept the admonition, He displays His own philanthropy. But if we push ourselves into greater evils, this is no longer from Him, nor did He show long-suffering for this, that we might perish, but that we might be saved, but it is from us who have acted insolently against His ineffable forbearance. And thus also the infinity of His philanthropy is shown. For when we ourselves do not want to enjoy His great long-suffering, then He turns it to the profit of others, everywhere displaying both His philanthropy and His resourcefulness together; which also happened then. And the tyrant thus ended his life, but of his madness and of the power of the blessed Babylas, the temple and the martyrdom remain as memorials, the one being desert, the other having the same efficacy which it had also before. The reliquary is no longer brought forth, God having ordained this also, so that the knowledge of the holy man's achievements might become more clear to those who come after. For each of those coming from a foreign land, arriving at the place, and seeking the martyr, then not seeing him there, immediately comes to seek the cause, and thus having heard the whole history departs, having gained more than before; so also having arrived at Daphne, and again leaving it, he profits most greatly. Such is the strength of the martyrs, both living and dying, and remaining in places, and again leaving them. For indeed from the beginning until the end the achievements were connected in a continuous series. For see, [the martyr] defended the laws of God being insulted, took the punishment he ought for the deceased; he showed how great is the distance between priesthood and emperorship, he dissolved all the pomp of the world.
IN JUVENTINUM ET MAXIMINUM MARTYRES
A and trampled upon the phantom of life, he taught kings not to drive power beyond the measure given to them by God. He showed those in holy orders how they ought to preside over this authority. And these things, and more than these, he did while he was in the flesh; but when he moved on and departed, he enervated the strength of the demon, refuted the deception of the Greeks, exposed the vanity of sooth-saying, crushed its mask, and laid bare all its histrionic art, forcing him who seemed to preside over it to be struck dumb, and oppressing him with great vehemence. Today even the stones of the temple stand B proclaiming to everyone the shame of the demon, his laughter, and his weakness, but the martyr's crowns, his victory, and his power. Such is the strength of the saints, so invincible and formidable is it, both to emperors and to demons, and even to the prince of demons himself.
To the Father, and to the co-beginningless Spirit, now and always, and unto the unending ages of ages. Amen.
ADMONITION
Not only, as we said, does the location demonstrate that this discourse was delivered a few days after the homily on Babylas; but Chrysostom provides another indication of this fact shortly after the beginning. There was an Emperor, he says, even in our grandfather’s day, who was superior in impiety to those who preceded him, as I recently said at greater length. Indeed, many things in the preceding homily on Saint Babylas are said about Julian the Apostate. Do not think, however, that the sermon on Saint Babylas is a lengthy book; it is not a speech, nor is it a homily, nor was it ever recited in the assembly of the people, as we said in the preceding admonition; rather, it is handled as a homily preceding this one. We have not been able to assign a year to it, just as we could not for the homilies on Lazarus, nor to this one on the Holy Martyrs Juventinus and Maximinus. For while it seems certain that they were delivered in the same year and at the same time, it has not been possible to discover which year that was by any probable indication. Compare with this, if you will, the things we said in the preceding admonition.
The Latin interpretation is by a certain learned man, which we have corrected in many places.
BY THE SAME, A PANEGYRICAL SERMON ON THE HOLY MARTYRS JUVENTINUS AND MAXIMINUS, WHO SUFFERED MARTYRDOM UNDER JULIAN THE APOSTATE
C The blessed Babylas formerly gathered us here with the children; today, however, a pair of holy soldiers has arrayed the army of Christ in the line of battle. Formerly, a chariot of martyrs; today, a pair of martyrs. Their age is different, but their faith is one; their struggles are varied, but their fortitude is the same: the former are older in time, the latter are more recent. Such is the treasure of the Church, having both new pearls and old; but the beauty of them all is one. Their flower neither withers nor falls away with time; the nature of this splendor does not know the rust of age. By the length of time, wealth that belongs to the body easily perishes; for garments are worn out, houses are destroyed, and gold is consumed by rust; and in sum, the nature of all sensible faculties is eventually abolished and destroyed by time. But it is not so with that which the Church has in her spiritual treasures concerning the martyrs (I speak of those who always remain in the same vigor, are always in the same D flower of youth, always emitting the brightness of their glory and their rays). Knowing this, you do not honor the saints differently—some in one way, others in another—but with the same eagerness, the same love, and the same affection you honor and commend them all. For you do not examine the time, but you seek out the fortitude of their souls, their piety, their unwavering faith, their zeal that is incited and fervent, and those virtues which the saints, to whose honor we are gathered today, display. For these were burning with such love for God that they were crowned with the martyr's crown even outside the time of persecution; without a battle they erected a trophy, without a war they gained a victory, without a struggle they seized the prize. And how shall I say this? But bear with me, as I relate it from a little further back.
On the Holy Martyrs Juventinus and Maximinus, who suffered martyrdom under Julian the Apostate. Panegyrical Sermon. Chapter 1.
There was a certain emperor in our own generation, who surpassed all before him in impiety, of whom I also spoke to you recently. This emperor, seeing how our cause flourished—I mean, from the death of the martyrs—and that not only men, but even tender children and virgins untouched by marriage, and in sum people of every age and station, were leaping toward the slaughter for the sake of piety, was stung and pained, yet did not wish to declare war openly. For everyone, he said, flies toward martyrdom as bees to the honeycomb. Nor did he learn this from another, but from his own predecessors. For tyrants indeed warred against the Church, and the populace incessantly rose up, while the spark of piety was still small; but they did not extinguish it, they did not destroy it, but rather they were destroyed, while that spark grew, rose to the heights, and captured the entire world, as all the faithful were slaughtered, burned, cast down precipices, drowned, and delivered to beasts. For they walked upon coals as if upon mud, and viewed the depths and the waves as if they were meadows, and ran to the sword as if to a diadem and crown, and they proved that of all the forms of punishment, it was not only because they bore them nobly, but also because they did so with pleasure and great eagerness. For just as plants are naturally watered and made to grow, so also our faith flourishes all the more when it is warred upon, and abounds when it is harassed; nor does the watering of waters usually make gardens nearly so lush as the blood of the martyrs is wont to water the Churches. Knowing all these things and more, therefore, he feared to move openly against us in war, lest, he said, we raise up successive trophies, perform continuous victories, and make them provide themselves with crowns. A And what does he do? Observe the malice: he ordered doctors, soldiers, sophists, and orators, all of them, to abandon their professions or renounce their faith; thus skirmishing the war against us, so that if they yielded, the defeat would be laughable, in that they did not prefer piety to their livelihoods; and if they stood nobly and prevailed, the victory would not be very illustrious, nor the trophy conspicuous, for there is nothing great in scorning a craft or profession for the sake of piety. And he did not stop even there; but if there was anyone in previous times, when the emperors were pious, who had either demolished an altar, or torn down a temple, or taken away dedicatory offerings, or done anything else of that sort, he was dragged to court and slaughtered—not only the one who had done something of that sort, but even the one who was merely accused. And he fabricated ten thousand other manifold pretexts, so as to cut down all those living in piety. And he did all these things wishing to dim the crown of martyrdom, so that while the murder proceeded for him and the slaughters continued, the rewards of the martyrs might not appear glorious. But nothing more came of it for him. For not by his judgment, nor by his malice in any way, but by the impartial judgment—the one from above, I mean—are they about to receive their crown.
Chapter 2: Juventinus and Maximinus imprisoned; and the reason for this.
Therefore, with matters being such, and that man fearing to declare war and dreading defeat, it happened that a soldiers’ symposium took place, in which those who have gathered us today, the martyrs, participated. And as is to be expected at a symposium, with many words being put forward and different people discussing different things, these men lamented the existing evils and blessed the former times, saying both to themselves and to those present: "Is it worth it to live at all? To breathe, or to look upon this sun, while sacred laws are being trampled, piety is being insulted, and the Master of the common creation is being dishonored? Everything is full of smoke and stench, everything is full of impure sacrifices, and we cannot even breathe pure air." And do not, I beg you, simply pass over what is said, but consider the time when these things were spoken, and observe the devoutness of those speaking. For if, in a soldiers' symposium, where there is unmixed wine, drunkenness, the competition of extreme dissipation, and a struggle of debauchery and madness, they were groaning in this way, they were lamenting in this way—what were they like when they were in their own homes, when they were with one another alone? What were they like at their prayers, who even at the very moment of revelry were so composed, and demonstrating apostolic empathy? Others were falling, and these were lamenting; another was practicing impiety, and these were being scorched; they did not even feel their own health because of the infirmity of their brethren, but as if they had been given as common protectors of the world, so they grieved and wept over the evils being committed. Having said these things, they did not escape notice; but one of those who were companions at that table, a slanderer and flatterer, wishing to curry favor with the emperor, reported all that had been said to him. And he, having found what he had been seeking for a long time, and having seized a pretext capable of depriving them of the reward of martyrdom, ordered all of their property to be confiscated, accusing them of tyranny on account of these words, and ordered them to be cast naked into the prison. But they were rejoicing and exulting. "For what is wealth and expensive clothing to us?" they said. "For even if it is necessary to strip off the very last garment from the flesh for Christ's sake, we will not hold onto even that, but will cede even it." And soon seals were upon their houses, and all their belongings were seized. And just as men, intending to travel to a distant, far-off homeland, often turn their house into cash and send it on before them, so, indeed, it happened in their case. Since they were intending to journey to heaven, their substance was sent on before them, with their very enemies acting as ministers for the transit. For not only is money given in the name of almsgiving transferred to heaven, but even what those who war against the faith and pursue those living in piety steal—even this is stored up there. For that this is no less than the other, hear what Paul says: "And you accepted the plundering of your possessions with joy, knowing that you have a better and an abiding possession in the heavens" (Hebr. 10:34). The martyrs, therefore, were in the prison, and the whole city was rushing there; even though great fears and threats and dangers were hanging over anyone who approached and conversed and shared words with them. But the fear of God pushed all those aside, and through them many at that time became martyrs, scorning the present life for the sake of communion with them, and while many were running together, continuous psalms...
martyrs: for many, by contemplating the present life, visited them frequently, celebrating psalmodies and sacred vigils. Those intimate encounters were full of spiritual instruction and consolation; and the church having been closed, the prison became a church. Nor did those only who visited them, but also those who were held within with them, learn the greatest wisdom and virtue from their patience and faith. When the Emperor heard these things, he was greatly angered; yet wishing to supplant them, and to cast them down from their alacrity, he suborned certain foul men and sorcerers to urge them, if ever a private conversation offered itself, not as sent by the Emperor, but as if acting by their own counsel, to desist from religion and pass over to impiety. For they said: "Thus you will not only escape the imminent danger, but, being honored with greater dignity, you will also attain greater rule, the Emperor’s anger being happily placated. Have you not seen others of your rank do the same?" To whom they replied: "Nay, we shall stand manfully especially for this reason, that for their fall we might offer ourselves as sacrifices." Our Lord is benign; He is accustomed, even with one sacrifice accepted, to be reconciled to the whole world. And as the three children of old said: "There is in this time no prince and prophet, and leader, neither burnt offering, nor sacrifice, nor place of offering before thee, that we may find mercy, but [let them be received] in a contrite heart and spirit of humility" (Dan. III, 38, 39): so also those martyrs, seeing the altars overturned, the churches closed, the priests driven away, all the faithful put to flight, were eager that they might be offered for all to the Lord, and having left the military ranks, might join themselves to the angelic choirs. "Even if we do not die now," they said, "we must die and suffer this not much later; and for this we shall pay the same price. It is better therefore to die for the King of angels than for a king so impious; it is better to lay down arms for a heavenly fatherland than for an earthly one, which even we trample underfoot." Here, even if one dies, he will receive nothing from the Emperor worthy of his courage. And what could a man confer upon one deceased? Nay, often even burial does not fall to his lot, and not rarely is he devoured by dogs. But if we shall have died for the King of angels, we are certain that we shall receive a body much more glorious, we shall be conspicuous with greater glory, far greater will be the rewards of our labors for us, and we shall be crowned with a crown. Therefore, let us seize spiritual arms: there is no need of arrows and bows, no need of other arms that fall under the senses; the tongue suffices for all. For the mouths of the saints are quivers, from which continuous and frequent blows are inflicted upon the devilish head.