On the Epistle to the Ephesians, St. John Chrysostom

ON THE
EPISTLE
OF
ST. PAUL
THE APOSTLE
TO THE
EPHESIANS

The Argument

Ephesus is the metropolis of Asia. It was dedicated to Diana, whom especially they worshipped there as their great goddess. Indeed so great was the superstition of her worshippers, that when her temple was burnt, they would not so much as divulge the name of the man who burnt it.

The blessed John the Evangelist spent the chief part of his time there: he was there when he was banished, and there he died. It was there too that Paul left Timothy, as he says in writing to him, “As I exhorted thee to tarry at Ephesus. (1 Tim. 1:3.)

Most of the philosophers also, those more particularly who flourished in Asia, were there; and even Pythagoras himself is said to have come from thence; perhaps because Samos, whence he really came, is an island of Ionia. It was the resort also of the disciples of Parmenides, and Zeno, and Democritus, and you may see a number of philosophers there even to the present day.

These facts I mention, not merely as such, but with a view of showing that Paul would needs take great pains and trouble in writing to these Ephesians. He is said indeed to have entrusted them, as being persons already well-instructed, with his profoundest conceptions; and the Epistle itself is full of sublime thoughts and doctrines.

He wrote the Epistle from Rome, and, as he himself informs us, in bonds. “Pray for me, that utterance may be given unto me, in opening my mouth to make known with boldness the mystery of the Gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains.” (Eph. 6:19.) It abounds with sentiments of overwhelming loftiness and grandeur. Thoughts which he scarcely so much as utters any where else, he here plainly declares; as when he says, “To the intent that now unto the principalities and the powers in the heavenly places might be made known through the Church the manifold wisdom of God.” (Eph. 3:10.) And again; “He raised us up with him, and made us to sit with him in heavenly places. (Eph. 2:6.) And again; “Which in other generations was not made known unto the sons of men, as it hath now been revealed unto His holy apostles and prophets in the Spirit, that the Gentiles are fellow-heirs, and fellow-partakers of the promise in Christ.” (Eph. 3:5.)

Homily I

Observe, he applies the word “through” to the Father. But what then? Shall we say that He is inferior? Surely not. “To the saints,” saith he, “which are at Ephesus, and the faithful in Christ Jesus.”

Observe that he calls saints, men with wives, and children, and domestics. For that these are they whom he calls by this name is plain from the end of the Epistle, as, when he says, “Wives, be in subjection unto your own husbands.” (Eph. 5:22.) And again, “Children, obey your parents:” (Eph. 6:1.) and, “Servants, be obedient to your masters.” (Eph. 6:5.) Think how great is the indolence that possesses us now, how rare is any thing like virtue now and how great the abundance of virtuous men must have been then, when even secular men could be called “saints and faithful.” “Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.” “Grace” is his word; and he calls God, “Father;” since this name is a sure token of that gift of grace. And how so? Hear what he saith elsewhere; “Because ye are sons, God sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father.” (Gal. 4:6.)

Because for us men Christ was born, and appeared in the flesh.

Observe; The God of Him that was Incarnate. And though thou wilt not, The Father of God the Word.

He is here alluding to the blessings of the Jews; for that was blessing also, but it was not spiritual blessing. For how did it run? “The Lord bless thee, He will bless the fruit of thy body;” (Deut. 7:13.) and “He will bless thy going out and thy coming in.” (Deut. 28:4.) But here it is not thus, but how? “With every spiritual blessing.” And what lackest thou yet? Thou art made immortal, thou art made free, thou art made a son, thou art made righteous, thou art made a brother, thou art made a fellow-heir, thou reignest with Christ, thou art glorified with Christ; all things are freely given thee. “How,” saith he, “shall He not also with Him freely give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32.) Thy First-fruits is adored by Angels, by the Cherubim, by the Seraphim! What lackest thou yet? “With every spiritual blessing.” There is nothing carnal here. Accordingly He excluded all those former blessings, when He said, “In the world ye have tribulation,” (John 16:33.) to lead us on to these. For as they who possessed carnal things were unable to hear of spiritual things, so they who aim at spiritual things cannot attain to them unless they first stand aloof from carnal things.

What again is “spiritual blessing in the heavenly places?” It is not upon earth, he means, as was the case with the Jews. “Ye shall eat the good of the land.” (Isa. 1:19.) “Unto a land flowing with milk and honey.” (Ex. 3:8.) “The Lord shall bless thy land.” (Deut. 7:13.) Here we have nothing of this sort, but what have we? “If a man love Me, he will keep My word, and I and My Father will come unto him, and make our abode with him.” (Jo. 14:23.) “Every one therefore which heareth these words of Mine, and doeth them, shall be likened unto a wise man which built his house upon the rock, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell not, for it was founded upon the rock.” (Mat. 7:24, 25.) And what is that rock but those heavenly things which are above the reach of every change? “Every one therefore who,” saith Christ, “shall confess Me before men, him will I also confess before My Father which is in Heaven: But whosoever shall deny Me, him will I also deny.” (Mat. 10:32, 33.) Again, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Mat. 5:8.) And again, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.” (Mat. 5:3.) And again, “Blessed are ye which are persecuted for righteousness sake, for great is your reward in Heaven.” (Mat. 5:11, 12.) Observe, how every where He speaketh of Heaven, no where of earth, or of the things on the earth. And again, “Our citizenship is in Heaven, from whence also we wait for a Saviour the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Phil. 3:20.) And again, “Not setting your mind on the things that are on the earth, but on the things which are above.” (Col. 3:3.)

That is to say, this blessing was not by the hand of Moses, but by Christ Jesus: so that we surpass them not only in the quality of the blessings, but in the Mediator also. As moreover he saith in the Epistle to the Hebrews; “And Moses indeed was faithful in all his house as a servant, for a testimony of those things which were afterward to be spoken; but Christ as a Son over His house, whose house are we.” (Heb. 3:5–6.)

His meaning is somewhat of this sort. Through whom He hath blessed us, through Him He hath also chosen us. And He, then, it is that shall bestow upon us all those rewards hereafter. He is the very Judge that shall say, “Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Mat. 25:34.) And again, “I will that where I am they will also be with Me.” (John 17:24.) And this is a point which he is anxious to prove in almost all his Epistles, that ours is no novel system, but that it had thus been figured from the very first, that it is not the result of any change of purpose, but had been in fact a divine dispensation and foreordained. And this is a mark of great solicitude for us.

What is meant by, “He chose us in Him?” By means of the faith which is in Him, Christ, he means, happily ordered this for us before we were born; nay more, before the foundation of the world. And beautiful is that word “foundation,” as though he were pointing to the world as cast down from some vast height. Yea, vast indeed and ineffable is the height of God, so far removed not in place but in incommunicableness of nature; so wide the distance between creation and Creator! A word which heretics may be ashamed to hear.

But wherefore hath He chosen us? “That we should be holy and without a blemish before Him.” That you may not then, when you hear that “He hath chosen us,” imagine that faith alone is sufficient, he proceeds to add life and conduct. To this end, saith he, hath He chosen us, and on this condition, “that we should be holy and without blemish.” And so formerly he chose the Jews. On what terms? “This nation, saith he, hath He chosen from the rest of the nations.” (Deut. 14:2.) Now if men in their choices choose what is best, much more doth God. And indeed the fact of their being chosen is at once a token of the loving kindness of God, and of their moral goodness. For by all means would he have chosen those who were approved. He hath Himself rendered us holy, but then we must continue holy. A holy man is he who is a partaker of faith; a blameless man is he who leads an irreproachable life. It is not however simply holiness and irreproachableness that He requires, but that we should appear such “before Him.” For there are holy and blameless characters, who yet are esteemed as such only by men those who are like whited sepulchres, and like such as wear sheep’s clothing. It is not such, however, He requires, but such as the Prophet speaks of; “And according to the cleanness of my hands.” (Ps. 18:24.) What cleanness? That which is so “in His eyesight.” He requires that holiness on which the eye of God may look.

Having thus spoken of the good works of these, he again recurs to His grace. “In love,” saith he, “having predestinated us.” Because this comes not of any pains, nor of any good works of ours, but of love; and yet not of love alone, but of our virtue also. For if indeed of love alone, it would follow that all must be saved; whereas again were it the result of our virtue alone, then were His coming needless, and the whole dispensation. But it is the result neither of His love alone, nor yet of our virtue, but of both. “He chose us,” saith the Apostle; and He that chooseth, knoweth what it is that He chooseth. “In love,” he adds, “having foreordained us;” for virtue would never have saved any one, had there not been love. For tell me, what would Paul have profited, how would he have exhibited what he has exhibited, if God had not both called him from the beginning, and, in that He loved him, drawn him to Himself? But besides, His vouchsafing us so great privileges, was the effect of His love, not of our virtue. Because our being rendered virtuous, and believing, and coming nigh unto Him, even this again was the work of Him that called us Himself, and yet, notwithstanding, it is ours also. But that on our coming nigh unto Him, He should vouchsafe us so high privileges, as to bring us at once from a state of enmity, to the adoption of children, this is indeed the work of a really transcendent love.

Do you observe how that nothing is done without Christ? Nothing without the Father? The one hath predestinated, the other hath brought us near. And these words he adds by way of heightening the things which have been done, in the same way as he says also elsewhere, “And not only so, but we also rejoice in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Rom. 5:11.) For great indeed are the blessings bestowed, yet are they made far greater in being bestowed through Christ; because He sent not any servant, though it was to servants He sent, but the Only-begotten Son Himself.

That is to say, because He earnestly willed it. This is, as one might say, His earnest desire. For the word “good pleasure” every where means the precedent will, for there is also another will. As for example, the first will is that sinners should not perish; the second will is, that, if men become wicked, they shall perish. For surely it is not by necessity that He punishes them, but because He wills it. You may see something of the sort even in the words of Paul, where he says, “I would that all men were even as I myself.” (1 Cor. 7:7.) And again, “I desire that the younger widows marry, bear children.” (1 Tim. 5:14.) By “good pleasure” then he means the first will, the earnest will, the will accompanied with earnest desire, as in case of us, for I shall not refuse to employ even a somewhat familiar expression, in order to speak with clearness to the simpler sort; for thus we ourselves, to express the intentness of the will, speak of acting according to our resolve. What he means to say then is this, God earnestly aims at, earnestly desires, our salvation. Wherefore then is it that He so loveth us, whence hath He such affection? It is of His goodness alone. For grace itself is the fruit of goodness. And for this cause, he saith, hath He predestinated us to the adoption of children; this being His will, and the object of His earnest wish, that the glory of His grace may be displayed. “According to the good pleasure of His will,” he proceeds,

That the glory of His grace may be displayed, he saith, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. Now then if for this He hath shown grace to us, to the praise of the glory of His grace, and that He may display His grace, let us abide therein. “To the praise of His glory.” What is this? that who should praise Him? that who should glorify Him? that we, that Angels, that Archangels, yea, or the whole creation? And what were that? Nothing. The Divine nature knoweth no want. And wherefore then would He have us praise and glorify Him? It is that our love towards Him may be kindled more fervently within us. He desireth nothing we can render; not our service, not our praise, nor any thing else, nothing but our salvation; this is His object in every thing He does. And he who praises and marvels at the grace displayed towards himself will thus be more devoted and more earnest.

“Which He freely bestowed on us,” he saith. He does not say, “Which He hath graciously given us,” (ἐχαρίσατο) but, “wherein He hath shown grace to us.” (ἐχαρίτωσεν) That is to say, He hath not only released us from our sins, but hath also made us meet objects of His love. It is as though one were to take a leper, wasted by distemper, and disease, by age, and poverty, and famine, and were to turn him all at once into a graceful youth, surpassing all mankind in beauty, shedding a bright lustre from his cheeks, and eclipsing the sun-beams with the glances of his eyes; and then were to set him in the very flower of his age, and after that array him in purple and a diadem and all the attire of royalty. It is thus that God hath arrayed and adorned this soul of ours, and clothed it with beauty, and rendered it an object of His delight and love. Such a soul Angels desire to look into, yea, Archangels, and all the holy ones. Such grace hath He shed over us, so dear hath He rendered us to Himself. “The King,” saith the Psalmist, “shall greatly desire thy beauty.” (Ps. 45:11.) Think what injurious words we uttered heretofore, and look, what gracious words we utter now. Wealth has no longer charms for us, nor the things that are here below, but only heavenly things, the things that are in the heavens. When a child has outward beauty, and has besides a pervading grace in all its sayings, do we not call it a beautiful child? Such as this are the faithful. Look, what words the initiated utter! What can be more beautiful than that mouth that breathes those wondrous words, and with a pure heart and pure lips, and beaming with cheerful confidence, partaketh of such a mystical table? What more beautiful than the words, with which we renounce the service of the Devil, and enlist in the service of Christ? than both that confession which is before the Baptismal laver, and that which is after it? Let us reflect as many of us as have defiled our Baptism, and weep that we may be able again to repair it.

And how is this? Not only is there this marvel, that He hath given His Son, but yet further that He hath given Him in such a way, as that the Beloved One Himself should be slain!

Yea, and more transcendent still! He hath given the Beloved for them that were hated. See, how high a price he sets upon us. If, when we hated Him and were enemies, He gave the Beloved, what will He not do now, when we are reconciled by Him through grace?

Again he descends from high to low: first speaking of adoption, and sanctification, and blamelessness, and then of the Passion, and in this not lowering his discourse and bringing it down from greater things to lesser, no rather, he was heightening it, and raising it from the lesser to the greater. For nothing is so great as that the blood of this Son should be shed for us. Greater this than both the adoption, and all the other gifts of grace, that He spared not even the Son. For great indeed is the forgiveness of sins, yet this is the far greater thing, that it should be done by the Lord’s blood. For that this is far greater than all, look how here again he exclaims,

The abovementioned gifts are riches, yet is this far more so. “Which,” saith he, “He made to abound toward us.” They are both “riches” and “they have abounded,” that is to say, were poured forth in ineffable measure. It is not possible to represent in words what blessings we have in fact experienced. For riches indeed they are, abounding riches, and He hath given in abundance riches not of man but of God, so that on all hands it is impossible that they should be expressed. And to show us how He gave it to such abundance, he adds,

That is to say, Making us wise and prudent, in that which is true wisdom, and that which is true prudence. Strange! what friendship! For He telleth us His secrets; the mysteries, saith he, of His will, as if one should say, He hath made known to us the things that are in His heart. For here is indeed the mystery which is full of all wisdom and prudence. For what will you mention equal to this wisdom! Those that were worth nothing, it hath discovered a way of raising them to wealth and abundance. What can equal this wise contrivance? He that was an enemy, he that was hated, he is in a moment lifted up on high. And not this only,—but, yet more, that it should be done at this particular time, this again was the work of wisdom; and that it should be done by means of the Cross. It were matter of long discourse here to point out, how all this was the work of wisdom, and how He had made us wise. And therefore he repeats again the words,

That is to say, this He desired, this He travailed for, as one might say, that He might be able to reveal to us the mystery. What mystery? That He would have man seated up on high. And this hath come to pass.

Heavenly things, he means to say, had been severed from earthly. They had no longer one Head. So far indeed as the system of the creation went, there was over all One God, but so far as management of one household went, this, amid the wide spread of Gentile error, was not the case, but they had been severed from His obedience.

The fulness of the times, he calls it. Observe with what nicety he speaks. And whereas he points out the origination, the purpose, the will, the first intention, as proceeding from the Father, and the fulfillment and execution as effected by the agency of the Son, yet no where does he apply to him the term minister.

“He chose us,” saith he, “in Him, having foreordained us unto adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself;” and, “to the praise of the glory of His grace, in whom we have redemption through His blood,—which He purposed in Him, unto a dispensation of the fulness of the times, to sum up all things in Christ;” and no where hath he called Him minister. If however the word “in” and the word “by” implies a mere minister, look what the matter comes to. Just in the very beginning of the Epistle, he used the expression “through the will of the Father.” The Father, he means, willed, the Son wrought. But neither does it follow, that because the Father willed, the Son is excluded from the willing; nor because the Son wrought, that the Father is deprived of the working. But to the Father and the Son, all things are common. “For all Mine are Thine,” saith He, “and Thine are Mine.” (Jo. 17:10.)

The fullness of the times, however, was His coming. After, then, He had done everything, by the ministry both of Angels, and of Prophets, and of the Law, and nothing came of it, and it was well nigh come to this, that man had been made in vain, brought into the world in vain, nay, rather to his ruin; when all were absolutely perishing, more fearfully than in the deluge, He devised this dispensation, that is by grace; that it might not be in vain, might not be to no purpose that man was created. This he calls “the fulness of the times,” and “wisdom.” And why so? Because at that time when they were on the very point of perishing, then they were rescued.

That “He might sum up” he saith.

What is the meaning of this word, “sum up?” It is “to knit together.” Let us, however, endeavor to get near the exact import. With ourselves then, in common conversation, the word means the summing into a brief compass things spoken at length, the concise account of matters described in detail. And it has this meaning. For Christ hath gathered up in Himself the dispensations carried on through a lengthened period, that is to say, He hath cut them short. For “by finishing His word and cutting it short in righteousness.” (Romans 9:28.) He both comprehended former dispensations, and added others beside. This is the meaning of “summing up.”

It has also another signification; and of what nature is this? He hath set over all one and the same Head, i. e., Christ according to the flesh, alike over Angels and men. That is to say, He hath given to Angels and men one and the same government; to the one the Incarnate, to the other God the Word. Just as one might say of a house which has some part decayed and the other sound, He hath rebuilt the house, that is to say, He has made it stronger, and laid a firmer foundation. So also here He hath brought all under one and the same Head.4 For thus will an union be effected, thus will a close bond be effected, if one and all can be brought under one and the same Head, and thus have some constraining bond of union from above. Honored then as we are with so great a blessing, so high a privilege, so great loving-kindness, let us not shame our Benefactor, let us not render in vain so great grace. Let us exemplify the life of Angels, the virtue of Angels, the conversation of Angels, yea, I entreat and conjure you, that all these things turn not to our judgment, nor to our condemnation, but to our enjoyment of those good things, which may God grant we may all attain, in Christ Jesus, our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Ghost, be glory, might, honour, now and ever, and for ages of ages.

Homily II

Paul earnestly endeavours on all occasions to display the unspeakable loving-kindness of God towards us, to the utmost of his power. For that it is impossible to do so adequately, hear his own words. O! the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God; how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out.* Still, notwithstanding, so far as it is possible, he does display it. What then is this which he is saying; In whom also we have obtained a lot, being predestinated? Above he used the word, He hath chosen us; here he saith, we have obtained a lot. But inasmuch as a lot is the effect of chance, not of deliberate choice, nor of virtue, (for it is closely allied to ignorance and accident, and oftentimes passing over the virtuous, brings forward the insignificant into notice,) observe how he corrects this very point: being predestinated, saith he, according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things. That is to say, not merely have we obtained by lot, as, again, we have not merely been chosen, (for it is God who chooses,) and so neither have we merely been allotted, (for it is God who allots,) but it is according to a purpose. This is what he says also in the Epistle to the Romans, To them that are called according to a purpose; and, whom He called, them He also justified, and whom He justified, them He also glorified.* Having first used the expression, “to them that are called according to a purpose,” and at the same time wishing to declare their privilege compared with the rest of mankind,* he speaks also of inheritance by lot, yet so as not to divest them of free will. That point then, which more properly belongs to happy fortune, is the very point he insists upon. For this inheritance by lot depends not on virtue, but, as one might say, on fortuitous circumstances. It is as though he had said, lots were cast, and He hath chosen us. The sum of the matter is this: men predestinated from deliberate choice, that is to say, having chosen them to Himself, He hath separated. He saw us, as it were, chosen by lot before we were born. For marvellous is the foreknowledge of God, and acquainted with all things or ever they come to pass.

But mark now how on all occasions he takes pains to point out, that it is not the result of any change of purpose, but that these matters had been thus drawn out from the very first, so that we are in no wise inferior to the Jews in this respect; and how, in consequence, he does every thing with this view. How then is it that Christ Himself saith, I am not sent, save unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel?* And said again to His disciples, Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not.* And yet that Paul again himself says, It was necessary that the word of God should first have been spoken to you, but seeing ye put it from you and judge yourselves unworthy of everlasting life, lo, we turn unto the Gentiles.* These expressions, I say, are used with this design, that no one may suppose that this work came to pass incidentally only. According to the purpose, he says, of Him that worketh all things after the counsel of His own will. That is to say, “He had no after workings; in that He had drawn out all things from the very first.” Thus he adds the conclusion himself, according to the counsel of His will. So that it was not merely because the Jews did not listen that He called the Gentiles, nor was it of mere necessity, nor was it on any inducement arising from them.

That is to say, by whom. Observe how he on all occasions speaks of Christ, as the Author of all things, and in no case gives Him the title of a subordinate agent, or a minister. And so again, elsewhere in his Epistle to the Hebrews, he says, that God Who in times past spake unto our Fathers in the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us in His Son*, i.e. by His Son.

The word of truth, he says, no longer that of the type, nor of the image.

The Gospel of your salvation. And well does he call it the Gospel of salvation, intimating in the one word a contrast to the law, in the other, a contrast with punishment to come. For what is the message, but the Gospel of salvation, which forbears to destroy those that are worthy of destruction.

Here again, the word sealed, is an indication of especial forecast. He does not speak of our being predestinated only, nor of our being allotted our inheritance, but further, of our being sealed. For just as though one were to make those who should fall to his lot manifest, so also did God separate them for believing, and sealed them for the allotment of the things to come.

You see how, in process of time, He makes them objects of wonder. So long as they were in His foreknowledge, they were manifest to no one, but when they were sealed, they became manifest, though not in the same way as we are; for they will be manifest except a few. The Israelites also were sealed, but that was by circumcision, like the brutes and reasonless creatures. We too are sealed, but it is as sons, with the Spirit.

But what is meant by, with the Spirit of promise? Doubtless it means that we have received that Spirit according to promise. For there are two promises, the one by the prophets, the other from the Son.

By the Prophets.—Hearken to the words of Joel; I will pour out of My spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.* And hearken again to the words of Christ; And ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you, and ye shall be witnesses unto Me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.* And truly, the Apostle means, He ought, as God, to have been believed; however, he does not ground his affirmation upon this, but examines it like a case where man is concerned, speaking much as he does in the Epistle to the Hebrews; where he says, That by two immutable things in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation.* Thus here also he makes the things already bestowed a sure token of the promise of those which are yet to come. For this reason he further calls them an earnest, for an earnest is a part of the whole. He hath purchased, what we are most concerned in, our salvation; and hath given us an earnest in the mean while. Why then did He not give the whole at once? Because neither have we, on our part, done the whole of our work. We have believed. This is a beginning; and He too on His part hath given an earnest. When we shew our faith by our works, then He will add the rest. Nay, more, He hath given yet another pledge,* His own blood, and hath promised another still. In the same way as in case of war they give hostages between nation and nation: just so hath God also given His Son as a pledge of peace and solemn treaties, and, further, the Holy Spirit also which is from Him. For they, that are in deed partakers of the Spirit, know that He is the earnest of our inheritance. Such an one was Paul, who here already had a foretaste of the blessings above. And this is why he was so eager, and yearned to be released from things below, and groaned within himself. He transferred his whole mind thither, and saw every thing with different eyes. Thou hast no part in the reality, and therefore failest in the description. Were we all partakers of the Spirit, as we ought to be partakers, then should we behold the Heavens, and the order of things that is there.

It is an earnest, however, of what? of

For our absolute redemption takes place then. For now we have our conversation in the world, we are liable to many human accidents, and are living amongst ungodly men. But our absolute redemption will be then, when there shall be no sins, no human disasters, when we shall not be indiscriminately mixed. At present, however, there is but an earnest, because at present we are far distant from these blessings. Yet is our conversation not upon earth; even now we are out of the pale of the things that are here below. Yes, we are sojourners even now.

This he adds in immediate connection. And why? Because it would serve to give those who heard it full assurance. Were it for our sake only, he means to say, that God did this, there might be some room for misgiving. But if it be for His own sake, and in order to display His goodness, he assigns, as a sort of witness, a reason why these things never possibly could be otherwise. We find the same language up and down applied to the case of the Israelites. “Do Thou this for us for Thy Name’s sake;”* and again, God Himself said, “I do it for Mine own sake;” and so Moses, “Do it, if for nothing else, yet for the glory of Thy Name.”* This gives those who hear it full assurance; it relieves them to be told, that whatever He promises, for His own goodness’ sake He will most surely perform.

Now then, come, let us examine this very question, whether sins are the effect of force and constraint, or of indolence and great carelessness. The law says, “Thou shalt not kill.” What sort of force, what sort of violence, is there here? Violence indeed it is to kill, for who amongst us would as a matter of choice plunge his sword into the throat of his neighbour, and stain his hand with blood? Not one. Thou seest then that, on the contrary, sin is more properly matter of violence and constraint. For God hath implanted in our nature a charm, which binds us to love one another. Every beast (it saith) loveth his like, and man his neighbours.* Seest thou that we have from our nature seeds which tend to virtue; whereas those of vice are contrary to nature? and if these latter predominate, this is but an evidence of our exceeding indolence.

Again, what is adultery? What sort of necessity is there to bring us to this? Doubtless, it will be said, the tyranny of lust. But why, tell me, should this be? What, is it not in every one’s power to have his own wife, and thus to put a stop to this tyranny? True, he will say, but a sort of passion for my neighbour’s wife seizes hold on me. Here the question is no longer one of necessity. Passion is no matter of necessity, no one loves of necessity, but of deliberate choice and free will. Indulgence of nature, indeed, is perhaps matter of necessity, but to love one woman rather than another is no matter of necessity. Nor indeed is the point in question natural desire, but vanity, and wantonness, and unbounded licentiousness. For which is according to reason, that a man should have an espoused wife, and her the mother of his children, or one not acknowledged? Know ye not that intimacy breeds attachment? This therefore is not the fault of nature. Blame not natural desire. Natural desire was bestowed with a view to marriage; it was given with a view to the procreation of children, not with a view to adultery and corruption. The laws, too, know how to make allowance for those sins which are of necessity,—or rather there is no such thing as a sin of necessity, but all arises from wantonness. God hath not so framed man’s nature as that he should have any necessity to sin, since were this the case, there would be no such thing as punishment. We ourselves exact no account of things done of necessity and by constraint, much less would God, so full of mercy and loving-kindness.

Again, what is stealing? is it matter of necessity? Yes, a man will say, because poverty causes this. Poverty, however, rather compels us to work, not to steal. Poverty, therefore, has in fact the contrary effect. Theft is the effect of idleness; whereas poverty produces usually not idleness, but a love of begging. So that this sin is the effect of indolence, as you may learn from hence. Which, I ask, is the more difficult, the more distasteful, to wander about at night without sleep, to break open houses, and walk about in the dark, and to have one’s life in one’s hand, and to be always prepared for murder, and to be shivering and dead with fear; or to be attending to one’s daily task, in full enjoyment of safety and security? This last is the easier task; and it is because this is easier, that the majority practise it rather than the other, Thou seest then that it is virtue which is according to nature, and vice which is against nature, in the same way as disease and health are.

What, again, are falsehood and perjury? What necessity can they possibly imply? None whatever, nor any compulsion; it is a matter to which we proceed voluntarily. We are distrusted, it will be said. True, distrusted we are, because we choose it. For we might, if we would, be trusted more upon our character, than upon our oath. Why, tell me, is it that we do not trust some, no, not on their oath, whilst we deem others trustworthy even independently of oaths. Seest thou that there is no need of oaths in any case? ‘When such an one speaks,’ we say, ‘I believe him, even without any oath, but thee, no, not with thy oaths.’ Thus then an oath is unnecessary; and is in fact an evidence rather of distrust than of confidence. For where a man is over ready to take his oath, he does not leave us to entertain any great idea of his scrupulousness. So that the man who is most constant in his use of oaths, has on no occasion any necessity for using one, and he who never uses one on any occasion, has in himself the full benefit of its use. Hence it will follow, that in no case is there any necessity for an oath, to produce confidence; since we see that they are the more readily trusted who abstain from taking oaths.

But again, if a man is injurious, is this a matter of necessity? Yes, he will say, because his passion carries him away,* and burns within him, and will never let the soul be at rest. Man, the violence is not the effect of anger,* but of littleness of mind. Were it the effect of anger, all men, whenever they were angry, would never cease committing acts of violence. We have resentment given us, not that we may commit acts of violence on our neighbours, but that we may correct those that are in sin, that we may bestir ourselves, to prevent our becoming sluggish Anger is implanted in us as a sort of sting, to make us gnash with our teeth against the devil, to make us thus vehement against him, not to set us in array against each other. We have arms given us, not to make us at war amongst ourselves, but that we may employ our whole armour against the enemy. Art thou prone to anger? Be so against thine own sins: chastise thy soul, scourge thy conscience, be a severe judge, and merciless in thy sentence against thine own sins. This is the way to turn anger to account. It was for this that God implanted it within us.

But again, is plunder a matter of necessity? No, in no wise. Tell me, what manner of necessity is there to be grasping: what manner of compulsion? Poverty, a man will say, causes it, and the want of common necessaries. Now this is the very reason why you ought not to be grasping. Wealth so gotten has no security in it. You are doing the very same thing as a man would do, who, if he were asked why he laid the foundation of his house in the sand, should say, he did it because of the frost and rain. Whereas this would be the very reason why he should not lay it in the sand. They are the very foundations which the rain, and blasts, and wind, most quickly overturn. So that if thou wouldest be wealthy, never be rapacious; if thou wouldest transmit wealth to thy children, get righteous wealth, at least, if any there be that is such. Because this abides, and remains firm, whereas that which is not such, quickly wastes and perishes. Tell me, hast thou a mind to be rich, and dost thou take the goods of others? Surely this is not wealth: wealth consists in retaining what is thine own. He that is in possession of the goods of others, never can be a wealthy man; since at that rate even your very silk venders, because they have the piece consigned to them by others, would be the wealthiest and the richest of men. Though for the time, indeed, it is theirs, still we do not call them wealthy notwithstanding; and why forsooth? Because they are in possession of what belongs to others. For though the piece itself happens to be theirs, still the money it is worth is not theirs. Nay, and even if the money is in their hands, still this is not wealth. Now, if consignments thus given render not men more wealthy because we so soon resign them, how can those which arise from rapine render them wealthy? However, if at any rate thou desirest to be wealthy, (for the matter is not one of necessity,) what greater good is it that thou wouldest fain enjoy? Is it a longer life? Yet, surely men of this character are short-lived. Oftentimes they pay the penalty of plunder and rapaciousness, by an untimely death; and not only by the loss of the enjoyment of their gains, but by a departure, having gained but little, and hell to boot. Oftentimes too they die of diseases, which are the fruits of self-indulgence, and of toil, and of anxiety. Fain would I understand why it is that wealth is so eagerly pursued by mankind. Why surely for this reason hath God set a limit and a boundary to our nature, that we may have no need to go on seeking wealth beyond it; and hath commanded us, for instance, to clothe the body in one, or perhaps in two garments; and there is no need of any more to cover us. Where is the good of ten thousand changes of raiment, and those moth-eaten? The stomach has its appointed bound, and any thing given beyond this, will of necessity destroy the whole man. Where then is the use of your herds, and flocks, and cutting up of flesh? We require but one roof to shelter us. Where then is the use of your vast ground-plots, and costly buildings? Dost strip the poor, that vultures and jackdaws may have where to dwell? And what a hell do not these things deserve? Many are frequently raising splendid edifices, with pillars and costly marbles, in places which they never so much as saw. What scheme is there that they have not adopted. Yet neither themselves reap the benefit, nor any one else. The desolateness does not allow them to get away thither; and yet not even thus do they desist. You see that these things are not done for profit-sake, but in all these cases folly, and absurdity, and vainglory, is the motive. And this, I beseech you, let us avoid, that we may be enabled to avoid also every other evil, and may obtain those good things which are promised to them that love Him, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Homily III

Never was any thing equal to the yearnings of the Apostle, never any thing like the sympathy and the affectionateness of the blessed Paul, who made his every prayer in behalf of whole cities and peoples, and writes the same to all, I thank my God for you, making mention of you in my prayers.* Think how many he had in his mind, whom it were a labour so much as to remember; how many he made mention of in his prayers, giving thanks to God for them all, as though he himself had received the greatest blessing.

Wherefore, he says, i.e. because of what is to come, because of the good things that are laid up in store for them whose faith and life are right.* And it is meet then to give thanks to God both for all the things which mankind have received at His hands, both heretofore and hereafter; and meet to give Him thanks also for the faith of them that believe.

After I heard, saith he, of your faith in the Lord Jesus, and love unto all the saints.

He on all occasions knits together and combines faith and love, a glorious pair; nor does he mention the saints of that country only, but all.

I cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers.

What is thy prayer, and what thy entreaty? It is

That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the spirit of wisdom and revelation. Two things he requires them to understand, as it is their duty to understand them; to what blessings they are called, and by what method they have been released from their former state. He says, however, himself, that these points are three. How then are they three? If we further understand touching the things to come; for from the good things laid up for us, we shall know His ineffable and surpassing riches, And from understanding who we were, and how we believed. we shall know His power and omnipotence, in turning again to Himself those who had been so long time estranged from Him. For the weakness of God is stronger than men.* Inasmuch as it is by the self-same power by which He raised Christ from the dead, that He hath also drawn us to Himself. Nor is that power limited to the resurrection, but far exceeds it.

Vast indeed are the mysteries and secrets of which He hath made us partakers. And these it is not possible for us to understand, otherwise than by being partakers of the Holy Ghost, and by receiving abundant grace. And it is for this reason that Paul prays thus, That the Father of glory, that is, He that hath given us vast blessings, for he constantly appeals to Him according to the subject he is upon, as, for instance, when he says, The Father of mercies and God of all comfort.And, again, the Prophet says, The Lord is my strength and my might.

He has no name by which he may represent these things, and on all occasions calls them glory, which is in fact, with us, the name and appellation of every kind of magnificence. Mark, of glory, he says, the Father; but of Christ the God; What then? Is the Son inferior to the glory? No, there is no one, not even a maniac, would say so.

That is, may raise and elevate your understanding, for it is not possible otherwise to understand these things. For the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him.* So then, there is need of spiritual wisdom, that we may perceive things spiritual, that we may see things hidden. That Spirit revealeth all things, He prepares to tell us the mysteries of God. Now the knowledge of the mysteries of God, the Spirit alone comprehends, which also searcheth His deep things. It is not said, “that Angel, or Archangel, or any other created power, may give,” that is, confer upon you a spiritual gift. And if this be of revelation, then is the discovery of arguments consequently vain. For he that hath learned God, that knoweth God, shall no longer doubt concerning any thing. He will not say, This is impossible, and That is possible, and How did the other thing come to pass? If we learn God, as we ought to know Him; if we learn God from Him from whom we ought to learn Him, from the Spirit Himself; then shall we no longer doubt concerning any thing. And hence it is that he says,

He that hath learned what God is, will have no misgiving about His promises, will have no disbelief about what hath been already brought to pass. He prays, then, that there may be given them the spirit of wisdom and revelation. Yet still he also establishes it, as far as he can himself, by arguments, and from already existing facts. For, whereas he was about to mention some things which had already come to pass, and others which had not as yet happened; he makes those which have been brought to pass, a pledge of those which have not: in some such way, I mean, as this,

It is as yet, he means, hidden, but not so to the faithful.

And, again,

This too is as yet hidden.

But what is clear? that through His power we have believed that He hath raised Christ. For to persuade souls, is a thing far more miraculous than to raise a dead body. And why so? I will endeavour to make this clear. Hearken then. Christ said to the dead, Lazarus, come forth,* and straightway he obeyed. Peter said, Tabitha, arise,* and she did not refuse. He Himself shall speak the word at the last day, and all shall rise, and that in such an instant, that they which are yet alive, shall not prevent them which are asleep,* and all shall come to pass, all run together in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.* But in the matter of believing, it is not thus, but how is it? Hearken then to Him again, how He saith, How often would I have gathered thy children together, and ye would not.* You perceive that this last is the more difficult. Accordingly, it is upon this that he builds up the whole argument; because to human calculations it is far more difficult to influence the choice, than to work upon the powers of nature. And the reason is this, it is because He would thus have us virtuous of our own will.* Thus with good reason does he say,

The exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe.

Yes, when Prophets had availed nothing, nor Angels, nor Archangels, when the whole creation, both visible and invisible, had failed, (the visible lying before us, and without any power to guide us, and much also which is invisible,) then He ordered His own coming, to shew us that it was a matter which required Divine power.

That is, the unutterable glory; for what language shall be adequate to express that glory of which the saints shall then be partakers? None. But verily there is need of grace in order that the understanding may perceive it, and admit even so much as at least one little ray. Some things indeed they had known even before; now he was desirous that they should learn more, and know it more clearly. Seest thou how great things He hath wrought? He hath raised up Christ. Is this a small thing? Then look again. He hath set Him at His right hand. And shall any language then be able to represent this? Him that is of the earth, more mute than the fishes, and made the sport of devils, He hath in a moment raised up on high. Truly this is indeed the exceeding greatness of His power. And behold, whither He hath raised Him.

He hath made Him far above all created nature, far above all principality and power.

Need then indeed is there of the Spirit, of an understanding wise in the knowledge of Him. Need then is there indeed of revelation. Reflect, how vast is the distance between the nature of man and of God. Yet from this vile estate hath He exalted him to that high dignity. Nor does he mount by degrees, first one step, then another, then a third. Amazing! He does not simply say, above, but, far above; for God is above those powers which are above. And thither then hath He raised him, him that is one of us, brought him from the lowest point to the supremest sovereignty, to that beyond which there is no other honour. Above all principality, he says, not, i.e. over one and not over another, but over all,

Whatever there be in Heaven, He has become above all. And what most calls for our admiration is this, that this is said of Him that was raised from the dead; for of God the Word, it cannot possibly be, because what insects are in comparison of man, this the whole creation is in comparison of God. And why do I say insects? If all mankind are to be counted as a drop of moisture, and were counted as the turn of a balance, consider the invisible powers as insects. It is not then of God the Word that he thus speaks, but of Him that was one of us. This is great and surprising indeed. Yes, He raised Him up from the very lowest parts of the earth. If all the nations are as a drop, how small a portion then of that drop is a single man! Yet Him hath He made higher than all things, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come. Therefore powers there are whose names are to us unintelligible, and unknown.

Not simply so set Him above them as to be honoured above them, nor by way of comparison with them, but so that He should sit over them as His slaves. Amazing! Awful indeed is that system, where every created power hath been made the slave of man by reason of God the Word dwelling in Him. For it is possible for a man to be above others, without having others in subjection, but only as preferred before them. But here it is not so. No, He hath put all things in subjection under His feet. And not simply put them in subjection, but in the most abject subjection, that below which there can be none. Therefore he adds, under His feet.

Amazing! Look, again, whither He hath raised the Church! as though he were lifting it up by some engine, he hath raised it up to a vast height, and set it on yonder throne; for where the Head is, there is the body also. There is no interval to separate between the Head and the body; for were there a separation, then were the one no longer a body, then were the other no longer a head. Over all things, he says. What is meant by “over all things?” It either means Christ, who is over all things both visible and intelligible, or else that He hath done this to crown all His other blessings, in that He hath given the Son to be the Head. He hath suffered neither Angel nor Archangel nor any other being to be above Him. But not only in this hath He exalted us, in that He hath raised one like ourselves, but also in that He hath prepared the whole race in common to follow Him, to cling to Him, to accompany His train.

In order then that when you hear of the Head you may not conceive the notion of supremacy only, but also of consolidation, and that you may not behold Him as supreme Ruler only, but as Head of a body, he adds,

As though this were not sufficient to shew the close connection and relationship, what does he add? The fulness of Christ is the Church. And rightly, for the complement of the head is the body, and the complement of the body is the head. Mark what great arrangement Paul observes, how he spares not a single word, that he may represent the glory of God. The complement, he says, i.e. the head is, as it were, filled up by the body, because the body is composed and made up of all its several parts, and hath need of every one. Observe how he introduces Him as having need of all alike; for unless we be many, and one be the hand, and another the foot, and another some other member, the whole body is not filled up. It is by all then that His body is filled up. Then is the head filled up, then is the body rendered perfect, when we are all together, all knit together and united. Perceivest thou then the riches of the glory of His inheritance? the exceeding greatness of His power towards them that believe? the hope of your calling?

Let us feel awed at the closeness of our relation, let us dread lest any one should be cut off from this body, lest any one should fall from it, lest any one should appear unworthy of it. If any one were to place a diadem about our head, a crown of gold, should we not do every thing we could that we might seem worthy of the lifeless jewels? But now it is not a diadem that is placed about our head, but, what is far greater, Christ is made our very Head, and yet we pay no regard to it. Yet Angels reverence that Head, and Archangels, and all those powers above. And shall we, which are His body, be awed neither on the one account nor the other? And where then shall be our hope of salvation? Conceive to yourself the throne, the royal throne, conceive the immensity of the privilege. This, at least if we chose, might more avail to startle us, yea, even than hell itself. For, even though hell were not, that we should be honoured with so vast a privilege, and should be found base and unworthy of it, what torment, what punishment must not this carry with it? Think near whom thy Head is seated, (this single consideration is amply sufficient for any purpose whatever,) on whose right hand He is placed! Yes, the Head itself is far above all principality, and power, and might. Yet is the body of this Head trampled on by the very devils. Nay, God forbid it should be thus; for if it be thus, such a body can be a body no longer. Thy own head the more respectable of thy servants reverence, and dost thou subject thy body to be the sport of them that insult it? How sore punishment then shalt thou not deserve. If a man should bind the feet of the emperor with bonds and fetters, will he not be liable to the extremity of punishment? Dost thou expose the whole body to fierce monsters, and not shudder?

However, since our discourse is concerning the Lord’s body, come, and let us turn our thoughts to That which was crucified,* which was nailed, which is sacrificed. If thou art the body of Christ, bear the Cross, for He bore it: bear the spitting, bear the buffeting, bear the nails. Such was that Body, that Body was sinless: He did no sin, it saith, neither was guile found in His mouth.* His hand did every thing for the benefit of them that needed, His mouth uttered not a word of those things which are not convenient. He heard the cry, “Thou hast a devil,” and He answered nothing.

Further, since our discourse is concerning this Body, as many of us as partake of that Body and taste of that Blood, consider that we are partaking of that which is in no wise different from that Body, nor separate, as regards participation; that we taste of that Body that sitteth above, that is adored by Angels, that is next to the Power that is incorruptible. Alas! how many ways to salvation are open to us! He hath made us His own body, He hath imparted to us His own body, and yet not one of these things turns us away from what is evil. Oh the darkness, the depth of the abyss, the apathy! Set your affections, saith he, on things above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.* And after this, some set their affections upon money, others are carried captive by their passions!

Do ye not see, that even in our own body, when any part is superfluous and useless, it is cut off, is cut away? It is of no use that it has belonged to the body, when it is mutilated, and mortified, and decayed, and is, moreover, detrimental to the rest. Let us not then be too confident, because we have been once made members of this body. If this body of ours, which is but a natural body, nevertheless suffers amputation, what dreadful evil shall it not undergo, if the moral principle should fail? When the body partakes not of this natural food, when the pores are stopped up, then it mortifies; when the ducts are closed, then it is palsied. So is it with us also, when we stop our ears, our soul becomes palsied; when we partake not of the spiritual food, when, instead of corrupt humours, evil dispositions impair us, all these things engender disease, dangerous disease, disease that wastes. And then there will be need of that fire, there will be need of the cutting asunder. Christ cannot endure that we should enter into the bride-chamber with such a body as this. If He led away, and cast out the man that was clothed in filthy garments, what will He not do unto the man who attaches filth to the body; how will He not dispose of him?

I observe many partaking of Christ’s Body lightly and heedlessly, and rather from custom and form, than consideration and understanding. When, saith a man, the holy season of Lent sets in, whatever a man may be, he partakes of the mysteries, or, when the day of the Lord’s Epiphany comes. And yet this does not make a fit time for approaching. For it is not the Epiphany, nor is it Lent, that makes people fit to approach, but it is sincerity and purity of soul. With this, approach at all times; without it, never. For as often, saith he, as ye do this, ye do shew the Lord’s death,* i.e. “ye make a remembrance of the salvation that has been wrought for you,* and of the benefits which I have bestowed.” Consider those who partook of the sacrifices under the old Covenant, how great abstinence did they practise? How did they not conduct themselves? What did they not perform? They were always purifying themselves. And dost thou, when thou drawest nigh to a sacrifice, at which the very Angels tremble, dost thou measure the matter by the revolutions of seasons; and how shalt thou present thyself before the judgment-seat of Christ, thou who presumest upon His body with polluted hands and lips? Thou wouldest not presume to kiss a king with an unclean mouth, and dost thou kiss the King of heaven with an unclean soul? It is an outrage. Tell me, wouldest thou choose to come to the Sacrifice with unwashen hands? No, I suppose, not. But thou wouldest rather choose not to come at all, than come with soiled hands. And then, thus scrupulous as thou art in this little matter, dost thou come with soiled soul, and thus dare to touch it?* And yet the hands hold it but for a time, whereas into the soul it is received entirely. What, do ye not see the holy vessels so thoroughly cleansed all over, so resplendent? Our souls ought to he purer than they, more holy, more brilliant than they. And why so? Because those vessels are made so for our sakes. They partake not of Him that is in them, they perceive Him not. But we do;—yes, verily. Now then, thou wouldest not choose to make use of a soiled vessel, and dost thou approach with a soiled soul? Observe the vast inconsistency of the thing. At the other times ye come not, no, not though often ye are clean; but at Easter, however flagrant an act ye may have committed, ye come. Oh! the force of custom and of prejudice! In vain is the daily Sacrifice, in vain do we stand before the Altar; there is no one to partake. These things I am saying, not to induce you to partake any how, but that ye should render yourselves worthy to partake. Art thou not worthy of the Sacrifice, nor of the participation? If so, then neither art thou of the prayer. Thou hearest the herald, standing, and saying, “As many as are in penitence, all depart.” As many as do not partake, are in penitence. If thou art one of those that are in penitence, thou oughtest not to partake; for he that partakes not, is one of those that are in penitence. Why then does he say, “Depart, ye that are not qualified to pray,” whilst thou hast the effrontery to stand still? But no, thou art not of that number, thou art of the number of those who are qualified to partake, and yet art indifferent about it, and regardest the matter as nothing.

Look, I entreat: a royal table is set before you, Angels minister at that table, the King Himself is there, and dost thou stand still and gape? Are thy garments defiled, and yet dost thou make no account of it?—or are they clean? Then fall down and partake. Every day He cometh in to see the guests, and converseth with them all. Yes, at this moment is he speaking to your conscience; “Friends, why stand ye here, not having on a wedding garment?” He said not, Why didst thou sit down? no, before he sat down, He declared him to be unworthy, so much as to come in. He saith not, “Why didst thou sit down to meat,” but, “Why camest thou in?” And these are the words that He is at this very moment addressing to one and all of us that stand here with such shameless effrontery. For every one, that partaketh not of the mysteries, is standing here in shameless effrontery. It is for this reason, that they which are in sins are first of all put forth; for just as when a master is present at his table, it is not right that those servants who have offended him should be present, but they are sent out of the way: just so also here when the sacrifice is brought forth, and Christ, the Lord’s sheep, is sacrificed; when thou hearest the words, “Let us pray together,” when thou beholdest the curtains drawn up, then imagine that the Heavens are let down from above, and that the Angels are descending!

As then it is not meet that any one of the uninitiated be present, so neither is it that one of them that are initiated, and yet at the same time defiled. Tell me, suppose any one were invited to a feast, and were to wash his hands, and sit down, and be all ready at the table, and after all refuse to partake; is he not insulting the man who invited him? were it not better for such an one never to have come at all? Now it is just in the same way that thou hast come here. Thou hast sung the Hymn with the rest: thou hast declared thyself to be of the number of them that are worthy, by not departing with them that are unworthy. Why stay, and yet not partake of the table? I am unworthy, thou wilt say. Then art thou also as unfit for that communion thou hast had in the prayers. For it is not by means of the offerings only,* but also by means of those canticles that the Spirit descendeth all around. Do we not see our own servants, first scouring the table with a sponge, and cleaning the house, and then setting out the entertainment? This is what is done by the prayers, by the cry of the herald. We scour the Church, as it were, with a sponge, that all things may be set out in a pure church, that there may be neither spot nor wrinkle.* Unworthy, indeed, both our eyes of these sights, and unworthy our ears to hear! And if so much as a beast, it is said, touch the mountain, it shall be stoned.* Thus then they were not worthy so much as to set foot on it, and yet afterwards they both came near, and beheld where God had stood. And thou mayest, afterwards, come near, and behold: when, however, He is present, depart. Thou art no more allowed to be here than the Catechumen is. For it is not at all the same thing never to have reached the mysteries, and when thou hast reached them, to stumble at them and despise them, and to make thyself unworthy of this thing. One might enter upon more points, and those more awful still; not however to burthen your understanding, even these will suffice. They who are not brought to their right senses with these, certainly will not be with more.

That I may not then be the means of increasing your condemnation, I entreat you, not to forbear coming, but to render yourselves worthy both of being present, and of approaching. Tell me, were any king to give command and to say, “If any man does this, let him keep away from my table;” say, would ye not do all ye could to be admitted? He hath invited us to heaven, to the table of the great and wonderful King, and do we shrink and hesitate, instead of hastening and running to it? And what then is our hope of salvation? We cannot lay the blame on our weakness; we cannot on our nature. It is indolence and nothing else that renders us unworthy.

So far have I spoken of myself. But may He that pricketh the heart, He that giveth the Spirit of compunction, pierce your hearts, and plant the seeds in the depth of them, that so through His fear ye may conceive, and bring forth the spirit of salvation, and come near with boldness. For, thy children, it is said, are like the young olive plants round about thy table.* O, then, let there be nothing old, nothing wild, nothing unkindly, nothing harsh. For of such sort are the young plants that are fit for fruit, for the beautiful fruit, fruit I mean of the thriving olive-tree. And thriving they are, so as all to be round about the table, and come together here, not heedlessly, or listlessly, but with fear and reverence. For thus shall ye behold with confidence even Christ Himself in heaven, and shall be counted worthy of that heavenly kingdom, which may God grant we may all attain, through grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, now and ever, and for ages of ages.

Homily IV

There is, we know, a corporal, and there is also a spiritual, dying. Of the first it is no crime to partake, nor is there any penalty incurred in it; inasmuch as it is a matter of nature, not of deliberate choice. It had its origin in the transgression of the first-created man, and thenceforward in its issue it passed into a nature, and, at all events, will quickly be brought to a termination; whereas this spiritual dying, here before us, being a matter of deliberate choice, has criminality, and has no termination. Observe then how Paul, having already shewn how exceedingly great a thing it is, in so much that to heal a deadened soul is a far greater thing than to raise the dead, so now again lays it down in all its real greatness.

And you, saith he, which were dead in trespasses and sins, wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience. You observe the gentleness of Paul, and how on all occasions he speaks in terms of encouragement to the hearer, and does not bear too hard upon him. For whereas he had said, Ye have arrived at the very last degree of wickedness, (for such is the meaning of becoming dead,) that he may not excessively distress them, (because men are put to shame when their former misdeeds are brought forward, cancelled though they be, and no longer attended with danger,) he gives them, as it were, an accomplice, that it may not be supposed that the work is all their own, and that accomplice a powerful one. And who then is this? The Devil. He does much the same also in the Epistle to the Corinthians, where, after saying, Be not deceived, neither fornicators, nor idolaters, and after enumerating all the other vices, and adding in conclusion, they shall not inherit the kingdom of God; he then adds, and such were some of you;* he does not say absolutely, “were ye,” but “were some of you,” that is, thus in some sort were ye. Here the heretics fiercely set upon us. They tell us that these expressions are used with reference to God, and letting loose their unbridled tongue, they apply these things to God, which belong to the Devil alone. How then are we to put them to silence? By the very words they themselves use; for, if He is righteous, as ye yourselves allow, and yet hath done these things, this is no longer the act of a righteous being, but rather of a being most unrighteous and wicked; and wicked God cannot possibly be.

Further, why does he call the Devil the prince of the world? Because nearly the whole human race has surrendered itself to him, and all are his willing and deliberate slaves. And to Christ, though He promises unnumbered blessings, not any one so much as gives any heed; whilst to the other, though he not only holds out nothing of the sort, but even leads us on to hell, all yield themselves. His kingdom then is in this world, and he has, with few exceptions, more, and more obedient subjects, than God, in consequence of our indolence.

Here again he means, that Satan occupies the space under Heaven, and that the incorporeal powers are spirits of the air, under his operation. For that his kingdom is secular,* i.e. will cease with the present world, hear what he says at the end of the Epistle; We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world; where, lest when you hear of rulers of the world,* you should therefore say that the Devil is uncreated, he adds, of the darkness of this world. So elsewhere he calls a perverse time, an evil world,* not of the creatures. For he seems to me, having had dominion beneath the sky, not to have fallen from his dominion, even after his transgression.

You observe that it is not by force, nor by compulsion, but by persuasion,* he wins us over; disobedience or untractableness is his word, as though one were to say, by guile and persuasion he draws all his votaries to himself. And not only in this way does he give them a word of encouragement, by telling them they have an associate, but also by ranking himself with them.

All, because he cannot say that any one is excepted.

That is, having no spiritual affections. Yet, lest he should be suspected as saying these things to the disparagement of the flesh, or lest it should be supposed that the transgression was not great, observe how he guards the matter,

That is, the pleasurable passions. We provoked God to anger, he saith, we provoked Him to wrath, we were wrath, and nothing else. For as he who is a child of man is by nature man, so also were we children of wrath even as others; i.e. no one was free, but we all did things worthy of wrath.

Not merely merciful, but rich in mercy; as it is said also in another place; In the multitude of thy mercies.* And again, Have mercy upon me, according to the greatness of thy mercy.*

He is pointing out whence it was that He loved us. For these things are not deserving of love, but of wrath, and of the sorest punishment. And thus it was of great mercy.

Again is Christ introduced, and it is a matter well worthy of our belief, because if the Firstfruits live, so do we also. He hath quickened both Him, and us. Seest thou that all this is said of Christ incarnate? Beholdest thou the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe?* Them that were dead, them that were children of wrath, them hath he quickened. Beholdest thou the hope of his calling?

Beholdest thou the glory of His inheritance? Yea, will one say, that He hath raised us up together, is plain. But that He hath made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, how does this hold? It holds as truly, as that He hath raised us together. For as yet no one is actually raised, excepting that inasmuch as the Head hath risen, we also are raised, just as in the history, when Jacob did obeisance, his wife also did obeisance to Joseph. And so in the same way hath He also made us to sit together.* For since the Head sitteth, the body sitteth also, and therefore he adds in conclusion, in Christ Jesus. Or again, if it means, not this, but that by the laver of Baptism He hath raised us together, how then in that case hath He made us to sit together with Him? Because, saith he, if we suffer we shall also reign with Him,* if we be dead with Him we shall also live with Him. And need then is there of the Spirit and of revelation, in order to understand the depth of these mysteries. And then that ye may have no distrust about the matter, observe what he adds further.

Whereas he had been speaking of the things which concerned Christ, and these might not in any way extend to us, (for what concern, it might be said, is that to us, suppose He hath risen,) therefore he shews that they do moreover extend to us, inasmuch as He is made one with us. Only that our concern in the matter he states separately. Us, saith he, who were dead in trespasses hath He raised up together, and made us sit together. Wherefore, as I was saying, be not unbelieving, take the demonstration he adduces both from former things, and from His Headship, and also from His desire to shew forth His goodness. For how will He shew it, unless this come to pass? And He will shew it in the ages to come. What? that the blessings are both great, and more certain than any other. Now indeed the things which are said may to the unbelievers seem to be foolishness; but then all shall know them. Wouldest thou understand too, how He hath made us sit together with Him? Hear what Christ Himself saith to the disciples, Ye shall sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.* And again, But to sit on My right hand and on My left is not Mine to give, but to them for whom it hath been prepared of My Father.* So that it hath been prepared. And well saith he, in His kindness towards us through Christ Jesus, for to sit on His right hand is honour above all honour, it is that beyond which there is none other. This then he saith, that even we shall sit there. Truly this is surpassing riches, truly surpassing is the greatness of His power, to make us sit down with Christ. Yea, hadst thou ten thousand souls, wouldest thou not lose them for His sake? Yea, hadst thou to enter the flames, oughtest thou not readily to endure it? And He Himself too saith again, I will that where I am, there also My servants be.* Why surely had ye to be cut to pieces every day, ought ye not, for the sake of these promises cheerfully to embrace it? Think, where He sitteth? above all principality and power. And with whom it is that thou sittest? With Him. And who thou art? A dead carcase, by nature a child of wrath. And what good hast thou done? Not any. Truly now it is high time to exclaim, Oh the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God!*

In order then that the greatness of the benefits bestowed may not raise thee too high, observe how he brings thee down; by grace ye are saved, saith he,

Then, that, on the other hand, our free-will be not impaired, he adds also our part in the work, and yet again cancels it, and adds,

Neither is faith, he means, of ourselves. Because had He not come, had He not called us, how had we been able to believe? for how, saith he, shall they believe, unless they hear?* So that the work of faith itself is not our own.

Was faith then, you will say, enough to save us? No; but God, saith he, hath required this, lest He should save us, barren and without work at all. His expression is, that faith saveth, but it is through God, forasmuch as it is because God so willeth, that faith saveth. Since, how, tell me, doth faith save, without works? This itself is the gift of God.

That he may excite in us proper feeling, touching this gift of grace. What then? saith a man, hath He Himself hindered our being justified by works? By no means. But no one, he saith, is justified by works, in order that the grace and loving-kindness of God may be shewn. He did not reject us as having works, but as abandoned of works He hath saved us by grace; so that no man thenceforth may have whereof to boast. And then, lest when thou hearest that the whole work is accomplished not of works but by faith, thou shouldest remain idle, observe how he continues,

Observe the words he uses. He here alludes to the regeneration, which is in reality a second creation. We have been brought from non-existence into being.* As to what we were before, we are dead, that is, the old man. We are now become, what before we were not. Truly then is this work a creation, yea, and more noble than the first; for from that one, we have our being, but from this last, we have over and above our well being.

Not merely that we should begin, but that we should walk in, for we need a virtue which shall last throughout, and may be extended on to our dying day. If we had to set out on a road leading to a royal city, and then when we had passed over the greater part of it, were to flag and sit down at the very close, it were of no use to us ever to have set out. So neither will the hope of our calling profit those who have been once put in possession of the blessing, unless we walk worthily of Him that called us.

And let no one impute cruelty to God, in that he excludes those who fail in this matter from the kingdom of Heaven. For even with men, if any one do any thing whatsoever contrary to the law, he is banished from the king’s presence. And if he transgresses so much as one of the established laws, if he lays a false accusation against another, he forfeits his office. And if he commits adultery, and is detected, he is disgraced, and even though he have done ten thousand right acts, he is undone; and if he commits murder, and is convicted, this again is enough to destroy him. Now if the laws of men are so carefully guarded, how much more should those of God be. But He is good, a man says. How long are we to be talking this foolish language? foolish, I say, not because He is good, but in that we keep thinking that His goodness will be available to us for these purposes, though I have again and again used ten thousand arguments on this subject. Listen to the Scripture, which saith, Say not, His mercy is great, He will be pacified for the multitude of my sins.* He forbids us not to say, His mercy is great. God forbid! this is not what He enjoins; rather he would have us constantly say it, and with this object Paul raises all sorts of arguments, but his object is what follows. Do not, he means, admire the loving-kindness of God with this view, with a view to sinning, and saying, “His mercy will be pacified for the multude of my sins.” For it is with this object that I too discourse so much concerning His goodness, not that we may presume upon it, and do any thing we choose, because in that way this goodness will be to the prejudice of our salvation, but that we may not despair in our sins, but may repent. For the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance,* not to greater wickedness. And if thou become depraved, because of His goodness, thou art rather belying Him before men. I see many persons thus impugning the long-suffering of God; so that if thou use it not aright, thou shalt pay the penalty. Is God a God of loving-kindness? Yes, but He is also a righteous Judge. Is He one who maketh allowance for sins? True, yet rendereth He to every man according to his works. Doth He pass by iniquity and blot out transgressions? True, yet maketh He inquisition also. How then is it, that these things are not contradictions? Contradictions they are not, if we distinguish them by their times. He doeth away iniquity here, both by the laver of Baptism, and by penitence. There He maketh inquisition of what we have done by fire and torment. If then, a man may say, I have wrought a few evil deeds, and for one of them am cast out, and forfeit the kingdom, wherefore may I not do all sorts of evil deeds? It is the argument of an ungrateful servant; still nevertheless we will proceed to solve even this. Never do that which is evil in order to do thyself good; we shall, it is true, all alike fall short of the kingdom, yet in Hell we shall not all undergo the same punishment, but one a severer, another a milder one. For now, if thou and another have despised God’s goodness,* the one in many instances, and the other in a few, ye will alike forfeit the kingdom. But if ye have not alike despised Him, but the one in a greater, the other in a less degree, in Hell ye shall perceive the difference.

Now then, why, it may be said, doth He threaten them, who perform not works of mercy, that they shall depart into the fire, and not simply into the fire, but into that which is prepared for the devil and his angels? Why and wherefore is this? Because nothing so provokes God to wrath as to injure friends; for if it is our duty to love our enemies, of what punishment shall not he be worthy, who turns away even from them that love him, and is in this respect worse than the heathen? So that in this case the greatness of the sin will rightly make such an one depart, and have his portion with the devil. Woe to him, it is said, who doeth not alms; and if this was the case under the Old Covenant, much more is it under the New. If, where the getting of wealth was allowed, and the enjoyment of it, and the care of it, there was such provision made for the succouring the poor, how much more in that Dispensation, where we are bidden to give up all? For what did not they of old do? They gave tithes, and tithes again upon tithes. They supported orphans, widows, and strangers; whereas some one was saying to me in astonishment at another, “Why, such an one gives tithes.” What a load of disgrace does this expression imply, that a matter which with the Jews were no matter of surprise, that this should have been surprising with Christians! If there was danger then in omitting tithes, think how great it must be now.

Again, drunkenness shall not inherit the kingdom. Yet what is the language of the generality? “Well, if both I and he are in the same case, that is some comfort.” What then are we to say? First of all, that thou and he shall not reap the same punishment; but were it otherwise, neither is that any comfort. Fellowship in sufferings has then comfort in it, when the miseries have any proportion in them; but when they exceed all proportion, and carry us beyond ourselves, they no longer allow of our receiving any comfort at all. For tell the man that is being tortured, and has entered into the flames, that such an one is undergoing the same, still he will be none the more sensible of the comfort. Did not all the Israelites perish together? What manner of comfort did that afford them? Was it not rather this very thing that distressed them? And this was why they kept saying, We are lost, we perish, we are consumed. What manner of comfort then is there here? In vain do we comfort ourselves with such hopes as these. There is but one only comfort, to avoid falling into that unquenchable fire; but it is not in the nature of things for one who has fallen into it to find comfort, where there is gnashing of teeth, where there is weeping, where is the worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched. For shalt thou conceive any comfort at all, tell me, when thou art in so great tribulation and distress? Wilt thou then be any longer thyself? Let us not, I pray and entreat you, let us not vainly deceive ourselves and comfort ourselves with arguments like these; no, let us practise those virtues, which shall avail to save us. The object before us is to sit together with Christ, and art thou trifling about such matters as these? Why, were there no other sin at all, how great punishment ought we not to suffer for these very speeches themselves, because we are so insensate, so wretched, and so indolent, as, even with so vast a privilege before us, to talk thus? Oh! how much shalt thou have to lament, when thou shalt hear them that have done good called to the kingdom and rewarded! when thou shalt behold slaves and base-born who have laboured but a little here, there made for ever partakers of the royal throne! Will not these things be worse to thee than torment? For if even now, when thou seest any in high reputation, though thou art suffering no one evil, thou regardest this as worse than any punishment, and by this alone art consumed, and bemoanest thyself, and weepest, and judgest it to be as bad as ten thousand deaths; what shalt thou suffer then? Why, even were there no hell at all, the very idea of the kingdom, were it not enough to destroy and consume thee? And that such will be the case, we have enough in our own experience of things to teach us. Let us not then vainly flatter our own souls with speeches like these; no, let us be in earnest, let us have a regard for our own salvation, let us make virtue our care, let us rouse ourselves to the practice of good works, that we may be counted worthy to attain to this exceeding glory, in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Homily V

There are many things to shew the loving-kindness of God towards us men. First, the fact, that by Himself He hath saved us, and by Himself through such a method as this. Secondly, that He hath saved us, considering what we were. Thirdly, that He hath exalted us to the place where we are. For all these things both contain in themselves the greatest demonstration of His loving-kindness, and they are the very subjects which Paul is now agitating in his Epistle. He had been saying, that when we were dead in trespasses and sins, He saved us; He is now telling us further, to whom He hath made us equal. Wherefore, saith he, remember, because it is usual with us, one and all, when we are raised from a state of great meanness to corresponding, or perhaps a greater, dignity, not so much as even to retain any recollection of our former condition, as though we had been brought up in this our new glory. On this account it is he says, Wherefore remember.—Wherefore. Why, “wherefore?” Because we have been created unto good works, and this were sufficient to induce us to cultivate and practise virtue; remember,—for that remembrance is sufficient to make us grateful to our Benefactor,—that ye were in time past Gentiles. Observe how he lowers the superior advantages of the Jews and enhances the inferiority of the Gentiles; inferiority indeed it was not, but he is arguing with each respectively from their character and manner of life.

The honour then of the Jews is in names, their prerogative is in the flesh. For the uncircumcision is nothing, and the circumcision is nothing.

Ye, saith he, who were thus called by the Jews. But why then is it that now he is about to shew that the benefit bestowed upon them consisted in this, in their having fellowship with Israel, he, on the other hand, not only does not disparage the Israelitish prerogative, but rather enhances it by these particulars? In essential points he enhances it, but in these points, in which they had no fellowship, he disparages it. For he goes on to say, Ye are fellow-citizens, and of the household of God. Mark, how far he is from disparaging it. These other points, saith he, are indifferent. Never think, saith he, that because ye happen not to be circumcised, and are now in uncircumcision, that there is any difference in this. No, the hardship was this, the being without Christ, the being aliens from the commonwealth, that is, the conversation of Israel. Whereas this circumcision is not conversation. Again, the being strangers from the covenants of promise, the having no hope to come, the being without God in this world, all these were parts of their condition. He was speaking of heavenly things, he speaks also of those which are upon earth; since the Jews had a great opinion of these. Thus also Christ in comforting His disciples, after saying, Blessed are they that are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,* adds the lesser point of consolation, for so, saith He, persecuted they the prophets that were before you. For this, compared with the greatness of the other, is far less, yet in regard to the being nigh, and believing, it is ample and sufficient, and has considerable force. This then was the having conversation. His word is not, “separated,” but “alienated from the commonwealth.” His word is not, “ye took no interest in,” but, “ye had not so much as any part in, and were strangers.” The expressions are most emphatic, and indicate the separation to be very wide. Because the Israelites themselves were without this conversation,* not however as aliens, but as indifferent to it, and they fell from the covenants, not however as strangers.

But what were the covenants of the promise? To thee and to thy seed, saith He, will I give this land,* and whatever else He promised.

Having no hope, he adds, and without God. Though gods indeed they worshipped, but they were no gods: for an idol is not any thing.

Is this then the great privilege, it may be said, that we are admitted into the conversation of the Jews? What art thou saying? He hath gathered together into one all things that are in heaven, and that are in earth, and now dost thou tell us about Israelites? Yes, he would say. Those higher privileges we must apprehend by faith;* these, by actual experience. But now, saith he, in Christ Jesus, ye who were some time far off, are made nigh. For the far off, and the nigh, are matters of will and choice.*

What is this, both one? He does not mean this, that He hath raised us to that high dignity of theirs, but that He hath raised both us and them to a yet higher. Only that the blessing to us is greater, because to these it had been promised, and they were nearer than we; to us it had not been promised, and we were farther off than they. Therefore it is that he says, And that the Gentiles might glorify God for His mercy.* The promise indeed He gave to the Israelites, but they were unworthy; to us He gave no promise, nay, we were even strangers, we had nothing in common with them; yet hath He made us one, not by attaching us to them, but by knitting both them and us together into one. I will give you an illustration. Let us suppose there to be two statues, the one of silver, the other of lead, and then that both shall be melted down, and that the two shall come out gold. Behold, thus hath He made the two one. Or put the case again in another way. Let the two be, one a slave, the other an adopted son: and let both worship Him, the one as a disinherited child, the other as a fugitive, and one who never knew a father. Then let both be made heirs, both trueborn sons. Behold, they are exalted to one and the same dignity, the two are become one, the one coming from a longer, the other from a nearer distance,* and becoming more noble than he was before he fell.

What the middle wall of partition is, he interprets by saying, the enmity that was in His flesh. Having abolished the law of commandments contained in ordinances. Some indeed affirm that the law is the middle wall, and that for this reason the word “law” was employed,* because it did not allow the Jews to hold intercourse with the Greeks. To me, however, this does not seem to be the meaning, but rather that he calls the enmity in the flesh, a middle wall, in that it is a common barrier, cutting us off alike from God. As the Prophet says, Do not your iniquities separate between you and Me,* and with reason, for that enmity which He had both against Jews and Gentiles was, as it were, a middle wall. And this, whilst the law existed, was not only not abolished, but rather was strengthened; for the law, saith the Apostle, worketh wrath.* Just in the same way then as when he says in that passage, the law worketh wrath, he does not ascribe the whole of this effect to the law itself, but it is further implied, that it is because we have transgressed it; so also in this place he calls it a middle wall, because through being disobeyed it wrought enmity. The law was a hedge or wall, but this it was made for the sake of security, and for this reason was called a hedge, to the intent that it might form an inclosure. For listen again to the Prophet, where he says, I made a hedge about it.* And again, Thou hast broken down her hedge, so that all they which go by pluck off her grapes.* Here therefore it means security and protection: and so again, I will break down the hedge thereof, and it shall be trodden down.* And again, He gave them the law for a defence.* And again, The Lord that executeth mercy and judgment, made known His statutes unto Israel.* It became, however, a middle wall, no longer establishing them in security, but cutting them off from God. Such then is the middle wall of partition formed out of the hedge or fence of protection. And to explain what this is, he subjoins, the enmity in His flesh.

How so? In that He confirmed it, and dissolved the enmity therein.* Nor in this way only hath He dissolved it, but also by keeping it. But what then, if we are released from the former transgression, and yet are again compelled to keep it? Then were the case the same over again, whereas He hath destroyed the very law itself. For he says, Having abolished the law of commandments by doctrines. Oh! amazing loving-kindness! He gave us a law that we should keep it, and when we kept it not, and ought to have been punished, He even abrogated the law itself. As if a man, who, having committed a child to a schoolmaster, if he should turn out disobedient, should set him at liberty even from the schoolmaster, and take him away. How great loving-kindness were this! What is meant by,

For he here makes a wide distinction between commandments and doctrines. He either then means faith, calling that a doctrine, (for by faith alone He saveth us,) or he means precept, such as Christ gave, when He said, But I say unto you, that ye are not to be angry at all.* That is to say, If thou shalt believe that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. And again, The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thine heart. Say not, Who shall ascend into heaven, or who shall descend into the deep? or, who hath brought Him again from the dead?* Instead of a life, He brought in faith. For that He might not save us without a meaning,* He both Himself underwent the penalty, and also required of men the faith that is by doctrines.

Observe thou, that it is not that the Gentile is become a Jew, but that both the one and the other are entered into another condition. It was not with a view of merely making this last other than he was, that He abolished the law, but rather, in order to create the two anew. And well does he on all occasions employ the word make or create, and does not say, “might change,” in order to point out the power of what was done, and that even though the creation be visible, yet is it no less (a creation) than that is, and that we ought not henceforward start away from this, more than from natural things.

That is, by Himself. He gave not this charge to another, but Himself, and by Himself, He melted both the one and the other, and produced one a glorious one, and, what is far greater than the first creation, that one first was Himself. For this is the meaning of in Himself. He Himself first gave the type and example. Laying hold on the one hand of the Jew, and on the other of the Gentile, and Himself being in the midst, He blended them together, made all the estrangement which existed between them to disappear, and fashioned them anew from above by fire and by water; no longer with water and earth, but with water and fire. He became a Jew by circumcision, He became accursed, He became a Gentile without the law, and was over both Gentiles and Jews.

Peace for them both towards God, and towards each other. For so long as they continued still Jews and Gentiles, they could not possibly have been reconciled. And had they not been delivered each from his own peculiar condition, how had they ever arrived at another and a higher one? For the Jew is then and not till then united to the Gentile when he becomes a believer. It is like persons being in a house, with two chambers below, and one large and grand one above: they would not be able to see each other, till they had got above.

Making peace, more especially towards God; for this the context shews, for what saith he?

He saith, not merely might reconcile, but might reconcile afresh, indicating that heretofore human nature had been easily reconciled, as, e.g. in the case of the saints and before the Law.

In one body, saith he, and that His own, unto God. How is this effected? By Himself, he means, suffering the penalty incurred upon the Cross.

Nothing can be more direct, nothing more significative, than these expressions. His death, saith the Apostle, hath slain the enmity. He hath wounded and killed it, not by giving charge to another, nor by what He wrought only, but also by what He suffered. He does not say having dissolved, he does say having cancelled, but what is stronger than all, having slain, so that it never should rise again. How then is it that it does rise again? From our exceeding depravity. For as long as we abide in the body of Christ, as long as we are united, it rises not again, but lies dead; or rather that former enmity never rises again at all. But if we breed another, it is no longer because of Him, who hath destroyed and put to death the former one. It is thou, forsooth, that travailest with a fresh one. For the carnal mind, saith he, is enmity against God;* if we are in nothing carnally-minded, there will be no fresh enmity produced, but that peace we were speaking of shall remain.

Yet it is in our power, if we will, no longer to be in the flesh, no, nor upon the earth, but in heaven, and in the Spirit. For our being here or there, is not determined so much by our position and place, as by our temper and disposition. Of many people, at least, who are in some particular place, we say they are any where but there, when we say, Thou art absent. And why do I say this? We often say, Thou art not thyself, I am not myself, and yet what can be more material (a stronger instance of corporal locality) than this, near as a man is to himself? And yet, notwithstanding, we say that he is not in himself. Let us then be in ourselves, in heaven, in the Spirit. Let us abide in the peace and in the grace of God, that we may be set at liberty from all the things of the flesh, and may be able to attain to those good things which are promised in Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, and might, and honour, now and henceforth, and for ever and ever.

Homily VI

He sent not, saith the Apostle, by the hand of another, nor did He announce these tidings to us by means of any other, but Himself came, and in person told us of them. He sent not Angel nor Archangel on the mission, because to repair so many and vast mischiefs was in the power of none other, (nor even to declare what had been wrought,) but required His own coming. The Lord then took upon Himself the rank of a servant,* nay, almost of a minister, and came, and preached peace to you, saith he, which were afar off, and to them that were nigh. To the Jews, he means, who as compared with ourselves were nigh. For through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father.

Peace, saith he, that peace which is towards God, forasmuch as He hath reconciled us. And besides, the Lord Himself also saith, Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.* And again, Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.* And again, Whatsoever things ye shall ask in my name, ye shall receive.* And again, For the Father loveth you.* These are so many evidences of peace both towards the one and the other, Gentiles and Jews. How towards the Gentiles? Because through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father, not ye less, and they more, but all by one and the same grace. The wrath He appeased by His death, and hath made us meet for the Father’s love through the Spirit. Mark again, the in means by or through. By Himself and the Spirit He hath brought us unto the Father. Now, therefore, ye are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints.

Perceive ye that it is not into the city of the Jews simply, no, but of those saintly and great men, such as Abraham, and Moses, and Elias, it is into the self-same city with these we are enrolled, into that we declare ourselves? For they which say such things, saith he, declare plainly that they seek a country.* No longer are we strangers from the saints, nor foreigners or sojourners. For they who shall not finally attain to heavenly blessings, are foreigners or sojourners. For the Son, saith Christ, abideth ever.*

The very thing which they at the first had, by means of so many toils and troubles, hath been for you accomplished by the grace of God.

Behold! the hope of the calling! Observe how he blends all together; the Gentiles, the Jews, the Apostles, the Prophets, and Christ, and illustrates the union sometimes from the analogy of the body, and sometimes from the building: built, saith he, upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets; that is, the Apostles and Prophets are a foundation, and he places the Apostles first, though they are in order of time last, doubtless to represent and express this, that both the one and the other are alike a foundation, and that the whole is one building, and that there is one root. Consider, that the Gentiles have the Patriarchs as a foundation. He here gives the more strict and literal account of that point than he does when he speaks of a graffing in. There he is rather touching on the matter. Then he adds, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner-stone,* to shew us that He who binds the whole together is Christ. For the chief cornerstone binds together both the walls, and the foundations.

Mark, how he knits it all together, and represents Him at one time, as holding down the whole body from above, and locking it together (as a key-stone); at another time, as supporting the building from below, and being, as it were, a root, or base. And whereas he had used the expression, He hath made (i.e. hath created or built) in Himself the twain into one new man;* by this expression he clearly shews us, that by Himself Christ knits together the two walls: and again, that in Him things were created. And, He is the first-born,* saith he, of every creature,* that is, He Himself supports all things.

Whether you speak of the roof, or of the walls, or of any other part whatsoever, He it is who supports the whole. Thus he elsewhere calls Him a foundation. For other foundation, saith he, can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. In whom the whole building, he saith, fitly framed together.* Here he displays the perfectness of it, and indicates that one cannot otherwise have place in it,* unless by living with great exactness and consistency. For, saith he, It groweth into an holy temple in the Lord, in whom ye also, he adds, are builded together. He repeats the thought. Into an holy temple, into an habitation of God through the Spirit. What then is the object of this building? It is that God may dwell in this temple. For each of you severally is a temple, and all of you together are a temple. And He dwelleth in you as the body of Christ, and dwelleth as in a spiritual temple. On this account it is that where he speaks of our having access he does not use the word which means our coming to God,* but which implies God’s bringing us to Himself, for we came not of ourselves, but it was He that brought us. No one, saith Christ, cometh unto the Father but by Me.* And again, I am the way, and the truth, and the life.

He again returns to his former image, and connects them with the saints, and in no instance suffers them to be disunited from Christ. Doubtless then, this is a building that shall go on until His coming. Doubtless it was for this reason that Paul said, As a wise master builder, I have laid the foundation.* And again in this same place, Other foundation can no man lay, than that is laid, which is Christ.* You observe that the comparisons have all referred to the subject-matters, and that we must not expound them to the very letter. The Apostle speaks from analogy as Christ does, where He calls the Father an husbandman,* and Himself a root.*

He has mentioned Christ’s great and affectionate care; he now passes on to his own, insignificant indeed as it is, and a very nothing in comparison with that, and yet this is enough to engage them to himself. For this cause, saith he, am I also bound. For if my Lord and Master was crucified for your sakes, much more am I bound. He not only was bound Himself, but allows His servants to be bound also,—for you Gentiles. It is full of emphasis; not only do we no longer loathe you, but we are even bound, saith he, for your sakes, and of this exceeding grace am I partaker.

He alludes to the prediction addressed to Ananias concerning him at Damascus, when the Lord said, Go thy way, for he is a chosen vessel unto Me, to bear My name before the Gentiles and Kings.*

By dispensation of grace, he means the revelation made to him. As much as to say, “I learned it not from man.* He vouchsafed to reveal it even to me, though but an individual, for your sakes. For Himself said unto me, saith he, Depart, for I will send thee far hence unto the Gentiles.”* Thus well does he call it the dispensation, for a dispensation it was, a mighty one; to call one, uninfluenced from any other quarter, immediately from above, and to say, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Ḿe? and to strike him blind with that ineffable light! if ye have heard, saith he, of the dispensation of the grace of God which is given me to you-ward.

Perhaps he had informed them of it by some persons, or had not long before been writing to them. Here he is pointing out that the whole is of God, that we have contributed nothing. For what, I ask, was not Paul himself, the great, the wonderful, he that was so versed in the law, he that was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel according to the most perfect manner of it, was not he saved by grace? With good reason too does he call this a mystery, for a mystery it is, to raise the Gentiles in a moment to a higher rank than the Jews. As I wrote afore, saith he, in few words.

Amazing! So then he wrote not the whole, nor so much as he should have written. But here the nature of the subject prevented it. Elsewhere, as in the case of the Hebrews and the Corinthians, the incapacity of the hearers. Whereby, when ye read, ye may understand,* saith he, my knowledge in the mystery of Christ,* i.e. how I knew, how I understood either such things as God hath spoken, or else, that Christ sitteth at the right hand of God; and then too the dignity, in that God hath not dealt so with any nation.* And then to explain what nation this is with whom God hath thus dealt, he adds,

What then, tell me, did not the Prophets know it? How then doth Christ say, that Moses and the Prophets wrote these things concerning Me. And again, If ye had believed Moses, ye would have believed Me.* And again, Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are they which testify of me.* His meaning is this, either that it was not revealed unto all men, for he adds, which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed; or else, that it was not thus made known by the very facts and realities themselves, as it is now revealed to His holy Apostles and Prophets by the Spirit. For reflect. Peter, had he not been instructed by the Spirit, never would have gone to the Gentiles. For hear what he says, Then hath God given unto them the Holy Ghost, as well as unto us.* This is what he means by saying, by the Spirit. Because it was by the Spirit that God vouchsafed to them that they should receive the grace. The Prophets then spoke, yet even thus knew it not so perfectly; so far from it, that not even did the Apostles, after they had heard it. So far did it surpass all human calculation, and the common expectation.

What is this; fellow-heirs, and partakers of the promise, and of the same body? This last is the great thing, that they should be one body; this exceeding closeness of relation to Him. For that they were to be called indeed, that they knew, but that it was to these privileges, as yet they knew not. This therefore he calls the mystery of the promise. The Israelites were partakers, but the Gentiles also were fellow-partakers of the promise of God.

That is, by His being sent unto them also, and by their believing; for it is not said simply in Christ, but by the Gospel. However, this indeed, is nothing so great, it is in fact a small thing, and it discloses to us another and greater thing, that not only men knew not this, but that neither Angels nor Archangels, nor any other created power, knew it. For this was a mystery, and was not revealed to any one. That ye may understand, he saith, my knowledge. This alludes, perhaps, to what he said to them in the Acts, that he had some special knowledge that the Gentiles also were to be called. This, he says, is his own knowledge, the knowledge of the mystery, which he had mentioned, viz. that Christ will in Himself make of the twain one new man. For by revelation he was instructed, both he and Peter, that they must not spurn the Gentiles;* and this he states in his defence.

He had said, “I am a prisoner;” but now again he says, that all is of God, as he says, according to the gift of His grace; for according to the power of the gift is the dignity of this privilege, nor had the gift been enough, had it not also implanted in him the power.

It was not then by his miracles that men were made believers; no, it was not the miracles that did this, nor was it upon the ground of these that he claimed his high pretension, but upon those other grounds. To make men believers a man had need be alike irreproachable in conduct,* prudent and discreet in his dealings with others, regardless of danger, and apt to teach. It was by these qualifications chiefly that he was successful. Where there were these, there was no need of miracles. At least we see he was successful in numberless such cases, quite antecedently to the use of miracles. But, now-a-days, we without any of these would fain command all things. Yet if one of them be separated from the other, it henceforth becomes useless. What is the advantage of a man’s being ever so regardless of danger, if his life be open to censure. For if the light that is in thee be darkness, saith Christ, how great is that darkness?* Again, what the advantage of a man’s being of an irreproachable life, if he is sluggish and indolent? For, he that taketh not up his cross, and followeth after Me,* saith He, is not worthy of Me; and so, If a man lay not down his life for the sheep.* Again, what is the advantage of being both these,* unless a man is at the same time prudent and discreet in knowing how he ought to answer each particular individual? Even if miracles be not in our power, yet both these qualities are in our power. Still however, notwithstanding Paul contributed so much from himself, yet did he attribute all to grace.* This is the act of a generous and grateful servant. And we should never so much as have heard of his good deeds, had he not been brought to a necessity of declaring them.

And are we worthy then so much as even to mention the name of Paul? He, who had moreover grace to aid him, yet was not satisfied, but contributed to the work ten thousand perils; whilst we, who are destitute of that source of confidence, whence, tell me, do we expect either to preserve those who are committed to our charge, or to gain those who are not come to the fold;—men, as we are, who have been making a study of self-indulgence, who are searching the world over for ease, and who are unable, or rather who are unwilling, to endure even the very shadow of danger, and are as far distant from his wisdom as heaven is from earth? Hence it is too that they who are under us are at so great a distance behind the men of those days; because the disciples of those days were better than the teachers of these, isolated as they were in the midst of the populace, and of tyrants, and having all men on all sides their enemies, and yet not in the slightest degree dragged down or yielding. Hear at least what he saith to the Philippians, For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake.* And again to the Thessalonians, For ye, brethren, became followers of the Churches of God which are in Judæa.* And again in writing to the Hebrews he said, And ye took joyfully the spoiling of your goods.* And to the Colossians he testifies, saying, For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.* And indeed to these very Ephesians he bears witness of many perils and dangers. And again in writing to the Galatians, he says, Have ye suffered so many things in vain? if it be yet in vain.* And you see them too, all employed in doing good. Hence it was that both grace wrought effectually in those days, hence also that they lived in good works. Hear, moreover, what he writes to the Corinthians, against whom he brings charges out of number; yet does he not bear even them record, where he says, Yea, what zeal it wrought in you, yea, what vehement desire!* And again, in how many points does he bear them record on this subject? These things one shall not see now-a-days, even in teachers. They are all gone and perished. And the cause is, that love hath waxed cold, that sinners go unpunished; (for hear what he says writing to Timothy, Them that sin, rebuke before all;) it is that the rulers are in a sickly state; for if the head be not sound, how can the rest of the body maintain its vigour? But mark how great is the present disorder. They, who were living virtuously, and who under any circumstances might have confidence, have taken possession of the tops of the mountains, and have escaped out of the world, just as if they were tearing themselves from an enemy and an alien, instead of from a body to which they belonged.

Plagues too, teeming with untold mischiefs, have lighted upon the Churches. The chief offices have become saleable. Hence numberless evils are springing, and there is no one to redress, no one to reprove them. Nay, the disorder has assumed a sort of method and consistency. Has a man done wrong, and been arraigned for it? His effort is not to prove himself guiltless, but to find if possible accomplices in his crimes. What is to become of us? Believe me, hell is our threatened portion, so that had not God stored up punishment for us there, ye would see every day tragedies deeper than the disasters of Jerusalem. What then? however let no one take offence, for I mention no names; suppose some one were to come into this church to present you that are here at this moment, those that are now with me, and to make inquisition of them; or rather not now, but suppose on Easter day any one, endued with such a spirit, as to have a thorough knowledge of the things they had been doing, should narrowly examine all that came to Communion, and were being washed [in Baptism] after they had attended the mysteries; many things would be discovered more shocking than the Jewish horrors. He would find persons who practise augury, who make use of charms, and omens, and incantations, and who have committed fornication, adulterers, drunkards, and revilers,—covetous, I am unwilling to add, lest I should hurt the feelings of any of those who are standing here. What more? Suppose any one should make scrutiny into all the communicants in the world, what kind of transgression is there which he would not detect? and what if he examined those in authority? Would he not find them eagerly bent upon gain? Would he not find them making traffic of high places? envious, malignant, vain-glorious, gluttonous, and slaves to money?

Where then there is such impiety as this going on, what dreadful calamity must we not expect? And to be assured how sore vengeance they incur, who are guilty of such sins as these, consider the examples of old. One single man, a common soldier, stole the sacred property, and all were smitten. Ye know, doubtless, the history I mean? I am speaking of Achan the son of Carmi, the man who stole the consecrated spoil.* The time too when the Prophet spoke, was a time when their country was full of soothsayers, like that of the Philistines.* Whereas now there are evils out of number at the full, and not one that fears them. Oh, henceforth let us take the alarm. God is able to punish the righteous also with the wicked; such was the case with Daniel, and with the three holy Children, such has been the case with ten thousand others, such is the case in the wars that are taking place even at the present day. For the one indeed, whatever burthen of sins they have upon them, by this means lay aside even that; but not so the other.

On all these accounts, let us take heed to ourselves. Do ye not see these wars? Do ye not hear of these disasters? Do ye learn no lesson from these things? Nations and whole cities are swallowed up and destroyed, and myriads as many again are enslaved to the barbarians.

If hell itself bring us not to our senses, yet let these. What, are these too mere threats, are they not facts that have already taken place? Great is the punishment they have suffered, yet a greater still shall we suffer, who are not brought to our senses even by their fate. Is this discourse wearying? I am aware it is myself, but if we attend to it, it has its advantage; because this it has not, the quality of an address to please,—nay more, nor ever shall have, but ever those topics which may avail to humble and to chasten the soul. For these will be to us the ground-work of those blessings to come hereafter, to which God grant that we may all attain, through His grace and loving-kindness.

Homily VII

They who go to the physician’s have not merely to go here, and nothing further; they have to learn how to treat themselves, and to apply remedies. And so with us then who come here, we must not do this and nothing else, we must learn our lesson, the surpassing lowliness of Paul. What? when he was about to speak of the vastness of the grace of God, hear what he saith, To me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given. Lowliness indeed it was even to bewail his former sins, although blotted out, and to make mention of them, and to humble himself, as where he calls himself a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious;* yet was that nothing like this: for formerly, saith he, such was I; and again he calls himself, one born out of due time.* But that after so many great and good deeds he should thus humble himself, and call himself less than the least of all, this is indeed great and surpassing humility. To one who am less than the least of all saints; he saith not, “than the Apostles.” So that that expression is less strong than this before us. There his words are, I am not fit to be called an Apostle.* Here he says that he is even less than the least of all saints; to me, saith he, who am less than the least of all saints is this grace given. What grace? That I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and make all men see what is the dispensation of the mystery, which from the beginning of the world hath been hid in God, who created all things by Jesus Christ, to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God. True, to man it was not revealed; but art thou enlightening Angels and Archangels and Principalities and Powers? I am, saith he. For it was hid in God, even in God who created all things by Jesus Christ. And dost thou venture to utter this? I do, saith he. But whence hath this been made manifest to the Angels? By the Church. Again he saith, not merely “the varied” wisdom,* but the manifold, that is, “the multiplied and varied.”* What then is this? Did not Angels know it? No, nothing of it; for if Principalities knew it not, much less could Angels ever have known it. What then? Did not even Archangels know it? No, nor even they. But whence were they even likely to know it? Who was to reveal it? When we were taught it, then were they also by us. For hear what the Angel saith to Joseph; Thou shalt call His Name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.

Paul himself was sent to the Gentiles, the other Apostles to the Circumcision. So that the more marvellous and astonishing commission was given, saith he, to me, who am less than the least. And this too was of grace, that the least should have the greatest things entrusted to him; that he should be made the herald of these glad tidings. For he that is made a herald of the greater glad tidings, is in this respect great.

If His riches are unsearchable, and that too after His appearing, much more is His essence. If it is still a mystery, much more was it before it was made known; for a mystery he calls it on this account, because neither did the Angels know it, nor was it manifest to any one else.

Angels knew only this, that The Lord’s portion was His people. And again it is said, The Prince of Persia withstood me.* So that it is nothing to be wondered at that they were ignorant of this; for if they were ignorant of the circumstances of the return from the Captivity, much more would they be of these things. And the more so, for the glad tidings were these, Who shall save, it saith, His people Israel.* Not a word about the Gentiles. But what concerns the Gentiles the Spirit revealeth. That they were called indeed, the Angels knew, but that it was to the same privileges as Israel, yea even to sit upon the throne of God, this, who would ever have expected? who would ever have believed?

This dispensation, however, he more clearly unfolds in the Epistle to the Romans. In God, he continues, who created all things by Jesus Christ. And he does well to mention the creation, adding, by Jesus Christ; forasmuch as He who created all things by Him, revealeth also this by Him; for He hath made nothing without Him: for without Him, it is said, was not any thing made.*

In speaking of principalities and powers, he speaks both of those above and those beneath.

It hath been now, he means, brought to pass, but not now decreed, it had been planned beforehand from the very first. According to the eternal purpose which He purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord. That is, according to the eternal foreknowledge; he means, having foreknown the things to come, the ages to come: for He knew what was to be, and thus decreed it according to an eternal purpose,* or predisposition of all ages, of all worlds: of those, perhaps, which He hath made by Christ Jesus, because too it was by Christ that every thing was made.

Have access, not as prisoners, he says, nor yet as persons candidates for pardon, nor be as sinners; for, saith he, we have even boldness with confidence, that is, accompanied with cheerful trust; arising from what source? by the faith of Him.

How is it for them? How is it their glory? It is because God so loved them, as to give even the Son for them, and to afflict His servants: for it was in order that they might attain so many blessings, that Paul was in prison. Surely this was from God’s exceeding love towards them: it is what God also saith concerning the Prophets; I have slain them by the words of my mouth.* But how was it that they fainted, when another was afflicted? He means, they were troubled, were distressed. This also he says when writing to the Thessalonians, that no man should be moved by these afflictions.* For not only ought we not to grieve, but we ought even to rejoice. If ye find consolation in the forewarning, we tell you beforehand that here we shall have tribulation.

He here shews the spirit of his prayer for them. He does not say simply, “I pray,” but manifests the supplication to be heartfelt, by the bowing of the knees.

That is, no longer, he means, reckoned, according to the number of Angels, but according to Him who hath created the tribes both in heaven above and in earth beneath not as the Jewish.

Mark with what insatiable earnestness he invokes these blessings upon them, that they may not be tossed about. But how shall this be effected? By the Holy Spirit in your inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith. How again shall this be? by being

Thus is his prayer now again, the very same as it was when he began. For what were his words in the beginning? That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him; the eyes of your understanding being enlightened, that ye may know what is the hope of His calling, and what the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints; and what is the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe. And now again he uses the same expression. That ye may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; i.e. to know perfectly the mystery which hath been* providentially ordered in our behalf: (for this is what he calls the breadth, and length, and depth, and height;) that is, to know the immensity of the love of God, and how it extends every where. And he exemplifies it by the visible dimensions of solid bodies, pointing as it were to a man. He comprehends it, as it were, within an upper and under and sides. I have thus spoken indeed, he would say, yet is it not for any words of mine to teach you these things; that must be the work of the Holy Spirit. By His might, saith he, is it that ye must be strengthened against the trials that await you, and remain unshaken; so that there is no other way to be strengthened, but by the Holy Ghost, and by trials.

But how doth Christ dwell in the hearts? Hear what Christ Himself saith, I and my Father will come unto him, and make our abode with him.* Yet dwelleth He not in all indifferently, but only in those hearts that are faithful, in those that are rooted in His love, those that remain firm and unshaken.

That ye may be thoroughly able, saith he; so that there is great strength needed: and to shew us where we require it, he adds, to understand with all saints what is the depth, and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge.

That we may he filled with all the fulness of God.

What he means is this. Although the love of Christ lies above the reach of all human knowledge, yet shall ye know it, if ye shall have Christ dwelling in you, yea, not only shall know from Him this, but shall even be filled with all the fulness of God; meaning by the fulness of God, either the knowledge that God is worshipped in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, or else urging them thus to use every effort, in order to be filled with all virtue, of which God is the fountain-head.

Well doth he say, according to the power: for a work of power it is to grasp things which we never so much as hoped for. And that God hath done abundantly above all that we ask or think, is evident from what the Apostle himself hath written. For I indeed, saith he, pray, but He of Himself, even without any prayer of mine, will do works greater than all we ask, not simply greater, nor abundantly greater, but exceeding abundantly, thus vividly representing the vastness of the gift. And whence is this evident? from the power, saith he, that worketh in us: for neither did we ever ask these things, nor did we expect them.

Well does he close the discourse with prayer and doxology; for right were it that He, who hath bestowed upon us such vast gifts, should be glorified and blessed, so that this is even a proper part of our amazement at His mercies, to give glory for the things advanced to us at God’s hands through Jesus Christ.

His glory is in the Church. Well might he say this, forasmuch as that Church alone can last on to eternity; and since she standeth fast from age to age, therefore He willeth also to be glorified by us even until the end, for this he declares by saying, throughout all ages, world without end.*

It seems necessary to state what are meant by families.* Here on earth, indeed, families are the races sprung from one parent stock; but in heaven how can this be, where none is born of another? Surely then, by families, he means the assemblies and orders of heavenly beings;* as also we find it written in Scripture, the family of Amattari:* the system, moreover, from whence earthly fathers have their name.

However, he does not ask the whole of God, and nothing of them, but demands of them also faith and love, and not simply love, but love rooted and grounded, so that neither any blasts can shake it, nor any thing else overturn it. He had said, that tribulations are glory, and if mine are so to you, he would say, much more will your own be: so that to be afflicted is no token of men forsaken, for He who hath wrought so great things for us, never would do this.

Again, if in order to understand the love of God, Paul required prayer, and there was need of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, who by following mere reasonings shall understand the nature of Christ?* And yet what is there so difficult, thou mayest say, in understanding that God loveth us? Beloved, it is extremely difficult. For some know not even this; whence they even say, that numberless evils are produced in the world; and others know not the extent of this love. Nor, indeed, is Paul seeking to know its extent, nor with any view to measure it; for how could he? but only to understand this, that it is transcendent, and great. And this very thing, he says, he is able to shew, even from the knowledge which hath been vouchsafed to us.

However, what is higher than the being strengthened? the being strengthened with might, just as the having Christ within us is higher than the merely having Him. Vast are the things we ask, saith he, yet is He able to do above even them, so that not only doth He love us, but doth so intensely. Be it our care therefore, beloved, to understand the love of God. A great thing indeed is this; nothing is so beneficial to us, nothing so deeply touches us: more availing this to convince our souls than the fear of hell itself. Whence then shall we understand it? Both from the sources now mentioned, and from the things which happen every day. For from what motive have these things been done for us? from what necessity on His part? None whatever. Over and over again he lays down love as the motive. But in the highest degree is that love, when men receive a benefit, without any prior service on their part to call for it.

But possibly we shall find love like this in spiritual characters also, not in those of our day, (for it has waxed cold,)* but in those great and glorious men of old. Moses, the blessed Moses, surpassed even those that love with human passion. How, and in what respect? First, in that he gave up the court, and the luxury, and the retinue, and the renown attending it, and chose rather to be with the Israelites. Yet is this not only what no one else would ever have done, but would have even been ashamed, were another to have discovered him, of being found to be a kinsman of men, who were not only slaves, but were looked upon as even execrable. Yet was he not only not ashamed of his kindred, but with all his spirit defended them, and exposed himself to perils for their sake.* How? Seeing, it is said, one doing an injury to one of them, he defended him that suffered the wrong, and slew him that inflicted it. But this is not as yet for the sake of enemies. Great indeed is this act then of itself, but not so great as what comes afterwards. The next day, then, he saw the same thing taking place, and when he saw him whom he had defended doing his neighbour wrong, he admonished him to desist from his oppression. But he said, with great ingratitude, Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?* Who would not have taken fire at these words? Had then the former act been that of passion and frenzy, then would he have smitten and killed this man also; for surely he on whose behalf it was done, never would have informed against him. But because they were brethren, it is said, he spoke thus. When he [the Hebrew] was being wronged, he uttered not a word like it, Who made thee a prince and a judge over us? Wherefore saidst thou not this yesterday? Thy injustice, and thy cruelty, he would say, this makes me a ruler and a judge.

But now, mark, how that some, in fact, say as much even to God Himself. Whenever they are wronged indeed, they would have Him a God of vengeance, and complain of His long suffering; but when themselves do wrong, not for a moment.

However, what could be more painful than words like these? And yet notwithstanding after this, when he was sent to that ungrateful, to that thankless race, he went, and shrunk not back. Yea, and after those miracles, and after the wonders wrought by his hand, oftentimes they sought to stone him, and he escaped out of their hands. They kept murmuring too incessantly, and yet still, notwithstanding, so passionately did he love them, as to say unto God, when they committed that heinous sin, Yet now if Thou wilt forgive, forgive their sin; and if not, blot even me also out of the book which Thou hast written.* Fain would I perish, saith he, with them, rather than without them be saved. Here, verily, is love even to madness, verily, unbounded love. What sayest thou? Art thou regardless of Heaven? I am, saith he, for I love those who have wronged me. Prayest thou to be blotted out? Yea, saith he, what can I do? Yes, it is love commends it. And what again shall be said of what comes afterwards? Hear what the Scripture saith elsewhere; And it went ill with Moses for their sakes.* How often did they wax wanton? How often did they reject both himself and his brother? How often did they seek to return back to Egypt? and yet after all these things did he burn, yea, was beside himself with love for them, and was ready to suffer for their sakes.

Thus ought a man to love his enemies; by strong lamentation, by unwearied endurance, by every method in his power, yea, even to being cut off, to aim at their salvation.

And what again, tell me, did Paul? did he not ask even to be accursed in their stead. But the great pattern we must of necessity derive from the Lord, for so doth He also Himself, where he saith, For He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good:* adducing His Father as the exemplar, as we do Christ Himself. He came unto them, in His Incarnation, I mean,* He became a servant for their sakes, He humbled Himself, He made Himself of no reputation. He took upon Him the form of a servant.* And when He came unto them, He went not Himself aside into the way of the Gentiles,* and gave the same charge to His disciples, and not only so, but He went about healing all manner of sickness, and all manner of disease.* And what then? All the rest indeed were astonished, and marvelled, and said, Whence hath this man these things?* Hut these, the objects of His beneficence, these said, He hath a devil,* and blasphemeth, and is mad, and is a deceiver.* Did He therefore cast them away? No, in no wise, yea, when He heard these sayings, He even yet more signally bestowed His benefits upon them, and went straightway to them that were about to crucify Him, to the intent that He might but only save them. And after He was crucified, what were His words? Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.* Both cruelly treated from the first, and cruelly treated to the last, even to the very latest breath, for them He did every thing, in their behalf He prayed. Yea, and after the Cross itself, what did He not do for their sakes? Did He not send Apostles? Did He not work miracles? Did He not shake the whole world?

Thus is it we ought to love our enemies, thus to imitate Christ. Thus did Paul. Stoned, suffering unnumbered cruelties, yet did he all things for their good. Hear his own words. My heart’s desire and prayer for them is that they may be saved.* And again; For I bear them record that they have a zeal of God. And again; If thou being a wild olive tree wert graffed in, how much more shall these be graffed into their own olive tree?* How tender, thinkest thou, must be the affection from which these expressions proceed, how vast the benevolence? it is impossible to express it, impossible.

Thus is it we ought to love our enemies. This is to love God, Who hath enjoined it, Who hath given it as His law. To imitate Him is to love our enemy. Consider it is not thine enemy only thou art benefiting, but thyself; thou art not only loving him, but art obeying God. Knowing therefore these things, let us confirm our love one to another, that we may perform this duty perfectly, and attain those good things that are promised in Christ Jesus our Lord, with Whom to the Father, together with the Holy Ghost, be glory, might, and honour, now, and for ever and ever.

Homily VIII

It is the virtue of masters to aim not at praise, nor at esteem at the hands of those under their authority, but at their salvation, and to do every thing with this object; since the man who should make the other end his aim, would not be a master but a tyrant. Surely it is not for this that God set thee over them, that thou shouldest enjoy greater court and service, but that thine own interests should be disregarded, and every one of theirs advanced. This is a master’s duty: such an one was the blessed Paul, a man who was free from all manner of vanity, and was contented to be but one of the many, nay more, to be the very least even of them. Hence he even calls himself their servant, and so generally speaks in a tone of supplication. Observe him then even now how he is writing; nothing dictatorial, nothing imperious, but all chastised and subdued.

I therefore, saith he, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called. What is it, tell me, thou art beseeching? Is it that thou mayest gain any end for thyself? No, saith he, in no wise; it is that I may be the saving of others. And yet surely they who beseech, do so for things which are of importance to themselves. True; and this, saith he, is of importance to myself, according to what he says also elsewhere in his writings, Now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord;* for he ever earnestly desired the salvation of those whom he was instructing.

I, the prisoner of the Lord. Great and mighty dignity! Greater than that of king or of consul, or of any other. Hence it is the very title he uses in writing to Philemon, As Paul the aged, and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ.* For nothing is there so glorious as a bond for Christ’s sake, as the chains that were bound around those holy hands; more glorious this, than being an Apostle, than being a Teacher, than being an Evangelist, to be a prisoner for Christ’s sake. Is there any that loveth Christ, he will understand what I am saying. Is any transported and fired with devotion for the Lord, he will know the power of these bonds. Such an one would rather choose to be a prisoner for Christ’s sake, than to have the Heavens for his dwelling; more glorious than any gold were the hands he was holding out to them, yea, than any royal diadem. Yes, no jewelled tiara bound around the head invests it with such glory, as an iron chain for Christ’s sake. Then was the prison more glorious than palaces; why say I than palaces? Yea, than the very Heaven itself, for it contained a prisoner of Christ. Is there any that loveth Christ, he will know the dignity of this title, he will know what a virtue is this, he will know how great a boon he bestowed upon mankind, even this, to be bound for His sake. More glorious perhaps this, to be bound for His sake, than to sit at His right hand; more august this, than to sit upon the twelve thrones.*

And why speak I of human glories? I am ashamed to compare earthly riches and golden attire to these bonds. But forbearing to speak of those great and heavenly glories, even were the thing attended with no reward at all, this alone were a great reward, this an ample recompense, to suffer these hardships for the sake of one we love. They that love, even though it be not God, but man, they know what I am saying, more delighted as they are to be ill treated, than honoured by those they love. But to be fully conscious of these things belongs to the holy company, the Apostles, I mean, alone. For hearken to what the blessed Luke saith, that they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for Christ’s name.* To all others indeed it seems to be foolishness, that to suffer shame is to be counted worthy, that to suffer shame is to rejoice. But to them that understand the love of Christ, this is esteemed of all things the most blessed. Were any to offer me my choice, the whole Heaven or that chain, I would prefer that chain. Were any to ask whether he should place me on high with the Angels, or with Paul in his bonds, I would choose the prison. Were any about to change me into one of those powers, that are in Heaven, that are round about the throne, or into such a prisoner as this, I would choose to be such a prisoner. And with reason. Nothing is there more blessed than that chain. Would that I could be at this moment in that very spot, (for the bonds are said to be still in existence,) and behold, and contemplate with amazement those men, for their love of Christ. Would that I could behold the chains, at which the devils fear and tremble, and which Angels reverence. Nothing is there more noble than to suffer any evil for Christ’s sake. I count not Paul so happy, because he was caught up into Paradise,* as because he was cast into the dungeon; I count him not so happy, because he heard unspeakable words, as because he endured those bonds. I count him not so happy, because he was caught up into the third Heaven,* as I count him happy for those bonds’ sake. For that these latter are greater than the former, hear how even he himself knew this; for he saith not, I who heard unspeakable words, beseech you: but what? I, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you. Nor yet are we to wonder, though he inscribes not this to all his Epistles, for he was not always in prison, but only at certain times.

I deem it more desirable to suffer evil for Christ’s sake, than to receive honour at Christ’s hands. This is transcendent honour, this that glory that surpasseth all things. If He Himself who became a servant for my sake, and emptied* His glory, yet thought not Himself so truly in glory, as when He was crucified for my sake, what ought not I to endure? For hear His own words: Father, glorify Thou Me.* What is this thou art saying? Thou art being led to the cross with thieves and plunderers of graves, to undergo the death of the accursed; Thou art about to be spit upon and buffeted; and callest Thou this glory? Yes, He saith, for I suffer these things for My beloved ones, and I count them now My glory. If He who loved the miserable and wretched calleth this glory, not to be on His Father’s throne, nor in His Father’s glory, but in dishonour,—if this was His glory, and this last He set before the other: much more ought I to regard these things as glory. Oh! those blessed bonds! Oh! those blessed hands which that chain adorned! Not so awful were Paul’s hands where they lifted up and raised the lame man at Lystra, as when they were bound around with those chains. Had I been living in those times, then how eagerly would I have embraced them, and put them to the very apple of mine eyes. Never would I have ceased kissing those hands which were counted worthy to be bound for my Lord. Marvellest thou at Paul, when the viper fastened on his hand, and did him no hurt? Marvel not. It reverenced his chain. Yea, and this the whole sea reverenced, for then too was he bound, when he was saved from shipwreck. Were any one to grant me power to raise the dead at this moment, I would not choose that power, but this chain. Were I free from the cares of the Church, had I my body strong and vigorous, I would not shrink from undertaking so long a journey, were it only for the sake of beholding those chains, were it but for the sake of seeing the prison where he was bound. The traces indeed of his miracles are numerous in all parts of the world, yet are they not so dear as those of his scars.* Nor in the Scriptures does he so delight me when he is working miracles, as when he is suffering evil, being scourged, and dragged along. Marvellous, truly marvellous, are the very handkerchiefs and the aprons from his body, working wonders, and yet not so marvellous as those words, When they had beaten him, and laid many stripes on him, they cast him into prison.* And again; being in bonds, they sang praises unto God.* And again; Having stoned him, they drew him out of the city, supposing he had been dead.* Would ye know how mighty a thing is an iron chain for Christ’s sake, bound about His servant’s body? Hearken to what Christ Himself saith, Blessed are ye.* Why? When ye shall raise the dead? No. But why? When ye shall heal the blind? Nothing like it. But why then? When they shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely for My sake. Now, if to be evil spoken of renders men thus blessed, to be evil entreated, what may not that achieve? Hearken to what this blessed saint himself saith elsewhere; Henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness:* and yet, more glorious than this crown is the chain: of this, saith he, the Lord will count me worthy, and I am in no wise inquisitive about the other. Enough it is for me for every recompense, to suffer evil for Christ’s sake. Let Him but grant me to say, that I fill up what is behind of the afflictions of Christ:* and I have not a want.

Peter also was counted worthy of this chain; for he, we read, was bound, and delivered to soldiers, and was sleeping.* So cheerful was he, so unconcerned, that he even slept. And he never would have fallen into a deep slumber, had he been in any great anxiety. However, he was sleeping, being between two soldiers: and an Angel came unto him, and smote him on the side, and raised him up. Now then, were any one to say to me, Whether wouldest thou? Wouldest thou be the Angel that struck Peter, or Peter that was delivered? I would rather choose to be Peter, for whose sake even the Angel came, yea, I should rejoice in those chains. And how is it, say ye, that, as being released from great evils, he prays? Marvel not: he prays, because he is afraid lest he should die; and of dying he is afraid, because he would fain have his life to be still a subject for further sufferings. For hearken to what the blessed Paul himself also saith. To depart, and to be with Christ, is far better; nevertheless, to abide in the flesh is more needful for you.* This he calls even a gift, where he writes, and says, Unto you it is given, in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also even to suffer for His sake.* So that this latter is greater than the other: for He gave it of His free grace; verily, a gift it is exceeding great, yea greater than any one of these, greater than to make the sun and the moon stand still, than to move the world! greater this than to have power over devils, or to cast out devils. They grieve not so much at being cast out by the faith which we exert, as when they behold us suffering any evil, and imprisoned for Christ’s sake. For this increases our boldness. Not for this is it so noble a thing to be in bonds that it procures for us a kingdom; it is that it is done for Christ’s sake. Not for this do I bless those bonds, for that they conduct on to Heaven; it is because they are worn for the sake of the Lord of Heaven. How great a boast to know that he was bound for Christ’s sake! How great a happiness, how high an honour, how illustrious a distinction! Fain would I ever be dwelling on these subjects. Fain would I cling to this chain. Fain would I, though in reality I have not the power, yet still in idea, bind this chain around my soul by a temper like his.

The prison, we read, was shaken where Paul was bound, and every one’s bands were loosed.* Beholdest thou then in bonds a nature, that can dissolve bonds themselves? for as the Lord’s death put death itself to death, so also did Paul’s bonds loose the men in bonds, shake the house of bondage, and open the doors. Yet is not this the true nature of bonds, but the very reverse; it is to keep him that is bound in safety, not to open for him the prison walls. No, of bonds then in general this is not the nature, but of those bonds which are for Christ’s sake, it is. The keeper of the prison fell down before Paul and Silas. And yet neither is this again the effect of chains in general, to lay the binders at the feet of the bound: no, but, on the contrary, to put these last under the hands of the former. Whereas here, the man who was at large was beneath the feet of the man who had been bound. The binder was beseeching him whom he had bound to release him from his fear. Tell me, was it not thou that bound him? Didst thou not cast him into the inner prison? Didst thou not make his feet fast in the stocks? Why tremblest thou? Why art thou troubled? Why weepest thou? Why hast thou drawn thy sword? Never bound I, saith he, aught like this! I knew not that the prisoners of Christ had power so mighty as this. What sayest thou? They received power to open Heaven, and should they not be able to open a prison? They loosed them that were bound by evil spirits, and was a piece of iron likely to conquer them? Thou knowest not the men. And therefore also wert thou pardoned. That prisoner is Paul, whom all the Angels reverence.* He is Paul, whose very handkerchiefs and napkins cast out devils, and chase diseases to flight. And sure the bond which is of the devil is adamantine, and far more indissoluble than iron; for this indeed binds the soul, the other only the body. He therefore that released souls in thraldom, shall not he have power to release his own body? He that could burst asunder the bonds of evil spirits, shall he not unloose a rivet of iron. He that by his very garments unloosed those prisoners, and released them from the spell of devils, shall not he of himself set himself at liberty? For this was he first bound himself, and then he loosed the prisoners, that thou mightest understand that Christ’s servants in bonds possess a power far greater than they that are at liberty. Had he wrought this at liberty, then had it not been so marvellous. So then the chain was not a token of weakness, but rather of a greater power, and thus is the saint’s might more illustriously displayed, when even in bonds he overpowers them that are at liberty, when he that is in bonds sets not only himself at liberty, but them that are in bonds also. Where is the use of walls? What the advantage of thrusting him into the inner prison, whereas he opened the outer also? and why too was it done in the night? and why with an earthquake?

Oh, bear with me a little, and forgive me while I refrain from the Apostle’s words, and revel in the Apostle’s deeds, and banquet on Paul’s chain; and grant me still longer to dwell upon it. I have laid hold on that chain, and no one shall part me from it. More fastly at this moment am I bound by affection, than was he then in the stocks. This is a bond which no one can loose, for it is formed of the love of Christ; this neither the Angels, no nor the kingdom of Heaven, have power to unloose. We may hear Paul’s own words; Neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, shall be able to separate us from the love of Christ.*

Now then, why did the event take place at midnight? And wherefore too with an earthquake? Hearken, and marvel at the providential orderings of God.* Every one’s bands were loosed, and the doors were opened. And yet was this done only for the jailor’s sake, not with a view to display, but with a view to his salvation: for that the prisoners knew not that they were loosed, is evident from Paul’s exclamation; for what said he? He cried with a loud voice, saying, Do thyself no harm, for we are all here.* But never would they all have been within, had they seen the doors opened, and themselves set at liberty. They who were used to cut through walls, and to scale roofs and parapets, and to venture on all sorts of attempts in chains, never would have endured to remain within, with both their bands loosed, and the doors opened, and the jailor too himself asleep; no, but to them the bond of sleep was instead of the bands of iron. Hence was it thus so providentially ordered, as that both the event should happen, and yet that no damage should ensue from the miracle to the jailor who was to be saved. And besides this too, they that are bound are bound most fastly in the night, not in the day; and so accordingly might we behold them bound again with all care and sleeping: but had these things been done in the day time, there would have been great stir and tumult.

Then again, wherefore was the building shaken? It was to arouse the jailor, to behold what was done, in that he alone was worthy of being saved. And do thou too, I say, behold, the exceeding greatness of the grace of Christ, for well were it in the midst of Paul’s bonds to make mention also of the gift of Christ, nay more, the very bonds themselves are of the gift and grace of God. Some indeed there are who complain that the jailor was saved, and from those very circumstances, for which they ought to admire the loving-kindness of God, from those they except against it. Nor is it any thing to be wondered at. Such are those sickly appetites, that find fault even with the food that nourishes them, which they ought to prize, and who affirm that honey is bitter: and those purblind sights, which are darkened by the very thing which ought to enlighten them. Not that these effects arise from the nature of the objects themselves, but from the weakness of the persons who are unable to use them duly. What, however, was I saying? When they ought to be admiring God’s loving-kindness, how that He took a man who had fallen into the most desperate wickedness, and was making him better, they say, “Why, how was it that he did not take the thing to be the work of witchcraft or of sorcery, and confine them the more closely, and cry out?” Many things conspired to prevent this; first, that he heard them singing praises to God. And sorcerers never would have been singing such hymns as those, for he heard them,* it is said, singing praises unto God. Secondly, the fact, that they themselves did not take flight, but even withheld him from killing himself. Now had they done it for their own sake, they never would have remained still within; they would have escaped clear away. Great again was their kindness also; they withheld the man from killing himself, even him who had bound them, thus all but saying unto him, “Truly, thou didst secure us with all safety, thou didst thrust us into the inner prison, thou didst bind us thus cruelly; that thou thyself mightest be loosed from the most cruel of all bonds.” For every one is shackled with the chains of his own sins; and those bonds are accursed, whereas these for Christ’s sake are blessed, and worth many an earnest prayer. For that these bonds can loose the other bands of sin, he represents to us by things sensible, by those bonds which are matters of sense. Didst thou behold them released, who had been bound with iron? Thou shalt see thyself also delivered from other bonds as galling. These bonds, the prisoners’ bonds, not those of Paul, I mean, are the effect of those other bonds, the bends of sins. They who were confined within, were doubly prisoners, and the jailor himself was a prisoner. They indeed were bound both with iron and with sins, he with sins only. Paul loosed them to assure the faith of the jailor, and the chains which he loosed were visible. And thus too did Christ Himself; nay more, He reversed the order. In that instance, there was a double palsy. What was that? There was that of the soul by sins, and also that of the body. And what then did the Lord do? Son, saith He, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee.* He first loosed the bands of the real and true palsy, and then proceeds to the other: for when certain of the Scribes said within themselves, This man blasphemeth; Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, Wherefore think ye evil in your hearts? For whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee, or to say, Arise, and walk. But, that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins, He saith to the sick of the palsy, Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine house. Having wrought the invisible miracle, He confirmed it by the visible, the spiritual by the bodily cure. And why did He do thus? That it might be fulfilled, which is spoken, Thou wicked servant, out of thine own mouth will I judge thee.* For what said they? None can forgive sins, but God alone. Of course, therefore, no Angel, nor Archangel, nor any other created power. This ye have yourselves confessed. And what then ought ye to conclude? If I shall be shewn to have forgiven sins, it is fully evident that I am God. However, He said not this, but what said He? But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins; then saith He to the sick of the palsy, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go unto thine house. When therefore He would say, I shall work the more difficult miracle, it is plain that there is no pretext left you, no room for gainsaying about the easier one. Hence it was that He wrought the invisible miracle first, because there were many gainsayers; and then He led them from the invisible to the visible itself.

Surely then the faith of the jailor was no light or hasty faith. He saw the prisoners. And he saw nothing, he heard nothing wrong; he saw that nothing was done by sorcery, for they were singing hymns unto God. He saw that every thing done proceeded from overflowing kindness, for they lifted not their hands against him, although they had it in their power; for it was in their power to rescue both themselves and the prisoners, and escape; and if not the prisoners, at all events themselves; but they did not do this. Thus did they challenge his reverence, not only by the miracle, but also by their behaviour. For how did Paul cry out? He cried with a loud voice, saying, Do thyself no harm, for we are all here. Thou seest at once his freedom from vain-glory and arrogance, and his fellow-feeling. He said not, “It is for us these wonders have been wrought,” but as though he were merely one of the prisoners, he said, For we are all here. And yet, even though they had not before this loosed themselves, nor had done so by means of the miracle, still they might have been silent, and have set all that were bound at liberty. For had they held their peace, and had they not with their loud crying stayed his hand, he would have thrust the sword through his throat. Wherefore also Paul cried out, because he had been cast into the inner ward: as though he had said, To thine own injury hast thou done this, that thou hast thrust in so far those that could deliver thee from the danger. However they imitated not the treatment they had received at his hands; though had he died, all would have escaped. Thou seest that they chose rather to remain in bonds, than to suffer him to perish. Hence too might he reason within himself, “Had they been sorcerers, doubtless they would have set the others at liberty, and have released themselves from their bonds:” (for it is likely that many such had also been imprisoned.) He was the more amazed, in that having often received sorcerers in charge, yet he had witnessed nothing done like this. A sorcerer never would have shaken the foundations, so as to startle the jailor from sleep, and thus render his own escape more difficult.

Now, however, let us proceed to look at the jailor’s faith. Then, saith the Scripture, he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? He grasped fire and sword, and cried, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shall be saved, and thy house.* “This is not the act of sorcerers,” he would say, “to deliver a doctrine like this. No mention any where here of an evil spirit.” Thou seest how worthy he was to be saved: for when he beheld the miracle, and was relieved from his terror, he did not forget what most concerned him, but even in the midst of so great peril, he was solicitous about that salvation which concerned his soul: and came before them in such a manner, as it was meet to come before teachers: he fell down at their feet. And they spake unto him, it continues, the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house. And he took them that same night, and washed their stripes; and was baptized, he and all his, straightway.* Observe the fervency of the man! He did not delay; he did not say, “Let day come, let us see, let us look about us;” but with great fervency, he was both himself baptized, and all his house. Yes, not like most men now-a-days, who suffer both servants and wives and children to go unbaptized. Be ye, I beseech you, like the jailor. I say not, in authority, but in purpose;* for what is the benefit of authority, where purpose is weak? Marvellous! that one so savage, so inhuman, so familiar with crimes out of number, who ever made this his study, should become all at once so humane, so tenderly attentive. He washed, it is said, their stripes.

And mark, on the other hand, the fervency of Paul also. He was bound, he was scourged, and thus he preached the Gospel. Oh, that blessed chain, with how great travail did it travail that night, what children did it bring forth! Yea of them too may he say, as he did to Philemon, Whom I have begotten in my bonds.* Mark thou, how he glories, and will have the children thus begotten, to be on that account the more illustrious! Mark thou, how transcendent is the glory of those bonds, in that they give lustre not only to him that wore them, but also to them who were on that occasion begotten by him. They have some advantage, who were begotten in Paul’s bonds, I say not in respect of grace, (for the grace is one and the same,) nor in respect of remission, (for the remission is one and the same to all,) but in that they are thus from the very outset taught to rejoice and to glory in such things. In the same hour of the night, it is said, he took them, and washed their stripes, and was baptized.

And now then behold the fruit. He straightway recompensed them with his carnal things. He brought them into his house, and straightway set meat before them, and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house. For what was he not ready to do, now that by the opening of the prison doors, heaven itself was opened to him? He washed his instructor, and set meat before him, and rejoiced. Paul’s chain entered into the prison, and transformed all things there into a Church; it made all members of Christ’s body, it prepared the spiritual feast, and travailed with that birth, at which Angels rejoice. And was it without reason then that I said that the prison was more glorious than Heaven? For it became a source of joy above; yes, if there is joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth,* if, where two or three are gathered together in His Name, there is Christ in the midst of them;* how much more, where Paul and Silas were, and the jailor and all his house, and faith so earnest as theirs! Observe the intense earnestness of their faith.

But this prison has reminded me of another prison. And what then is that? It is that where Peter was. Not, however, that any thing like this took place there. No. He was delivered to four quaternions of soldiers to keep him; he sang not, he watched not, but he slept; neither, again, had he been scourged. And yet was the peril greater, for in the case before us indeed the matter was all over, and the prisoners had undergone their punishment; but in his case it was yet to come. So that though there were no stripes to torture him, yet was there the anticipation of the future to distress him. And mark too the miracle there. Behold, the Angel of the Lord, it is related, came upon him, and a light shined in the prison; and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And straightway his chains fell off from his hands.* In order that he might not imagine the transaction to be the work of the light alone, he also struck Peter. Now no one saw the light, save himself only, and he thought it was a vision. So insensible are they that are asleep to the mercies of God. And the Angel, it proceeds, said unto him, Gird thyself, and bind on thy sandals; and so he did. And he saith unto him, Cast thy garment about thee, and follow me. And he went out, and followed him, and wist not that it was true which was done by the Angel; but thought he saw a vision. When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate, that leadeth unto the city, which opened to them of his own accord. And they went out, and, passed on through one street; and forthwith the Angel departed from him.* Why was not the same thing done here as was done in the case of Paul and Silas? Because in that case they were intending to release them. On that account God willed not that they should be released in this manner. Whereas in blessed Peter’s case, they were intending to lead him forth to execution. But what then, had it not been far more marvellous, some one may say, had he been led forth, and delivered over into the king’s hands, and then had been snatched away from the very midst of his imminent peril, and sustained no harm? For thus moreover, neither had the soldiers perished. Great is the question which has been raised upon this matter. What, did God, it is said, save His own servant with the punishment of others, with the destruction of others? What shall we say then? Now in the first place, it was not with the destruction of others. Next, this was not done, properly speaking, as a providential part of the transaction, but arose from the cruelty of the judge. How so? God had so providentially ordered it, as that not only these men should not perish, but moreover that even he, the judge, should have been saved, just as in this case of the jailor. But he did not use the boon aright. Now when it was day, it continues, there was no small stir amongst the soldiers, what was become of Peter. And what then? Herod makes strict enquiry into the matter, and he examined them, it is related, and commanded that they should be put to death.* Now, indeed, had he not examined them, there might have been some excuse. Whereas, as it is, he had them brought before him, he examined them, he found that Peter had been bound, that the prison had been well secured, that the keepers had been before the doors. No wall had been broken through, no door had been opened, nor was there any other evidence whatever of false dealing. He ought upon this to have been awed by the power of God, which had snatched Peter from the very midst of perils, and to have adored Him who was able to do such mighty works. But, on the contrary, he ordered those men off to execution. How then in this case is God the cause? Had He indeed caused the wall to be broken through, and thus had extricated Peter, possibly the deed might have been put to the account of their negligence. But if He so providentially ordered it, as that the matter should be shewn to be the work not of the evil agency of man, but of the miraculous agency of God, why did Herod act thus. For had Peter intended to make off, he would have fled as he was with his chains on. Had he intended to fly, in his confusion he never would have had so great forethought as to take even his sandals, but he would have left them. Whereas, as it is, the object of the Angel’s saying unto him, Bind on thy sandals, was that they might know that he had done the thing not in the act of flight, but with full leisure. For, bound as he was, and fixed between the two soldiers, he never would have found sufficient time to unbind the chains also, and especially as he too, like Paul, was in the inner ward. Thus then was the punishment of the keepers owing to the unrighteousness of the judge. For why did not the Jews do the same? For now again I am reminded of yet another prison. The first was that at Rome, next, was this at Cæsarea, now we come to that at Jerusalem. When then the chief Priests and the Pharisees heard from those whom they had sent to the prison to bring Peter out, that they found no man within, but both the doors closed, and the keepers standing before the doors,* why was it that they not only did not put the keepers to death, but, so far from it, even doubted of these things, whereunto this would grow? Now if the Jews, murderous as they were in their designs against them, yet entertained not a thought of the kind, much more shouldest not thou, who didst every thing to please those Jews. For this unrighteous sentence vengeance quickly overtook Herod.

But now if any complain of this, complain too of their case who are killed on the highway, and of that of ten thousand others who are unjustly put to death, and further, of the infants also that were slaughtered at the time of Christ’s birth; for Christ also, according to what thou allegest, was the cause of their deaths. But it was not Christ, but rather the madness and tyranny of Herod’s father. Dost thou ask, Why then did He not snatch them out of Herod’s hands? True, He might have done so, but there would have been nothing gained by so doing. How many times, at least, did Christ escape even from the grasp of their hands? And yet what good did this do to that unfeeling people? Whereas here there is even considerable benefit arising to the faithful from what was done. For as there were records made, and the enemies themselves bore testimony to the facts, the testimony was above suspicion. As therefore in that instance the mouths of the enemies were stopped in no other way whatever, but only by the persons who came acknowledging the facts, so was it also here. For why did the jailor here do nothing like what Herod did? Nay, and the things which Herod witnessed were not at all less wonderful than those which this man witnessed. So far as wonder goes, it is no less wonderful to be assured that a prisoner came out when the doors were closed, than it is to behold them set open. Indeed this last might rather have seemed to be perhaps a vision of the imagination, the other never could, when exactly and circumstantially reported. So that had this man been as wicked as Herod, he would have slain Paul, as the other did the soldiers; but such he was not.

But were I disposed to give an answer to them that ask, ‘Why was it that God permitted the children also to be murdered?’ I should fall, probably, into a longer discourse, than was originally intended to be addressed to you.

At this point, however, let us terminate our discourse, with many thanks to Paul’s chain, for that it has been made to us the source of so many blessings, and exhorting you, should ye have to suffer any thing for Christ’s sake, not only not to repine, but both to rejoice, as the Apostles did, yea, and to glory; as Paul said, Most gladly will I glory in my infirmities,* for because of this it was that he heard also those words, My grace is sufficient for thee. Paul glories in bonds; and dost thou pride thyself in riches? The Apostles rejoiced that they were counted worthy to be scourged, and dost thou seek for ease and self-indulgence? And how then hast thou any wish to attain the same end as they, if here on earth thou art travelling the contrary road from them. And now, saith Paul, I go bound in the Spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there, save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying, that bonds and afflictions abide me.* And why then dost thou set out, if bonds and afflictions abide thee? For this very reason, saith he, that I may be bound for Christ’s sake, that I may die for His sake. For I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die for the name of the Lord Jesus.*

It is not however our lot to be bound now-a-days. And yet there is another chain if we have a mind to wear it. What then is that? It is to restrain our hand, to be not so forward to covetousness. With this chain let us bind ourselves. Let the fear of God be unto us instead of a bond of iron. Let us loose them that are bound by poverty, by affliction. There is no comparison between opening the doors of a prison, and releasing an enthralled soul. There is no comparison between loosing the bonds of prisoners in chains, and setting at liberty them that are bruised;* this last is far greater than the other; for the other there is no reward in store, for this last the reward is infinite.

Paul’s chain has proved a long one, and has detained us a length of time. Yea, long indeed it is, and more beautiful than any chain of gold. A chain this, which draws them that are bound by it, as it were by a kind of invisible machinery, to Heaven, and, like a golden chain rising into the air, draws them up to the Heaven of heavens.* And the wonderful thing is this, that, bound, as it is, below, it thus draws its captives upwards: and this is not the nature of the things themselves. But where God orders and disposes, look not for nature in things, nor for natural consequence, but for things above nature, and natural consequence.

Let us learn not to sink even under affliction, nor even to repine; for look at this blessed saint. He had been scourged, and sorely scourged, for it is said, When they had beaten him with many stripes. He had been bound too, and that again sorely, for the jailor cast him into the inner ward, and with extraordinary security. And when he was in so many and great perils, at midnight, when even the most wakeful are asleep, with sleep, another and a stronger bond, upon them, they chanted and sang praise unto the Lord. What can be more adamantine than souls like these? They bethought them how that the holy Children sang even in fire and furnace. Perhaps they thus reasoned with themselves, “we have as yet suffered nothing like that.”

Yes, and our discourse has done well, in that it has thus brought us out again to other bonds, and into another prison. What shall I do? I would fain be silent, but am not able. I have discovered another prison, far more wonderful and more astonishing than the former. But, come now, rouse yourselves, as though I were just commencing my discourse, and attend to me with your minds as fresh. I would fain break off the discourse, but it will not suffer me; for just as a man in the midst of drinking cannot bear to break off his draught? no, not for any thing a man may offer him; so I too, now I have laid hold of this glorious cup of the prison of them that were bound for Christ’s sake, I cannot leave off, I cannot hold my peace. For if Paul in the prison, and in the night, kept not silence, no, nor under the scourge; shall I, who am sitting here by day-light, and so much at my ease, shall I hold my peace, when men in bonds, and under the scourge, and at midnight could not endure to do so? The holy Children were not silent, no, not in the furnace and in the fire, and are not we ashamed to hold our peace? Let us look then at this prison also. Here they were bound too, but at once and from the very outset it was evident that they were not about to be burned, but only to enter into the furnace, as into a prison. For why do ye bind men who are about to be committed to the flames? They were bound, as Paul was, hand and foot. They were bound with as great violence as he was. For the jailor thrust him into the inner prison; and the king commanded the furnace to be more intensely heated. And now let us see the issue. When Paul and Silas sang, the prison was shaken, and the doors were opened. When the three Children sang, the bonds both of their feet and hands were loosed. The prison was opened, and the doors of the furnace were opened: for a dewy breeze whistled through it.

But many thoughts at once crowd round upon me. I know not which to utter first, and which next. Wherefore, let no one, I entreat, require order of me, for the subjects are closely allied.

They who were bound together with Paul and Silas were loosed, and yet nevertheless they slept. In the case of the three Children, instead of that, another wonderful thing was wrought. The men who had cast them in, were themselves burned to death. And then, as I was fain to tell you, the king beheld them loose, and fell at their feet: he heard them singing their song of praise, and beheld four walking, and called them. Paul, though able, came not forth, until he who had cast him in called him, and brought him forth: so neither did the three Children come forth, until he who had cast them in commanded them to come forth. What lesson are we taught from this? Not to be over hasty in courting persecution, nor when in tribulation to be over eager for deliverance, and on the other hand when they release us not to continue in it. Further, the jailor, inasmuch as he was able to enter in where the saints were, fell down at their feet. The king came but to the door and stood. He dared not approach that inner prison which he had prepared for them in the fire. And now mark their words. The one cried, Sirs, what must I do to he saved?* The other, though not indeed with so great humility, yet uttered a voice of no less sweetness, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, ye servants of the most high God, come forth, and come hither.* Mighty dignity! Ye servants of the most high God, come forth, and come hither. How shall they come forth, O king? Thou didst cast them bound into the fire; have they continued this long time in the fire? Why, had they been made of adamant, had they been blocks of metal, in singing that entire hymn, must they not have perished? Yet for this they were saved, because they sang praises to God. The fire reverenced their courage, it reverenced that wonderful song, and their hymns of praise. By what title dost thou call them? I said before, Ye servants of the most high God. Yes, to the servants of God, all things are possible; for if some, who are the servants of men, have, nevertheless, power, and authority, and the disposal of their concerns, much more have the servants of God. He called them by the name most delightful to them, he knew that this was the most flattering title he could use: for indeed, if it was in order that they might continue servants of God, that they entered into the fire, there could be no sound more delightful to them than this. Had he called them kings, had he called them lords of the world, yet would he not so truly have rejoiced them as when he said, Ye servants of the most high God. And why marvel at this? when, in writing to the mighty city, to her who was mistress of the world, and prided herself upon her high dignities, Paul set down as equivalent in dignity, nay, as far greater, yea incomparably greater, better than consulship, or kingly name, or than the empire of the world, this title, Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ.—Ye servants of the most high God.* Yes, he would say, if they shew so great zeal to be servants, doubtless this is the title by which we shall move them.

Again, observe also the piety of the Children: they shewed no indignation, no anger, no gainsaying, but they came forth. Had they regarded it as an act of vengeance that they had been thrown into the furnace, they would have been grieved against the man who had cast them in; as it is, there is nothing of the kind; but, as though they were going forth from Heaven itself, so went they forth. And what the Prophet says of the Sun, that He is as a bridegroom coming forth out of his chamber,* one would not do amiss in saying also of them. How so? Because, thus gloriously as he comes forth, yet came they forth there yet more gloriously than he, in that he indeed comes forth to enlighten the world with natural light, they to enlighten the world in a different way, I mean, spiritually. For because of them the king straightway issued a decree, containing these words, I thought it good to display the signs and wonders that the high God hath wrought toward me. How great are His signs! And how mighty are His wonders!* Thus then went they forth, shedding a yet more glorious radiance, beaming indeed over those countries themselves, but, what is more than all, capable, by means of the king’s writings, of being diffused every where, and thus of dispelling the darkness which every where prevails. Come forth, said he, and come hither. He gave no commandment to extinguish the flame, but hereby most especially honoured them, by believing that they were able not only to walk within it, but even to come out of it as it raged.

But let us look again, if it seem good to you, at the words of the jailor, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? What language sweeter than this? This makes the very Angels leap for joy. To hear this language, even the Only-begotten Son of God Himself became a servant. This language they who at the beginning believed addressed to Peter.* What shall we do to be saved? And what said he in answer? Believe, and be baptized. To have heard this language from the Jews, gladly would Paul have been cast even into hell, in his eagerness for their salvation and obedience. But observe, he commits the whole matter to them, he makes no unnecessary difficulties. Let us however look at the next point. The king here does not say, What must I do to be saved? but the doctrine is plainer in his case than any language whatever; for he straightway becomes a preacher, he needs not to be instructed like the jailor. He proclaims God, and makes confession of His V. Dan. power. Of a truth I know that your God, He is God of Gods and Lord of Lords, because He hath sent His Angel, and hath delivered you from the furnace.* And what was the sequel? Not one single jailor, but numbers are instructed by the king’s writings, by the sight of the facts. For that the king would not have told a falsehood is evident enough to every one, because he never would have chosen to bear such testimony to captives, nor to overthrow his own acts; he never would have chosen to incur the imputation of such utter madness: so that had not the truth been abundantly manifest, he would not have written in such terms, and with so many persons present.

Perceive ye how great is the power of bonds? How great the force of those praises that are sung in tribulation? Their heart failed not, they were not cast down, but were then yet more vigorous, and their courage then yet greater: they justly thought, “one thing yet is left us.”

Why was it that in the prison on the one hand, the prisoners were loosed, whilst in the furnace the executioners were burnt to death: for that indeed should have been the king’s fate, because neither were they who bound them, nor they who cast them into the furnace, so truly the sinners as the man who commanded this should be done. On this point there is not any very great need of minute examination; for they were impious. And therefore this was providentially ordered, that the power of the fire might be shewn, and the miracle might be made more signal; for if it thus devoured them that were without, how did it shew them unscathed that were within it? it was that the power of God might be made manifest. And let no one wonder that I have put the king on a level with the jailor, for he did the same thing; the one was in no wise more noble than the other, and they both had their reward.

But, as I said, the righteous, when they are in tribulations, are then especially more energetic, when they are in bonds: for to suffer any thing for Christ’s sake is the sweetest of all consolation.

Will ye that I remind you of yet another prison? It seems necessary to go on from this chain to another prison still. And which will ye? Shall it be that of Jeremiah, or of Joseph, or of John? Thanks to Paul’s chain; how many prisons has it opened to our discourse? Will ye have that of John? He also was once bound for Christ’s sake, and for the law of God. What then? Was he idle when he was in prison? Was it not from thence he sent, and from the prison said to his disciples, Go and say unto Christ, Art Thou He that should come, or do we look for another?* Even when there then it seems he taught, for surely he did not disregard his duty. But again, did not Jeremiah prophesy concerning the king of Babylon, and fulfil his work even there in prison? And what of Joseph? Was he not in prison thirteen years? And yet not even there did he forget his virtue. I have yet the bonds of one to mention, and with them will close my discourse. Our Master Himself was bound, He who loosed the world from sins. Those hands were bound which had wrought excellent things without number. For, they bound Him,* it saith, and brought Him to Caiaphas;* yes, He who had wrought so many marvellous works was bound.

Reflecting on these things, let us never repine; but whether we be in bonds, let us rejoice; or whether we be not in bonds, let us be as though we were bound together with Him. See, how great a blessing are bonds! Knowing all these things, let us send up our thanksgiving for all to God, through Christ Jesus our Lord.

Homily IX

We have demonstrated the power of Paul’s chain, a power both great, and more glorious than miracles. It is not in vain then, as it should seem, nor without an object, that he here holds it forward, but as the means of all others most likely to touch them. And what saith he? I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you, that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called. And how is that? with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love.

It is not the being merely a prisoner that is honourable, but the being so for Christ’s sake. Hence he saith, The prisoner of the Lord, i.e. for Christ’s sake. Nothing is there to be compared to this. But now the chain is dragging me away still more from my subject, and pulling me back again, and I cannot bear to resist it, but am drawn along even against my will,—yea, rather, with all my heart; and would that it were always my lot to be descanting on Paul’s chain.

But now, go not off to sleep: for I am yet desirous to solve that other question, which many raise, when they say, Why, if tribulation be a glory, how came Paul himself to say in his defence to Agrippa, I would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds?* He said not this, God forbid! as deeming the thing a matter to be deprecated; no; for had it been such, he would not have gloried in bonds, in imprisonments, in all those other tribulations; nor would he have written and said, Most gladly will I glory in my infirmities.* But what is the case? This was itself a proof how great a thing he considered those bonds; for as in writing to the Corinthians he said, I have fed you with milk, and not with meat, for as yet ye were not able to bear it;* such surely was the case also here. They before whom he spoke were not able to hear of the beauty, nor the comeliness, nor the blessing of those bonds. Hence it was he added, except these bonds. To the Hebrews however he spoke not thus, but exhorted them to be bound with* them that were in bonds. And hence too did he himself rejoice in his bonds, and was put in prison, and was led with the prisoners into the inner prison. Mighty is the power of Paul’s chain! A spectacle this, which may suffice for every other, to behold Paul bound, and led forth from his prison; to behold him bound, and sitting within it, what pleasure can come up to this? What would I not give for such a sight? Do ye see the emperors, the consuls, borne along in their chariots and arrayed in gold, and their body-guard with every thing about them of gold? Their halberds of gold, their shields of gold, their raiment of gold, their horses with trappings of gold? How far more more delightful than such a spectacle is that! I would rather see Paul once, going forth with the prisoners from his prison, than behold these ten thousand times over parading along with all that retinue. When he was thus led forth, how many Angels, suppose ye, led the way before him? And to shew that I speak no fiction, I will make the fact manifest to you from a certain ancient narrative.

Elisha the prophet, perhaps ye know the man, at the time* when the king of Syria was at war with the king of Israel, sitting at his own home, brought to light all the counsels which the king of Syria was taking in his chamber with them that were privy to his designs, and rendered the king’s counsels of none effect, by telling beforehand his secrets, and not suffering the king of Israel to fall into the snares which the other was laying. This sorely troubled the king; he was disheartened, and was reduced to great perplexity, not knowing how to discover him who was disclosing all that passed, and plotting against him, and disappointing his schemes. Whilst therefore he was in this perplexity, and enquiring into the cause, one of his guards told him, that there was a certain prophet, one Elisha, who dwelt in Samaria, that he it was who suffered not the king’s designs to stand, but disclosed all that passed. The king on hearing this imagined that he had discovered the whole matter. Sure, never was any thing more miserable than he. For, observe, when he ought to have honoured the man, to have reverenced him, to have been awed to think how he really possessed so great power, as that seated, as he was, so many furlongs off, he should know all that passed in the king’s chamber, without any one at all to tell him; this indeed he did not, but being exasperated, and wholly carried away by his passion, he equips horsemen, and soldiers, and dispatches them to bring the prophet before him.

Now Elisha had a disciple as yet only on the threshold of prophecy,* nor as yet judged to be worthy of revelations of this kind. The king’s soldiers were arrived at the spot, as intending to bind the man, or rather the prophet.—Again I am falling upon bonds, and how can I help it? so entirely is this discourse interwoven with them.—And when the disciple saw the host of soldiers, he was affrighted, and ran full of fear and trembling to his master, and told him the calamity, as he thought, and informed him of the inevitable peril. The prophet smiled at him for fearing things not worthy to be feared, and bade him be of good cheer. The disciple, however, being as yet imperfect, did not listen to him, but being still scared at the sight, could not free himself from his fear. Upon this, what did the prophet do? Lord, said he, open the eyes of this young man, and let him see that they which are with us, are more than they which are with them;* and immediately he beheld the whole mountain, where the prophet then dwelt, filled with horses and chariots of fire. Now these were nothing else than ranks of Angels. But if Elisha only for an occasion like this had so great a band of Angels, what must Paul have had? This is what the prophet David also tells us. The Angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him.* And again They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.* And why do I speak of Angels? The Lord Himself was with him then as he went forth; for surely it cannot be that He was seen by Abraham, and yet was not with Paul. No, it was His own promise, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.* And again, when He appeared to him, He said, Be not afraid, but speak, for I am with thee, and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee.* Again, He stood by him in a dream, and said, Be of good cheer, Paul, for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also at Rome.*

The saints, though they are at all times a glorious sight, and are full of abundant grace, yet are so, most of all, when they are in perils for Christ’s sake, when they are prisoners; for as a brave soldier is at all times and of himself a delightful spectacle to them that behold him, but most of all when he is standing, and on guard at the king’s side; so was Paul, and in such position imagine him to yourselves, so far as you might fancy you could see him, teaching in his bonds.

I would mention, in passing, a thought, which just at this moment occurs to me. The blessed martyr Babylas was bound, and he too for the very same cause as John also was, because he reproved a king in his transgression. This man when he was dying gave charge that his bonds should be laid with his body, and that the body should be buried bound; and to this day the fetters are lying mingled with his ashes, so devoted was his affection for the bonds he had worn for Christ’s sake. The iron, as the Prophet saith of Joseph, entered into his soul.* And even women have before now had trial of these bonds.

We however are not in bonds, nor am I recommending this, since now is not the time for it. But thou, bind not thine hands, but bind thy heart and mind. There are yet other bonds, and they that wear not the one, shall have to wear the other. Hear what Christ saith, Bind him hand and foot.* But God forbid we should have trial of those bonds! but of these may He grant us even to take our fill!

On these accounts he saith, I, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you, that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called. And again, We have a Head, even Christ;* for though we were enemies*, and had committed misdeeds out of number, yet hath He raised us up, and made us sit together with Him in the heavenly places.* A high calling this, and to high privileges, not only in that we have been called from that former state, but in that we are called both to such privileges, and by such a method.

But how is it possible to walk worthy of it? With all lowliness. Such an one walks worthily. This is the basis of all virtue. If thou be lowly, and bethink thee what thou art, and how thou art saved, thou wilt take this recollection as a motive to all virtue. Thou wilt neither be elated with bonds, nor with those very privileges which I mentioned, but as knowing that all is of grace, thou wilt humble thyself. The lowly-minded man is able to be at once a generous and a grateful servant. For what hast thou, saith he, which thou hast not received?* And again, hear his words, I laboured more abundantly than they all; yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.*

With all lowliness, saith he; not that which is in words, nor that which is in actions only, but even in one’s very bearing and tone of voice: be not lowly towards one, and rude towards another; be lowly towards all men, be he friend or foe, be he great or small. This is lowliness. Even in thy good deeds be lowly; for hear what Christ saith, Blessed are the poor in spirit;* and He places this first in order. Wherefore also the Apostle himself saith, With all lowliness, and meekness, and long-suffering. For it is possible for a man to be lowly, and yet quick and irritable, and thus all is to no purpose; for oftentimes he will be possessed by his anger, and ruin all.

How is it possible to forbear, if a man be passionate or censorious? He hath told us therefore the manner: in love, saith he. If thou, he would say, art not forbearing to thy neighbour, how shall God be forbearing to thee? If thou bearest not with thy fellow-servant, how shall the Master bear with thee? Wherever there is love, all things are to be borne.

Bind therefore thy hands by forbearance. Again that goodly name of bond has bloomed; we had dismissed it, and it has of itself come back on us again. A goodly bond was that, and goodly is this one also, and that other is the fruit of this. Bind thyself to thy brother. They bear all things lightly, who are bound together in love. Bind thyself to him and him to thee; thou art lord of both, for whomsoever I may be desirous to make my friend, I can with ease accomplish it.

Endeavouring. He here shews that it is a thing not to be done easily, and that it is not in every one’s power.

Endeavouring, he proceeds, to keep the unity of the Spirit. What is this unity of spirit? In the human body there is a spirit which holds the several parts together, and forms in some sort into one what exists in different members. So is it also here; for to this end was the Spirit given, that He might unite those who are separated by race and by different manners; for old and young, rich and poor, child, youth, and man, male and female, and every soul become in a manner one, and more entirely so than if there were one body. For this spiritual relation is far higher than the other natural one, and the perfectness of the union more entire; because the conjunction of the soul is more perfect, inasmuch as it is both simple and uniform. And how then is this unity preserved? In the bond of peace. It is not possible for this to exist in enmity and discord. For where there are strifes, saith he, among you, and envyings, and divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk according to man?* For as fire when it finds dry pieces of wood works up all together into one blazing pile, but when wet, does not act at all nor unite them; so also it is here. No cold substance can tighten this union, whereas any warm one for the most part can. Hence at least it is that the glow of charity is produced; by the bond of peace, he is desirous to bind us all together. For just in the same way, he would say, as if thou wouldest attach thyself to another, thou canst do it in no other way except by attaching him to thyself; and if thou shouldest wish to make the tie double, he must needs in turn attach himself to thee; so also here he would have us tied one to another; not simply that we be at peace, not simply that we love one another, but that there should be in all one soul. A glorious bond is this; with this bond let us bind ourselves together alike to one another and to God. This is a bond that bruises not, nor cramps the hands it binds, but it leaves them free, and gives them ample play, and greater energy than those which are at liberty. The strong if he be bound to the weak, will support him, and not suffer him to perish: and if again he be tied to the indolent, him he will rather rouse and animate. Brother helped by brother, it is said, is as a strong city.* This chain no distance of place can interrupt, neither heaven, nor earth, nor death, nor any thing else, but it is more powerful and stronger than all things. This, though it issue from but one soul, is able to embrace numbers at once; for hear what Paul saith, Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are straitened in your own bowels; be ye also enlarged.*

Now then, what impairs this bond? Love of money, passion for power, for glory, and the like, loosens them, and severs them asunder. How then are we to see that they be not cut asunder. By seeing that these tempers be got rid of, and that none of those things which destroy charity come in by the way to trouble us. For hear what Christ saith, When iniquity shall abound, the lore of the many shall wax cold.* Nothing is so opposed to love as sin, and I mean not to love towards God, but to that towards our neighbour also. But how then, it may be said, are even robbers at peace? When are they, tell me? Doubtless then when they are acting in a spirit which is not that of robbers; for if they fail to observe the rules of justice amongst those with whom they divide the spoil, and to render to every one his right, you will find them too in wars and broils. So that neither amongst the wicked is it possible to find peace: and where men are living in righteousness and virtue, you may find it every where. But again, are rivals ever at peace? Never. And whom then would ye have me mention? The covetous man can never possibly be at peace with the covetous. So that were there not just and good persons to be wronged and to stand between them, the whole race would be torn to pieces. When two wild beasts are famished, if there be not something put between them to consume, they will devour one another. The same would be the case with the covetous and the vicious. So that it is not in nature that there should be peace where virtue is not strictly practised first. Let us form, if you please, a city entirely of covetous men, give them equal privileges, and let no one give his assent to be wronged, but let all wrong one another. Can that city possibly hold together? It is impossible. Again, is there peace amongst adulterers? No, not any two will you find of the same mind.

So then, to return, there is no other reason for this, than that love hath waxed cold; and the cause again why love hath waxed cold, is that iniquity abounds. For this leads to selfishness, and divides and severs the body, and puffs it up, and rends it to pieces. Whereas where virtue is, it does the reverse. Because the man that is virtuous is also above money; so that were there ten thousand such in poverty they would still be peaceable; whilst the covetous, where there are but two, can never be at peace. Thus then if we are virtuous, love is never destroyed, for virtue springs from love, and love from virtue. And how this is, I will tell you. The virtuous man does not value money above friendship, nor does he remember injuries, nor does wrong to his neighbour; he is not insolent, he endures all things nobly. Of these things love consists. Again, he who loves will perform all these duties, and thus do they reciprocally produce one another. And this indeed, that love springs from virtue, appears from hence, because our Lord when He saith, because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold, plainly tells us this. And that virtue again is generated by love, Paul tells us, saying, He that loveth his neighbour hath fulfilled the law.* So then a man must be one of the two, either very affectionate and much beloved, or else very virtuous; for he who has the one, of necessity possesses the other; and, on the contrary, he who knows not how to love, will therefore commit evil actions; and he who commits evil actions, knows not what it is to love.

Let us then follow after love; he saith not simply let us love; but let us follow after love.* Great is the eagerness required: she is soon out of sight, she is most rapid in her flight; so many things are there in life which injure her. If we follow her, she will not outstrip us and get away, but we shall speedily recover her. The love of God is that which united earth to Heaven. It was the love of God that seated man upon the kingly throne. It was the love of God that manifested God upon earth. It was the love of God that made the Lord a servant. It was the love of God that caused the Beloved to be delivered up for His enemies, the Son for them that hated Him, the Lord for His servants, God for men, the free for slaves. Nor did it stop here, but called us to yet greater things. Yes, not only did it release us from our former evils, but promised, moreover, to bestow upon us other and yet greater blessings. For these things then let us give thanks to God, and follow after every virtue; and before all things, let us with all strictness so perfectly order our charity, that we may be counted worthy to attain the promised blessings; through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father glory, might, and honour, now and for ever and ever.

Homily X

When the blessed Paul exhorts us to any thing of special importance, so truly wise and spiritual as he is, he grounds his exhortation upon things in Heaven: this itself being a lesson he had learned from the Lord. Thus he saith also elsewhere, Walk in love, even as Christ also hath loved us.* And again, Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus, who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God.* This is what he is doing here also, for whenever the examples he is setting before us are great, he is intense in his zeal and feeling. What then does he say, now he is inciting us to unity? There is one body, and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling:

Now what is this one body? The faithful throughout the whole world, both which are, and which have been, and which shall be, and again, they that before Christ’s coming pleased God, are one body. How so? Because they also knew Christ. Whence does this appear? Your father Abraham, saith He, rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it, and was glad.* And again, If ye had believed Moses, He saith, ye would have believed Me, for he wrote of Me.* And the prophets too would not have written of One, of whom they knew not what they said; whereas they both knew Him, and worshipped Him. Thus then were they also one body.

The body is not disjoined from the spirit, for then would it not be a body. Thus it is customary also with us, touching things which are united, and which have any great consistency or coherence, to say, they are one body. And thus again, touching union, we take that to be a body which is under one head. If there be one head, then is there one body. The body is composed of members both honourable and dishonourable. Only the greater is not to rise up even against the meanest, nor this latter to envy the other. They do not all indeed contribute the same share, but severally according to the proportion of need. And forasmuch as all are formed for necessary and for different purposes, all are of equal honour. Some indeed there are, which are more especially principal members, others less so: for example, the head is more a principal member than all the rest of the body, as containing within itself all the senses, and the governing principle of the soul. And to live without the head is impossible; whereas many persons have lived for a long time with their feet cut off. So that it is better than they, not only by its position, but also by its very vital energy and its function.

Now why am I saying this? There are great numbers in the Church; there are those who, like the head, are raised up to a height, who, like the eyes that are in the head, survey heavenly things, who stand far aloof from the earth, and have nothing in common with it. Whilst others occupy the rank of feet, and tread upon the earth; of healthy feet indeed, for to tread upon the earth is no crime in feet, but to run to evil. Their feet, saith the Prophet, run to evil.* Neither then let these, the head, saith he, be high-minded against the feet, nor the feet look with evil eye at them. For thus the peculiar beauty of each is destroyed, and the perfectness of its function impeded. And naturally enough; inasmuch as he who lays snares for his neighbour will be laying snares first of all for himself. And should the feet therefore not choose to convey the head any where upon its necessary journey, they will at the same time be injuring themselves by their inactivity and sloth. Or again, should the head not choose to take any care of the feet, itself will be the first to sustain the damage. However, those members do not rise up one against the other; it is not likely, for it has been so ordered by nature that they should not. But with man, how is it possible for him not to rise up against man? No one, we know, ever rises up against Angels; since neither do they rise against the Archangels. Nor, on the other hand, can the irrational creatures proudly exalt themselves over us; but where the nature is equal in dignity, and the gift one, and where one has no more than another, how shall this be prevented?

And yet surely these are the very reasons why thou oughtest not to rise up against thy neighbours. For if all things are common, and one has nothing more than another, whence this mad folly? We partake of the same nature, partake alike of soul and body, we breathe the same air, we use the same food. Whence this rebellious rising of one against another? And yet truly the being able by one’s virtue to overcome the incorporeal powers, that were enough to lead to arrogance; or rather arrogance it would not be, for with good reason am I high-minded, and exceedingly high-minded against the evil spirit. And behold even Paul, how high-minded he was against that evil spirit. For when the evil spirit was speaking great and marvellous things concerning him, he made him hold his peace, and endured him not even in his flattery. For when that damsel, who had the spirit of divination, cried, saying, These men are the servants of the most high God, which show unto us the way of salvation,* he rebuked him severely, and silenced his forward tongue. And again he elsewhere writes, and says, God shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly.*

Will the difference of nature have any effect? Perceivest thou not that the difference between natures has no effect whatever, but only the difference of purpose? Because of their principle therefore they are far worse than all. Well, a man may say, but I am not rising up against an Angel, because there is so vast a distance between my nature and his. And yet surely thou oughtest no more to rise up against a man than against an Angel, for the Angel indeed differs from thee in nature, a matter which can be neither an honour to him, nor a disgrace to thee: whereas man differs from man not at all in nature, but in principle; and there is such a thing as an Angel too even amongst men. So that if thou rise not up against Angels, much more shouldest thou not against men, against those who have become Angels in this our nature; for should any one among men become as virtuous as an Angel, that man is in a far higher degree superior to thee, than an Angel is. And why so? Because what the one possesses by nature, the other has achieved of his own purpose. And again, because the Angel has his home far from thee in distance also, and dwelleth in Heaven; whereas this man is living and conversing with thee, and giving an impulse to thy emulation. And yet indeed he has his home still farther from thee than the Angel. For our conversation, saith the Apostle, is in Heaven.* And to shew thee that this man hath his home still farther distant, hear where his Head is seated; upon the throne, saith he, the royal throne! And the farther distant that throne is from us, the farther in the same proportion is he also.

Well, but I see him, thou wilt say, in the enjoyment of honour, and I am forced to jealousy. Why, this is the very thing which has turned all things upside down, which has filled not the world only, but the Church also, with endless confusion. And just as fierce and rough blasts setting in across a calm harbour, render it more dangerous than any rock, or than any strait whatever; so the lust of glory entering in, overturns and confounds every thing.

Ye have oftentimes been present at the burning of large houses. Ye have seen how the smoke keeps rising up to Heaven; and if no one comes near to put a stop to the mischief, but every one keeps looking to himself, the flame spreads freely on, and devours every thing. And oftentimes the whole city will stand round; they will stand round indeed as spectators of the evil, not to aid nor assist. And there you may see them one and all standing round, and doing nothing, each individual, perhaps, stretching out his hand, and pointing out to some one who may be just come to the spot, either a flaming brand that moment flying through a window, or beams and rafters hurled down, or the whole circuit of the walls forced out, and tumbling violently to the ground. Many too there are of the more daring and venturesome, who will have the hardihood even to come close to the very buildings themselves whilst they are burning, not in order so much as to stretch forth a hand towards them, and to put a stop to the mischief, but only that they may be able to take a closer survey of all those things which usually escape the notice of those at a distance, and so may the more fully enjoy the sight. Then if the house shall further happen to be large and magnificent, they will look upon it as a pitiable spectacle, and deserving of many tears. And truly there is a pitiable spectacle for us to behold; capitals of columns crumbled to dust, and many columns themselves shattered to pieces, some consumed by the fire, others thrown down often by the very hands which erected them, that they may not add fuel to the flame. Statues again, which stood with so much gracefulness, with the ceiling resting on them, these you may see all exposed, with the roof torn off, and themselves standing hideously disfigured in the open air. And why should one go on to describe the wealth stored up within; the tissues of gold, and the vessels of silver: yea, and the chamber too into which none entered but the lord and his consort, where was the treasurehouse of tissues and perfumes, and the caskets of the costly jewels,—all turned into one blazing pile, and within it now, bathing men, and beggars, and runaway slaves, and all who choose, and every thing within, one mass of fire and water, of mud, and dust, and half-burnt beams!

Now why have I drawn out so full a picture as this? Not simply because I wish to represent to you the conflagration of a house, (for what concern is that of mine?) but because I wish to set before your eyes, as vividly as I can, the calamities of the Church. For like a conflagration, a conflagration in very deed, or like a thunderbolt hurled from on high, have they lighted upon the roof of the Church, and yet they rouse no one; but, whilst our Father’s house is burning, we are slumbering on in a deep and stupid sleep. And yet who is there whom this fire does not touch? Which of the statues that stand in the Church? for the Church is nothing else than a house built of the souls of us men. Now this house is not of equal honour throughout, but of the stones which combine to form it, some are bright and shining, whilst others are smaller and more dull than they, and yet superior again to others. There we may see many who are in the place of gold also, the gold which adorns the ceiling. Others again we may see who give the beauty and gracefulness produced by statues. Many we may see, standing like pillars, (for he has called men also pillars,)* giving great gracefulness, not by their support only, but by their beauty also, and having their heads overlaid with gold. We may see a multitude, forming generally the wide middle space and the whole extent of the circumference; for the body at large occupies the place of those stones of which the outer walls are built. Or rather we must go on to a more splendid picture yet. This Church, of which I speak, is not built of these stones, such as we see around us, but of gold and silver, and of precious stones, and there is abundance of gold dispersed every where throughout it. But, oh the bitter tears this calls forth! For all these things hath the lawless rule of vain-glory consumed; that all-devouring flame, which no one has yet got under. And we stand gazing in amazement at the flames, but no longer able to quench the evil: or if we do quench it for a short time, yet after two or three days, like a spark blown up from a heap of ashes, it will overturn all, and consume all which it had not consumed before. Such, I say, is the case here: and this is just what is wont to happen in such a conflagration. And the cause is this. The foundations of the very pillars of the Church have been lost to us; those who supported the roof, and who formerly held the whole building together, have been enveloped in the flame. Hence too was a ready communication to the rest of the outer walls: for so also in the case of buildings, when the fire lays hold of the timbers, it is better armed for its attack upon the stones; but when it has brought down the pillars and levelled them with the ground, nothing more is wanted to consume all the rest in the flames. For when the props and supports of the upper parts fall down, those parts also themselves will speedily enough follow them. Thus is it also at this moment with the Church: the fire has laid hold on every part. We seek the honours that come from man, we burn for glory, and we hearken not to Job when he saith, Even though I sinned unwittingly—did I fear a great multitude? Behold ye a virtuous spirit? I was not ashamed, he saith, to own before the whole multitude my involuntary sins. And if he was not ashamed to confess, much more were it our duty to do so. For saith the prophet, Declare thou first thy transgressions, that thou mayest be justified.* Great is the violence of this evil, every thing is overturned by it and annihilated. We have forsaken the Lord, and are become slaves of honour. We are no longer able to rebuke those who are under our rule and guidance, because we ourselves also are possessed with the same fever as they. We who are appointed by God to heal others, need the physician ourselves. What further hope of recovery is there left, when even the very physicians themselves need the healing hand of others?

I have not said these things without an object, nor am I making lamentations to no purpose, but with the view that one and all, with our women and children, sprinkled with ashes, and girded about with sackcloth, we may keep a long fast, may beseech God Himself to stretch forth His hand to us,* and to stay the peril. For need is there indeed of His hand, that mighty, that marvellous hand. Greater things are required of us than of the Ninevites. Yet three days, said the prophet, and Nineveh shall be overthrown.* A fearful message, and burthened with tremendous threat. And how should it be otherwise; to expect that within three days, the city should become their tomb, and that all should perish in one common judgment. For if, when it happens that two children die at the same time in one house, the hardship becomes intolerable, and if Job regarded this of all things the most intolerable, that the roof fell in upon all his children, and they were thus killed; what must it be to behold not one house, nor two children, but a nation of a hundred and twenty thousand buried beneath the ruins!

Ye know how terrible a disaster is this, for lately has this very warning happened to us, not that any prophet uttered a voice, (for we are not worthy to hear such a voice,) but the warning cried aloud from on high more distinctly than any trumpet. However, as I was saying, There are yet three days, said the prophet, and Nineveh shall be overthrown. A terrible warning indeed, but now we have nothing even like that; no, there are no longer three days, nor is there a Nineveh to be overthrown, but many days are already past since the Church throughout all the world has been overthrown, and levelled with the ground, and all alike are overwhelmed in the evil; nay more, and they that are in high places are involved in the same guilt as the rest. And hence is the calamity worse, in proportion as the distress is heavier upon them. Wonder not therefore why I should exhort you to do greater things than the Ninevites; nay more, nor do I now proclaim a fast only, but I suggest to you the remedy which raised up that city also when falling. And what was that? The Lord saw, saith the prophet, that they turned every one from his evil way, and He repented of the evil that He had said that He would do unto them.* This let us do, both we and you. Let us renounce the passion for riches, the lust for glory, beseeching God to stretch forth His hand, and to raise up our fallen limbs. And well may we, for our fear is not for the same objects as theirs; for then indeed it was only stones and timbers that were to fall, and bodies that were to perish; but now it is none of these, no, but souls are about to be delivered over to hell fire. Let us implore, let us confess unto Him, let us give thanks unto Him for what is past, let us entreat Him for what is to come, that we may be counted worthy to be delivered from this fierce and most terrible monster, and to lift up our thanksgivings to the kind and loving God and Father, to whom, with the Son, together with the Holy Ghost, be glory, might, and honour, now, henceforth, and for ever and ever.

Homily XI

The love Paul requires of us is no common love, but that which cements us together, and makes us cleave inseparably to one another, and effects as great and as perfect an union, as though it were between limb and limb. For this is that love which produces great and glorious fruits. Hence he saith, there is one body, one, both by sympathy, and by not being vexed at other’s good, and by sharing their joy. And thus having expressed all these at once by this figure, he then beautifully adds, and one Spirit; shewing that from the one body, there will be one Spirit: or, that it is possible that there may be indeed one body, and yet not one Spirit; as, for instance, if any member of it should be a friend of heretics: or else he is, by this expression, shaming them into unanimity, saying as it were, ‘Ye who have received one Spirit, and have been made to drink at one fountain, ought not to be divided in mind;’ or else by spirit here he means their zeal. Then in connection he adds, Even as ye have been called in one hope of your calling, that is, God hath called you all on the same terms. He hath bestowed nothing upon one more than upon another. To all He hath freely given immortality, to all eternal life, to all immortal glory, to all brotherhood, to all inheritance. He is the common Head of all; He hath raised all up, and made them sit together with Him.* Ye then who in the spiritual world have so great equality of privileges, why are ye high-minded? Is it that one is wealthy and another strong? How ridiculous must this be? For tell me, if the emperor some day were to take ten persons, and to array them all in purple, and seat them on the royal throne, and to bestow upon all the same honour, would any one of these, think ye, venture to taunt another, as though he were himself more wealthy or more illustrious than he? Surely never. And I have not yet said all; for the difference is not so great as this. In Heaven then are we equal, and do we differ here below? There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism. Behold the hope of your calling. One God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in all, one and the same. For can it be, that thou art called by the name of a greater, another, of a lesser God? That thou art saved by faith, and another by works? That thou hast received remission in baptism, whilst another has not? Away with such a thought. There is one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you all. Who is above all, that is, above and over all; and through all, that is, providing for, ordering all; and in you all, that is, who dwelleth in you all. Now this they own to be an attribute of the Son; so that were it an argument of inferiority, it never would have been said of the Father.

What then, he saith, and whence are those diverse spiritual gifts? For this subject was continually carrying away both the Ephesians themselves, and the Corinthians, and many others, some into vain arrogance, and others into despondency or envy. Hence he every where takes along with him this idea of the body. Hence it is that now also he has proposed it, inasmuch as he was about to make mention of these diversities of gifts. He enters indeed into the subject more fully in the Epistle to the Corinthians, because it was among them that this malady most especially reigned: here however he has only alluded to it. And mark what he says: he does not say, according to the faith of each, lest he should throw those who have no large attainments into despondency. But what saith he? According to the measure of the gift of Christ. The chief and principal points of all, he saith,—Baptism, the being saved by faith, the having God for our Father, our all partaking of the same Spirit,—these are common to all. If then this or that man possesses any superiority in any spiritual gift, grieve not at it; since his toil also is greater. He that had received the five talents, had five required of him; whilst he that had received the two, brought only two, and yet received no less a reward than the other. And therefore the Apostle here also encourages the hearer on the same ground.

Hence it is that even he himself saith, Woe is unto me, if I preach not the Gospel. For example: A man, suppose, has received the grace of Apostleship, but for this very reason, woe unto him, because he has received it: whereas thou art free from the danger.

What is meant by, according to the measure? It means, ‘not according to our merit,’ for then would no one have received what he has received: but of the free gift we have all received. And why then one more, and another less? There is nothing to cause this, he would say, but the matter itself is indifferent; for every one contributes towards the edifying. And by this too he shews, that it is not of his own intrinsic merit that one has received more and another less, but that it is for the sake of others, as God Himself hath measured it; since he saith also elsewhere, But now hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased Him.* And he mentions not the proportion, lest he should deject or dispirit the hearers.

As though he had said, Why art thou high-minded? The whole is of God. The Prophet saith in the Psalm, Thou hast received gifts among men, whereas the Apostle saith, He gave gifts unto men. The one is the same as the other. Of this kind also is the expression,

When thou hearest these words, think not of a mere departure; for what Paul establishes in the Epistle to the Philippians, that very argument is he also insisting upon here. In the same way as he there, exhorting them concerning lowliness, brings forward Christ as an example, so does he here also, saying, He descended into the lower parts of the earth.* For were not this so, this expression which he uses, He became obedient unto death,* were superfluous; whereas from His ascending, he implies His descent, and by the lower parts of the earth, he means ‘death,’ according to the notions of men; as Jacob also said, Then shall ye bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.* And again as it is in the Psalm, Lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit.* Why does he descant upon this region here? And of what captivity does he speak? Of that of the devil; for He took the tyrant captive, the devil, I mean, and death, and the curse, and sin. Behold His spoils and His trophies.

This strikes at Paul of Samosata and his school.

He descended, saith he, into the lower parts of the earth, beyond which there are none other: and He ascended up far above all things, to that place, beyond which there is none other. This is to shew His divine energy, and supreme dominion. For indeed even of old had all things been filled.

What he saith elsewhere, Wherefore also God hath highly exalted Him, that saith he also here. He that descended, is the same also that ascended. It did Him no injury that He came down into the lower parts of the earth, nor was it any hindrance to His becoming far higher than the Heavens. So that the more a man is humbled, so much the more is he exalted. For as in the case of water, the more a man presses it downwards, the more he forces it up; and the further a man retires to hurl a javelin, the surer his aim; so is it also with humility. However, when we speak of ascents with reference to God, we must needs conceive a descent first; but when with reference to man, not at all so. Then he goes on to shew further His providential care, and His wisdom, and seems to say, “He who hath wrought such things as these, who had such might, and who refused not to go down even to those lower parts for our sakes, never would He have made these distributions of spiritual gifts without a purpose.” Now elsewhere he tells us that this was the work of the Spirit, in the words, Over whom the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers to feed the Church of the Lord.* And here he saith that it is the Son; and elsewhere that it is God. And again, He gave to the Church some Apostles, and some Prophets. But in the Epistle to the Corinthians, he saith, I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. And again, Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every one shall receive his own reward according to his own labour.* So is it also here: for what if thou bring in but little? Thou hast received thy certain portion. First, he says, Apostles; for these had all gifts; secondarily, Prophets, for there were some who were not indeed Apostles, but Prophets, as Agabus; thirdly, Evangelists, who did not go about every where, but only preached the Gospel, as Priscilla and Aquila; Pastors and Teachers, those who were entrusted with the charge of a whole nation. What then? are the pastors and the teachers inferior? Yes, surely; those who were settled and employed about one spot, as Timothy and Titus, were inferior to those who went about the world and preached the Gospel. However, it is not possible from this passage to frame the subordination and precedence, but from another Epistle. He gave, saith he; thou must not say a word to gainsay it. Or perhaps by evangelists he means those who wrote the Gospel.

Perceive ye the value and dignity of the office? Each one edifies, each one perfects, each one ministers.

By stature here he means perfect knowledge; for as a man will stand firmly, whereas children are carried about and waver in mind, so is it also with the faithful.

That is, until we shall be shewn to have all one faith: for this is unity of faith, when we shall all be one, when we shall all alike acknowledge the common bond. Till then thou must labour to this end, if for this thou hast received a gift, that thou mightest edify others. Look well that thou overturn not thyself, by envying another. God hath honoured thee, and ordained thee, that thou shouldest build up another. Yea, for about this was the Apostle also engaged; and in this work was the prophet prophesying and persuading, and the Evangelist preaching the Gospel, and for this was the pastor and teacher; all had undertaken one common work. For tell me not of the difference of the spiritual gifts; all had one work. Now when we shall all alike believe, then shall there be unity; for that this is what he calls a perfect man, is plain. And yet he elsewhere calls us babes,* even when we are of mature age; but he is there looking to another comparison, for there it is in comparison with our future knowledge that he calls us babes. For having said, We know in part,* he adds also the word darkly, and the like: whereas here he speaks with reference to another thing, with reference to changeableness, as he saith also elsewhere, But strong meat is for them that are perfect, that is, of full age.* Ye see again in what sense he there calls them perfect; observe also in what sense he calls men perfect here, by the words next added, where he says, that we henceforth be no longer children. That we keep, he means to say, that little measure, which we may have received, with all diligence, with firmness and stedfastness.

The word, no longer, shews that they had of old been in this case, and he reckons himself moreover as a subject for correction, and corrects himself. For this cause, he would say, are there so many workmen, that the building may not be shaken, may not be carried about, that the stones may be firmly fixed. For this is the character of children, to be tossed to and fro, to be carried about and shaken. That we be no longer, saith he, children tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive. And carried about, saith he, with every wind. He carries out the figure of speech, to point out in how great peril doubting souls are. With every wind, saith he, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive. The word sleight means the art of gamesters.* Such are the crafty, whenever they lay hold on the simpler sort. For they also change and shift about every thing. He here glances also at human life.

He expresses himself with great obscurity, from his desire to utter every thing at once. What he means, however, is this. In the same way as the spirit, or vital principle, which descends from the brain, communicates the sensitive faculty which is conveyed through the nerves, not simply, and in the same measure to all the members, but according to the proportion of each member, to that which is capable of receiving more, more, to that which is capable of less, less, (for this is the root or source, viz. the spirit;) so also is Christ. For the souls of men being dependent upon Him as members, His provident care, and supply of the spiritual gifts according to a due proportion in the measure of every single member, effects their increase. But what is the meaning of this, by the supply of the touch? that is to say, by the sensitive faculty. For that spirit which is supplied to the members from the head,* touches, or communicates itself to, each single member, and thus actuates it. As though one should say, ‘the body receiving the supply according to the proportion of its several members, thus maketh the increase;’ or, in other words, ‘the members receiving the supply according to the proportion of their proper measure, thus make increase;’ or otherwise again thus, ‘the spirit flowing plenteously from above,* and communicating itself to all the members, and supplying them, as each is capable of receiving it, thus maketh increase.’ But wherefore doth he add, in love? Because in no other way is it possible for that Spirit to descend. For just as, should the hand happen to be torn from the body, the spirit which proceeds from the brain looks for the limb in coherence, and if it finds it not, does not issue forth from the body, and pass on and go out to the hand, but if it finds it not in its place, does not touch it; so also will it be here, if we be not bound together in love. All these expressions he uses as tending to humility. For what, he seems to say, if this or that man receives more than another? He has received the same Spirit, sent forth from the same Head, effectually working in all alike, communicating itself to all alike.

That is, having great care and pains bestowed upon it; for the body must not be laid any how, but with exceeding art and nicety, since if it gets out of place, it is no longer. Thus must each not only be united to the body, but also occupy his proper place, since if thou shalt transgress this, thou art not united to it, neither dost thou receive the Spirit. Dost thou not see, that in those dislocations of the bones which take place in any accident, when a bone gets out of its proper place and occupies that of another, how it injures the whole body, and oftentimes will produce death, and will occasionally be found to be no longer worth preserving? For many in many cases will cut it off, and leave a void in its place; because every where what is in excess is an evil. And so again with the elements, if they were to lose their proper proportion and be in excess, the whole system is impaired. This is the meaning of the being fitly joined together and compacted. Consider then of how vast importance it is, that each should remain in his own proper place, and not encroach on another wherewith he has no concern. Thou puttest the members together, He supplieth them from above. For as there are in the body such recipient organs, as we have seen, so is it also with the Spirit, the whole root or source being from above. As, for example, the heart is the recipient of the breath, the liver of the blood, the spleen of the bile, and the other organs, some of one thing, others of another, but all these have their source from the brain. So also hath God done, highly honouring man, and being unwilling to be far from him, He hath made Himself indeed the source of his dependence, but hath constituted fellow-workers with Himself; and some He hath appointed to one office, and others to another. For example, the Apostle is the most vital vessel of the whole body, receiving every thing from Him. Thus, He maketh eternal life to run throughout the body to all, as though through veins and arteries of the Word. The Prophet foretells things to come, whilst He alone ordereth the same; the Apostle, again, puts the bones indeed together, but He alone supplies them with life, for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry. Love builds up, and makes men cleave one to another, and be fastened and fitted together.

If therefore we desire to partake of that Spirit which is from the Head, let us cleave one to another. For there are two kinds of separation from the body of the Church; the one, when we wax cold in love, the other, when we dare to commit things unworthy of our belonging to that body; for in either way we cut ourselves off from the fulness of Christ. But if we are appointed to build up others also, what shall not be done to them, who not only build not, but are even first to make division? Nothing will so avail to divide the Church as love of authority. Nothing so provokes God’s anger as the division of the Church. Yea, though we have achieved ten thousand glorious acts, yet shall we, if we cut to pieces the fulness of the Church, suffer punishment no less sore than they who mangled His body. For that indeed was brought to pass for the benefit of the world, even though it was done with no such intention; whereas this produces no advantage in any case, but the injury is excessive. These remarks I am addressing not to the governors only, but also to the governed. Now a certain holy man said what might seem to be a bold thing; yet, nevertheless, he spoke it out. What then is this? He said, that not even the blood of martyrdom can wash out this sin. For tell me for what dost thou suffer as a martyr? Is it not for the glory of Christ? Thou then that yieldest up thy life for Christ’s sake, how dost thou lay waste the Church, for whose sake Christ yielded up His life? Hear what Paul saith, I am not worthy to be called an Apostle,* because I persecuted the Church of God and wasted it.* This injury is not less than that received at the hands of enemies, nay, it is far greater. For that indeed renders her even more glorious, whereas this, when she is warred upon by her own children, disgraces her even in the face of her enemies. Because it seems to them a great mark of hypocrisy, that those who have been born in her, and nurtured in her bosom, and have learned perfectly her secrets, that these should of a sudden change,* and do her enemies’ work.

Let these remarks be taken as addressed to those who give themselves indiscriminately to those who divide the Church. For if on the one hand those persons have doctrines also contrary to ours, then on that account further it is not right to mix with them: if, on the other hand, they hold the same opinions, the reason for not mixing with them is greater still. And why so? Because then the disease is from lust of authority. Know ye not what was the fate of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram? Of them only did I say? Was is not also of them that were with them? What wilt thou say? Shall it be said, Their faith is the same, they are orthodox as well as we? If so, why then are they not with us? There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism. If their cause is right, then is ours wrong; if ours is right, then is theirs wrong. Children, saith he, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind. Dost thou think this is enough, tell me, to say, that they are orthodox? Is then the appointment of clergy past and done away? And what is the advantage of all things else, if this be not strictly observed? For as we must needs contend for the faith, so must we for this also. For if it is lawful for any one, according to the phrase of them of old, to fill his hands, and to become a priest, let all approach to minister. In vain has this altar been raised, in vain the fulness of the Church built up, in vain the number of the priests. Let us annihilate them all, and destroy them. ‘God forbid!’ ye will say. How say ye, ‘God forbid,’ when the very things are taking place? I speak and testify, not looking to my own interest, but to your salvation. But if any one be indifferent, he must see to it himself: if these things are a care to no one else, yet are they a care to me. I planted, saith he, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase.* How shall we bear the ridicule of the Greeks? For if they reproach us on account of our heresies, what will they not say of these things? If they have the same doctrines, if the same mysteries, wherefore does a ruler in one Church invade another? ‘See ye,’ say they, ‘how all things amongst the Christians are full of vain-glory? And there is ambition among them, and hypocrisy.’ ‘Strip them,’ say they, ‘of their numbers, cut out the disease, the corrupt multitude, and they are nothing.’ Would ye have me tell what they say of our city, how they accuse us on the score of our easy compliances. Any one, say they, that chooses may find believers, he can never be at a loss for them. Oh, what a sneer is that, what a disgrace are these things! And yet the sneer is one thing, the disgrace is another. If any amongst us are convicted of deeds the most disgraceful, and are about to meet with some requital, great is the alarm, great is the fear on all sides, lest he should start away, people say, and join the other side. Yea, let such an one start away ten thousand times, and let him join them. And I speak not only of those who have sinned, but if there be any one free from imputation, and he has a mind to depart, let him depart. I am grieved indeed at it, and bewail, and lament it, and am cut to the very heart, as though I were being deprived of one of my own limbs; and yet am I not so grieved, as to be compelled to do any thing wrong through such fear as this. We have no dominion over your faith,* beloved, nor command we these things as your lords and masters. We are appointed for the teaching of the word, not for power, nor for absolute authority. We hold the place of counsellors to advise you. The counsellor speaks his own sentiments, not forcing the hearer, but leaving him full master of his choice upon what is said; in this case alone is he blameable, if he fail to utter the things which present themselves. For this cause also do we say these things, do we assert these things, that it may not be in your power in that day to say, ‘no one told us, no one explained it to us, we were ignorant, we thought it was no sin at all.’ Therefore I assert and protest, that to make a schism in the Church is no less an evil than to fall into heresy. Tell me, suppose a subject of some king, though he did not join himself to another king, nor lend himself to any other, yet should take and keep hold of his king’s royal purple, and should tear it all down from its clasp, and rend it into a number of shreds; would he suffer less punishment than those who join themselves to the service of another? And what, if withal he were to seize the king himself by the throat and slay him, and tear him limb from limb, what punishment could he undergo, that should be equal to his deserts? Now if in doing this towards a king his fellow-servant, he would be committing an act too great for any punishment to reach; of what hell shall not he be worthy who slays Christ, and plucks Him limb from limb? of this which is threatened? No, I think not, but of another far more dreadful.

Speak, ye women, that are present—for this generally is a failing of women—relate to them that are absent this similitude I have mentioned, startle them. If any think to grieve me and thus to have their revenge, let them be well aware that they do these things in vain. For if thou wouldest fain revenge thyself on us, I will give thee a method by which thou mayest take vengeance without injury to thyself; or rather without injury it is not possible to revenge thyself, but at all events with less injury. Buffet me, woman, spit upon me, when thou meetest me in the public way, and aim blows at me. Dost thou shudder at hearing this? When I bid thee buffet me, dost thou shudder, and dost thou tear thy Lord and Master without shuddering? Dost thou pluck asunder the limbs of thy Lord and Master, and yet tremblest not? The Church is our Father’s house. There is one body, and one Spirit. But wouldest thou fain revenge thyself on me? Yet stop at me. Why wreak it on Christ in my stead: nay, rather, why kick against the pricks? In no case indeed is revenge good and right, but to assault one when another has done the wrong is far worse. Are we they that have wronged you? Why then inflict pain on Him who hath not wronged you? This is the very extreme of madness. I speak not in irony what I am about to say, nor at random, but as I really think and as I feel. I would that every one of those who with you are exasperated against me, and who by this exasperation are injuring themselves, and departing elsewhere, would direct his blows at me in my very face, would strip me and scourge me, be his charge against me just or unjust, and let loose his wrath upon me, rather than that they should dare to commit what they now dare. If this were done, it were nothing; nothing, that a man who is a mere nothing and of no account whatever, should be so treated. And besides, I, the wronged and injured person, might call upon God, and He might forgive you your sins. Not because I have so great confidence; but because he who has been wronged, when he entreats for him who has done the wrong, gains great confidence. If one man sin against another, it is said, then shall they pray for him;* and if I were unable, I might seek for other holy men, and entreat them, and they might do it. But now whom shall we even entreat, when God is outraged by us.*

Mark the inconsistency; for of those who belong to this Church, some never approach to communicate at all, or but once in the year, and then carelessly, and just as it may happen; others more regularly indeed, yet they too carelessly, and conversing with indifference, and trifling about nothing: whilst those who, forsooth, seem to be in earnest, these are the very persons who work this mischief. Yet surely, if it is for these things ye are in earnest, it were better that ye also were in the ranks of the indifferent; or rather it were better still, that neither they should be indifferent, nor ye such as ye are. I speak not of you that are present, but of those who are deserting from us. The act is adultery. And if ye bear not to hear these things of them, neither should ye of us. There must be breach of the law either on the one side or the other. If then thou hast these suspicions concerning me, I am ready to retire from my office, and resign it to whomsoever ye may choose. Only let the Church be one. But if I have been lawfully made and consecrated, plead for the deposal of those who have contrary to the law mounted the episcopal throne.

These things I have said, not as dictating to you, but only to secure and protect you. Since every one of you is come to age, and will have to pay the penalty of the things which he has done, I entreat you not to cast the whole matter on us, and consider yourselves to be irresponsible, that ye may not go on fruitlessly deceiving yourselves, and at last bewail it. An account indeed we shall have to give of your souls; but it will be when we have been wanting on our part, when we fail to exhort, when we fail to admonish, when we fail to protest. But after these words, allow even me to say that I am pure from the blood of all men,* and that God will deliver my soul.* Say what ye will, give a just cause why ye depart, and I will answer you. But no, ye will not state it. Wherefore, I entreat you, endeavour henceforward both to establish yourselves firmly, and to bring back those who have seceded, that we may with one accord lift up thanksgiving to God; for to Him be the glory for ever and ever.

Homily XII

It is the duty of the teacher to restore and reestablish the souls of his disciples, not only by counselling and instructing them, but also by alarming them, and making them over to God. For when the words spoken by men as coming from fellow-servants are not sufficient to touch the soul, it then becomes necessary to make over the case to God. This accordingly Paul does also; for having discoursed concerning lowliness, and concerning unity, and concerning our duty not to rise up one against another, hear what he says. This I say therefore, and testify in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not as other Gentiles walk. He does not say, ‘That ye henceforth walk not as ye are now walking,’ (for that expression would have struck too hard.) But he plainly indicates the same thing, only he brings his example from others. And so in writing to the Thessalonians, he does this very same thing, where he says, Not in the lust of concupiscence, even as the other Gentiles.* Ye differ from them, he means to say, in doctrine, but that is wholly God’s work: but I require on your part, the life and the course of behaviour that is after God. This is your own. And I call the Lord to witness what I have said, that I have not shrunk, but have told you how ye ought to walk.

In the vanity, saith he, of their mind.

What is vanity of mind? It is the being busied about vain things. And what are those vain things, but all things in the present life? Of which the Preacher saith, Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.* But a man will say, If they be vain and vanity, wherefore were they made? If they are God’s works, how are they vain? And great is the dispute concerning these things. But hearken, beloved: it is not the works of God which he calls vain; God forbid! The Heaven is not vain, the earth is not vain,—God forbid!—nor the sun, nor the moon and stars, nor our own body. No, all these are very good.* But what is vain? Let us hear the Preacher himself, what he saith; I planted me vineyards, I gat me singing men and singing women, I made me pools of water, I had flocks and herds, I gathered me silver and gold, and I saw that these are vanity.* And again, Vanity of vanities, all things are vanity.* Hear also what the Prophet saith, He heapeth up riches, and knoweth not for whom he shall gather them.* Such is vanity of vanities, your splendid buildings, your vast and overflowing riches, the herds of slaves that bustle along the public square, your pomp, and vainglory, your high thoughts, and your ostentation. For all these are vain; they came not from the hand of God, but are of our own creating. But why then are they vain? Because they have no useful end. Riches are vain when they are spent upon luxury; but they cease to be vain when they are dispersed abroad amongst the poor.* But when thou hast spent them upon luxury, let us look at the end of them, what it is;—grossness of body, flatulence, pantings, fulness of belly, heaviness of head, softness of flesh, feverishness, enervation; for as a man who shall draw into a leaking vessel labours in vain, so also does the self-indulgent liver; he draws into a leaking vessel. But again, that is called ‘vain,’ which is expected indeed to possess value, yet possesses it not;—that which men call empty, as when they speak of “empty hopes,” and that which is fruitless. And generally that is called ‘vain,’ which is of no use. Let us see then whether all human things are not of this sort. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.* What then, tell me, is the end? Corruption. Let us put on clothing and raiment. And what is the result? Nothing. Thus did some of the Greeks philosophize, but in vain. They made a shew of a life of hardship, but of mere hardship, not looking to any beneficial end, but to vain-glory, and to the honour of the many. But what is the honour of the many? It is nothing, for if they themselves which render the honour perish, much more does the honour. He that renders honour to another, ought first to render himself honoured; for if he gain not honour for himself, how can he ever render it to another? Whereas now we seek even honours from vile and despicable characters, themselves dishonourable, and objects of reproach. What kind of honour then is this? Perceive ye, how that all things are vanity of vanities? Therefore, saith he, in the vanity of their mind.

But further, is not their religion of this sort? Are not wood and stone the objects which they worship? He hath made the sun to shine for a lamp to light us. Who will worship his own lamp? The sun supplies us with light, but where he cannot, a lamp can do it. Then why not worship thy lamp? ‘Nay,’ one will say, ‘I worship the fire.’ Oh, how ridiculous! Is the disgrace so great, and yet art thou not ashamed of it? For look again at another absurdity. Why extinguish the object of thy worship? Why destroy, why annihilate thy god? Wherefore dost thou not suffer thy house to be filled with him? For if the fire be god, let him feed upon thy body. Put not thy god under the bottom of thy kettle, or thy cauldron. Bring him into thy inner chambers, bring him within thy silken draperies. Whereas not only dost thou not bring him in, but if by any accident he has found entrance, thou drivest him out in all quarters, thou callest all around together, and, as though some wild beast had entered, thou weepest and wailest, and callest the presence of thy god an overwhelming calamity. I have a God, and I do all I can to enshrine Him in my bosom, and I deem it my true bliss, not when He visits my dwelling only, but when I can draw Him even to my heart. Do thou too draw the fire to thine heart. Folly this and vanity. Fire is good for use, not for adoration; good for ministration and for service, to be my slave, not to be my master. It was made for my sake, not I for it. If thou art a worshipper of fire, why recline upon thy couch thyself, and order thy cook to stand before thy god? Take up the art of cookery thyself, become a baker if thou wilt, or a coppersmith, for nothing can be more honourable than these arts, since these are they that thy god visits. Why deem that art a disgrace, where thy god is all in all? Why commit it to thy slaves, and not be ambitious of it thyself. Fire is good, inasmuch as it is the work of a good Creator, but it is not God. It is the work of God, not God. Seest thou not how ungovernable is its nature;—how when it lays hold on a building it knows not where to stop? But if it seizes any thing continuous, it destroys all; and, except the hands of workmen or others quench its fury, it knows not friends nor foes, but deals with all alike. Is this then your god, and are ye not ashamed? Well indeed does he say, in the vanity of their mind.

But the sun, they say, is God. Tell me, how and wherefore. Is it that he sheds abundance of light? Yet dost thou not see him overcome by clouds, and in bondage to the necessity of nature, and eclipsed, and hidden by moon and cloud? And yet the cloud is weaker than the sun; but still it often gains the mastery of him. And this indeed is the work of God’s wisdom. God must needs be all sufficient: the sun needs many things; and this is not like a god. For he requires air to shine in, and that, too, pure and thin air; since the air, when it is greatly condensed, suffers not the rays to pass through it. He requires also water, and other restraining power, to prevent him from consuming. For were it not that fountains, and lakes, and rivers, and seas, formed some moisture by the emission of their vapours, there would be nothing to prevent an universal conflagration. Dost thou see then, say ye, that he is a god? What folly, what madness! A god, say ye, because he has power to do harm? Nay, rather, for this very reason is he no god, because where he does harm he needs nothing; whereas, where he does good, he requires many things besides. Now to do harm, is foreign to God’s nature; to do good, is His property. Where then the reverse is the case, how can he be God? Seest not that poisonous drugs injure, and need nothing; but when they are to do good, need many things? For thy sake then is he such as he is, both good, and powerless; good, that thou mayest acknowledge his Lord and Master; and powerless, that thou mayest not say that he is lord and master. ‘But,’ say they, ‘he nourishes the plants and the seeds.’ What then, at that rate is not the very dung a god? for even that also nourishes. And why not at that rate the scythe as well, and the hands of the husbandman? Prove to me that the sun alone nourishes, and needs nothing, neither earth, nor water, nor tillage; but let the seeds be sown, and let him shed forth his rays, and produce the ears of corn. But now if this work be not his alone, but that of the rains also, wherefore is not the water a god also? But of this I speak not yet. Why is not the earth too a god, and why not the dung, and the spade? Shall we then, tell me, worship all? Alas, what trifling! And indeed rather might the ear of corn be produced without sun, than without earth and water; and so with plants and all other things. Were there no earth, none of these things could ever appear. And if any one, as children and women do, were to put some earth into a pot, and to fill up the pot with a quantity of dung, and to place it under the roof, plants, though they may be weak ones, will be produced from it. So that the contribution of the earth and of the dung is greater, and these therefore we ought to worship rather than the sun. He requires the sky, he requires the air, he requires these waters, to prevent his doing harm, to be as bridles to curb the fierceness of his power, and to restrain him from letting loose his rays over the world, like a furious horse. And now tell me, where is this our god at night? Whither has he taken his departure? For this is not like a god, to be circumscribed and limited. This is in fact the property of bodies only. But, say they, there is moreover a certain power residing in him, and he has motion. Is this power then, I pray you, itself God? Why then is it insufficient in itself, and why does it not restrain the fire? For again, I come to the same argument. But what is that power? Is it productive of light, or does it by the sun give light, though of itself possessing none of these qualities? If so, then is the sun superior to it. How far shall we unwind this maze?

Again, what is water? is not that too, they say, a god? This again is a matter of truly absurd disputation. Is that not a god, they say, which we make use of for so many purposes? And so again in like manner of the earth. Truly is this in the vanity of their mind, having their understanding darkened.

But these words he is now using concerning life and conduct. The Greeks are fornicators, and adulterers. Of course. They who paint to themselves such gods as these, will have all their works consistent; and if they can but escape the eyes of men, there is no one to restrain them. For what will avail the argument of a resurrection, if it appear to them a mere fable? Yea, and what that of the torments of hell:—they too are but a fable. And mark the Satanic notion. When they are told of gods who are fornicators, they deny that these are fables, but believe them. Yet whenever any shall discourse to them of punishment, ‘these,’ they say, ‘are poets, men who turn every thing into fable, that man’s happy condition may be on all sides overturned.’

But the philosophers, it is said, discovered something truly grand, and far better than these. How? They who introduced fate, and who tell us that nothing is providential, and that there is no one to care for any thing, but that all things consist of atoms? Or, others again who say that God is a body? or who, tell me, are they? Are they those who would turn the souls of men into those of dogs, and would persuade mankind that one was once a dog, and a lion, and a fish? How long will ye go on and never cease trifling, having the understanding darkened? for they say and do all things as though they were in the dark, both in those things which concern doctrine, and those which concern life and conduct; for the man who is in darkness sees none of the things which lie before him, but oftentimes when he sees a rope, he will take it for a live serpent; or again, if he is caught by a hedge, he will think that a man or an evil spirit has hold of him, and great is the alarm, and great the perturbation. Such as these are the things they fear. They were afraid, it saith, where no fear was;* but the things which they ought to fear, these they fear not. But just as children in their nurses’ arms thrust their hands incautiously into the fire, and boldly into the candle also, and yet are scared at a man clothed in sackcloth; just so these Greeks, as if they were really always children, (as some one also amongst themselves has said, the Greeks are always children,) fear those that are no sins, such as filthiness of the body, the pollution of a funeral, a bed, or the keeping of days, and the like: whereas those which are really sins, unnatural lust, adultery, fornication, of these they make no account at all. No, you may see a man washing himself from the pollution of a dead body, but from dead works, never; and, again, spending much zeal in the pursuit of riches, and yet supposing the whole is undone by the crowing of a single cock. So darkened are they in their understanding. Their soul is filled with all sorts of terrors. For instance: ‘Such a person,’ one will say, ‘was the first who met me, as I was going out of the house;’ of course ten thousand evils must certainly ensue. At another time, ‘the wretch of a servant in giving me my shoes, held out the left shoe first,’—terrible mishaps and mischiefs! ‘I myself in coming out set forth with the left foot foremost;’ and this too is a token of misfortune. And these are the evils in the house. Then, as I go out, my right eye shoots up from beneath. This is a sure sign of tears. Again the women, when the reeds strike against the standards, and ring, or when they themselves are scratched by the shuttle, turn this also into a sign. And again, when they strike the web with the shuttle, and do it with some vehemence, and then the reeds on the top from the intensity of the blow strike against the standards and ring, this again they make a sign, and ten thousand things besides as ridiculous. And so if an ass should bray, or a cock should crow, or a man should sneeze, or whatever else may happen, like men bound with ten thousand claims, as I was saying, like men confined in the dark, they suspect every thing, and are more slavish than all the slaves in the world.

But let it not be so with us. But scorning all these things, as men living in the light, and having our conversation in Heaven, and having nothing in common with earth, let us regard but one thing as terrible, that is, sin, and offending against God. And if there be not this, let us scorn all the rest, and him that brought them in, the Devil. And now for these things let us give thanks to God. Let us be diligent, not only that we ourselves be never caught by this slavery, but if any of those who are dear to us have been caught, let us break his bonds asunder, let us release him from this most bitter and contemptible captivity, let us make him free and unshackled for his course toward Heaven, let us raise up his flagging wings, and teach him to be wise for life and doctrine’s sake. Let us give thanks to God for all things. Let us beseech Him that we be not found unworthy of the gifts bestowed upon us, and let us ourselves withal endeavour to contribute our own part, that we may teach not only by speaking, but by acting also. For thus shall we be able to attain His unnumbered blessings, which God grant we may all attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father and the Holy Ghost together, be glory, might, and honour, now, henceforth, and for ever and ever.

Homily XIII

These words are not addressed to the Ephesians only, but are now addressed also to you; and that, not from me, but from Paul; or rather, neither from me nor from Paul, but from the grace of the Spirit. And we then ought so to feel, as though that grace itself were uttering them. And now hear what he saith. This I say therefore, and testify in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not as other Gentiles walk, in the vanity of their mind, having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart. If then it is ignorance, if it is blindness, why blame it? if a man is ignorant, it were just, not that he should be ill-treated for it, nor be blamed, but that he should be informed of those things, of which he is ignorant. But mark how at once he cuts them off from all excuse. Who being past feeling, saith he, have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness; but ye have not so learned Christ. Here he shews us, that the cause of their blindness was their way of life, and that their life was the consequence of their own indolence and want of feeling.

Who being past feeling, saith he, have given themselves over.

Whenever then ye hear, that God gave them over to a reprobate mind,* remember this expression, that they gave themselves over. If then they gave themselves over, how did God give them over? and if again God gave them over, how did they give themselves over? Thou seest the seeming contradiction. The word, gave them over, then, means this, He permitted them to be given over. Seest thou, that where the life is impure, there is also ground for like doctrines? Every one, saith the Lord, that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light.* For how possibly could a profligate man, one more immersed in indiscriminate lust than the swine that wallow in the mire, and who is a lover of money, and has not so much as any desire after temperance, enter upon a life like this? They made the thing, saith he, their work. Hence their blindness, hence the darkness of their understanding.* There is such a thing as being dark, even while the light is shining, when the eyes are weak; and weak they become, either by the influx of ill humours, or by superabundance of rheum. And so surely is it also here; when the strong current of the affairs of this life overwhelms the perceptive power of the understanding, it is thrown into a state of darkness. And in the same way as if we were placed in the depths under water, we should be unable to see the sun through the quantity of water lying, like a sort of barrier, above us, so, surely, in the eyes of the understanding also a blindness of the heart takes place, whenever there is no fear to agitate the soul. There is no fear of God, it saith, before their eyes;* and again, The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.* Now blindness arises from no other cause than from want of feeling; this clogs the channels; for whenever the fluids are curdled and collected into one place, the limb becomes dead and void of feeling; and though thou burn it, or cut it, or do what thou wilt with it, still it feels not. So is it also with those persons, when they have once given themselves over to lasciviousness: though thou apply the word to them like fire, or steel, yet nothing touches, nothing reaches them; their limb is utterly dead. And unless thou canst restore the feeling, so as to touch the healthy members, every thing thou doest is vain.

With greediness, saith he.

Here he has most completely taken away their excuse; for it was in their power, if at least they chose it, not to be greedy, nor to be lascivious, nor gluttonous, nor indulgent to their appetites. It was in their power to partake in moderation of riches; it was in their power to partake even of pleasure and of luxury; but when they indulged the thing immoderately, they destroyed all.

To work uncleanness, saith he.

Ye see how he strips them of all excuse by speaking of working uncleanness. They did not sin, he means, by making a false step, but their work was these horrid deeds, and they used premeditation in the work. All uncleanness; uncleanness is all adultery, fornication, unnatural lust, envy, every kind of profligacy and lasciviousness.

Ver. 20, 21. But ye have not so learned Christ, he continues, if so be that ye have heard Him, and been taught by Him, as the truth is in Jesus.

The expression, If so be that ye have heard Him, is not that of one doubting, but of one even strongly affirming: as he also speaks elsewhere, If indeed it is a righteous thing with God to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you.* That is to say, It was not for these purposes that ye learned Christ, if so be ye have heard Him, and been taught by Him, as the truth is in Jesus.

Ver. 22. That ye put off, concerning the former conversation, the old man.

This then surely is to learn Christ, to live rightly; for he that lives wickedly knows not God, neither is known of Him; for hear what he saith elsewhere, They profess that they know God, but in works they deny Him.*

As the truth is in Jesus; that ye put off, concerning the former conversation, the old man.

That is to say, It was not on these terms that thou enteredst into covenant. What is found among us is not vanity, but truth. As the doctrines are true, so is the life also. Sin is vanity and falsehood; but a right life is truth, for it has also a great end; whereas profligacy ends in nothing.

Which is corrupt, saith he, according to his deceitful lusts. As his lusts are corrupt, so is himself also. How then do his lusts become corrupt? By death all things are dissolved; for hear the Prophet, how he saith, In that day shall all his thoughts perish.* And not by death only, but by many things besides; for instance, beauty, at the advance of either disease or old age, withdraws, and dies away, and suffers corruption. Bodily vigour again is destroyed by the same means; nor does luxury itself afford the same pleasure in old age, as is evident from Barzillai: the history, no doubt, ye know. Or again in another sense, lust corrupts and destroys the old man; for as wool is destroyed by the very same means by which it is produced, so likewise is the old man. For love of glory destroys him, and pleasures will often destroy him, and lust will utterly deceive him. For this is not really pleasure, but bitterness and deceit, all pretence and outward show. The surface, indeed, of the things is bright, but the things themselves are only full of misery and extreme wretchedness, and loathsomeness, and utter poverty. Take off the mask, and lay bare the true face, and thou shalt see the cheat, for cheat it is, when that which is appears not, and that which is not true is displayed. And it is thus that impositions are effected.

He here then delineates for us a fourfold man. Of these, if ye will, I shall give an explanation. In this place, he mentions two, speaking thus, Putting off the old man, be ye renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new man. And in the Epistle to the Romans, two more, as where he saith, But I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.* And these latter bear affinity to those former two, the inner man* to the new man, and the outer man to the old man.* However, three of these four were subject to corruption. Or rather there are three even now, the new man, the old, and this, which ye see, man in his substance and nature.*

Ver. 23. And be ye renewed, saith he, in the spirit of your mind.

In order that no one may suppose that, whereas he speaks of old and new, he is introducing a different person, observe his expression, Be ye renewed. To be renewed is, when the self-same thing which has grown old is renewed, changed from one thing into the other. So that the subject indeed is the same, but the change in that which is accidental. Just as the body indeed is the same, and the change in that which is accidental, so is it here. How then is the renewal to take place? In the spirit of your mind, saith he. Whosoever therefore shall retain an old deed, will effect nothing, for the Spirit will not endure old deeds. In the spirit, saith he, of your mind, that is, in the spirit which is in your mind.

Ver. 24. And put on the new man.

Seest thou that the subject is one, but the clothing is twofold, that which is put off, and that which is put on? The new man, he continues, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. Now wherefore does he call virtue a man? And wherefore vice, a man? Because a man cannot be shewn without acting; so that these things, no less than nature, shew a man, whether he be good or evil. Now as to undress one’s self is easy, so may we see it is with virtue and vice. The young man is strong; wherefore let us also become strong for the performance of good actions. The young man has no wrinkle, therefore neither should we have. The young man wavers not, nor is he easily taken with diseases, therefore neither should we be.

That is created.

Observe here how he calls this realizing of virtue,* the bringing of it into being from nothing, a creation. But what? was not that other former creation after God? No, in no wise, but after the devil. He is the sole creator of sin.

How is this? For man is created henceforth, not of water, nor of earth, but in righteousness and true holiness. What is this? He straightway created him, he means, to be a son: for this takes place from Baptism. This it is which is the reality.* Well does he say, in righteousness and true holiness. There was of old a righteousness, there was likewise a holiness with the Jews. Yet was that righteousness not in truth, but in figure. For the being clean in body was a type of purity, not the truth of purity; was a type of righteousness, not the truth of righteousness. In righteousness, saith he, and holiness, which are of the truth.

Perhaps, however, this expression is used with reference to falsehood; for many there are, who amongst them that are without, seem to be righteous, yet are false. Now by righteousness is meant universal virtue. For hearken to Christ, how He saith, Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of Heaven.* And again, he is called righteous, who has no charge against him; for so even in courts of justice we say that that man is righteous, who has been unrighteously treated, and has not done unrighteously in return. If therefore we also before the terrible Tribunal shall be able to appear righteous one towards another, we may meet with some loving-kindness. Toward God indeed it is impossible we should appear so, whatever we may have to shew. For every where He overcometh in what is righteous, as the Prophet also saith, And Thou shalt overcome, when Thou art judged.* But if towards another we violate not what is righteous, then shall we be righteous. If we shall be able to shew that we have been treated unrighteously, then shall we be righteous.

How does he say to them who are already clothed, put on? He is now speaking of that clothing which is from life and good works. Before, the clothing was from Baptism, whereas now it is from conversation, and from works; no longer, according to the deceitful lusts, but, after God. But what means the word holy?* It is that which is clear, that which is due;* hence also we use the word of the last duty in the case of the departed, as much as to say, ‘I owe them nothing further, I have nothing else to answer for.’ Thus it is usual for us to say,* ‘I am holy or clear,’ and the like, meaning, ‘I owe nothing more.’

Let us strip ourselves of our riches, that we be not stripped of our righteousness. The outer garb of wealth mars this inner garment. It is a robe of thorns. Thorns are of this nature; the more closely they are wrapped around us, the more naked are we made. Lasciviousness strips us of this garment; for it is a fire, and the fire will consume this garment. Wealth is a moth; and as the moth eats through all things alike, and spares not even silken garments, so does this also. All these therefore let us put off, that we may be made righteous,* that we may put on the new man. Let us keep nothing old, nothing outward, nothing that is corrupt. Virtue is not toilsome, she is not difficult to attain. Dost thou not see them that are in the mountains? They forsake both houses,* and wives, and children, and all preeminence, and shut themselves away from the world, and clothe themselves in sackcloth, and strew ashes beneath them; they wear collars hung about their necks, and have pent themselves up in a narrow cell. Nor do they stop here, but torture themselves with fastings and continual hunger. Did I now enjoin you to do the like, would ye not all start away? Would ye not say, it is intolerable? But no, I say not that we must needs do any thing like this:—I would fain indeed that it were so, still I lay down no law. What then? Enjoy thy baths, pamper thy body, and throw thyself freely into the world, and keep a household, have thy servants to wait on thee, and make free use of thy meats and drinks! Drive out excess at every outlet, for that it is which causes sin, and the same thing, whatever it be, if it becomes excessive, becomes a sin; so that excess is none other than sin. For observe, when anger is excited above what is meet, then it rushes out into insult, then it commits every sort of injury; so does inordinate passion for beauty, for riches, for glory, or for any thing else. And tell me not, that indeed, those of whom I spoke were strong; for many far weaker and richer, and more luxurious than thou art, have taken upon them that austere and rugged life. And why speak I of men? Damsels not yet twenty years old, who have spent their whole time in inner chambers, and have been nurtured in the shade, in inner chambers full of sweet ointments and perfumes, reclining on soft tapestry, themselves soft in their nature, and rendered yet more tender by their over indulgence, who all the day long have had no other business than to adorn themselves, to wear jewels, and to enjoy every luxury, who never waited on themselves, but had numerous handmaids to stand beside them, who wore soft raiment softer than their skin, fine linen and delicate, who revelled continually in roses and such like sweet odours,—yea, these in a moment, seized with Christ’s flame, have put off all that indolence and pride, have forgotten their delicateness and youth, and like so many noble wrestlers, have stripped themselves of that soft clothing, and rushed into the midst of the contest. And perhaps I shall appear to be telling things incredible, yet nevertheless are they true. These then, these very tender damsels, as I have heard, have brought themselves to so great hardness of living, that they will wrap the coarsest horsehair about their own naked bodies, and go with those tender soles unsandaled, and will lie upon a bed of leaves: nay more, that they watch the greater part of the night, and that they take no heed of perfumes nor of any other of their old delights, but will even let their head, once so carefully dressed, go dishevelled, with the hair just plainly and carelessly bound up, so as not to fall into unseemliness. And their only meal is in the evening, a meal not even of herbs nor of bread, but of flour and beans and vetches and olives and figs. They spin without intermission, and labour far harder than their handmaids at home. What more? they will take upon them to wait upon women who are sick, carrying their beds, and washing their feet. Nay, many of them even dress victuals. So great is the power of the flame of Christ; so far does their zeal surpass their very nature.

However, I demand nothing like this of you, seeing ye have a mind to be outstripped by women. Yet at least, if there be any tasks not too laborious, at least perform these: restrain the rude hand, and the incontinent eye. What is there, tell me, so hard, what so difficult? Do what is just and right, wrong no man, be ye poor or rich, shopkeepers or hired servants; for unrighteousness may extend even to the poor. Or see ye not how many broils these engage in, and turn all things upside down? Marry freely, and have children. Paul also gave charge to such, it was to such that he wrote. Is that struggle I spoke of too great, and the rock too lofty, and its top too nigh unto Heaven, and art thou unable to attain to such an height? At least then lay hold on lesser things, and aim at those which are lower. Hast thou not courage to get rid of thine own riches? At least then forbear to seize on the things of others, and to do them wrong. Art thou unable to fast? At least then give not thyself out to self-indulgence. Art thou unable to lie upon a bed of leaves? Still, prepare not couches inlaid with silver; but use a couch and coverings formed not for display, but for refreshment; not couches of ivory. Make thyself small. Why fill thy vessel with overwhelming cargoes? Be lightly equipped, and thou shalt have nothing to fear, no envy, no robbers, no liers in wait. For indeed thou art not so rich in money as thou art in cares. Thou aboundest not so much in possessions, as in anxieties and in perils. They that will be rich, saith he, bring upon themselves temptations, and hurtful lusts.* These things they endure, who desire to gain great possessions. I say not, minister unto the sick; yet, at least, bid thy servant do it. Seest thou then how that this is no toilsome task? No, for how can it be, when tender damsels leave us at so vast a distance behind. Let us be ashamed of ourselves, I entreat you; for in worldly matters, we in no point yield to them, neither in wars, nor in games; but in the spiritual contest they get the advantage of us, and are the first to seize the prize, and soar higher, like so many eagles: whilst we, like jackdaws, are ever living in the rank steam and smoke; for truly is it the business of jackdaws, and of greedy dogs, to be setting one’s thoughts upon caterers and cooks. Hearken about the women of old; they were great characters, great women and admirable; such were Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Deborah, and Hannah; and such there were also in the days of Christ. Yet did they in no case outstrip the men, but occupied the second rank. But now it is the very contrary; women outstrip and eclipse us. How contemptible! What a shame is this! We hold the place of the head, and are surpassed by the body. We are ordained to rule over them; not merely that we may rule, but that we may rule in goodness also; for he that ruleth, ought especially to rule in this respect, by excelling in virtue; whereas if he is surpassed, he is no longer ruler. Perceive ye how great is the power of Christ’s coming? how He dissolved the curse? For indeed there are more virgins than before among women, more modesty in those virgins, more widows indeed. No woman would lightly utter so much as an unseemly word. Wherefore then, tell me, dost thou use filthy communication? For tell me not that they were virgins in despondency or despair.

The sex is fond of ornament, and it has this failing. Yet even in this ye husbands surpass them, who even pride yourselves upon them, as your own proper ornament; for I do not think that the wife is so ostentatious of her own jewels, as the husband is of those of his wife. He is not so proud of his own golden girdle, as he is of his wife’s wearing jewels of gold. So that even of this ye are the causes, who light the spark and kindle up the flame. But what is more, it is not so great a sin in a woman as in a man. Thou art ordained to regulate her; in every way thou claimest to have the preeminence. Shew her then in this also, that thou takest no interest in this costliness of hers, by thine own apparel. It is more becoming for a woman to adorn herself, than for a man. If then thou escape not the temptation, how shall she escape it? They have moreover their share of vain-glory, but this is common to them with men. They are in a measure passionate, and this again is common. But as to those things wherein they excel, these are no longer common; their sanctity, I mean, their fervency, their devotion, their love towards Christ. Wherefore then, one may say, did Paul exclude them from the teacher’s seat? And here again is a proof how great a distance they were from the men, and that the women of those days were great. For, tell me, while Paul were teaching, or Peter, or those saints of old, had it been right that a woman should intrude into the office? Whereas we have gone on till we have come so debased, that it is worthy of question, why women are not teachers. So truly have we come to the same weakness as they. These things I have said not from any desire to elate them, but to shame ourselves, to chastise, and to admonish us, that so we may resume the authority that belongs to us, not inasmuch as we are greater in size, but because of our foresight, our protection of them, and our virtue. For thus shall the body also be in the order which befits it, when it has the best head to rule. And God grant that all, both wives and husbands, may live according to His good pleasure, that we may all in that terrible day be counted worthy to partake of the loving-kindness of our Master, and to attain those good things which are promised in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Homily XIV

Having spoken of the old man generally, he next draws him also in detail; for this kind of teaching, where we learn by particulars, is more instructive. And what saith he? Wherefore, putting away lying. What sort of lying? Idols does he mean? Surely not; not indeed but that they are ‘lies’ also. However, he is not now speaking of them, because these persons had nothing to do with them; but he is speaking of that which passes between one man and another, meaning, that which is guileful and hollow. Speak every man, saith he, truth with his neighbour; then what is more touching to the conscience still; because we are members one of another, let no man deceive his neighbour. As the Psalmist says here and there; With flattering lips and a double heart do they speak.* For there is nothing, no, nothing so productive of enmity as deceit and guile.

Observe how every where he shames them by this similitude of the body. Let not the eye, saith he, lie to the foot, nor the foot to the eye. For example, if there shall be a deep pit, and then by having reeds laid across upon the mouth of it upon the earth, it shall on the surface present to the eye an appearance of solid ground, will not the eye use the foot, and discover whether it yields and is hollow underneath, or whether it is firm and resists? Will the foot tell a lie, and not report the truth as it is? And what again? If the eye were to spy a serpent or a wild beast, will it lie to the foot? Will it not at once inform it, and the foot thus informed by it refrain from going on? And what again, when neither the foot nor the eye shall know how to distinguish, but all shall depend upon the smelling, as, for example, whether a drug be deadly or not; will the smelling lie to the mouth? No. And why not? Because it will be destroying itself also. But it tells the truth as it appears to itself. And what again. Will the tongue lie to the stomach? Does it not, when a thing is bitter, reject it, and, if it is sweet, pass it on? Observe ministration, and interchange of service; observe a provident care arising from truth, and, as one might say, spontaneously from the heart. So surely should it be with us also; let us not lie, since we are members one of another. This is a sure token of friendship; whereas the contrary is of enmity. What then, thou wilt ask, if a man shall use treachery against thee? Hearken to the truth. If he use treachery, he is not a member; whereas he saith, lie not towards the members.

Be ye angry, and sin not.

Observe his wisdom. He both speaks to prevent our sinning, and, if we do not listen, still does not forsake us; for he never suffers his spiritual yearnings to desert him. For just as the physician prescribes to the sick what he must do, and if he does not submit to it, still does not give him up notwithstanding, but proceeding to add what advice he can by persuasion, again goes on with the cure; so also does Paul. For he indeed who does otherwise, aims only at reputation, and is annoyed at being disregarded; whereas he who on all occasions aims at the recovery of the patient, has this single object in view, how he may restore the patient, and raise him up again. This then is what Paul is doing. He has said, Lie not. Yet if ever lying should produce anger, he goes on again to cure this also. For what saith he? Be ye angry, and sin not. It were good indeed never to be angry. Yet if ever any one should fall into passion, still let him not fall into so great a degree. For let not the sun, saith he, go down upon your wrath. Wouldest thou have thy fill of anger? One hour, or two, or three, is enough for thee; let not the sun depart, and leave you both at enmity. It was of God’s goodness that he rose; let him not depart, having shone on men unworthy of it. For if the Lord of His great goodness sent him, and hath Himself forgiven thee thy sins, and yet thou forgivest not thy neighbour, look, how great an evil is this! And there is yet another besides this. Blessed Paul dreads the night, lest overtaking in solitude him that is wronged, still burning with anger, it should again kindle up the fire. For as long as there are many things in the day-time to banish it, thou art free to indulge it; but as soon as ever the evening comes on, be reconciled, extinguish the evil whilst it is yet fresh; for should night overtake it, the morrow will not avail to extinguish the further evil which will have been collected in the night. Nay, even though thou shouldest cut off the greater portion, and yet not be able to eradicate the whole, it will again supply a part of what is left for the following night, to make the blaze more violent. And just as, should the sun be unable by the heat of the day to soften and disperse those particles of air, which have been formed during the night and condensed into cloud, they afford material for a tempest, night overtaking the remainder, and feeding it again with fresh vapours: so also is it in the case of anger.

Neither give place to the devil.

So then to be at war with one another, is to give place to the devil; for, whereas we had need to be all in close array, and to make our stand against him, we have relaxed our enmity against him, and are giving the signal for turning against each other; for never has the devil such place as in our enmities. Numberless are the evils thence produced. And as stones in a building, so long as they are closely fitted together and leave no interstice, will stand firm, while if there is but a single needle’s passage through, or a crevice no broader than a hair, this destroys and ruins all; so is it with us and the devil. So long indeed as we are closely set and compacted together, he cannot introduce one of his wiles; but the moment a gap is made, he rushes in like a torrent. In every case he needs only a beginning, and this is the thing which it is difficult to accomplish; but this done, he makes room on all sides himself. For henceforth he opens the ear to slanders, and they who speak lies are the more trusted: for they have enmity which plays the advocate, not truth which judges. And as, where friendship is, even those evils which are true appear false, so where there is enmity, even the false appear true. There is a different judgment, a different tribunal, which does not hear fairly, but with great bias and partiality. As, in a balance, if lead is cast into the scale, it will drag down the whole; so is it also here, only that the weight of enmity is far heavier than any lead. Wherefore, let us, I beseech you, do all we can to extinguish our enmities before the going down of the sun. For if you fail to master it on the very first day, both on the following, and oftentimes even for a year, you will be protracting it, and the enmity will thenceforward augment itself, and require nothing to aid it. For by causing us to suspect that words spoken in one sense were meant in another, and gestures also, and every thing, it infuriates and exasperates us, and makes us more distempered than madmen, not enduring either to utter a name, or to hear it, but saying every thing in invective and abuse. How then are we to allay this passion? How shall we extinguish the flame? By reflecting on our own sins, and how much we have to answer for to God; by reflecting that we are wreaking vengeance, not on an enemy, but on ourselves; by reflecting that we are delighting the devil, delighting our enemy, our real enemy, and that for him we are doing wrong to our own members. Wouldest thou be revengeful and be at enmity? Be at enmity, but be so with the devil, and not with a member of thine own. For this purpose it is that God hath armed us with anger, not that we should thrust the sword against our own bodies, but that we should plunge the whole blade in the devil’s breast. There bury the sword up to the hilt; yea, if thou wilt, hilt and all, and never draw it out again, but add yet another and another. And this we shall do by being merciful to ourselves, by being peaceably disposed one towards another. Perish money, perish glory and reputation; mine own member is dearer to me than them all. Thus let us say to ourselves; let us not do violence to our own nature to gain wealth, to obtain glory.

Ver. 28. Let him that stole, saith he, steal no more.

Seest thou what are the members of the old man? Falsehood, revenge, theft. Why said he not, let him that stole be punished, be tortured, be racked; but, let him steal no more?

But rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.

Where are they which are called pure, they that are full of all defilement,* and yet dare to give themselves a name like this? For it is possible, very possible, to put off the reproach, not only by ceasing from the sin, but by working some good thing also. Perceive ye how we ought to get quit of the sin? They stole. This is to commit the sin. They steal no more. This is not to do away the sin. But how shall they? If they labour, and charitably communicate to others, thus will they do away the sin. He does not simply desire that we should work, but so work as to labour, so as that we may communicate to others. For the thief indeed works, but it is that which is evil.

Ver. 29. Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth.

What is corrupt speech? That which is said elsewhere to be also idle, backbiting, filthy communication, jesting, foolish talking.* See ye how he is cutting up the very roots of anger? Lying, theft, unseasonable conversation. The words, however, Let him steal no more, he does not say so much excusing them, as to pacify the injured parties, and to recommend them to be content, if they never suffer the like again. And well too does he give advice concerning conversation, inasmuch as we shall pay the penalty, not for our deeds only, but also for our words.

But that which is good, he proceeds, for the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.

That is to say, What edifies thy neighbour, that only speak, not a word more. For to this end God gave thee a mouth and a tongue, that thou mightest give thanks to Him, that thou mightest build up thy neighbour. So that if thou destroy that building, better were it to be silent, and never to speak at all. For indeed the hands of the workmen, if instead of raising the walls, they should learn to pull them down, would justly deserve to be cut off. For so also saith the Psalmist; The Lord shall root out all deceitful lips.* The mouth,—this is the cause of all evil; or rather not the mouth, but they that make an evil use of it. From thence proceed insults, revilings, blasphemies, incentives to lust, murders, adulteries, thefts, all have their origin from this. And how, you will say, do murders? Because from insult thou wilt go on to anger, from anger to blows, from blows to murder. And how, again, adultery? Such a woman, one will say, loves thee, she spoke a kind word about thee. He at once unstrings thy firmness, and thus are thy passions kindled within thee.

Therefore Paul said, that which is good. Since then there is so vast a flow of words, he with good reason speaks indefinitely, charging us to use expressions of that kind, and giving us a pattern of communication. What then is this? By saying, That which edifieth, either he means this, that he who hears thee may be grateful to thee: as, for instance, a brother has committed fornication; do not make a display of the offence, nor revel in it; thou wilt be doing no good to him that hears thee; rather, it is likely, thou wilt hurt him, by giving him a spur. Whereas, advise him what to do, and thou art conferring on him a great obligation. Discipline him how to keep silence, teach him to revile no man, and thou hast taught him his best lesson, thou wilt have conferred upon him the highest obligation. Discourse with him on contrition, on piety, on almsgiving; all these things will soften his soul, for all these things he will own his obligation. Whereas by exciting his laughter, or by filthy communication, thou wilt rather be inflaming him. Applaud the wickedness, and thou wilt overturn and ruin him. Such then one may say is his meaning.

Or else he means thus, ‘that it may make them, the hearers, full of grace.’ For as sweet ointment gives grace to them that partake of it, so also does good speech. Hence it was moreover that one said, Thy name is as ointment poured forth.* It caused them to exhale that sweet perfume. Thou seest that what he is continually recommending, he is saying now also, charging every one according to his several ability to edify his neighbours. Thou then that givest such advice to others, how much more to thyself!

Ver. 30. And grieve not, he adds, the Holy Spirit of God.

A matter this more terrible and startling, as he also says in the Epistle to the Thessalonians; for there too he uses an expression of this sort. He that despiseth, despiseth not man, but God.* So also here. If thou utter a reproachful word, if thou strike thy brother, thou art not striking him, thou art grieving the Holy Spirit. And then is added further the benefit bestowed, in order to heighten the rebuke.

And grieve not the Holy Spirit, saith he, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption.

He it is who marks us as a royal flock; He, who separates us from all former things; He, who suffers us not to lie amongst them that are exposed to the wrath of God,—and dost thou grieve Him? Look how startling are his words there; For he that despiseth, saith he, despiseth not man, but God: and how cutting they are here, Grieve not the Holy Spirit, saith he, whereby ye are sealed.

Thou hast a mouth that hath the Spirit. Think what thou art saying, the moment thou givest birth to a word,—what words beseem a mouth like thine! Thou callest God, Father, and dost thou straightway revile thy brother? Think, whence is it thou callest God, Father? Is it from nature? No, thou couldest never say so. Is it from thy goodness? No, nor is it thus. But whence then is it? It is from pure loving-kindness, from tenderness, from His great mercy. Whenever then thou callest God, Father, consider not only this, that by reviling thou art committing things unworthy of that thy high birth, but also that it is of loving-kindness that thou hast that high birth. Disgrace it not then, after receiving it from pure loving-kindness, by shewing cruelty towards thy brethren. Dost thou call God, Father, and yet revile? No, these are not the works of the Son of God. The work of the Son of God was to forgive His enemies, to pray for them that crucified Him, to shed His blood for them that hated Him. These are works worthy of the Son of God, to make His enemies,—the ungrateful, the dishonest, the reckless, the treacherous,—to make these brethren and heirs: not to treat them that are become brethren, with ignominy like slaves.

Think what words thy mouth utters, to what a table do they belong! Think what it touches, what it tastes, of what manner of food it partakes! Dost thou deem thyself to be doing nothing grievous in railing at thy brother? How then dost thou call him brother? And yet if he be not a brother, how sayest thou, Our Father? For the word Our is indicative of many persons. Think with whom thou standest at the time of the mysteries! With the Cherubim, with the Seraphim! The Seraphim revile not: no, their mouth fulfils this one only duty, to sing the Hymn of glory, to glorify God. And how then shalt thou be able to say with them, Holy, Holy, Holy, if thou use thy mouth for reviling? Tell me, I pray. Suppose there were a royal vessel, and that always full of royal dainties, and set apart for that purpose, and then that any one of the servants were to take and use it for holding dung. Would he ever venture again to store it away with those other vessels, set apart for those other uses? Surely not. Now railing is like this, reviling is like this. Our Father! But what? is this all? Hear also the words which follow, which art in Heaven. The moment thou sayest, Our Father, which art in Heaven, the word raises thee up, it gives wings to thy mind, it points out to thee that thou hast a Father in Heaven. Do then nothing, speak nothing of things upon earth. He hath set thee amongst that host above, He hath numbered thee with that heavenly choir. Why dost thou drag thyself down? Thou art standing beside the royal throne, and thou revilest? Art thou not afraid lest the king should deem it an outrage. Why, if a servant, even here with us, beats his fellow-servant or assaults him, even though he do it justly, yet we at once rebuke him, and deem the act an outrage; and yet dost thou, who art standing with the Cherubim beside the king’s throne, revile thy brother? Seest thou not these holy vessels? Are they not used continually for one only purpose? Does any one ever venture to use them for any other? Yet art thou holier than these vessels, yea far holier. Why then defile, why contaminate thyself? Art thou standing in Heaven, and dost thou revile? Hast thou thy citizenship with Angels, and dost thou revile? Art thou counted worthy the Lord’s kiss, and dost thou revile? Hath God graced thy mouth with so many and great things, with hymns angelic, with food, not angelic, no but more than angelic, with His own kiss, with His own embrace, and dost thou revile? Oh, no, I implore thee. Vast are the evils of which this is the source; far be it from a Christian soul. Do I not convince thee as I am speaking, do I not shame thee? If not, then does it now become my duty to alarm you. For hear what Christ saith; Whosoever shall say to his brother, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.* Now if that which is lightest of all leads to hell, of what shall not he be worthy, who utters presumptuous words? Let us discipline our mouth to silence. Great is the advantage from this, great the mischief from ill language. We must not spend our riches here. Let us put door and bolt upon them. Let us devour ourselves alive if ever a vexatious word slip out of our mouth. Let us entreat God, let us entreat him whom we have reviled. Let us not think it beneath us to do so. It is ourselves we have wounded, not him. Let us apply the remedy, prayer, and reconciliation with him whom we have reviled. If in our words we are to take such forethought, much more let us impose laws upon ourselves in our deeds. Yea, and if we have friends, or whoever they may be, and they should speak evil to any man or revile him, demand of them and enforce satisfaction. Let us by all means learn that such conduct is even sin; for if we learn this, we shall soon depart from it.

Now the God of peace keep both your mind and your tongue, and fence you with a sure fence, even His fear, through Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom to the Father, and the Holy Spirit together, be glory for ever.

Homily XV

As bees will never settle down in an unclean vessel,—and this is the reason why those who are skilled in these matters sprinkle the spot with perfumes, and scented ointments, and sweet odours, and the wicker baskets also, in which they will have to settle as soon as they come out of the hives, with fragrant wines, and all other sweets, that there may be no noisome smell to annoy them, and drive them away again,—so in truth is it also with the Holy Spirit. Our soul is a sort of vessel or basket, capable of receiving the swarms of spiritual gifts; but if there shall be within it gall, and bitterness, and wrath, the swarms will fly away. Hence this blessed and wise husbandman well and thoroughly cleanses our vessels, holding neither knife nor any other instrument of iron, and invites us to this spiritual swarm; and as he gathers it, he cleanses us with prayers, and labours, and all the rest. Mark then how he cleanses out our heart. He has banished lying, he has banished anger. Now, again, he is pointing out how that evil may be yet more entirely eradicated; if we be not, saith he, bitter in spirit. For as it is wont to happen with our bile, if there chance to be but little, there will be but little disturbance if the receptacle should burst: but if ever the strong and biting property of this quality becomes excessive, the vessel which before held it will contain it no longer. It is as if it were eaten through by a scorching fire, it is no longer able to hold it and contain it within its appointed bounds, but is rent asunder by its intense sharpness, and lets it escape and injure the whole body. And it is like some very fierce and frightful wild beast, that has been brought into a city; as long as it is confined in the cages made for it, however it may rage, however it may roar, it will be unable to do harm to any one; but if ever its wrath shall get the better of it, and it shall break through the intervening bars, and be able to leap out, it fills the city with all sorts of confusion and disturbance, and puts all to flight. Such then is the nature also of bile. As long as it is kept within its proper limits, it will do us no great mischief; but as soon as ever the membrane that incloses it bursts, and there is nothing to hinder its being at once dispersed over the whole system, then, I say, at that moment, though it be so very trifling in quantity, yet by reason of the inordinate strength of its quality it taints all the other elements of our nature with its own peculiar virulence. For finding the blood, for instance, near to it, alike in place and in quality, and rendering the heat which is in that blood more acrid, and every thing else in fact which is near it, passing from its just temperature it overflows its bounds, turns all into gall, and therewith at once attacks likewise the other parts of the body; and thus infusing into all its own poisonous quality, it renders the man speechless, and causes him to expire, expelling life. Now, why have I stated all these things with such minuteness? It is in order that, understanding from this literal bitterness the intolerable evil of that bitterness which is figurative, and how entirely it destroys first of all the very soul that engenders it, we may escape experience of it. For as the one inflames the whole constitution, so does the other the thoughts, and carries away its captive to the abyss of hell. In order then that by carefully examining these matters we may escape this evil, and bridle the monster, or rather utterly root it out, let us hearken to what Paul saith, Let all bitterness be (not destroyed, but) put away from you. For what need have I of trouble to restrain it, what necessity is there to keep watch on a monster, when it is in my power to banish him from my soul, to remove him and take him off and exterminate him? Let us hearken then to Paul when he saith, Let all bitterness be put away from you. But, ah, the perversity that possesses us! Though we ought to do every thing to effect this, yet are there some so truly senseless as to congratulate themselves upon this evil, and to pride themselves upon it, and to glory in it, and who are envied by others. ‘A bitter man,’ they say, ‘is such an one, he is a scorpion, a serpent, a viper.’ They look upon him as one to be feared. But wherefore, good man, dost thou fear the bitter person? ‘I fear,’ you say, ‘lest he injure me, lest he destroy me; I am not proof against his malice, I am afraid lest he should take me who am a simple man, and unable to foresee any of his schemes, and throw me into his snares, and entangle us in the toils which he has set to deceive us.’ Now I cannot but smile. And why forsooth? Because these are the arguments of children, who fear things which are not to be feared. Surely there is nothing we ought so to despise, nothing we ought so to laugh to scorn, as a bitter and malicious man. For there is nothing so powerless as bitterness. It makes men fools and senseless.

Do ye not see that malice is blind? Have ye never heard, that he that diggeth a pit for his neighbours, diggeth it for himself?* How, you will say, ought we not to fear a soul full of tumult? If indeed we are to fear the bitter in the same way as we fear evil spirits, and fools and madmen, (for they indeed do every thing at random,) I grant it myself; but if, as men subtle in the conduct of affairs, that I never can. For nothing is so necessary for the proper conduct of affairs as prudence; and there is no greater hindrance to prudence than wickedness, and malice, and hollowness. Look at bilious persons, how unsightly they are, with all their bloom withered away. How weakly they are, and puny, and unequal to any thing. So also are souls of this nature. What else is wickedness, but a jaundice of the soul? Wickedness then has no strength in it, indeed it has not. Have ye a mind that I again make what I am saying plain to you by an instance, by setting before you the portraits of a treacherous and a guileless man? Absalom was a treacherous man, and stole all men’s hearts. And observe how great was his treachery. He went about,* it saith, and said, Hast thou no judgment?* wishing to conciliate every one to himself. But David was guileless. What then? Look at the end of them both, look, how full of utter madness was the former! For inasmuch as he looked solely to the hurt of his father, in all other things he was blinded. But not so David. For he that walketh uprightly, walketh surely;* that is, he that manages nothing over-subtilly, the man who devises no evil. Let us listen then to the blessed Paul, and let us pity, yea, let us weep for the bitter-minded, and let us practise every method, let us do every thing to extirpate this vice from their souls. For how is it not absurd, that when there is bile within us, (though that indeed is an useful element, for without bile a man cannot possibly exist, that bile, I mean, which is an element of his nature,) how then, I say, is it not absurd that we should do all we can to get rid of this, though we are so highly benefitted by it; and yet that we should do nothing, nor take any pains, to get rid of that which is in the soul, though it is in no case beneficial, but even in the highest degree injurious. He that would be wise among you, saith he, let him become a fool, that he may be wise.* Hearken too again to what Luke saith, They did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people.* Why, do we not see even now that the simple and guileless enjoy the common esteem of all. No one envies such an one in prosperity, no one tramples upon him in adversity, but all rejoice with him when he does well, and grieve with him in misfortune. Whereas whenever a bitter man fares prosperously, one and all lament it, as though some evil thing happened; but if he is unfortunate, one and all rejoice. Let us then pity them, for they have common enemies all over the world. Jacob was a guileless man, yet he overcame the treacherous Esau. For into a malicious soul wisdom shall not enter. Let all bitterness be put away from you.* Let not even a relic remain, for it will be sure, if stirred, as if from a smouldering brand, to turn all within to an entire blaze. Let us then distinctly understand what this bitterness is. Take, for example, the hollow-hearted man, the crafty, the man who is on the watch to do mischief, the man of evil suspicion. From him then wrath and anger are ever produced; for it is not possible for a soul like this to be in tranquillity, for the very root of anger and wrath is bitterness. The man of this character is both sullen, and never unbends his soul; he is always moody, always gloomy. For as I was saying, they themselves are the first to reap the fruit of their own evil ways.

And clamour, he adds.

What now, and dost thou take away clamour also? Yes, for the mild man must needs be of such a character, because clamour carries anger, as a horse his rider; tie the horse’s feet, and you will throw the rider.

It contributes then no little to this end, to discipline the soul never to raise the voice and cry aloud at all. Cut off clamour, and thou wilt clip the wings of anger, thou art quelling the first rising of the heart. For as it is impossible for a man to wrestle without lifting up his hands, so is it not in nature that he should be entangled in a quarrel without lifting up his voice. Bind the hands of the boxer, and then bid him strike. He will be unable to do so. So likewise will wrath be disarmed. But clamour raises it, even where it does not exist. And hence it is especially that the female sex are so easily overtaken in it. Women, whenever they are angry with their maidservants, fill the whole house with their own clamour. And oftentimes too, if the house happens to be built along a narrow street, then all the passers by hear the mistress scolding, and the maid weeping and wailing. What can possibly be more disgraceful than this, than the sound of these wailings? All the women round immediately look out at window and ask, What is the matter there? ‘Such an one,’ it is answered, ‘is beating her own maid.’ What ever can be more shameless than this? What then, ought one not to strike at all? No, I say not so, (for it must be done,) but then it must be neither frequently, nor immoderately, nor for any wrongs of thine own, as I am constantly saying, nor for any little failure in her service, but only if she is doing harm to her own soul. If thou chastise her for a fault of this kind, all will applaud, and there will be none to upbraid thee; but if thou do it for any reasons of thine own, all will condemn thy cruelty and harshness. And what is more base than all, there are some so fierce and so savage as to lash them to such a degree, that the bruises will not disappear with the day. For they will strip the damsels, and call their husbands for the purpose, and oftentimes tie them to the pallets. Alas! at that moment, tell me, does no recollection of hell come over thee? What? dost thou strip thy handmaid, and expose her to thy husband? And art thou not ashamed, lest he should condemn thee for it? And then dost thou exasperate him yet more, and threaten to put her in chains, having first taunted the wretched and pitiable creature with ten thousand reproachful names, and called her ‘Thessalian witch, runaway, and prostitute?’ For her passion allows her not to spare even her own mouth, but she looks to one single object, how she may wreak her vengeance on the other, however she may disgrace herself. And then after all these things forsooth, she will sit in state like any tyrant, and call her children, and summon her foolish husband, and treat him as a hangman. Ought these things to take place in the houses of Christians? ‘Aye,’ say ye, ‘but they are a troublesome, audacious, impudent, incorrigible race.’ True, I know it myself, but there are other ways to keep them in order; by terrors, by threats, by words; which may both touch her more powerfully, and save thee from disgrace. Thou who art a gentlewoman hast uttered foul words, and thou disgracest thyself no less than her. Then if she shall have occasion to go out to the bath, there are bruises on her back when she is naked, and she carries about with her the marks of thy cruelty. ‘But,’ say ye, ‘the whole tribe of slaves is intolerable if it meet with indulgence.’ True, I know it myself. But then, as I was saying, correct them in some other way, not by the scourge only, and by terror, but even by encouragement, and by acts of kindness. If she is a believer, she is thy sister. Consider that thou art her mistress, and that she ministers unto thee. If she be intemperate, cut off the temptations to drunkenness, call thy husband, and admonish her. Or dost thou not feel how disgraceful a thing it is for a woman to be beaten? They at least who have enacted ten thousand punishments for men,—the stake, and the rack,—will scarcely ever hang a woman, but limit men’s anger to smiting her on the cheek; and so great delicacy have they observed towards the sex, that not even when there is absolute necessity will they hang a woman, especially if she happen to be pregnant. For it is a disgrace for a man to strike a woman; and if for a man, much more for one of her own sex. It is moreover by these things that women become odious to their husbands. ‘What then,’ ye may say, ‘if she shall act the harlot?’ Marry her to an husband, cut off the temptations to fornication, suffer her not to be too high fed. ‘What then, if she shall steal?’ Take care of her, and watch her.—‘Extravagant!’ thou wilt say; ‘What, am I to be her keeper?’ How absurd! And why, I pray, art thou not to be her keeper? Has she not a soul as well as thou? Has she not been vouchsafed the same privileges by God? Does she not partake of the same table? Does she not share with thee the same high birth? ‘But what then,’ ye will say, ‘if she shall be a railer, or a gossip, or a drunkard?’ Yet how many free women are such? Now, God hath charged men to bear with all the failings of women: only, He saith, let not a woman be an harlot, and bear every other failing besides. Yea, be she drunkard, or railer, or gossip, or evil eyed, or extravagant, and a squanderer of thy substance, thou hast her for the partner of thy life. Thou art bound to regulate her. It is for this thou art the head. Regulate her therefore, do thy own part. Yea and if she remain incorrigible, yea though she steal, take care of thy goods, be not so eager to punish her. If she be a gossip, silence her. This is the very highest philosophy.

Now, however, some are come to such a height of indecency as to uncover the head, and to drag their maidservants by the hair.—Why do ye all blush? I am not addressing myself to all, but to those who are carried away into such brutal conduct. Paul saith, Let not a woman be uncovered.* And dost thou then entirely strip off her head-dress? Dost thou see how thou art doing outrage to thyself? At least, if she makes her appearance to thee with her head bare, thou callest it an insult. And dost thou say that there is nothing shocking when thou barest it thyself? Then ye will say, ‘what if she be not corrected?’ Chasten her then with the rod and with stripes. And yet how many failings hast thou also thyself, and yet art not thou corrected! These things I am saying not for their sakes, but for the sake of you free-women, that ye do nothing so unworthy, nothing to disgrace you, that ye do yourselves no wrong. If thou wilt learn this lesson in thy household in dealing with thy maidservant, and not be harsh but gentle and forbearing, much more wilt thou be so in thy behaviour to thy husband. For if, where thou hast the power, thou shalt evince that such is not thy practice, much less where there is a check, wilt thou do any thing of the sort. So that the discipline employed about your maidservants, will be of the greatest service to you in gaining the kind affection of your husbands. For with what measure ye mete withal, He saith, it shall be measured unto you again.* Set a bridle upon thy mouth. If thou art disciplined to bear the provocations of a servant, thou wilt not be annoyed with the insolence of an equal, and in being above annoyance, wilt have attained to the highest philosophy. But some there are who add even oaths, but there is nothing more shocking than a woman so enraged. But what again, ye will say, if she dress gaily? Why then, check this, and thou hast my consent; but check it by first beginning with thyself, not so much by way of warning, as by example. Be in every thing thyself a perfect pattern.

And let evil speaking, saith he, be put away from you. Observe the progress of mischief. Bitterness produces wrath, wrath anger, anger clamour, clamour evil-speaking, that is, revilings; next from evil-speaking it goes on to blows, from blows to wounds, from wounds to death. Paul, however, did not wish to mention any of these, but only this, let this, saith he, be put away from you, with all malice. What is with all malice? This is said, because all malice ends in this way. For there are some, like those dogs that bite in the dark, which do not bark at all at those that come near them, nor are angry, but which fawn, and display a gentle aspect; but when they catch us off our guard, will fix their teeth in us. These are more dangerous than those that take up open enmity. Now since there are men too that are dogs, who neither cry out, nor fly in a passion, or threaten us when they are offended, yet in secret are weaving plots, and contriving ten thousand mischiefs, and revenging themselves not in words but in deeds, he hints at these. Let those things be put away from you, saith he, with all malice. Do not spare thy words, and then revenge thyself in acts. My purpose in chastising my tongue and curtailing its clamour, is to prevent its kindling up a more violent blaze. But if thou without any clamour art doing the same thing, and art cherishing the lighted wood and the live coals within, where is the good of thy silence? Dost thou not know, that those conflagrations are the most destructive of all which are fed within, and appear not to those that are without? And that those wounds are the deadliest which never break out to the surface; and those fevers the worst which burn up the vitals? So also is this anger the most dangerous that preys upon the soul. But let this too be put away from you, saith he, with all malice, of every kind and degree, great and little. Let us then hearken to him, let us cast out all bitterness and all malice, that we grieve not the Holy Spirit. Let us destroy all bitterness in its foundation; let us cut it up by the very roots. Nothing good, nothing healthful, can ever come from a bitter soul; nothing but misfortunes, nothing but tears, nothing but weeping and wailing. Do ye not see those beasts that roar or cry out, how we turn away from them; the lion, for instance, and the bear? But not so from the sheep; for there is no roaring, but a mild and gentle voice. And so again with musical instruments, those which are loud and harsh are the most unpleasant to the ear, such as the drum and trumpet; whereas those which are not so, but are soothing, these are pleasant, as the flute and lyre and pipe. Let us then attune our soul so as never to cry aloud, and thus shall we be enabled also to gain the mastery over our anger. And when we have cut out this, we ourselves shall be the first to enjoy the calm, and we shall sail into that peaceful haven, which God grant we may all attain, in Jesus Christ our Lord, with Whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, might, and honour, now, and ever, and throughout all ages.

Homily XVI

If we are to attain to the kingdom of Heaven, it is not enough to abandon wickedness, but great exercise of the virtues is required also. To be delivered indeed from hell we must abstain from wickedness; but to attain to the kingdom we must cleave fast to virtue. Know ye not that even in the tribunals of the heathen, when examination is made of men’s deeds, and the whole city is assembled, this is the case? Nay, there was an ancient custom amongst the heathen, to crown with a golden crown,—not the man who had done no evil to his country, for this were in itself no more than enough to save him from punishment;—but him who had achieved signal benefits. It was thus that a man was to be advanced to this distinction. But what I had especial need to say, had, I know not how, well nigh escaped me. I shall accordingly make some slight correction of what I have said, and postpone the first portion of these two divisions.

For as I was saying that the departure from evil is sufficient to prevent our falling into hell, whilst I was speaking, there stole upon me a certain awful sentence, which does not merely bring down vengeance on them that dare to commit evil, but which also punishes those who omit any opportunity of doing good. What sentence then is this? When the day, the dreadful day, He saith, was arrived, and the set time was come, the Judge, seated on the judgment seat, set the sheep on the right hand and the goats on the left; and to the sheep He said, Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat.* So far, well. For it was meet that for such compassion they should receive this reward. That those, however, who only did not communicate of their own possessions to them that were in need, that they should be punished, not merely by the loss of blessings, but by being also sent to hell-fire, what just reason, I say, can there be in this? Now most certainly this too will have a fair shew of reason, no less than the other case: for we are hence instructed, that as they that have done good shall enjoy those good things that are in heaven, so they, who, though they have no evil indeed to be charged with, yet have omitted to do any good they might have done, will be hurried away with them that have done evil into hell-fire. Unless one might indeed say this, that the very not doing good is a part of wickedness, inasmuch as it comes of indolence, and indolence is a part of vice, nay, rather, not a part, but a source and baneful root of it. For idleness is the teacher of every vice. Let us not then foolishly ask such questions as these, What place shall he occupy, who has done neither any evil nor any good? The very not doing good, is in itself doing evil. Tell me, if thou hadst a servant, who should neither steal, nor insult, nor contradict thee, who moreover should keep from drunkenness and every other kind of vice, and yet should sit perpetually in idleness, and not doing one of those duties which a servant owes to his master, wouldest thou not chastise him, wouldest thou not put him to the rack? Doubtless, thou wilt say, I would. And yet forsooth he has done no evil. No, but this is in itself doing evil. But let us, if you please, apply this to other cases in life. Suppose then that of an husbandman. He does no damage to our property, he lays no plots against us, and he is not a thief, he only ties his hands behind him, and sits at home, he neither sows, nor cuts a single furrow, nor harnesses an ox to the yoke, nor looks after a vine, nor in fact discharges any one of those other labours required in husbandry. Now, I say, should we not chastise such a man? And yet he has done no wrong to any one, we have no charge whatever to make against him. No, but by this very thing has he done wrong. He does wrong in that he does not contribute his own share to the common stock of good. And what again, tell me, if every single artisan or mechanic were only to do no harm, say to one of a different craft,—nay, to one of his own, but only were to be idle, would not our whole life at that rate be utterly at an end and perish? Will ye that I yet further protract the discourse with reference to the body? Let the hand then neither strike the head, nor cut out the tongue, nor pluck out the eye, nor do any evil of this sort, but only remain idle, and not render its due service to the body at large; would it not be more fitting that it should be cut off, than that one should carry it about in idleness, and a detriment to the whole body? And what too, if the mouth, without either devouring the hand, or biting the breast, should nevertheless fail in all its proper duties; were it not far better that it should be stopped? If therefore both in the case of servants, and of mechanics, and of the whole body, not only the commission of evil, but also the omission of what is good, is great unrighteousness, much more will this be the case in the body of Christ.

So that if thou hast a wish to revenge thyself, revenge thyself in this manner. Return good for evil, that thou mayest at once both render him thy debtor, and achieve a glorious victory. Hast thou suffered evil? Do good; thus avenge thee of thine enemy. For if thou shalt go about to resent it, one and all will blame alike both thee and him. Whereas if thou shalt endure it, it will be otherwise. Thee they will applaud and admire; but him they will reproach. And what greater punishment can there be to an enemy, than to behold his enemy admired and applauded by all men? What more bitter to an enemy, than to behold himself reproached by all before his enemy’s face? If thou shalt avenge thee on him, thou wilt both be condemned perhaps thyself, and wilt be the sole avenger; whereas if thou shalt forgive him, all will be avengers in thy stead. And this will be far more severe than any evil he can suffer, that his enemy should have so many to avenge him. If thou openest thy mouth, they will be silent; but if thou art silent, thou art shooting at him, not with one tongue only, but with ten thousand tongues of others, and art the more avenged. And on thee indeed, if thou shalt reproach him, many again will cast imputations, (for they will say that thy words are those of passion;) but when he who has sustained no wrong, thus overwhelms him with reproaches, then is the revenge especially clear of all suspicion. For when they who have suffered no mischief, in consequence of thy excessive forbearance feel and sympathize with thee, as though they had been wronged themselves, this is a vengeance clear of all suspicion. ‘But what then,’ ye will say, ‘if no man should take up our quarrel.’ It cannot be that men will be such stones, as to behold such philosophy, and not admire it. And though they wreak not their vengeance on him at the time; still, afterwards, when they are in the mood, they will do so, by scoffing and ridicule. And if no one else admire thee, the man himself will most surely admire thee, though he may not own it. For our judgment of what is right, even though we be come to the very depth of wickedness, remains impartial and unbiassed. Why, suppose ye, did our Lord Christ say, If a man smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also?* Is it not because the more long-suffering a man is, the more signal the benefit he confers both on himself and on the other? For this cause He charges us to turn the other also, to satisfy the desire of the enraged. For who is such a monster as not to be at once put to shame? The very dogs are said to feel it; for if they bark and attack a man, and he throws himself on his back and does nothing, he puts a stop to all their wrath. If they then reverence the man who is ready to suffer evil from them, much more will the more rational race of man.

However, it is right not to overlook what a little before came into my recollection, and was brought forward for a testimony. And what then was this? We were speaking of the Jews, and of the chief rulers amongst them, how that they were blamed, as going after retaliation. And yet this the law permitted them; eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.* True, but not to the intent that men should pluck out each others’ eyes, but that they should check boldness in aggression, by fear of suffering in return, and thus should neither do any evil to others, nor suffer any evil from others themselves. Therefore it was said, eye for eye, to tie the hands of the aggressor, not to let thine loose against him, and so not to ward off the hurt from thine eyes only, but also to preserve his eyes safe and sound.

But, as to what I was enquiring about,—why, if resentment was allowed, were they arraigned who adopted it in practice? What ever can this mean? He here speaks of vindictiveness; for on the spur of the moment he allows the sufferer to act, as I was saying, in order to check the aggressor; but further to bear a grudge he permits not; because the act then is no longer one of passion, nor of boiling rage, but of malice premeditated. Now God forgives those who may be carried away, perhaps upon a sense of outrage, and rush out to resent it. Hence He says, eye for eye; and yet again, the ways of the revengeful lead to death.* Now, if, where it was permitted to put out eye for eye, so great a punishment is denounced against the revengeful, how much more will it, amongst those who are bidden even to expose themselves to ill-treatment. Let us not then be revengeful, but let us quench our anger, that we may be counted worthy of the loving-kindness, which comes from God. For with what measure, saith Christ, ye mete withal, it shall be measured unto you again, and with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged;* let us then be kind towards our fellow-servants, and compassionate, that we may both escape the snares of this present life, and in the day that is at hand, may obtain pardon at His hands, through His grace and loving-kindness.

Homily XVII

The events which are past, have greater force than those which are yet to come, and appear to be at once both more amazing, and more convincing. And hence accordingly Paul founds his exhortation upon the things which have been advanced to us,* inasmuch as they, on Christ’s account, have a greater force. For to say, Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven, and, if ye forgive not, ye shall in no wise be forgiven,—this addressed to men of understanding, and who are believers in the things to come, is of great weight; but Paul appeals to the conscience not by these arguments only, but also by things already advanced to us. In the former way we may escape punishment, whereas in this latter we have our share of some positive good. Imitate Christ, saith he. This alone is enough to recommend virtue, that it is to imitate God. This is a higher principle than the other, for He maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.* Because he does not merely say, that we are imitating God, but that, where we receive ourselves such benefits, he would have us cherish the tender heart of fathers towards each other. For by heart, here, is meant loving-kindness and compassion. For inasmuch as it cannot be that, as men, we shall avoid either giving pain or suffering it, he does the next thing, he devises a remedy,—that we should forgive one another. Forgiving, saith he, one another. And yet there is no comparison. For if thou indeed shouldest at this moment forgive any one, he will forgive thee again in return; whereas to God thou hast neither given nor forgiven any thing. And thou indeed art forgiving a fellow-servant; whereas God is forgiving a servant, and an enemy, and one that hates Him.

Even as God, saith he, for Christ’s sake hath forgiven us.

And this, moreover, contains a high allusion. What he means, however, is this; not merely, he would say, hath He forgiven us, and at no venture, but at the sacrifice of His Son; for that He might forgive thee, He sacrificed the Son; whereas thou, oftentimes, when thou seest pardon to be both without venture and without cost, yet dost not grant it.

Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given Himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour.

That thou mayest not then think it an act of necessity, hear how He saith, not simply that He died, but that He gave Himself. As though he were saying, Thy Master loved thee who wert an enemy; love thou thy friend. Nay but neither then wilt thou be able so to love; yet still do so as far as thou art able. Oh, what can be more blessed than a sound like this! Tell me of royalty or whatever else thou wilt, there is no comparison. Forgive another, and thou art imitating God, thou art made like unto God. It is more our duty to forgive trespasses than debts; for if thou shalt forgive debts, thou wilt not therefore be imitating God; whereas if thou shalt forgive trespasses, thou art imitating God. And yet how shalt thou be able to say, ‘I am poor, and am not able to forgive it,’ that is, a debt, when thou forgivest not that which thou art able to forgive, that is, a trespass? And dost thou deem that in this case there is any loss? Yea, is it not rather wealth, is it not abundance, is it not ample means?

Be ye therefore followers of God.

And behold yet another and a nobler incitement:—as dear children, saith he. Ye have yet another cogent reason to imitate Him, not only in that ye have received such good at His hands, but also in that ye are made His children. And since not all children imitate their fathers, but those which are dear, therefore he saith, as dear children.

Ver. 2. Walk in love.

Behold, here, the groundwork of all! So then where this is, there is no wrath, no anger, no clamour, no evil-speaking, but all are done away. Accordingly he puts the chief point last. Whence wert thou made a child? Because thou wert forgiven. On the same ground on which thou hast had so vast a privilege vouchsafed thee, on that self-same ground forgive thy neighbour. Tell me, I say, if thou wert in prison, and hadst ten thousand misdeeds to answer for, and some one were to raise thee to the palace; or rather to pass over this argument, suppose thou wert in a fever and in the agonies of death, and some one were to benefit thee by some medicine, wouldest thou not value him more than all, yea and the very name of the medicine? For if we thus regard occasions and places by which we are benefitted, even as our own souls, much more shall we the things themselves. Let the object of thy passion then be love; for by this art thou saved, by this hast thou been made a son. And if thou shalt have it in thy power to save another, wilt thou not use the same remedy, and give the advice to all, ‘Forgive, that ye may be forgiven?’ Thus to incite one another, were the part of grateful, of generous, and noble spirits.

As Christ also, he adds, hath loved us.

Thou art only sparing friends, He enemies. So then far greater is that boon which cometh from our Master. For how in our case is the as preserved. Surely it is clear that it will be, by our doing good to our enemies.

And hath given Himself an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour.

Seest thou that to suffer for one’s enemies, is a sweet-smelling savour, and an acceptable sacrifice? And if thou shalt die, then wilt thou be indeed a sacrifice. This it is to imitate God.

Ver. 3. But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named amongst you, as becometh saints.

He has spoken of the bitter passion of wrath; he now comes to the lesser evil: for that lust is the lesser evil, hear how Moses also in the law says, first, Thou shalt not kill, which is the work of wrath, and then, Thou, shalt not commit adultery, which is of lust. For as bitterness, and clamour, and all malice, and evil-speaking, and the like, are the works of the passionate man, so likewise are fornication, uncleanness, covetousness, those of the lustful; since avarice and sensuality spring from the same passion. But just as in the former case he took away clamour as being the vehicle of anger, so now does he filthy talking and jesting as being the vehicle of lust; for he proceeds,

Ver. 4. And filthiness, and foolish talking, and jesting, which are not convenient; but rather giving of thanks.

Have no pleasantries, no obscenities, either in word or in deed, and thou wilt quench the flame—let them not be once named, saith he, amongst you, that is, let them not any where be so much as seen. This he says also in writing to the Corinthians. It is even heard that there is such a thing as fornication;* as much as to say, Be ye all pure. For words are the way to acts. Then, that he may not appear a forbidding kind of person and austere, and a destroyer of playfulness,* he goes on to add the reason, by saying, which are not convenient, which are no business of ours—but rather giving of thanks. What good is there in uttering a pleasantry? thou only raisest a laugh. Tell me, will the shoemaker ever busy himself about any thing which has no reference to his trade? or will he purchase any tool of that kind? No, never. Because the things we do not need, are nothing to us.

But since the matter appears to some to be one of indifference, which moreover is difficult to be guarded against, let us discuss this point a little, to shew you how vast an evil it is. For indeed this is a work of the devil, to make us disregard things indifferent. First of all then, even if it were indifferent, not even in that case were it right to disregard it, when one knows that the greatest evils are both produced by it and increased, and that it oftentimes terminates in fornication. However, that neither is it indifferent, is evident from hence. Let us see then whence it is produced. Or rather, let us see what sort of person a saint ought to be:—gentle, meek, sorrowful, mournful, contrite. The man then who deals in jests is no saint. Nay, were he even a Greek, such an one would be scorned. These are things allowed to those only who are on the stage. Where filthiness is, there also is jesting; where unseasonable laughter is, there also is jesting. Hearken to what the Prophet saith, Serve the Lord in fear, and rejoice unto Him with trembling.* Jesting renders the soul soft and indolent and listless. Often too it teems with acts of violence, and creates wars. But what more? In fine, art thou not a man? then put away childish things.* Why, thou wilt not allow thine own servant in the market place to speak an impertinent word: and dost thou then, who sayest that thou art a servant of God, go uttering thy pleasantries in the public square? It is well if the soul that is sober be not stolen away; but one that is relaxed and dissolute, who cannot carry off? It will be its own murderer, and will stand in no need of the crafts or assaults of the devil.

But, moreover, in order to understand this, look too at the very name.* It means the versatile man, the man of all complexions, the unstable, the fickle, the man that can be any thing and every thing. But far is this from those who are servants to the Rock. Such a character quickly turns and changes; for he must needs mimic both gesture, and speech, and gait; and every thing, aye, and such an one is obliged to invent bitter jests: for he wants this also. But far be this from a Christian, to play the buffoon. Farther, the man who plays the jester must of necessity incur the signal hatred of the objects of his random ridicule, whether they be present, or absent and hear of it.

If the thing is creditable, why is it left to mountebanks? What, dost thou make thyself a mountebank, and yet art not ashamed? Why is it ye permit not your gentlewomen to do so? Is it not that ye set it down as a mark of an immodest, and not of a discreet, spirit? Great are the evils that dwell in a soul given to jesting; great is the ruin and desolation. Its consistency is broken, the building is decayed, fear is banished, reverence is gone. A tongue thou hast, not that thou mayest ridicule another man, but that thou mayest give thanks unto God.* Look at your merriment-makers as they are called, those buffoons. These are your jesters. Banish from your souls, I entreat you, this graceless accomplishment. It is the business of parasites, of mountebanks, of dancers, of harlots; far be it from a generous, far be it from a highborn soul, aye, far too even from slaves. If there be any one of broken character, if there be any vile person, that man is also a jester. To many indeed the thing appears to be even an excellence, and this truly calls for our sorrow. Just as lust by little and little launches out into fornication, so also does a turn for jesting. It seems to have a grace about it, yet is there nothing more graceless than this. For hear the Scripture which says, Before the thunder goeth lightning, and before a shamefaced man shall go favour.* Now there is nothing more shameless than the jester; so that his mouth is not full of favour, but of pain. Let us banish this custom from our tables. Yet are there some who teach it even to the poor! O monstrous! they make men in affliction play the jester. Why, where shall not this pest be found next? Already has it been brought into the Church itself. Already has it laid hold of the very Scriptures. Need I say any thing to prove the enormity of the evil? I am ashamed indeed, but still nevertheless I will speak; for I am desirous to shew to what a length the mischief has advanced, that I may not appear to be trifling, or to be discoursing on some trifling subject; that even thus I may be enabled to withdraw you from this delusion. And let no one think that I am fabricating, but I will tell you what I have really heard. A certain person happened to be in company with one of those who pride themselves highly on their knowledge; (now I know I shall excite a smile, but still I will say it notwithstanding;) and when the chapter was set before him, he read it, ‘Take and eat, children, lest ye be hungry.’ And again, others say, ‘Woe unto thee, Mammon, and to him that hath thee not;’ and many like enormities has jesting introduced; as when they say, ‘Now is there no nativity.’ And this I say to shew the enormity of this base temper; for these are the expressions of a soul destitute of all reverence. And are not these things enough to call down thunderbolts? And one might find many other such things which have been said by these men.

Wherefore, I entreat you, let us banish the custom universally, and speak those things which become us. For what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness, or what communion hath light with darkness?* Happy will it be for us, if, having kept ourselves aloof from all such monstrous doings, we be thus able to attain to the promised blessings; far indeed from dragging such a train after us, and sullying the purity of our minds by so many. For the man who will play the jester will soon go on to be a railer, and the railer will go on to heap ten thousand other mischiefs on himself. When then we shall have disciplined these two faculties of the soul, anger and desire,* and have put them like well-broken horses under the yoke of reason, then let us set over them the mind as charioteer, that we may gain the prize of our high calling;* which God grant that we may all attain, through Jesus Christ our Lord, with Whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, might, and honour, now, and ever, and throughout all ages.

Homily XVIII

There were, it is likely, in the time of our forefathers also, some who weakened the hands of the people,* and brought into practice that which is mentioned by Ezekiel,—or rather who did the works of the false prophets, who polluted God before His people for a handful of barley;* a thing, by the way, done methinks by some even at this day. When, I mean, we say that he who calleth his brother a fool shall depart into hell fire, others say, ‘What? Is he that calls his brother a fool to depart into hell fire? Impossible,’ say they. And again, when we say that the covetous man is an idolater, in this too again they make abatements, and say the expression is hyperbolical. And in this manner they underrate and explain away all the commandments. It was in allusion then to these that the blessed Paul, at this time when he wrote to the Ephesians, spoke thus, For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God; adding, let no man deceive you with vain words. Now vain words are those which for a while are gratifying, but are in no wise borne out in facts; because the whole case is a deception.

Because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.

Because of fornication, he means, because of covetousness, because of uncleanness, or both because of these things, and because of the deceit, inasmuch as there are deceivers. Children of disobedience; he thus calls those who are utterly disobedient, those who disobey Him.

Ver. 7, 8. Be not ye, therefore, partakers with them. For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord.

Observe how wisely he urges them forward; first, from the thought of Christ, that ye love one another, and do injury to no man; then, on the other hand, from the thought of punishment and hell-fire. For ye were sometimes darkness, says he, but now are ye light in the Lord. Which is what he says also in the Epistle to the Romans; What fruit therefore had ye then in those things whereof ye are now ashamed;* and reminds them of their former wickedness. That is to say, thinking what ye once were, and what ye are now become, do not run back into your former wickedness, nor do despite to the grace* of God.

Ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord.

Not, he says, by your own virtue, but through the grace of God has this accrued to you. That is to say, ye also were sometimes worthy of the same punishments, but now are so no more. Walk therefore as children of light. What is meant however by children of light, he adds afterwards.

Ver. 9, 10. For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth, proving what is acceptable unto the Lord.

In all goodness, he says; this is opposed to the angry, and the bitter: and righteousness; this to the covetous: and truth; this to false pleasure: not those former things, he says, which I was mentioning, but their opposites. In all; that is, the fruit of the Spirit ought to be evidenced in every thing. Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord; so that those things are tokens of a childish and imperfect mind.

Ver. 11, 12, 13. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light.

He had said, ye are light. Now the light exposes the things which take place in the darkness. So that if ye, says he, are virtuous, and conspicuous, the wicked will be unable to lie hidden. For just as when a candle is set, all are brought to light, and the thief cannot enter; so if your light shine, the wicked shall be discovered and exposed. So then it is our duty to expose them. How then does our Lord say, Judge not, that ye be not judged?* The word is not condemn, but expose, that is, correct.* And the words, Judge not, that ye be not judged, He spoke with reference to the smallest errors. Indeed, He added, Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, and perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?* But what Paul is saying, is of this sort. As a wound, so long as it is imbedded and concealed outwardly, and runs beneath the surface, receives no attention, so also sin, as long as it is concealed, being as it were in darkness, is daringly committed in full security; but as soon as it is made manifest, becomes light; not indeed the sin itself, (for how could that be?) but the sinner. For when he has been brought out to light, when he has been admonished, when he has repented, when he has obtained pardon, hast thou not cleared away all his darkness? Hast thou not then healed his wound? Hast thou not called his unfruitfulness into fruit? Either this is his meaning, or else what I said above, that your life being manifest, is light. For no one hides an irreproachable life; whereas things which are hidden, are hidden by darkness covering them.

Ver. 14. Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.

By the sleeper and the dead, he means the man that is in sin; for he both exhales noisome odours like the dead, and is inactive like one that is asleep, and like him he sees nothing, but is dreaming and forming fancies and illusions.* Some indeed read, And thou shalt touch Christ; but others,* And Christ shall give thee light; and it is rather this latter. Depart from sin, and thou shalt be able to behold Christ. For he that doeth evil, hateth the light, neither cometh unto the light.* He therefore that doeth it not, cometh to the light.

Now he is not saying this with reference to the unbelievers only, for many of the faithful, no less than unbelievers, hold fast by wickedness; nay, some far more. Therefore to these also it is necessary to exclaim, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. To these it is fitting to say this also, God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.* If then he is not the God of the dead, let us live.

Now there are some who say that the words, the covetous man is an idolater, are hyperbolical. However, the statement is not hyperbolical, it is true. How, and in what way? Because the covetous man apostatizes from God, just as the idolater does. And lest you should imagine this is a bare assertion, there is a declaration of Christ which saith, Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.* They who serve Mammon have thrown themselves out of the service of God; and they who have denied His sovereignty, and serve lifeless gold, it is plain enough that they are idolaters. ‘But I never made an idol,’ a man will say, ‘nor set up an altar, nor sacrificed sheep, nor poured libations of wine; no, I have come to church, and lifted up my hands to the Only-begotten Son of God; I partake of the mysteries, I communicate in prayer, and in every thing else which is a Christian’s duty. How then,’ he will say, ‘am I a worshipper of idols?’ Yes, and this is the very thing which is the most astonishing of all, that when thou hast had experience, and hast tasted the loving-kindness of God, and hast seen that the Lord is gracious,* thou shouldest give up Him who is gracious, and take to thyself a cruel tyrant, and shouldest pretend to be serving Him, whilst in reality thou hast submitted thyself to the hard and galling yoke of covetousness. Thou hast not yet told me of thy own duty done, but only of thy Master’s gifts. For tell me, I beseech thee, whence do we judge of a soldier? Is it when he is on duty guarding the king, and is fed by him, and called the king’s own, or is it when he is disaffected to him, and is pretending indeed to be with him, and to be attentive to his interests, whilst he is advancing the cause of the enemy? Clearly enough, it is when he is on duty with the king; and for this very reason shall he be counted worthy of a yet severer punishment, if he breaks away from the king’s service, and joins the enemy. Now then thou art doing despite to God, just as an idolater does, not with thine own mouth singly, but with the ten thousands of those whom thou hast wronged. Yet you will say, ‘an idolater he is not.’ But surely, whenever the Gentiles say, ‘that Christian, that covetous fellow,’ then not only is he himself committing outrage by his own act, but he frequently forces those also whom he has wronged to use these words; and if they use them not, this is to be set to the account of their reverence.

Do we not see that such is the fact? What else is an idolater? Or does not he too oftentimes worship passions, not mastering his passions? I mean, for example, when we say that he worships idols, ‘no,’ he will say, ‘but it is Venus, or it is Mars.’ And if we say, Who is this Venus? the more modest amongst them will say, It is pleasure. Or what is this Mars? It is wrath. And in the same way dost thou worship Mammon. If we say, Who is this Mammon? It is covetousness, and this thou art worshipping. ‘I worship it not,’ thou wilt say. Why not? Because thou dost not bow thyself down? Nay, but as it is, thou art far more a worshipper in thy deeds and practices; for this is the higher kind of worship. And that you may understand this, look in the case of God; who more truly worship Him, they who merely stand up at the prayers, or they who do His will? Clearly enough, these latter. The same also is it with the worshippers of Mammon; they who do his will, they truly are his worshippers. However, they who worship the passions are oftentimes free from the passions. One may see a worshipper of Mars oftentimes governing his wrath. But this extends not to thee; thou makest thyself a slave to thy passion.

‘Yes, but thou slayest no sheep?’ No, thou slayest men, reasonable souls, some by famine, others by blasphemies. Nothing can be more wild and frantic than a sacrifice like this. Who ever beheld souls sacrificed? How accursed is the altar of covetousness! When thou passest by this idol’s altar here, thou shalt see it reeking with the blood of bullocks and goats; but when thou shalt pass by the altar of covetousness, thou shalt see it breathing the shocking odour of human blood. Stand here before it in this world, and thou shalt see, not the wings of birds burning, no vapour, no smoke exhaled, but the bodies of men perishing. For some throw themselves among precipices, others tie the halter, others thrust the dagger through their throat. Hast thou seen the cruel and inhuman sacrifices? Wouldest thou see yet more shocking ones than these? Then I will shew thee no longer the bodies of men, but the souls of men slain in the other world. Yes, for it is possible for a soul to be slain with the slaughter peculiar to the soul; for as there is a death of the body, so is there also of the soul. The soul that sinneth, saith the Prophet, it shall die.* The death of the soul, however, is not like the death of the body; it is far more shocking. For this bodily death, separating the soul and the body the one from the other, releases the one from many anxieties and toils, and transmits the other into a manifest abode: then when the body has been in time dissolved and crumbled away, it is again gathered together in incorruption, and receives back its own proper soul. Such we see is this bodily death. But that of the soul is awful and terrific. For this death, when dissolution takes place, does not let it pass, as the body does, but binds it down again to an imperishable body, and consigns it to the unquenchable fire. This then is the death of the soul. And as therefore there is a death of the soul, so is there also a slaughter of the soul. What is the slaughter of the body? It is the being turned into a corpse, the being stripped of the energy derived from the soul. What is the slaughter of the soul? It is its being made a carcase also. And how is the soul made a carcase? Because as the body then becomes a carcase when the soul leaves it destitute of its own vital energy, so also does the soul then become a carcase, when the Holy Spirit leaves it destitute of His spiritual energy.

Such for the most part are the sacrifices made at the altar of covetousness. They are not satisfied, they do not stop at men’s blood; no, the altar of covetousness is not glutted, unless it sacrifice the very soul itself also, unless it receive the souls of both, both the sacrificer and the sacrificed. For he who sacrifices must first be sacrificed, and then he sacrifices; and the dead sacrifices him who is yet living. For when he utters blasphemies, when he reviles, when he is irritated, are not these so many wounds of the soul, and incurable?

Thou hast seen that the expression is no hyperbole. Wouldest thou hear again another argument, to teach you how covetousness is idolatry, and more shocking than idolatry? Idolaters worship the creatures of God; (for they worshipped, it is said, and served the creature more than the Creator;)* but thou art worshipping a creature of thine own. For God made not covetousness, but thine own insatiable appetite invented it. And look at the madness and folly. They that worship idols, honour also the idols they worship; and if any one speak of them with disrespect or ridicule, they stand up in their defence; whereas thou, as if in a sort of intoxication, art worshipping an object, which is so far from being free from accusation, that it is even full of impiety. So that thou, even more than they, excellest in wickedness. Thou canst never have it to say as an excuse, that it is no evil. If even they are in the highest degree without excuse, yet art thou in a far higher, who art for ever censuring covetousness, and reviling those who devote themselves to it, and who serve and obey it.

We will examine, if you please, whence idolatry took its rise. A certain wise man* tells us, that a certain rich man afflicted with untimely mourning for his son, and having no consolation for his sorrow, consoled his passion in this way: having made a lifeless image of the dead, and constantly gazing at it, he seemed by the image to have the departed still; whilst certain flatterers, whose God was their belly,* treating the image with reverence in order to do him honour, carried on the custom into idolatry. So then it took its rise from weakness of soul, from a senseless custom, from extravagance. But not so covetousness: from weakness of soul indeed it is, only that it is from a worse weakness. It is not that any one has lost a son, nor that he is seeking for consolation in sorrow, nor that he is drawn on by flatterers. But how is it? I will tell you. Cain defrauded God; what ought to have been given to Him, he kept to himself; what he should have kept himself, this he offered to Him; and thus the evil began with robbing God. For if we are God’s, much more are the first-fruits of our possessions. Again, men’s violent passion for women arose from covetousness. They saw the daughters of men,* and they rushed headlong into lust. And from hence again it went on to money; for the wish to have more than one’s neighbour of this world’s goods, arises from no other source, than from love waxing cold. The wish to have more than one’s share arises from no other source than recklessness,* misanthropy, and disregard of the good of others. Look at the earth, how wide is its extent? How far greater than we can use the expanse of the sky and the heaven? It is that He might put an end to thy covetousness, that God hath thus widely extended the bounds of the creation. And art thou then still grasping nevertheless? And dost thou hear that covetousness is idolatry, and not shudder even at this? Dost thou wish to inherit the earth? Then hast thou no inheritance in heaven. Art thou eager to leave thy inheritance to others, that thou mayest rob thyself of it? Tell me, if any one were to offer thee power to possess all things, wouldest thou be unwilling? It is in thy power now, if thou wilt. Some, however, say, that they are grieved when they transmit the inheritance to others, and would fain have consumed it themselves, rather than see others become its masters. Nor do I acquit thee of this weakness; for this too is characteristic of a weak soul. However, at least let as much as this be done. In thy will leave Christ thine heir. It were thy duty indeed to do so in thy lifetime, for this were to do it on right principle. Still at all events be a little generous, though it be but by necessity. For Christ indeed charged us to give to the poor with this object, to make us wise in our lifetime,* to induce us to despise money, to teach us to look down upon earthly things. This is not contempt of money, to bestow it upon this man and upon that man when one dies, and is no longer master of it. Thou art then no longer giving of thine own, but of absolute necessity: thanks to death, not to thee. This is no act of affection, it is thy loss. However, let it be done even thus; at least then give up thy passion.

And have no fellowship, he adds, with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them; for it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret; but all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light. Hearken, I entreat you, all, as many of you as like not to be hated for nothing. A man commits a robbery, and dost thou not reprove him? But thou art afraid of the hatred: though this, however, is not to be hated without cause. But dost thou justly convict him, and yet fear the hatred? Convict thy brother, incur enmity for the love’s sake which thou owest to Christ, for the love’s sake which thou owest to thy brother. Arrest him as he is on his road to the pit of destruction. For to admit him to our table, to treat him with civil speeches, with salutations, and with entertainments, these are no signal proofs of friendship. No, those I have mentioned are the boons which we must bestow upon our friends, that we may rescue their souls from the wrath of God. When we see them lying prostrate in the furnace of wickedness, let us raise them up. ‘But,’ they say, ‘it is of no use, he is incorrigible.’ However, do thou thy duty, and then thou hast excused thyself to God. Hide not thy talent. It is for this that thou hast speech, it is for this thou hast a mouth and a tongue, that thou mayest correct thy neighbour. It is dumb and reasonless creatures only that have no care for their fellows, and take no account of the rest. But dost thou who callest God, ‘Father,’ and thy neighbour, ‘brother,’ when thou seest him committing unnumbered wickednesses, dost thou prefer his good-will to his welfare? No, do not so, I entreat you. There is no so certain evidence of friendship as never to overlook the sins of our brethren. Didst thou see them at enmity? Reconcile them. Didst thou see them set on unlawful gain? Check them. Didst thou see them wronged? Stand up in their defence. It is not on them, it is on thyself thou art conferring the chief benefit. It is for this we are friends, that we may be of use one to another. A man will listen in a different spirit to a friend, and to any other chance person. An indifferent person he will regard perhaps with suspicion, and so in like manner will he an instructor, but not so a friend.

For it is a shame, he says, even to speak of the things which are done of them in secret: but all things which are reproved are made manifest by the light. What is it he means to say here? He means this. That some sins in this world are done in secret, and some also openly; but in the other it shall not be so. Now there is no one who is not conscious to himself of some sin. This is why he says, But all the things which are reproved are made manifest by the light. What then? Is not this again, it will be said, meant concerning idolatry? It is not; the argument is about our life and our sins. For whatsoever is made manifest, says he, is light.

Wherefore, I entreat you, be ye never backward to reprove, nor displeased at being reproved. For as long indeed as any thing is carried on in the dark, it is carried on with greater security; but when it has many to witness what is done, it is brought to light. By all means then let us do all we can to chase away the deadness which is in our brethren, to scatter the darkness, and to attract to us the Sun of righteousness. For if there be many shining lights, the path of virtue will both be easy to themselves, and they which are in darkness will be more easily detected, while the light is held forth and puts the darkness to flight. Whereas if it be the reverse, there is fear lest, as the thick mist of darkness and of sin overpowers the light, and dispels its transparency, those shining lights themselves should be extinguished. Let us be then disposed to benefit one another, that one and all we may offer up praise and glory to the God of loving-kindness, by the grace and loving-kindness of Christ.

Homily XIX

He is still cleansing away the root of bitterness, still cutting off the very groundwork of anger. For what is he saying? Look circumspectly how ye walk. He knew that his Master, when He sent His disciples as sheep in the midst of wolves, further charged them to be also as doves.* For ye shall be harmless, saith he, as doves. Forasmuch then as they were both amongst wolves, and were besides commanded not to defend themselves, but to suffer evil, they needed this admonition. Not indeed but that the former was sufficient to render them well secured; but now that there is besides the double addition, reflect how exceedingly it is heightened. Observe then here also, how carefully he secures them, by saying, Look how ye walk. Whole cities were at war with them; yea, this war made its way also into houses. They were divided, father against son, and son against father, mother against daughter, and daughter against mother. What then? Whence these divisions? They heard Christ say, He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me.* Lest therefore they should think that he was introducing nothing but wars and fightings, (since there was likely to be considerable anger produced, if they on their part were to retaliate,) to prevent this, he says, See that ye walk circumspectly. That is to say, ‘Except the Gospel message,* give no other handle on any score whatever, for the hatred which you will incur.’ Let this be the only ground of hatred. Let no one have any other charge to make against you; but shew all deference and obedience, whenever it does no harm to the message, whenever it does not stand in the way of godliness. For it is said, Render to all their dues, tribute to whom tribute, custom to whom custom.* For when amongst the rest of the world they shall see us forbearing, they will be put to shame.

Not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time.

It is not from any wish that you should be artful, and versatile, that he gives this advice. But what he means is this. The time is not yours. At present ye are strangers, and sojourners, and foreigners, and aliens; seek not honours, seek not glory, seek not authority, nor revenge; bear all things, and in this way, redeem the time; give up many things, any thing they may require. The expression is obscure. Come then, I will throw light upon it by an example. Imagine now, I say, a man had a magnificent house, and persons were to make their way in, on purpose to murder him, and he were to give a large sum, and thus to rescue himself. Then we should say, he has redeemed himself. So also hast thou a large house, and a true faith in thy keeping. They will come to take all away. Give whatever they may demand, only preserve the principal, the faith, I mean.

Because the days, saith he, are evil.

What is the evil of the day? The evil of the day ought to belong to the day. If thou understandest what evil is incident to each of the several things among us, thou wilt also know what is the evil of a day. What is the evil of a body? Disease. And what again the evil of the soul? Wickedness. What is the evil of water? Bitterness. And the evil of each particular thing, is its badness with reference to that peculiar quality of which it is the evil. If then there is an evil in the day, it ought to belong to the day, to the hours, to the day-light. So also Christ saith, Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.* And from this expression we shall understand the other. In what sense then does he call the days evil? In what sense the time evil? It is not the essence of the thing, not the things as so created, but it is because of the things transacted in them. In the same way as we are in the habit of saying, “I have passed a disagreeable and wretched day.” And yet how could it be disagreeable, except from the circumstances which took place in it? Now the events which take place in it are, good things from God; but evil things from bad men. So then of the evils which happen in the times, men are the creators, and hence it is that the times are said to be evil. And thus we also call the times evil.

Ver. 17, 18. Wherefore, he adds, be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is; and be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess.

For indeed intemperance in this renders men passionate and violent, and hot-headed, and hasty, and peevish. Wine has been given us for cheerfulness, not for drunkenness. Whereas now it appears to be an unmanly and contemptible thing for a man not to get drunk. And what sort of hope then is there of salvation? What? contemptible, tell me, not to get drunk, where to get drunk ought of all things in the world to be most contemptible? For it is of all things right for even a private individual to avoid drunkenness; but how much more so for a soldier, a man who lives amongst swords, and bloodshed, and slaughter: much more, I say, for the soldier, when his temper is sharpened by other causes also, by power, by authority, by being constantly in the midst of stratagems and battles. Wouldest thou know where wine is good? Hear what the Scripture saith, Give wine to them that are in grief, and strong drink to those that be of heavy hearts.* And justly; because it can mitigate asperity and gloominess, and drive away clouds from the brow. Wine maketh glad the heart of man,* says the Psalmist. How then does wine produce drunkenness? For it cannot be that one and the same thing should work contradictions. Drunkenness then surely does not arise from wine, but from intemperance. Wine is bestowed upon us for no other purpose than for bodily health; but this purpose also is thwarted by immoderate use. But hear moreover what our blessed Apostle writes and says to Timothy, Use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake, and thine often infirmities.*

This is the reason why God has formed our bodies in moderate proportions, and so as to be satisfied with a little, from thence at once instructing us that He has formed us, as adapted to another life. And that life He would fain have bestowed upon us even from the very beginning; but since we rendered ourselves unworthy of it, He deferred it; and in the time during which He deferred it, not even in that does He allow us immoderate indulgence; for a little cup of wine and a single loaf is enough to satisfy a man’s hunger. And the Lord of all the brute creation has He formed so as to require less food in proportion than they, and his body small; thereby declaring to us nothing else than this, that we are hastening onward to another life. Be not drunk, says he, with wine,* wherein is excess; for not only does it not preserve, but it destroys; and that, not the body only, but the soul also.

Ver. 18, 19, 20, 21. But be filled with the Spirit; speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord; giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ; submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.*

Dost thou wish, he says, to be cheerful, dost thou wish to employ the day? I give thee spiritual drink; for drunkenness even cuts off the articulate sound of our tongue; it makes us lisp and stammer, and distorts the eyes, and the whole frame together. Learn to sing psalms, and thou shalt see the delightfulness of the employment. For they who sing psalms are filled with the Holy Spirit, as they who sing satanic songs are filled with an unclean spirit.

What is meant by, in your hearts to the Lord? It means, with close attention and understanding. For they who do not attend closely, merely sing, uttering the words, whilst their heart is roaming elsewhere.

Always, he says, giving thanks for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ; submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.

That is, let your requests be made known unto God, with thanksgiving;* for there is nothing so pleasing to God, as for a man to be thankful. But we shall be best able to give thanks unto God, by withdrawing our souls from the things before mentioned, and by thoroughly cleansing it by the means he has told us.

But be filled, says he, with the Spirit.

And is then this Spirit within us? Yes, indeed, within us. For when we have driven away lying, and bitterness, and fornication, and uncleanness, and covetousness, from our souls, when we are become kind, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, when there is no jesting, when we have rendered ourselves worthy of it, what is there to hinder the Holy Spirit from coming and lighting upon us? And not only will He come unto us, but He will fill our hearts; and when we have so great a light kindled within us, then will the way of virtue be no longer difficult to attain, but will be easy and simple.

Always giving thanks, he says, for all things.

What then? Are we to give thanks for every thing that befalls us? Yes; be it even disease, be it even penury. For if a certain wise man gave this advice in the Old Testament, and said, Whatsoever is brought upon thee take cheerfully, and be patient when thou art changed to a low estate;* much more ought this to be the case in the New. Yes, even though thou know not the word, give thanks. For this is thanksgiving. But if thou give thanks when thou art in comfort and in affluence, in success and in prosperity, there is nothing great, nothing wonderful in that. What is required is, for a man to give thanks when he is in afflictions, in anguish, in discouragements. Utter no word in preference to this, ‘Lord, I thank thee.’ And why do I speak of the afflictions of this world. It is our duty to give God thanks, even for hell itself, for the torments and punishments of the other. For surely it is a thing beneficial to those who attend to it, when the dread of hell is laid like a bridle on our hearts. Let us therefore give thanks not only for blessings which we see, but also for those which we see not, and for those which we receive against our will. For many are the blessings He bestows upon us, without our desire, without our knowledge. And if ye believe me not, I will at once proceed to make the case clear to you. For consider, I pray, do not the impious and unbelieving Gentiles ascribe every thing to the sun and to their idols? But what then? Doth He not bestow blessings even upon them? Is it not the work of His providence, that they have both life, and health, and children, and the like? And again they that are called Marcionites, and the Manichees, do they not even blaspheme Him? But what then? Does He not bestow blessings on them every day? Now if He bestows blessings on them that know them not, much more does he bestow them upon us. For what else is the peculiar work of God if it be not this, to do good to all mankind, alike by chastisements and by enjoyments. Let us not then give thanks only when we are in prosperity, for there is nothing great in this. And this the devil also well knows, and therefore he said, Doth Job fear God for nought? Hast Thou not made an hedge about what he hath, without and within? Take away all that he hath; no doubt, he will bless Thee to Thy face!* However,* that cursed one gained no advantage; and God forbid he should gain any advantage of us either; but whenever we are either in penury, or in sicknesses, or in disasters, then let us increase our thanksgiving; thanksgiving, I mean, not in words, nor in tongue, but in deeds and works, in mind and in heart. Let us give thanks unto Him with all our souls. For He loves us more than they which begat us; and wide as is the difference between evil and goodness, so great is the difference between the love of God and that of our fathers. And these are not my words, but those of Christ Himself Who loveth us. And hear what He Himself saith, What man is there of you, who, if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in Heaven give good things to them that ask Him?* And again, hear what He saith also elsewhere; Can a woman forget to have compassion upon the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee, saith the Lord.* For if He loveth us not, wherefore did He create us? Had He any necessity? Do we supply to Him any ministry and service? Needeth He any thing that we can render? Hear what the Prophet says; I said unto the Lord, Thou art my Lord, my goods are nothing unto Thee.*

The ungrateful, however, and unfeeling say, that this were worthy of God’s goodness, that there should be an equality amongst all. Tell me, ungrateful mortal, what sort of things are they which thou deniest to be of God’s goodness, and what equality meanest thou? ‘Such an one,’ thou wilt say, ‘is a cripple from his childhood; another is mad, and is possessed; another has arrived at extreme old age, and has spent his whole life in poverty; another in the most painful diseases: are these works of Providence? One man is deaf, another dumb, another poor, whilst another, impious, yea, utterly impious, and full of ten thousand vices, enjoys wealth, and keeps concubines, and parasites, and is owner of a splendid mansion, and lives an idle life.’ And many instances of the sort they string together, and weave a long reckoning of complaint against the providence of God.

What then? Are these things without a providence? What are we to say to them? Now if they were Greeks, and were to tell us that the universe is governed by some one or other, we should in turn address to them the self-same words, ‘What then, are things without a providence? How then is it that ye reverence gods, and worship genii and heroes? For if there is a providence, some one or other superintends the whole.’ But if any, whether Christians or Heathen, should be impatient at this, and be wavering, what shall we say to them? ‘Why, could so many good things, tell me, arise by accident? The daily light? The beautiful order that exists in all things? The mazy dances of the stars? The equable course of nights and days? The regular gradation of nature in vegetables, and animals, and men? Who, tell me, is it that ordereth these? If there were no superintending Being, but all things combined together by accident, who then was it that made this vault revolve, so beautiful, so vast, the sky, and set it upon the earth, nay more, upon the waters? Who is it that gives the fruitful seasons? Who implanted so great power in seeds and vegetables? For that which is accidental is necessarily disorderly; whereas that which is orderly implies art. For which, tell me, of the things around us that are accidental, is not full of great disorder, and of great tumult and confusion? Nor do I speak of things accidental only, but of those also which imply some agent, but an unskilful agent. For example, let there be timber and stone, and let there be lime withal; and let a man unskilled in building take them, and begin building, and set hard to work; will he not spoil and destroy every thing? Again, take a vessel without a pilot, containing every thing which a vessel ought to contain without a shipwright; I do not say unappointed, but well appointed; will it be able to sail? And could the vast extent of earth standing on the waters, tell me, ever stand so firmly, and so long a time, without some power to hold it together? And can these views have any reason in them? Is it not the extreme of absurdity to conceive such a notion? And if the earth supports the heaven withal, behold another burthen still; but if the heaven also is borne upon the waters, there arises again another question. But in truth, all is the work of providence. For things which are borne upon the water ought not to be made convex, but concave. Wherefore? Because, if concave, the whole body is immersed in the waters, as is the case with a ship; whereas of the convex the body is entirely above, and only the extremities rest upon the surface; so that it requires a resisting body, hard, and able to sustain it in order to bear the burthen imposed. But does the atmosphere then support the heaven?* Why, that is far softer, and more yielding even than water, and cannot sustain any thing, no, not the very lightest things, much less so vast a bulk. In fine, if we chose to follow out the argument of providence, both generally and in detail, time itself would fail us. For I will now ask him who would start those questions above mentioned, are these things the result of providence, or of the want of providence? And if he shall say, that they are not from providence, then again I will ask, how then did they arise? But no, he will never be able to give any account at all.

Much more then is it thy duty not to question, not to be over curious, in those things which concern man. And why not? Because man is nobler than all these, and these were made for his sake, not he for their sake. If then thou knowest not so much as the skill and contrivance that are visible in His providence, how shalt thou be able to know the reasons, where he himself is the subject? Tell me, I pray, why did God form him so small, so far below the height of heaven, as that he should even doubt of the things which appear above him? Why are the northern and southern climes uninhabitable? Tell me, I say, why is the night made longer in winter and shorter in summer? Why are the degrees of cold and heat such as they are? Why is the body mortal? And ten thousand questions besides I will ask thee, and if thou wilt, will never cease asking. And in one and all thou wilt be at a loss to answer. And thus is this of all things most providential, that the reasons of things are kept secret from us. For surely, one would have imagined man to be the cause of all things, were there not this to humble our understanding.

‘But such an one,’ you will say, ‘is poor, and poverty is an evil. And what is it to be sick, and what is it to be crippled?’ Oh, man, they are nothing. One thing alone is evil, that is sin; this is the only thing we ought to search to the bottom. And yet we omit to search into the causes of what are really evils, and busy ourselves about other things. Why is it that not one of us ever examines, why he has sinned? To sin,—is it then in my power, or is it not in my power? And why need I go round about me for a number of reasons? I will seek for the matter within myself. Now then did I ever master my wrath? Did I ever master my anger, either through shame, or through fear of man? Then whenever I discover this done, I shall discover that to sin is in my own power. No one examines these matters, no one busies himself about them. But only according to Job, Man vainly swims upon words.* For what is that to thee, if such an one is blind, or such an one poor? God hath not charged thee to look at this, but at what thou thyself art doing. For if on the one hand thou doubtest that there is any power superintending the world, thou art of all men the most senseless; but if thou art persuaded of this, why doubt that it is our duty to please God?

Always, he says, giving thanks for all things to God.

Go to the physician’s, and thou wilt see him, whenever a man is discovered to have a wound, using the knife and the cautery. But no, in thy case, I say not so much as this; but go to the carpenter’s. And yet thou dost not examine his reasons, although thou understandest not one of the things which are done there, and many things will appear to thee to be difficulties; as, for instance, when he hollows the wood, when he alters its outward shape. Nay, I would bring thee to a more intelligible craft still, for instance, that of the painter, and there thy head will swim. For tell me, does he not seem to be doing what he does at random? For what do his lines mean, and the turns and bends of the lines? But when he puts on the colours, then the beauty of the art will become conspicuous. Yet still, not even then wilt thou be able to attain to any accurate understanding of it. But why do I speak of carpenters, and painters, and others our fellow-servants? Tell me, how does the bee frame her comb, and then shalt thou speak about God also. Master the handy-work of the ant, the spider, and the swallow, and then shalt thou speak about God also. If thou be wise, tell me these things. But no, thou never canst. Wilt thou not cease then, O man, thy vain enquiries? For vain indeed they are. Wilt thou not cease from thy idle curiosity? Nothing so wise as this ignorance, where they that profess they know nothing are wisest of all, and they that are over curious, the most foolish of all. So that to profess knowledge is not every where a sign of wisdom, but sometimes of folly also. For tell me, suppose there were two men, and one of them should profess to stretch out his lines, and to measure the expanse that intervenes between the earth and heaven, and the other were to laugh at him, and confess that he understood it not, tell me, I pray, which should we laugh at, him that said he knew, or him that knew not? Evidently, the man that said that he knew. He that is ignorant, therefore, is wiser than he that professes to know. And what again? If any one were to profess to tell us how many cups of water the sea contains, and another should profess his ignorance, is not the ignorance here again wiser than the knowledge? Surely, vastly so. And why so? Because that knowledge itself is but intense ignorance. For he indeed who says that he is ignorant, knows something. And what is that? That it is incomprehensible to man. Yes, and this is no small portion of knowledge. Whereas he that says he knows, he of all others knows not what he says he knows, and is for this very reason utterly ridiculous.

Submitting yourselves one to another, he says, in the fear of God. For if thou submit thyself for a ruler’s sake, or for money’s sake, or from respectfulness, much more from the fear of God. Let there be an interchange of service and submission. For then will there be no such thing as slavery. Let not one sit down in the rank of a freeman, and the other in the rank of a slave; rather it were better that both masters and slaves be servants to one another;—far better to be a slave in this way than free in any other; as will be evident from hence. Suppose the case of a man who should have an hundred slaves, and not one of them should wait upon him; and suppose again a different case, of an hundred friends, all waiting upon one another. Which will lead the happier life? Which with the greater pleasure, with the more enjoyment? In the one case there is no anger, no provocation, no wrath, nor any thing else of the kind whatever; in the other all is fear and apprehension. In the one case too the whole is forced, in the other is of free choice. In the one case they serve one another by constraint, in the other with mutual gratification. Such is God’s intention; for this He washed His disciples’ feet. Nay more, if thou hast a mind to examine the matter nicely, there is indeed on the part of masters a return of service. For what if pride suffer not that reciprocity to appear. Yet if the slave on the one hand render his bodily service, and thou maintain that body, and supply it with food and clothing and shoes, this too is a kind of servitude: because unless thou render thy service as well, neither will he render his, but will be free, and no law will compel him to do it, whether he is maintained or not. If this then is the case with servants, where is the absurdity, if it should also become the case with free men. Submitting yourselves, in the fear, saith he, of Christ. How great then the obligation, when we shall also have a reward. But he does not choose to submit himself to thee. However, do thou submit thyself; not simply yield, but submit thyself. Entertain this feeling towards all, as if all were thy masters. For thus shalt thou soon have all as thy slaves, enslaved to thee with the most abject slavery. For thou wilt then more surely make them thine, when without receiving any thing of theirs, thou of thyself renderest them of thine own. This is, submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ; to subdue all the passions, to be servants of God, to preserve the love we owe to one another. And then shall we be able also to be counted worthy of the loving-kindness which cometh of God, through His grace and mercies.

Homily XX

A certain wise man, setting down a number of things in the rank of blessings, set down this also in the rank of a blessing, A wife agreeing with her husband.* And elsewhere again he sets it down among blessings, that a woman should dwell in harmony with her husband.* And indeed from the beginning, God appears to have made special provision for this union; and discoursing of the twain as one, He said thus, Male and female created He them;* and again, There is neither male nor female.* For there is no relationship between man and man so close as that between man and wife, if they be joined together as they should be. And therefore a certain blessed man too, when he would express surpassing love, and was mourning for one that was dear to him, and as his own soul, did not mention father, nor mother, nor child, nor brother, nor friend, but what? Thy love, saith he, fell upon me, as the love of women.* For indeed, in very deed, this love is of all empires the most absolute: for others indeed may be strong, but this passion has not only strength, but unfadingness. For there is a certain love deeply seated in our nature,* which imperceptibly to ourselves knits together these bodies of ours. Thus even from the very beginning, from man sprang woman, and afterwards from man and woman sprang both man and woman. Perceivest thou the close bond and connection? And how that God suffered not any extraneous nature to enter in from without? And mark, how many providential arrangements He made. He permitted the man to marry his own sister; or rather not his sister, but his daughter; nay, nor yet his daughter, but something more than his daughter, even his own flesh. And thus the whole He framed from one beginning,* gathering all together, like stones in a building, into one. For neither on the one hand did He form her from without, that the man might not feel towards her as towards an alien; nor again did He confine marriage to her, that man might not, by contracting himself, and making all centre in himself, be cut off from the rest. Thus as in the case of plants, they are of all others the best, which have but a single stem, and spread out into a number of branches; (since were all confined to the root alone, all would come to nothing, whereas again had it a number of roots the tree would be no longer beautiful;) so, I say, is the case here also. From Adam singly he made the whole race to spring, preventing them by the strongest necessity from being ever torn asunder, or separated; and afterwards, making it more restricted, he no longer allowed sisters and daughters to be wives, that we may not in a reverse way contract our love to one point, and thus in another manner be cut off from one another. Hence Christ said, He which made them from the beginning, made them male and female.

For great evils are hence produced, and great benefits, both to families and to states. For there is nothing which so tempers our life together as the love of man and wife. For this many will lay aside even their arms, for this they will give up life itself. And Paul would never without a reason and without an object have spent so much pains on this subject, as when he says here, Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. And why so? Because when they are in harmony, the children too are well brought up, and the domestics are in good order, and neighbours, and friends, and relations partake of the fragrance. But if it be otherwise, all is turned upside down, and thrown into confusion. And just as when the generals of an army are at peace one with another, all things are in due subordination, whereas on the other hand, if they are at variance, every thing is turned upside down; so, I say, is it also here. Wherefore, saith he, Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.

Yet how strange! for how then is it, Lord, that Thou sayest elsewhere, ‘If one bid not farewell both to wife and to husband, he cannot follow me?’* For if it is their duty to submit themselves, as unto the Lord, how saith He, that they must depart from them for the Lord’s sake? Yet their duty indeed it is, their bounden duty. But the word as is not necessarily and universally expressive of exact equality. He either means this, ‘as knowing that ye are servants to the Lord;’* (which by the way is what he says elsewhere, that, even though they do it not for the husband’s sake, yet must they primarily for the Lord’s sake;) or else he means, ‘when thou obeyest thy husband, think thou obeyest him as serving the Lord.’ For if he who resisteth these external authorities, those of governments, I mean, resisteth the ordinance of God,* much more does she who submits not herself to her husband. Such, saith the Scripture, was God’s will from the beginning.

Let us take as our groundwork then, that the husband occupies the place of the head, and the wife the place of the body.

Ver. 23, 24. Then, to shew by arguments also that the husband is the head of the wife, he adds, as Christ also is of the Church, and He is the Saviour of the body. Therefore as the Church is subject unto Christ, so also let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing.

Then after saying, The husband is the head of the wife, as Christ also is of the Church, he further adds, and He is the Saviour of the body. For indeed the head is the saving health of the body. He had already laid down beforehand for man and wife, the ground of their love, and their provident care, assigning to each their proper place, to the one that of authority and forethought, to the other that of submission. As then the Church, that is, both husbands and wives, is subject unto Christ, so also ye wives submit yourselves to your husbands, as unto God.

Ver. 25. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church.

Thou hast heard how great the submission; thou hast extolled and marvelled at Paul, how, like an admirable and spiritual man, he tempers together our whole life. Thou didst well. But now hear what he also requires at thy hands; for again he is employing the same pattern.

Husbands, saith he, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church.

Thou hast seen the measure of obedience, hear also the measure of love. Wouldest thou have thy wife obedient unto thee, as the Church is to Christ? Take then thyself the same provident care for her, as Christ takes for the Church. Yea, even if it shall be needful for thee to give thy life for her, yea, and to be cut into ten thousand pieces, yea, and to endure and undergo any suffering whatever,—refuse it not. Though thou shouldest undergo all this, yet wilt thou not, no, not even then, have done any thing like Christ. For thou indeed art doing it for one to whom thou art already knit; but He for one who turned her back on Him and hated Him. In the same way then as He laid at His feet her who turned her back on Him, who hated, and spurned, and disdained Him, not by menaces, nor by violence, nor by terror, nor by any thing else of the kind, but by his unwearied affection; so also do thou behave thyself towards thy wife. Yea, though thou see her looking down upon thee, and disdaining, and scorning thee, yet by thy great thoughtfulness for her, by affection, by kindness, thou wilt be able to lay her beneath thy feet. For there is nothing more absolute than these chains, and especially for husband and wife. A servant, indeed, one will be able, perhaps, to bind down by fear; nay not even him, for he will soon start away and be gone. But the partner of one’s life, the mother of one’s children, the foundation of all one’s joy, one ought never to chain down by fear and menaces, but with love and good temper. For what sort of union is that, where the wife trembles at her husband? And what sort of pleasure will the husband himself enjoy, if he dwells with his wife as with a slave, and not as with a free-woman? Yea, though thou shouldest suffer any thing on her account, do not upbraid her; for neither did Christ do this.

Ver. 26. And gave Himself, he says, for it, that He might sanctify and cleanse it.

So then she was unclean! So then she had blemishes, so then she was unsightly, so then she was worthless! Whatsoever kind of wife thou shalt take, yet shalt thou never take such a bride as the Church, when Christ took her, nor one so far removed from thee as the Church was from Christ. And yet for all that, He did not abhor her, nor loathed her for her surpassing deformity. Wouldest thou hear her deformity described? Hear what Paul saith, For ye were sometimes darkness.* Didst thou see the blackness of her hue? What blacker than darkness? But look again at her boldness; living, saith he, in malice and envy.* Look again at her impurity; disobedient, foolish. But what am I saying? She was both foolish, and of an evil tongue; and yet notwithstanding, though so many were her blemishes, yet did He give Himself up for her in her deformity, as for one in the bloom of youth, as for one dearly beloved, as for one of wonderful beauty. And it was in admiration of this that Paul said, For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; and again, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.* And though such as this He took her, He arrayed her in beauty, and washed her, and refused not even this, to give Himself for her.

Ver. 26, 27. That He might sanctify and cleanse her, he proceeds, by the laver of the water by the word; that He might present her to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish.*

By the laver He washeth her uncleanness. By the word, saith he. What word? In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.* And not simply hath He adorned her, but hath made her glorious, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing. Let us then also seek after this beauty ourselves, and we shall be able to create it. Seek not thou at thy wife’s hands, things which are not hers. Seest thou that the Church had all things at her Lord’s hands? By Him was made glorious, by Him made without blemish? Turn not thy back on thy wife because of her deformity. Hear the Scripture that saith, The bee is little among such as fly, but her fruit is the chief of sweet things.* She is of God’s fashioning. Thou reproachest not her, but Him that made her; what can the woman do? Praise her not for her beauty. Both that praise and that hatred alike, and this love, belong to unchastened souls. Seek thou for beauty of soul. Imitate the Bridegroom of the Church. Outward beauty is full of conceit and great license,* and throws men into jealousy, and the thing often makes thee suspect monstrous things. But has it any pleasure? For the first or second month, perhaps, or at most for the year: but then no longer; the admiration by familiarity wastes away. Meanwhile the evils which arose from the beauty still abide, the pride, the folly, the contemptuousness. Whereas in one who is not such, there is nothing of this kind. But the love having begun on just grounds, still continues ardent, since its object is beauty, not of the body, but of the soul. What better, tell me, than heaven? What better than the stars? Tell me of what body you will, yet is there none so fair. Tell me of what eyes you will, yet are there none so sparkling. When these were created, the very Angels gazed with wonder, and we gaze with wonder now; yet not in the same degree as at first. Such is familiarity; things do not strike us in the same degree. How much more in the case of a wife! And if moreover disease come too, all is at once fled. Let us seek in a wife affectionateness, modest-mindedness, gentleness; these are the characteristics of beauty. But loveliness of person let us not seek, nor upbraid her upon these points, over which she has no power, nay, rather, let us not upbraid at all, (it were rudeness,) nor let us be impatient, nor sullen. Do ye not see how many, after living with beautiful wives, have ended their lives pitiably, and how many, who have lived with those of no great beauty, have run on to extreme old age with great enjoyment. Let us wipe off the spot that is within, let us smooth the wrinkles that are within, let us do away the blemishes that are on the soul. Such is the beauty God requires. Let us make her fair in God’s sight, not in our own. Let us not look for wealth, nor for that high-birth which is outward, but for that true nobility which is in the soul. Let no one be looking to get rich by a wife; for such riches are base and disgraceful; no, let no one look at all to get rich from this source. For they that will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and into foolish and hurtful lusts, and into destruction and perdition.* Seek not therefore in thy wife abundance of wealth, and thou shalt find every thing else go well. Who, tell me, would overlook the most important things, to attend to those which are less so? And yet, alas! this is in every case our feeling. Yes, if we have a son, we concern ourselves not how he may be made virtuous, but how we may get him a rich wife;* not how he may be well-mannered, but well-monied: if we follow a business, we enquire not how it may be clear of sin, but how it may bring us in most profit. And money is become every thing; and thus is every thing corrupted and ruined, because that passion possesses us.

Ver. 28. So ought men to love their wives, saith he, as their own bodies.

What, again, means this? To how much greater a similitude, and stronger example has he come; and not only so, but also to how much nearer and clearer an one, and to a fresh obligation. For that other one was of no very constraining force. And so, that no one may say, ‘but He was Christ, and was God, and gave Himself,’ he next conducts his argument on a fresh ground,* saying, so ought men; because the thing is not a favour, but a debt. Then after saying, as their own bodies, he adds,

Ver. 29. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it.

That is, tends it with exceeding care. And how is she his flesh? Hearken; This now is bone of my bone, saith Adam, and flesh of my flesh.* And not only so, but also, they shall be, saith God, one flesh*.

Even as Christ the Church. Here he returns to the former example.

Ver. 30. For we are members of His body, of His flesh and of His bones.

How so?* In that He was made of our substance, as Eve also was made flesh from the flesh of Adam. And well does he make mention of bones and flesh; for these are principal things about us, our flesh and bones. The one being laid underneath as a sort of foundation, the other as a superstructure.* However it is clear as to the former case, but how can this latter be? As in that case, there is so close a relation, so, he would say, is there also here. What means,* of His flesh? It means, really from Him. And how are we thus members of Christ? In that we have been begotten after Him. And how of His flesh? Ye know, as many as partake of the Mysteries. For from Him are we at once created anew. And how? Hear again this blessed saint, where he saith, Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the same.* Only here He imparts to us, not we to Him. How then are we of His flesh and of His bones? Some say that it is the blood and the water are meant, but it is not so. But what he means to express is this, that like as, without conjugal union, He was begotten of the Holy Ghost, so also are we begotten in the Laver. Mark, how many are the examples, to establish the faith of that conception. Oh, the madness of the heretics! That which is once born of water,* whatever it is that is born, that they confess to be a true birth;* but that we are made His body, that they admit not. And yet if we do not become so, how will the expression, of His flesh and of His bones, suit? But mark. Adam was created, Christ was born. From Adam’s side entered in corruption. From the side of Christ welled forth life. In Paradise sprang up death, in His Cross was effected its destruction. As then the Son of God is of our nature, so are we of His substance; and as He hath us in Himself, so also have we Him in us.

Ver. 31. For this cause shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh.

Behold again a third ground of obligation; for he shews that a man leaving them that begat him, and from whom he was born, is knit to his wife; and that then the one flesh is, father, and mother, and the child, formed from the union of the two. For indeed by that union is the child produced, so that the three are one flesh.* Thus then are we in relation to Christ; we become one flesh by participation, and we much more than the child. And why and how so? Because so it has been from the beginning.

Tell me not she is such a character, or such a character. Seest thou not that we have in our own flesh itself many defects? For one man, for instance, is lame, another has his feet distorted, another his hands withered, another some other member weak; and yet nevertheless he does not grieve at it, nor cut it off, but oftentimes prefers it even to the other. Naturally enough; for it is part of himself. As great therefore as is the love which each entertains towards himself, so great is that which he would have us entertain towards a wife. Not because we partake of the same nature; no, this ground of duty towards a wife is far greater than that; it is that there are not two bodies but one; he the head, she the body. And how saith he elsewhere, and the Head of Christ is God?* This I too say, that as we are one body, so also are Christ and the Father One. And thus then is the Father also found to be our Head. He sets down two examples, that of the natural body, and that of Christ’s body. And hence he further adds,

Ver. 32. This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the Church.

What is this? A great mystery, he says, it is; that it was something great and wonderful, the blessed Moses, or rather God, intimated. For the present, however, saith he, I speak regarding Christ, both that He left the Father and came down, and came to the Bride, and became one Spirit. For he that is joined unto the Lord is one Spirit.* And well saith he, it is a great mystery. And then as though he were saying, ‘But still nevertheless the allegory does not destroy affection,’ he adds,

Ver. 33. Nevertheless, let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband.

For indeed, in very deed, a mystery it is, yea, a great mystery, that a man should leave him that gave him being, him that begat him, and that brought him up, and her that travailed with him and had sorrow, those who have bestowed upon him so many and great benefits, those with whom he has been in familiar intercourse, and be joined to one whom he never even saw, and who bears no relation to him, and should honour her before all others; a mystery it is indeed. And yet are parents not only not distressed when these events take place, but rather, when they do not take place; and are delighted when their wealth is spent and lavished upon it.—A great mystery indeed! and one that contains some hidden wisdom. Such Moses prophetically shewed it to be from the very first; such now also Paul proclaims it, where he saith, concerning Christ and the Church.

However not for the husband’s sake alone it is thus said, but for the wife’s sake also, that he cherish her as his own flesh, as Christ also the Church, and, that the wife reverence her husband. He is no longer setting down the duties of love only, but what? That she reverence her husband.* The wife is a second authority; let not her then demand equality, for she is under the head; nor let him despise her as being in subjection, for she is the body; and if the head despise the body, it will itself also perish. But let him bring in love as a counterpoise to obedience; as is the case with the head and the body; the body yielding the hands, the feet, and all the rest of the members for service, the head providing for the body, and containing all feeling in itself. Nothing can be better than this union.

And yet how can there ever be love, one may say, where there is fear? It will exist there, I say, preeminently. For she that fears and reverences, loves also; and she that loves, fears and reverences him as being the head, and loves him as being a member, since the head itself is a member of the body at large. Hence he places the one in subjection, and the other in authority, that there may be peace; for where there is equality of ranks there can never be peace; neither where a house is a democracy, nor where all are rulers; but the ruling power must of necessity be one. And this is universally the case with matters referring to the body, inasmuch as when men are spiritual, there will be peace. There were five thousand souls, and not one of them said, that ought of the things which he possessed was his own,* but they were subject one to another; an indication this of wisdom, and of the fear of God. The principle of love, however, he explains; that of fear he does not. And mark, how on that of love he enlarges, stating the arguments relating to Christ and those relating to one’s own flesh; the words, For this cause shall a man leave his father and his mother.* Whereas upon those drawn from fear he forbears to enlarge. And why so? Because he would rather that this prevail, this, namely, of love; for where this exists, every thing else follows of course, but where the other exists, not necessarily. For the man who loves his wife, even though he have not one extraordinarily tractable, still will bear with every thing. So difficult and impracticable is unanimity, where persons are not bound together by that love which is founded in supreme authority; at all events, fear will not necessarily effect this. Accordingly, he dwells the more upon this, which is the strong tie. And the wife who might seem to be the loser in that she was charged to fear is the gainer, because the principal duty, love, is charged upon the husband. ‘But what,’ one may say, ‘if a wife reverence me not?’ Never mind, thou art to love, fulfil thine own duty. For though others do not do theirs of course, we ought of course to do ours. For instance, he says, submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.* And what then if another submit not himself? Still obey thou the law of God. Just so, I say, is it also here. Let the wife at least, though she be not loved, still reverence notwithstanding, that nothing may lie at her door; and let the husband, though his wife reverence him not, still shew her love notwithstanding, that he himself be not wanting in any point. For each has received his own.

This then is a marriage according to Christ, a spiritual marriage, and a spiritual offspring, not of blood, nor of travail. Such also was that of Isaac. Hear how the Scripture saith, And it ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women.* Yea, a marriage it is, not of passion, nor of the flesh, but wholly spiritual, the soul united to God by an union unspeakable, and which He alone knoweth. Therefore he saith, He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit.* Mark how earnestly he endeavours to unite both flesh with spirit, and spirit with spirit. And where are the heretics? Never surely, if marriage were a thing to be condemned, would he have called Christ and the Church a bride and bridegroom; never would he have brought forward by way of exhortation the words, A man shall leave his father and his mother;* and again have added, that it was spoken concerning Christ and the Church. For of her it is that the Psalmist also saith, Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear, forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house. So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty.* Therefore also Christ saith, I came forth from the Father, and am come.* But when I say, that He left the Father, imagine not such a thing as takes place among men, a change of place; for just in the same way as the word go forth is used, not because He literally came forth, but because of His incarnation, so also is the expression, ‘He left the Father.’

Now why did he not say of the wife as well as of the husband, she shall be joined unto her husband? Why, I say, is this? Because he was discoursing concerning love, and was discoursing to the husband. For to her indeed he discourses concerning reverence, and says, the husband is the head of the wife,* and again, Christ is the Head of the Church. Whereas to him he discourses concerning love, and commits to him this province, and charges him with the love, thus rivetting him and cementing him to her. For the man that leaves his father for the sake of his wife, and then again, leaves this very wife herself and forsakes her, what forbearance can he deserve?

Seest thou not how great a share of honour God would have her enjoy, in that he hath taken thee away from thy father, and hath linked thee to her? What then, a man may say, if our duty is done, and yet she does not follow the example? But if the unbelieving depart, let him depart; a brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases.*

However, when thou hearest of fear, demand that fear which becomes a free woman, not as though thou wert exacting it of a slave. No, she is thine own body; and if thou do this, thou reproachest thyself in dishonouring thine own body. And of what nature is this fear? It is the not contradicting, the not rebelling, the not being fond of the preeminence. It is enough that fear be kept within these bounds. But if thou love, as thou art commanded, thou wilt make it yet greater. Or rather it will not be any longer by fear that thou wilt be doing this, but love itself will have its effect. The sex in a manner is but weak, and needs much support, much condescension.

But what however will they say, who are knit together in second marriages?* I speak not at all in condemnation of them, God forbid; for the Apostle himself permits them.

However, supply her with every thing, and with even an excess of condescension.* Do every thing and endure trouble for her sake. Necessity is laid upon thee.

Here he does not think it right to introduce his counsel, as he in many cases does, with examples from them that are without. That of Christ, so great and forcible, were alone enough; and more especially as regards the argument of subjection. A man shall leave, he saith, his father and his mother. Behold, this then is from without. But he does not say, and shall dwell with, but shall be joined unto, thus shewing the closeness of the union, and the fervent love. Nay, he is not content with this, but further by what he adds, he explains the subjection in such a way as that the twain appear no longer twain. They shall be, he does not say, ‘one spirit,’ he does not say ‘one soul,’ (for that is manifest, and is possible to any one,) but so as to be one flesh. She is a second authority, possessing indeed an authority, and a considerable equality of dignity; but at the same time the husband has somewhat of superiority. In this consists most chiefly the well-being of the house. For he took that former argument, the example of Christ, to shew that we ought not only to love, but also to govern; that she may be, saith he, holy and without blemish. But the word flesh has reference to love—and the word shall be joined, has in like manner reference to love. For if thou shalt make her holy and without blemish, every thing else will follow. Seek the things which are of God, and those which are of man will follow readily enough. Govern thy wife, and thus will the whole house be in harmony. Hear what Paul saith. And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their own husbands at home.* If we thus regulate our own houses, we shall be also fit for the management of the Church. For indeed a house is a little Church.* Thus is it possible for us by becoming good husbands and wives, to surpass all others.

Consider Abraham, and Sarah, and Isaac, and the three hundred and eighteen born in his house.* How the whole house was harmoniously knit together, how full was the whole of piety. She also fulfilled the Apostolic injunction, and reverenced her husband; for hear her own words, It hath not yet happened unto me even until now, and my lord is old also.* And he again so loved her, that in all things he obeyed her commands. And the young child was virtuous, and the servants born in the house, they too were so excellent, that they refused not even to hazard their lives with their master; they delayed not, nor asked the reason. Nay, one of them, the chief, was so admirable, that he was even entrusted with the marriage of the only-begotten child, and with a journey into a foreign country. For just as with a general, when his soldiery also is well organized, the enemy has no quarter to attack; so, I say, is it also here: when husband and wife and children and servants are all interested in the same things, great is the harmony of the house. Since where this is not the case, the whole is oftentimes overthrown and broken up by one bad servant; and that single one will often sweep away and mar the whole.

There is also another ground of petty jealousy.* Let no body claim too much service of the servants, neither the husband from the maid-servant, nor the wife from the man-servant. For these things also are enough to beget suspicion. For consider, I say, that righteous household I spoke of. Sarah herself bade the patriarch take Hagar. She herself directed it, no one compelled her, nor did the husband attempt it; no although he had dragged on so long a period childless, yet he chose rather never to become a father, than to pain his wife. And yet even after all this, what said Sarah? The Lord judge between me and thee.* Now, I say, had he been any one else, would he not have been moved to anger? Would he not also have stretched forth his hand, saying as it were, ‘What sayest thou? I had no desire to have any thing to do with the woman; it was all thine own doing; and dost thou turn again and accuse me?’—But no, he says nothing of the sort;—but what? Behold, thy maid is in thy hand; do to her as it pleaseth thee.* He delivered up the partner of his bed, that he might not grieve Sarah. And yet surely is there nothing greater than this as regards affection. For if partaking of the same table produces unanimity even in robbers towards their foes, (and the Psalmist saith, Who didst eat sweet food at the same table with me;)* much more will the becoming one flesh—for such is the being the partner of the bed—be of necessity effectual to attach us. Yet did none of these things avail to overcome the just man; but he delivered Hagar up to his wife, to shew that nothing had been done by his own fault. Nay, and what is more, he sent her forth with child. Who would not have pitied one who had conceived a child by himself? Yet was the just man unmoved, for he set before every thing else the love he owed his wife.

Let us then imitate him ourselves. Let no one reproach his neighbour with his poverty; let no one be in love with money; and then all difficulties will be at an end.

Neither let a wife say to her husband, ‘Unmanly coward that thou art, full of sluggishness and dulness, and fast asleep! here is such an one, a low man, and of low parentage, who runs his risks, and makes his voyages, and has made a good fortune; and his wife wears her jewels, and goes out with her pair of milk-white mules, she rides about every where, she has troops of slaves, and a swarm of eunuchs, whilst thou art cowering down, and living to no purpose.’ Let not a wife say these things, nor any thing like them. For she is the body, not to dictate to the head, but to submit herself and obey. ‘But how,’ she will say, ‘is she to endure poverty? Where is she to look for consolation?’ Let her select and put beside her those who are poorer still. Let her again consider how many noble and high-born maidens have not only received nothing of their husbands, but have even given dowries to them, and have spent their all upon them. Let her reflect on the perils which attend such riches,* and she will be well content with this retired life. Yes, and on the whole, if she is affectionately disposed towards her husband, she will utter nothing of the sort. No, she will rather choose to have him at her side gaining nothing, than gaining ten thousand talents of gold, accompanied with that care and anxiety which ever arise to wives from those distant voyages.

Neither, however, let the husband, when he hears these things, on the score of his having the supreme authority, betake himself to revilings and to blows; but let him exhort, let him admonish her, as being less perfect, let him over-persuade her with arguments. Let him never once lift his hand,—far be this from a noble spirit,—no, nor give expression to insults, or taunts, or revilings; but let him regulate and direct her as being wanting in wisdom. Yet how shall this be done? If she shall be instructed in the true riches,* the heavenly wisdom, she will make no complaints like these. Let him teach her then, that poverty is no evil. Let him teach her, not by what he says only, but also by what he does. Let him teach her to despise glory; and then his wife will speak of nothing, and will desire nothing of the kind. Let him, as if he had an image given into his hands to mould, let him, from that very evening on which he first receives her into the bridal chamber, teach her temperance, gentleness, and how to live modestly, casting down the love of money at once from the outset, and from the very threshold. Let him discipline her in wisdom, and persuade her never to have bits of gold hanging at her ears, and down her cheeks, and laid round about her neck, nor laid up about the chamber, nor gold and costly tissues stored up. But let her dress be handsome,* still let not what is handsome deviate into finery.* No, leave these things to the people of the stage. Adorn thine house thyself with all possible neatness, so as rather to breathe an air of soberness than any other perfume. For hence will arise two or three good results. First then, the bride will not be grieved, when the apartments are opened,* and the tissues, and the golden ornaments, and silver vessels, are sent back to their several owners. Next, the bridegroom will have no anxiety about the loss, nor for the security of the accumulated treasures. Thirdly again, in addition to this, which is the crown of all these benefits, by these very points he will be shewing his own judgment, that indeed he has no pleasure in any of these things, and that he will moreover put an end to every thing else in keeping with them, and will never so much as allow the existence either of dances, or of immodest songs. I am aware that I shall appear perhaps ridiculous to many persons, in laying down laws on such points. Still nevertheless, if ye will but listen to me, as time goes on, and ye shall reap the benefit of the practice, then ye will understand the advantage of it. And the laughter will pass off, and ye will laugh at the present fashion, and will see that the practice now is really that of silly children and of drunken men. Whereas what I recommend is the part of soberness, and wisdom, and of the sublimest way of life. What then do I say is our duty? Strip marriage of all those shameful, those Satanic strains, those immodest songs, those parties of profligate young men, and this will avail to chasten the spirit of thy bride.* For she will at once thus reason with herself; ‘Wonderful! What a man is this? He is a philosopher; he regards the present life as nothing, he has brought me here into his house, to be a mother, to bring up his children, to keep his house.’ ‘Yes, but these are distasteful thoughts to a bride? Just for the first or second day;—but not afterwards; nay, she will even reap from them the greatest delight, and relieve herself of all suspicion.* For a man who can endure neither pipers, nor dancers, nor broken songs, and that too at the very time of his wedding, that man will scarcely endure ever to do a foul deed, or to say a foul word. And then after this, when thou hast stripped the marriage of all these things, then take her, and form and mould her carefully, humouring on her bashfulness to a considerable length of time, and not destroying it suddenly. For even if the damsel be rather bold, yet for a time she will keep silence out of reverence for her husband, and feeling herself a novice in the circumstances. Thou then break not off this reserve too hastily, as intemperate husbands do, but encourage it for a length of time. For this will be a great advantage to thee. Meanwhile she will not complain, she will not find fault with any laws thou mayest frame for her. During that time therefore, during which shame, like a sort of bridle laid upon the soul, suffers her not to make any murmur, nor to complain of what is done, lay down all thy laws. For as soon as ever she acquires boldness, she will overturn and confound every thing with full security. When is there then another time so advantageous for forming a wife, as that during which she reverences her husband, and is still timid, and still shy? Then lay down all thy laws, and willing or unwilling, she will certainly obey them. But how shalt thou help spoiling her modesty? By shewing her that thou thyself art no less modest than she is, addressing to her but few words, and those too with great gravity and collectedness. Then entrust her with the discourses of wisdom, for her soul will receive them. And establish her in that loveliest habit, I mean modesty. If ye will, I will also tell you by way of specimen, what sort of language should be addressed to her. For if Paul shrank not from saying, Defraud not one another,* and spoke the language of a bridesmaid, or rather not of a bridesmaid, but of a spiritual soul, much more will not we shrink from speaking. What then is the language we ought to address to her? With great delicacy then we may say to her, ‘I have taken thee, my child, to be partner of my life, and have brought thee in to share with me in the most honourable and closest ties, in my children, and the superintendence of my house. And what advice then shall I now recommend thee?’ But rather, first talk with her affectionately; for there is nothing that so contributes to persuade a hearer to admit the things that are said, as to be assured that they are said with hearty affection. How then art thou to shew that affection? By saying, ‘when it was in my power to take many to wife, both with better fortunes, and of noble family, yet I was enamoured of thee, and thy conversation, thy modesty, thy gentleness, and soberness of mind.’ Then immediately from these beginnings open the way to your discourse on true wisdom, and with some circumlocution make a protest against riches. For if you direct your argument all at once against riches, you will disgust her; but if you do it by taking an occasion, you will succeed entirely. For you will appear to be doing it in the way of defence, not as a morose sort of person, and forbidding, and over nice about trifles. But when you take occasion from what relates to herself, she will be even pleased. You will say then, (for I must now take up the discourse again,) that ‘whereas I might have married a rich woman, and with good fortune, I could not endure it. And why so? Not capriciously, and at random; but I was taught well and truly, that money is no real possession, but a most despicable thing, a thing which moreover belongs as well to thieves, and to harlots, and to plunderers of graves. So I gave up these things, and went on till I fell in with the excellence of thy soul, which I value above all gold. For a young damsel who is discreet and ingenuous, and whose heart is set on piety, is worth the whole world. For these reasons then, I courted thee, and I love thee, and prefer thee to my own soul. For the present life is nothing. And I pray, and beseech, and do all I can, that we may be counted worthy so to live in this present life, as that we may be able hereafter also in the world to come to be united to one another in perfect security. For our time here is brief and fleeting. But if we shall be counted worthy so to spend this life, and to be well-pleasing to God, then shall we ever be both with Christ and with each other, with more abundant pleasure. I value thy affection above all things, and nothing is so bitter or so painful to me, as ever to be at variance with thee. Yes, though it should be my lot to lose my all, and to become poorer than Irus, and undergo the extremest hazards, and suffer I know not what, all will be tolerable and endurable, so long as thy feelings are true towards me. And then will my children be most dear to me, whilst thou art affectionately disposed towards me. But thou must do these duties too.’ Then mingle also with your discourse the Apostle’s sayings, that ‘thus God would have our affections blended together; for listen to the Scripture, which saith, For this cause shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall be joined unto his wife. Let us have no pretext for narrow-minded jealousy.* Perish riches, and retinue of slaves, and all your outward pomps. To me this is more valuable than all.’ What weight of gold, what amount of treasures, are so dear to a wife as these words? Never fear that thy beloved one will ever rave against thee. No, she will own that thou lovest her. For courtezans indeed, who now attach themselves to one and now to another, would naturally enough be exasperated against their lovers, should they hear such expressions as these; but a free-born wife or a noble damsel would never be exasperated with such words; no, she will be so much the more subdued. Shew her too, that you set a high value on her company, and that you are more desirous to be at home for her sake, than in public places. And esteem her before all your friends, and above the children that are born of her, and let these very children be beloved by thee for her sake. If she does any good act, praise and admire it; if any foolish one, and such as girls may chance to do, advise and admonish.* Condemn up and down all riches and extravagance, and gently point out the ornament that there is in neatness and in modesty; and be continually teaching her what is expedient.

Let your prayers be common. Let each go to Church; and let the husband ask his wife at home, and she again ask her husband, the account of the things which were said and read there. If any poverty should overtake you, allege those holy men, Paul and Peter, who were more glorious than any kings or rich men; and yet how did they spend their lives, yea, in hunger and in thirst. Teach her that there is nothing in life terrible, save only offending against God. If any marry thus, marry with these views, he will be but little inferior to solitaries;* the married but little below the unmarried.

If thou hast a mind to give dinners, and to make entertainments, invite no immodest, no disorderly person; but if thou shouldest find any poor saint able to bless your house, able only just by setting his foot in it to bring in the whole blessing of God, invite him. And I would say moreover another thing. Let no one of you make it his endeavour to marry a rich woman, but much rather a poor one. When she comes in, she will not bring so sure a source of pleasure from her riches, as she will annoyance from her taunts, from her demanding more than she brought, from her insolence, her extravagance, her vexatious language. For she will say perhaps, ‘I have not yet spent any thing of thine, I am still wearing my own apparel, bought with what my parents settled upon me.’ What sayest thou, O woman? Still wearing thine own! And what can be more miserable than this language? Why, thou hast no longer a body of thine own, and hast thou money of thine own? After marriage ye are no longer twain, but are become one flesh, and are then your possessions twain, and not one? Oh! that love of money! Ye both are become one man, one living creature; and dost thou still talk of ‘mine own?’ Cursed and unhallowed word that it is, the devil introduced it. Things far nearer and dearer to us than these hath God made all common to us, and are these then not common? We cannot say, ‘my own light, my own sun, my own water:’ all our greater blessings are common, and are riches not so? Perish the riches ten thousand times over! Or rather not the riches, but those tempers of mind which know not how to make use of riches, and yet esteem them above all things.

Teach her these lessons also with the rest, but with all the attractiveness thou canst. For since the recommendation of virtue has in itself much that is stern, and especially to a young and tender damsel, whenever discourses on true wisdom are to be made, devise every method to make them attractive. And above all banish this notion from her soul, of ‘mine and thine.’ If she say the word ‘mine,’ say unto her, ‘What things dost thou call thine? For in truth I know not; I have nothing of mine own. How then speakest thou of ‘mine,’ when all things are thine? Freely grant her the word. Dost thou not perceive that such is our practice with children? When, whilst we are holding any thing, a child snatches it, and wishes again to get hold of the other thing, we allow it, and say, ‘Yes, and this is thine, and that is thine.’ The same also let us do with a wife; for her temper is more or less like a child’s; and if she says, ‘mine,’ say, ‘why all are thine, and I am thine.’ Nor is the expression one of flattery, but of exceeding wisdom. Thus wilt thou be able to abate her wrath, and put an end to her disappointment. For it is flattery when a man does an unworthy act with an evil object: whereas this is the highest philosophy. Say then, ‘even I am thine, my little child; this advice Paul gives me where he says, The husband hath no power over his own body, but the wife.* If I have no power over my body, but thou hast, much more hast thou over my possessions.’ By saying these things thou wilt be setting her at rest, thou wilt have quenched the fire, thou wilt have shamed the devil, thou wilt have made her more thy slave than one bought with money, with this language thou wilt have bound her as with a spell. Thus then, by thine own language, teach her never to speak of ‘mine and thine.’ And again, never call her simply by her name, but with terms of endearment, with honour, with exceeding affection. Honour her, and she will not need honour from others; she will not want the glory that comes from others, if she enjoys that which comes from thee. Prefer her before all, on every account, both for her beauty, and her discernment, and extol her. Thus wilt thou persuade her to give heed to none that are without, but to scorn all the world except thyself. Teach her the fear of God, and all things will flow in smoothly to thee as from a fountain, and the house will be full of ten thousand blessings. If we seek the things that are incorruptible, these corruptible things will follow. For, saith He, seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you.* What sort of persons, think you, must the children of such parents be? What the servants of such masters? What all others who come near them? Will not they too eventually be loaded with blessings out of number? For generally the servants also have their characters formed after their master’s, and are fashioned after their humours, love the same objects, which they have been taught to love, speak the same language, and engage with them in the same pursuits. If thus we regulate ourselves, and attentively study the Scriptures, in most things we shall derive instruction from them. And thus shall be able to please God, and to pass through the whole of the present life virtuously, and to attain those blessings which are promised to those that love him, of which God grant that we may all be counted worthy, through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, power, and honour, now, and ever, through all ages.

Homily XXI

As a man in forming a body, places the head first, after that the neck, then the feet, so does the blessed Paul proceed in his discourse. He has spoken of the husband, he has spoken of the wife, the second authority, he now goes on by gradual advances to the third rank:—which is that now before us, of children. For as the husband has authority over the wife, so have the husband and the wife over the children. Now then mark what he is saying.

Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is the first coymnandment with promise.

Here he has not a word of discourse concerning Christ, not a word on high subjects, for he is as yet addressing his discourse to tender understandings. And it is for this reason, moreover, that he makes his exhortation short, inasmuch as children cannot follow up a long argument. For this reason also he does not discourse at all about a kingdom, (because this age is not qualified to hear these subjects,) but he says those things which an infant soul most especially longs to hear, that it shall live long. For if any one shall enquire why it is that he omitted to discourse concerning a kingdom, but set before them the commandment laid down in the law, we will answer, that it is because he speaks to them as infantine, and because he is well aware that if the husband and the wife are thus disposed according to the law which he has laid down, there will be but little trouble in securing the submission of the children. For whenever any matter has a good and sound and orderly principle and foundation, every thing will thenceforward go on with method and regularity, with all possible facility: the difficulty is, to settle the foundation, to lay down a firm basis. Children, saith he, obey your parents in the Lord, that is, according to the Lord. This, he means to say, is what God commands you. But what then if they shall command foolish things? Generally then, a father, however foolish he may be himself, does not give foolish instructions. However, even in that case, the Apostle has guarded the matter, by saying, in the Lord; that is, wherever you will not be offending against God. So that if the father be a gentile or an heretic, we ought no longer to obey, because obedience is not then in the Lord. But how is it that he says, Which is the first commandment. For the first is, “Thou shalt not commit adultery;—Thou shalt not kill.”* He does not speak of it then as in rank first, but in respect of the promise. For upon those others there is no reward annexed, as being enacted with reference to evil things, and to departure from evil things. Whereas in these others, where there is the practice of good, there is further a promise held out. And observe how admirable a foundation he has laid for the path of virtue, when he places it in honour and reverence towards parents. And with reason. When he would lead us away from wicked practices, and is just about to enter upon virtuous ones, this is the first thing he enjoins, honour, I say, towards parents; inasmuch as they before all others are, after God, the authors of our being, and thus they would naturally be the first to reap the fruits of our right actions; and then all the rest of mankind. For if a man have not this, he will never be gentle towards those unconnected with him.

However, having given the necessary injunctions to children, he passes to the fathers, and says,

Ver. 4. And ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath; but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

He does not say, ‘love them,’ because to this, nature draws them even against their own will, and it were superfluous to lay down a law on such subjects. But what is his expression. Provoke not your children to wrath, as many do, cutting them off from their inheritance, and expelling them from their houses, and treating them overbearingly, not as free, but as slaves. This is why he says, Provoke not your children to wrath. Then, which is the chief thing of all, he shews how they will be in subordination, referring the whole source of it to the head and chief authority. And in the same way as he has shewn the husband to be the source of the wife’s subordination, (which is the reason also why he addresses the greater part of his arguments to him, advising him to attach her to him by the absolute sway of affection,) so, I say, here also, he refers the main source to him, by saying, But bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Thou seest that where there are spiritual ties, the natural ties will follow. Would you have a son obedient? From the very first bring him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Never deem it an unnecessary thing that he should be a diligent hearer of the divine Scriptures. For there the first thing he hears will be this, Honour thy father and thy mother; so that this makes for thee. Never say, this is the business of monks. Am I making a monk of him? No. There is no need he should be made a monk. Why be so afraid of a thing replete with so much advantage? Make him a Christian. For it is of all things necessary for persons in the world to be acquainted with the lessons derived from this source;* but especially for children. For it is an age full of folly; and to this folly are superadded the bad examples derived from the heathen tales, when they are there made acquainted with those heroes so admired amongst them, slaves of their passions, and cowards with regard to death; as, for example, Achilles, when he relents, when he dies for his concubine, when another gets drunk, and many other things of the sort. He requires therefore the remedies for these doctrines. How is it not absurd to send children out to trades, and to school, and to do all you can for this object, and yet, not to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord? And for this reason truly we are the first to reap the fruits, because we bring up our children to be insolent and profligate,* disobedient, and vulgar spendthrifts. Let us not then do this; no, let us listen to this blessed Apostle’s admonition. Let us bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Let us give them a pattern. Let us make them from the earliest age apply themselves to the reading of the Scriptures. Alas, that so constantly as I repeat this, I am looked upon as trifling! Still, however, I shall not cease to do my duty. Why, tell me, do ye not imitate them of old? Ye women, especially, emulate those admirable women.* Has a child been born to any one? Imitate Hannah’s example, look at what she did. She brought him up at once to the temple. Who amongst you would not rather that his son should become a Samuel once for all, than that he should be king of the whole world ten thousand times over? ‘And how,’ you will say, ‘is it possible he should become such an one?’ Why not possible? Because thou dost not choose thyself, nor committest him to the care of those who are able to make him such an one. ‘And who,’ it will be said, ‘is such an one as this?’ God. Yes, she put him into the hands of God. For Eli himself was not one of those remarkably qualified to form him; (how could he be, he who was not even able to form his own children?) No, it was the faith of the mother and her earnest zeal that wrought the same thing. He was her first child, and her only one, and she knew not whether she should ever have others besides. Yet she did not say, ‘I will wait till the child is grown up, that he may have a taste of the things of this life, I will allow him to have his pastime in them a little in his childish years.’ No, all these thoughts the woman repudiated, she was absorbed in one object, how from the very beginning she might dedicate the spiritual image to God.* Well may we men be put to the blush at the wisdom of this woman. She offered him up to God, and there she left him. And therefore was her married state more glorious, in that she had made spiritual objects her first care, in that she had dedicated the first-fruits to God. Therefore was her womb fruitful, and she obtained other children besides. And therefore she saw him honourable even in the world.* For if men when they are honoured, render honour in return, will not God much more, He who gives it, even without being honoured? How long are we to be mere lumps of flesh? How long are we to be stooping down to the earth? Let every thing be secondary with us to the provident care we should take of our children, and our bringing them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. If from the very first he is taught to be a lover of true wisdom, then he has obtained a wealth greater than all wealth, and a more imposing name. You will effect nothing so great by teaching him an art, and giving him that outward learning by which he will gain riches, as you will, if you teach him that art by which he shall despise riches. If you desire to make him a rich man, do this. For the rich man is not he who desires great riches, and is encircled with great riches; but the man who has need of nothing. Discipline your son in this, teach him this lesson. This is the greatest riches. Seek not how to give him reputation and high character in outward learning, but consider deeply how you shall teach him to despise the glory that is confined to this present life. This would render him more distinguished and more truly glorious. This it is possible for rich and poor alike to accomplish. These are lessons which a man does not learn from a master, nor by art, but by means of the divine oracles. Seek not how he shall enjoy a long life here, but how he shall enjoy a boundless and endless life hereafter. Give him great endowments, not little ones. Hear what Paul saith, Bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; study not to make him an orator, but train him up to be a philosopher. In the want of the one there will be no harm whatever; in the absence of the other, all the rhetoric in the world will be of no advantage. Tempers are wanted, not talking; heart, not cleverness; deeds, not words. These gain a man the kingdom. These confer what are benefits indeed. Whet not his tongue, but cleanse his soul. I do not say this to prevent your teaching him these things, but to prevent your attending to them exclusively. Do not imagine that the monk alone stands in need of these lessons from Scripture. Of all others, the children just about to enter into the world specially need it. For just in the same way as the man who is always at anchor in harbour, is not the man who requires his ship to be fitted out, and who wants a pilot and a crew, but he who is from time to time out at sea; so is it with the man of the world and the recluse.* The one is entered as it were into a waveless harbour, and lives an untroubled life, and far removed from every storm; whilst the other is ever on the ocean, he lives out at sea in the very midst of the ocean, and has numberless and tremendous surges to struggle with. And though he may not need it himself, still he ought to be so prepared as to stop the mouths of others.

Thus the more distinguished he is in the present life, so much the more he stands in need of this education. If he is being brought up in courts, there are many Heathens, and philosophers, and persons puffed up with the glory of this life. It is like a place full of dropsical people. Such in some sort is the court. All are, as it were, puffed up, and in a state of inflammation. And they who are not so are studying to become so. Now then reflect how vast a benefit it is, that your son on entering there, should enter like an excellent physician, furnished with instruments which may allay every one’s peculiar inflammation, and should go up to every one, and converse with him, and restore the diseased body to health, applying the remedies derived from the Scriptures, and pouring forth discourses of the true philosophy. For with whom is the recluse to converse? with his wall or his ceiling? yea, or again with the wilderness and the woods? or with the birds and the trees? He therefore has no so great need of this sort of discipline. Still, however, he makes it his business to perfect this work, not so much with a view of disciplining others as himself. There is then every need of much discipline of this sort to those that are to mix in the present world, because such an one has a stronger temptation to sin than the other. And if you have a mind to understand it, he will further be a more useful person even in the world itself. For all will have a reverence for him from these words, when they see him in the fire without being burnt, and not ambitious of authority. This he will then obtain, when he least desires it, and will be a still higher object of respect to the king; for it cannot be that such a character should be hid Amongst a number of healthy persons, indeed, a healthy man will not be noticed; but when there is one healthy man amongst a number of sick, the report will quickly spread and reach the king’s ears, and he will make him ruler over many nations. Knowing then these things, bring up your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

‘But suppose a man is poor.’ Here is the cry of poor again. Still he will be in no wise more insignificant than the man who lives in kings’ courts, because he is not in kings’ courts; no, he will be held in admiration, and will soon gain that authority which is yielded voluntarily, and not by any suffrage. For if a set of Greeks, men of small account as they are,* and dogs, by taking up that worthless philosophy of theirs,* for such the Grecian philosophy is, nay more, not taking up it, but only its mere name, and wearing the threadbare cloak, and letting their hair grow, impress many; how much more will the true philosopher? If a false appearance, if a mere shadow of philosophy at first sight so catches us, what if our affections were fixed on the true and pure philosophy? Will not all court it, and entrust both houses, and wives, and children, with full confidence to such man? But there is not, no, there is not such a philosopher existing now. And therefore, it is not possible to find an example of the sort. Amongst recluses, indeed, there are such, but amongst people in the world, certainly not. And that amongst recluses there are such, it would be possible to adduce a number of instances. However, I will mention one out of many. Ye know, doubtless, and have heard of, and some, perhaps, have also seen, the man whom I am now about to mention. I mean, the admirable Julian. This man was quite a rustic character, in humble life, and of humble parentage, and totally uninstructed in all outward accomplishments, but full of unadorned wisdom. When he came into the cities, (and this was but rarely,) never, not when orators, or sophists, or any one else rode in, did such a concourse take place. But what am I saying? Is not his very name more glorious than that of any king’s, and celebrated even to this day? And if these things were in this world, in the world in which the Lord promised us no one good thing, in which He hath told us we are strangers, let us think how great will be the blessings laid up for us in the heavens. If, where they were sojourners they enjoyed so great honour, how great glory shall they enjoy where are their cities! If, where He promised tribulation, they meet with such attentive care, how great shall be that rest, where He promiseth the true honours!

And now would ye have me exhibit examples of secular men?* At present, indeed, I have none; still there are perhaps even secular men who are excellent, though not arrived at the highest philosophy. I shall therefore quote you examples from them of old time and from the saints. How many, who had wives to keep and children to bring up, were inferior in no respect, no, in no respect to those who have been mentioned? Now, however, it is no longer so, because of the present distress,* as this blessed Apostle saith. Now then whom would ye have me mention? Noah, or Abraham? The son of the one or of the other? Or again, Joseph? Or would ye have me go to the Prophets? Moses I mean, or Isaiah? However, if you will, let us carry our discourse to Abraham, whom all are continually bringing forward to us above all others. Had he not a wife? Had he not children? Yes, for I too use the same language to you, as you do to me. He had a wife, but it was not because he had a wife that he was so remarkable. He had riches, but it was not because he had riches that he pleased God. He begat children, but it was not because he begat children that he was pronounced blessed. He had three hundred and eighteen servants born in his house, but it was not on this account that he was reverenced. But would you know why it was? It was for his hospitality, for his contempt of riches, for his chastened temper. For what, tell me, is the duty of a philosopher? Is it not to despise both riches and glory? Is it not to be above both envy and every other passion? Come now then, let us bring him forward and strip him, and shew you what a philosopher he was. First of all, he thought nothing of his country. He heard the command, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred,* and immediately went forth. He was not bound to his house, (or surely he would never have gone forth,) nor to his love of familiar friends, nor to any thing else whatever. Then, glory and money he despised above all others. For when he had put an end to war by turning the enemy to flight, and was requested to take the spoil, he rejected it.

Again, the son of this great man was reverenced, not because of his riches, but for his hospitality: not because of his children, but for their obedience: not because of his wife, but for the barrenness inflicted on account of his wife.*

They looked upon the present life as nothing, they followed not after gain, they despised all things. Tell me, which sort of plants are the best? Are not those which have home-born strength, and are injured neither by rains, nor by hailstorms, nor by gusts of wind, nor by any other vicissitude of the sort, but stand naked and exposed in defiance of them all, and needing neither wall nor fence to protect them? Such is the true philosopher, such is that wealth of which we spoke. He has nothing, and has all things: he has all things, and has nothing. For a fence is not within, but only without; a wall is not natural, but only built round from without. And what again, I ask, what sort of body is a strong one? Is it not that which is in health, and which is affected neither by hunger nor repletion, nor by cold, nor by heat; or is it that which is subject to all these things, and needs both caterers, and embroiderers, and hunters, and physicians, to give it health? He is the rich man, the true philosopher, who needeth none of these things. For this cause it was that this blessed Apostle said, Bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Surround them not with outward defences. For such is wealth, such is glory; for when these fall, as fall they must, the plant stands naked and defenceless, not only in no wise benefitted during the time past, but even injured. For those very shelters that prevented its being inured to the attacks of the winds, will now have prepared it for perishing all at once. And so wealth is injurious rather, because it renders us undisciplined for the vicissitudes of life. Let us therefore train up our children to be such, as that they shall be able to bear up against every trial, and not to be surprised at what may come upon them; let us bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. And great will be the reward which will be thus laid up in store for us. For if men that make statues and paint portraits of kings receive so great distinction, shall not we who adorn the image of the King of kings, (for man is the image of God,) receive ten thousand blessings, if we effect a true likeness? For the likeness is in this, in the virtue of the soul, when we train our children to be virtuous, to be meek, to be forgiving, (because all these are attributes of God,) to be beneficent, to be humane, when we train them to regard the present world as nothing. Let this then be our task, to mould and to direct both ourselves and them to what is right. For with what sort of boldness shall we stand before the judgment-seat of Christ? If a man who has unruly children is unfit to be a Bishop,* much more is he unfit for the kingdom of Heaven. What sayest thou? If we have an unruly wife, or unruly children, shall we have to render account? Yes, we shall, unless we can render our own account with exactness; for our own individual virtue is not enough in order to salvation. If the man who omitted to put out the one talent gained nothing, and yet was punished even then, it is plain that one’s own individual virtue is not enough in order to salvation, but there is need of that of another also. Let us therefore entertain great solicitude for our wives, and take great care of our children, and of our servants, and of ourselves. And in our government both of ourselves and of them, let us beseech God that He aid us in the work. If He shall see us interested in this work, and solicitous about it, He will aid us; but if He shall see us paying no regard to it, He will not give us His hand. For He does not vouchsafe us His assistance when we sleep, but when we labour also ourselves. For a helper, (as the name implies,) is not a helper of one that is inactive, but of one who works also himself. But the good God is able of Himself to bring the work to perfection, that we may be all counted worthy to attain to the blessings promised us, through the grace and loving-kindness of Jesus Christ our Lord, with Whom together with the Holy Ghost be unto the Father, glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and throughout all ages.

Homily XXII

Thus then it is not husband only, nor wife, nor children, but virtuous servants also that contribute to the consistency and protection of a house. Therefore the blessed Paul has not overlooked this department. He comes to it, however, in the last place, because it is last in importance. Still he addresses much discourse also to them, no longer in the same tone as to children, but in a far more advanced way, inasmuch as he does not hold out to these the promise in this world, but in that which is to come. Knowing, saith he, that whatsoever good or evil thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, and thus at once instructs them to love wisdom. For though they be inferior to the children in dignity, still in spirit they are superior to them.

Servants, saith he, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh.

Thus at once he raises up, at once sooths the wounded soul. Be not grieved, he seems to say, that you are inferior to the wife and the children. Slavery is nothing but a name. The mastership is according to the flesh, brief and temporary; whatever is of the flesh, is transitory.

With fear, he adds, and trembling.

Thou seest that he does not require the same fear from servants as from wives: for in that case he simply said, and let the wife see that she fear her husband; whereas in this case he heightens the expression, with fear, he saith, and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ. This is constantly his language. What meanest thou, blessed Paul? He is a brother, he enjoys the same privileges, he belongs to the same body. Yea, more, he is the brother, not of his own master only, but also of the Son of God, he is partaker of all the same privileges; yet sayest thou, obey your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling. Yes, for this very reason, he would say, I say it. For if I charge free men to submit themselves one to another in the fear of God,—as he said above, submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of God;*—if I charge moreover the wife to fear and reverence her husband, and yet at the same time she is his equal; much more must I so speak to the servant. It is no sign of low birth, rather it is the truest nobility, to understand how to lower ourselves, to be modest and unassuming, and to give way to our neighbour. And the free have served the free with much fear and trembling.

In singleness, he adds, of heart.

And it is well added, since it is possible to serve with fear and trembling, and yet not of good will, but only as far as one can. Many servants in many instances secretly cheat their masters. And this cheating accordingly he does away, by saying, in singleness of your hearts as to the Lord, not with eye-service as men-pleasers, but as servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart; with good-will doing service, as to the Lord, and not to men. Seest thou how many words he requires, in order to implant this good principle, with good-will, I mean, and from the heart? That other service, with fear and trembling, I mean, we see many rendering to their masters, and the master’s threat goes far to secure that. But shew, saith he, that thou servest as the servant of Christ, not of man. Make the right action your own, not one of compulsion. Just as in the words which follow, he persuades and instructs the man who is ill treated by another to make the right action his own, and the work of his own free choice, so here he is teaching the servant. Because inasmuch as the man that smites the cheek, is not supposed to come to that act in consequence of any intention in the person struck, but only of his own individual malice, what saith He? Turn to him the other also;* to shew him that in submitting to the first thou wert not unwilling. For he that will be lavish in suffering wrong, will make even that which is not his own act his own, by suffering himself to be smitten on the other cheek also, not merely by enduring the first blow. For this latter will have perhaps the appearance even of cowardice; the former of a high wisdom.—Thus thou wilt shew that it was for wisdom’s sake that thou borest the other also. And so in the present case, shew here too, that thou bearest this slavery also willingly, and not as a man-pleaser. He surely who is of such a character, is no servant of Christ. The servant of Christ is not a man-pleaser. For who that is the servant of God, makes it his object to please men? And who that pleases men, can be a servant of God?

From the heart, saith he, with good will doing service. He does well to speak thus; for since it is possible to do service even with singleness of heart, and not wrongfully, and yet not in any way with all one’s might, but only so far as fulfilling one’s bounden duty, therefore he says, do it with alacrity, not of necessity, upon principle, not upon constraint. If thus thou do service, thou art no slave; if thou do it upon principle, with good-will, from the heart, and for Christ’s sake. For this is the servitude that even Paul the free man serves, and exclaims, For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord, and ourselves your servants for Jesus’ sake.* Look how he divests thy slavery of its meanness. For just in the same way as the man who has lost his money, if he gives still more to him who has taken it, is not ranked among losers, but rather amongst liberal givers; not amongst those who suffer evil, but amongst those who do well; and rather clothes the other with disgrace by his liberality, than is clothed with disgrace by his loss:—so, I say, in this case, by his generosity he will appear at once more high-minded, and by shewing that he does not feel the wrong,* will put the other to shame.

Let us then do service to our masters for Christ’s sake, knowing, he continues, that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free. For inasmuch as it was probable that many masters, as being unbelievers, would have no sense of shame, and would make no return to their servants for their obedience, observe how he has given them encouragement, so that they may have no misgiving about the remuneration, but may have full confidence respecting the recompence. For as they who receive a benefit, when they make no return, make God a debtor to their benefactors; so, I say, do masters also, if, when well-treated by thee, they fail to requite thee, requite thee the more, by rendering God thy debtor.

Ver. 9. And ye masters, he continues, do the same things unto them.

The same things. What are these? With good will do service. However he does not actually say, do service, though by saying, the same things, he plainly shews this to be his meaning. For the master himself is a servant. Not as men-pleasers, he means, and with fear and trembling; that is, towards God, fearing lest He one day accuse you for your negligence towards your servants.

Forbearing threatening;* be not irritating, he means, nor oppressive.

Knowing that your Master also is in Heaven.

Ah! How mighty a Master does he hint at here! How startling the suggestion! It is this. With what measure thou metest, it shall be measured unto thee again;* lest thou hear the sentence, Thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt.*

Neither is there respect of persons, he saith, with Him.

Think not, he would say, that what is done towards a servant, He will therefore forgive, because done to a servant. Heathen laws indeed, as being the laws of men, recognize a difference between these kinds of offences. But the law of the common Lord and Master of all, as doing good to all alike, and dispensing the same rights to all, knows no such difference.

Now then should any one ask, whence is slavery? And why it has found entrance into human life, (and many I know are both glad to ask such questions, and desirous to be informed of them,) I will tell you. Slavery is the fruit of covetousness,* of extravagance, of insatiable greediness Noah, we know, had no servant, nor had Abel, nor Seth, no nor they who came after them. The thing was the fruit of sin, of rebellion against parents. Let children hearken to this, that whenever they are undutiful to their parents, they deserve to be servants. Such a child strips himself of his purity of blood; for he who rebels against his father is no longer a son; and if he who rebels against his father is not a son, how shall he be a son who rebels against our true Father? He is departing from his high birth, he is doing outrage to nature. Then come wars, and battles, and take their prisoners. Well but Abraham, you will say, had servants. Yes, but he treated them not as servants.

Observe how he makes every thing dependent upon the head; the wife, by telling him to love her; the children, by telling him to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; the servants, by the words, knowing that your Master also is in Heaven. So, saith he, ye also in like manner, as being yourselves servants, be ye kind and indulgent.

Now if ye have a mind to hearken, I shall make the same remarks concerning servants, as I have also made before concerning children. Teach them to be religious, and every thing else will follow of necessity. But now, when any one is going to the theatre, or going off to the bath, he drags all his servants after him; but when he goes to church, not for a moment, nor does he compel them to attend and hear. Now how shall thy servant listen, when thou his master art attending to other things? Hast thou purchased, hast thou bought thy slave? Before all things enjoin him what God would have him do, to be gentle towards his fellow-servants, and to make much account of virtue.

Every one’s house is a little city; and every man is a prince in his own house. That the house of the rich is of this character, is plain enough, where there are both lands, and stewards, and rulers over rulers. But I say that the house of the poor also is a city. Because here too there are offices of authority; for instance, the husband has authority over the wife, the wife over the servants, the servants again over their own wives; again, the wives and the husbands over the children. Does he not seem to you to be, as it were, a sort of king, having so many authorities under his own authority? And that it were meet that he should be more skilled both in domestic and general government than all the rest? For he who knows how to manage these in their several relations, will know how to select the fittest men for officers, yes, and will assuredly choose excellent ones. And thus the wife will be a second king in the house, excepting the diadem; and he who knows how to choose this king, will excellently regulate all the rest.

Ver. 10. Finally, my brethren, saith he, be strong in the Lord.

Whenever the discourse is about to conclude, he continually employs this turn. Said I not well from the first, that every man’s house is a camp in itself? For look, having disposed of the several offices, he proceeds to arm them, and to lead them out to war. If no one usurps the other’s office, but every one remains at his post, all will be well ordered.

Be strong, saith he, in the Lord, and in the power of His might.

That is, in the hope which we have in Him, by means of His aid. For as he had enjoined many duties, which were necessary to be done, fear not, he seems to say, cast your hope upon the Lord, and He will make all easy.

Ver. 11. And put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

He saith not, against the fightings, nor against the hostilities, but against the wiles. For this enemy is at war with us,* not simply, nor openly, but by wiles. What is a wile? To use wiles,* is to deceive and to take by artifice or contrivance; a thing which takes place both in the case of the arts, and in words, and actions, and stratagems, with those who seduce us. I mean something like this.* He never proposes to us sins in their proper colours, he does not speak of idolatry, but he sets it off in another dress,* using wiles, that is, making his discourse plausible, employing disguises. Now therefore he is by this means both rousing the soldiers, and making them vigilant, by assuring and instructing them, that our conflict is with one skilled in the art of war, and with one who wars not simply, nor openly, but with much wiliness. And first then he arouses the disciples from the consideration of his skill; but in the second place, from his nature, and the number of his forces. It is not from any desire to dispirit the soldiers that stand under him, but to arouse, and to awaken them, that he mentions these stratagems, and prepares them to be vigilant; for had he merely detailed their power, and there stopped his discourse, he must have dispirited them. But now, whereas both before and after this, he shews that it is possible to overcome even such an enemy, he rather inspirits them; for the more clearly the strength of our adversaries is stated on our part to our own people, so much the more earnest will it render our soldiers.

Ver. 12. For we wrestle not, saith he, against flesh and blood, but against principalities,* against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness, in the heavenly things.

Having stimulated them by the character of the conflict, he next goes on to arouse them also by the rewards set before them. For what is his argument? Having said that the enemies are fierce, he adds further, that they despoil us of vast blessings. What are these? The conflict lies in the heavenly things; the struggle is not about riches, not about glory, but whether we are to be slaves. And thus is the enmity irreconcilable. The strife and the conflict is fiercer when it is for vast interests at stake; for the expression, in the heavenly things, is equivalent to, ‘for the heavenly things.’ It is not that they may gain any thing by the conquest, it is that they may despoil us. As if one were to say,* ‘the contract lies in this or that;’ the word ‘in,’ means, ‘in behalf of;’ the word ‘in,’ also means, ‘on account of.’ Observe how the power of the enemy startles us; how it makes us all circumspection, to know that the hazard is on behalf of vast interests, and the victory for the sake of great rewards. Yes, it is his great effort to cast us out of Heaven.

He speaks of certain principalities, and powers, and rulers of the darkness of this world. What darkness? Is it that of night? No, but of wickedness. For we were, saith he, sometimes darkness;* so naming that wickedness which is in this present life; for beyond it, it will have no place, not in Heaven, nor in the world to come.

Rulers of the world he calls them,* not as having the mastery over the world, but as being the authors of wicked works. For the Scripture is wont to call wicked practices ‘the world,’ as, for example, where Christ saith, Ye are not of this world, even as I am not of the world.* What then, were they not of the world? Were they not clothed with flesh? Were they not of those who are in the world? And again; The world hateth Me, but you it cannot hate.* Where again He calls wicked practices by this name. Or the Apostle here by the world means wicked men, because the evil spirits have more especial power over them. Against principalities, against powers, against spiritual wickedness, saith he, in heavenly things. Principalities, and powers, he speaks of; just as in the heavenly places there are thrones and dominions, principalities and powers.*

Ver. 13. Wherefore, saith he, take unto you the whole armour of God,* that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having subdued all, to stand.

By evil day he means the present life, and calls it too this present evil world,* from the evils which are done in it. It is as much as to say, Always be armed. And again, having subdued all, saith he; that is, both passions, and vile lusts, and all things else that trouble us. He speaks not merely of doing the deed, but of completing it, so as not only to slay, but to stand also after we have slain. For many who have gained this victory, have fallen again. Having subdued, saith he, all; not having subdued one, and not another. For even after the victory, we must stand. An enemy may be struck, but things that are struck revive again. If we stand not, they are even now rising up, though fallen. So long as we stand, they are fallen. So long as we waver not, the adversary rises not again.

Let us put on the whole armour of God. Seest thou how he banishes all fear? For if it be possible to subdue all, and to stand, why shrink from the conflict? Stand when thou hast subdued, and thou hast conquered. And marvel not that he enters at so great length into the power of the enemy. The detailing of these things does not create cowardice and fear, but, it shakes off indolence. That ye may be able, he saith, to withstand in the evil day. And he further gives them encouragement too from the time; the time, he seems to say, is short, so that ye must needs stand; faint not when the slaughter is achieved.

But against us is the struggle; for hearken again to him, saying, I am persuaded, that neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of Christ.* He saith not simply, from Christ, but, from the love of Christ. For many there are who are united forsooth to Christ, and who yet love Him not. Not only, saith he, shalt thou not persuade me to deny Him, but no, not to love Him less. And if the powers above had not strength to have done this, who else should move him? Not, however, that he saith this, as though they were actually attempting it, but upon the supposition; wherefore also he said, I am persuaded. So then wrestle he did not, yet nevertheless he fears his artifices; for hear what he saith, I fear lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.* True, you will say, but he uses this word touching himself also, where he saith, For I fear lest that, by any means, when I hare preached to others, I myself should be a cast-away.* How then art thou persuaded that no one shall separate thee? Perceivest thou that the expression is that of lowliness and of humility. For he already dwelt in Heaven. And hence also it was that he said, For I know nothing by myself;* and again, I have finished my course.* So that it was not with regard to these matters that the devil placed obstacles in his way, but with reference to those of the disciples. And why forsooth? Because in these points he was not himself sole master, but also their own will. There the devil prevailed in some cases; nay, neither there was it over him that he prevailed, but over the indolence of persons who took no heed. If indeed, whether from slothfulness, or any thing else of the sort, he had failed to fulfil his own duty, then had the devil prevailed over him; but if he himself on his part did all he could, and they obeyed not, it was not over him he prevailed, but over their disobedience; and the disease prevailed not over the physician, but over the unruliness of the patient; for, when the physician takes every precaution, and the other undoes all, the patient is defeated, not the physician. Thus then in no instance did he prevail over Paul. But in our own case, it is matter for contentment that we should be so much as able to wrestle. For the Romans indeed this is not what he asks, but what? He shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly.* And for these Ephesians he invokes, Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think.* He that wrestles is still held fast, but it is enough for him that he has not fallen. When we depart hence, then, and not till then, will the glorious victory be achieved. For instance, take the case of some evil lust. The extraordinary thing would be, not to entertain it at all, but to stifle it. If, however, this be not possible, then though we may have to wrestle with it, and retain it to the last, yet if we depart still wrestling, we are conquerors. For the case is not the same here as it is with wrestlers; for there if thou throw not thy antagonist, thou hast not conquered; but here if thou be not thrown, thou hast conquered; if thou art not thrown, thou hast thrown him; and with reason, because there both strive for the victory, and when the one is thrown, the other is crowned; here, however, it is not thus, but the devil is striving for our defeat; when then I strip him of that upon which he is bent, I am conqueror. For it is not to overthrow us, but to make us share his overthrow that he is eager. Already then am I conqueror, for he is already cast down, and in a state of ruin; and his victory consists not in being himself crowned, but in effecting my ruin; so that though I overthrow him not, yet if I be not overthrown, I have conquered. What then is a glorious victory? It is, over and above, to trample him underfoot, as Paul did, by regarding the things of this present world as nothing. Let us too imitate him, and strive to become above them, and no where to give him a hold upon us. Wealth, possessions, vain-glory, give him a hold. And oftentimes indeed this will rouse him, and oftentimes will exasperate him. But what need is there of wrestling? What need of engaging with him? When a man once closes, he leaves the issue in uncertainty, whether he may not be himself defeated and captured. Whereas he that tramples him underfoot, has the victory certain.

Oh then, let us trample underfoot the power of the devil; let us trample underfoot our sins, every thing, I say, that pertains to this life, wrath, lust, vain-glory, every passion; that when we depart to that world, we may not be convicted of betraying that power which God hath given us; for thus shall we attain also to the blessings to come. But if in this we are unfaithful, who will entrust us with those things which are greater? If we were not able to trample down one who had fallen, who had been disgraced, who had been despised, who was lying beneath our feet, how shall the Father give us a Father’s rewards? If we subdue not one so placed in subjection to us, what confidence shall we have to enter into our Father’s house? For, tell me, suppose thou hadst a son, and, that he, disregarding the well-disposed part of thy household, should associate with them that have distressed thee, with them that have been expelled his father’s house, with them who spend their time at the gaming table, and that he should go on so doing to the very last; will he not be disinherited? It is plain enough he will. And so too shall we; if, disregarding the Angels who have wellpleased our Father and whom He hath set over us, we have our conversation with the devil, inevitably we shall be disinherited. But God grant that this be not the fate of any one of us; but that engaging in the war we have to wage with him, and, with the aid which is from above, having conquered, we may become heirs of the kingdom of Heaven.

If there be any that hath an enemy, any that hath been wronged by him, any that is exasperated, let him collect together all that wrath, all that fierceness, and pour it out upon the head of the devil. Here wrath is noble, here anger is profitable, here revenge is praiseworthy, for just as amongst the heathen, revenge is a vice, so truly here is revenge a virtue. So then if thou hast any failings, rid thyself of them here. And if thou art not able thyself to put them away, do it, though with thy members also. Hath any one struck thee? Bear malice against the devil, and never relinquish thy hatred towards him. Or again, hath no one struck thee? Yet bear him malice still, because he insulted, because he offended thy Lord and Master, because he injures and wars against thy brethren. With him be ever at enmity, ever implacable, ever merciless. Thus shall he be humbled, thus despicable, thus shall he be an easy prey. If we are fierce towards him, he shall never be fierce towards us. If we are compliant, then he will be fierce; it is not with him as it is with our brethren. He is the foe and enemy, both of life and salvation, both ours and his own. If he loves not himself, how shall he be able to love us? Let us then put ourselves in array and wound him, having for our mighty confederate the Lord Jesus Christ, who can both render us impregnable to his snares, and vouchsafe us the good things to come; which God grant that we may all attain, through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and throughout all ages.

Homily XXIII

Having drawn up this army, and roused their courage,—for both these things were requisite, both that they should be drawn up in array, and that their spirit should be aroused,—and having inspired them with confidence, for this was requisite also, he next proceeds also to arm them. For arms had been of no use, had they not been first arranged, each in his own place, and had not the spirit of the soldier’s soul been roused; for we must first arm him within, and then without.

Now if this is the case with the soldier of this world, much more is it with the spiritual soldier. Or rather in their case, it is not even possible to arm them without, but every thing is within. He hath roused their ardour, and set it on fire, He hath added confidence. He hath set them in due array. It remains for him now to arm them. But observe even how he puts on the armour. Stand therefore, saith he. The very first feature in tactics is, to know how to stand well, and many things will depend upon that. Hence he discourses much concerning standing, saying also elsewhere, Watch ye, stand fast.* And again, So stand fast in the Lord.* And again, Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.* And again, That ye may be able, having done all, to stand.* Doubtless then he does not mean merely any way of standing, but a correct way, and as many as have had experience in wars know how great a point it is to know how to stand. For if in the case of boxers and wrestlers, the word of command which the trainer gives before any thing else, is this, to stand firm, much more will it be the first thing in warfare, and military matters.

The man who, in a true sense, stands, is upright; he stands not in a lazy attitude, not leaning upon any thing. Exact uprightness discovers itself by the way of standing, so that they who are perfectly upright, they stand. But they who do not stand, cannot be upright, but are unstrung and disjointed. The luxurious man does not stand upright, but stoops; so does the lewd man, and the lover of money. He who knows how to stand will from his very footing, as from a sort of foundation, find every part of the conflict easy to him.

Stand therefore, saith he, having your loins girt about with truth.

He is not speaking of a palpable girdle, for all the language in this passage he employs in a spiritual sense.* And observe how methodically he proceeds. First, he girds up his soldier. What then is the meaning of this? The man that is melting away, and is dissolved in his lusts, and that has his thoughts trailing on the ground, him he braces up by means of this girdle, not suffering him to be impeded by the garments entangling his legs, but letting him run with his feet well at liberty. Stand therefore, having your loins girded, saith he. By the loins here he means this; just what the keel is in ships, the same are the loins with us, the basis or groundwork of the whole body: for they are, as it were, a foundation, and upon them as the schools of the physicians tell you, the whole frame is built.* Now then, in girding the loins, he is bracing together the soul; for he is not of course speaking of these loins of our body, but is discoursing spiritually: and as the loins are the foundation alike of the parts both above and below, so is it also in the case of these spiritual loins. Oftentimes, we know, when persons are fatigued, they put their hands there as if upon a sort of foundation, and in that manner support themselves; and for this reason it is that the girdle is used in war, that it may bind and hold together this foundation, as it were, in our frame; for this reason too it is that when we run we gird ourselves. It is this which guards our strength. Let this then, saith he, be done also with respect to the soul, and then in whatever we do, we shall have strength to do it; and it is a thing most especially becoming to soldiers.

True, you may say, but these our natural loins we gird with a leathern band; but we, spiritual soldiers, with what shall we gird ourselves? I answer, with that which is the head and crown of all our thoughts, I mean, with truth. Having your loins girt about, saith he, with truth. Let us then love nothing like falsehood, all our duties let us pursue with truth, let us not lie one to another. Whether it be an opinion, let us seek the truth, or whether it be a line of life, let us seek the true one. If we fortify ourselves with this, if we gird ourselves with truth, then shall no one overcome us. He who seeks the doctrine of truth, shall never fall down to the earth; for that the things which are not true are of the earth, is evident from this, that all they that are without are enslaved to the passions, following their own reasonings; and therefore if we are sober, we shall need no instruction in the tales of the Greeks. Seest thou how effeminate and conceited they are? incapable of entertaining one severe thought, any thing above human reasoning concerning God? Why? Because they are not girded about with truth; because their loins, the receptacle of the seed of life, and the main strength of their reasonings, are ungirt; nothing then can be weaker than these. And the Manicheans again, seest thou, how all the things they have the boldness to utter, are from their own reasonings? ‘It was impossible,’ say they, ‘for God to create the world without matter.’ Whence is this so evident? These things they say grovelling, and from the earth, and from what happens amongst ourselves; because man, they say, cannot create otherwise. Marcion again, look what he says. ‘God, if He took upon Him flesh, could not remain pure.’ Whence is this evident? ‘Because,’ says he, ‘neither can men;’ men however can. Valentinus again, with his reasonings all trailing along the ground, speaks the things of the earth; and in like manner Paul of Samosata, and Arius. For what is his dictum? ‘It was impossible for God when He begat, to beget without passion.’ Whence, Arius,* hast thou the boldness to allege this; merely from the things which take place amongst ourselves? Seest thou how the reasonings of all these trail along on the ground, all are, as it were, let loose and unconfined, and savouring of the earth? And so much then for doctrines. With regard to life and conduct, again, whoremongers, lovers of money, and of glory, and of every thing else, trail on the ground. They have not their loins themselves standing firm, so that when they are weary they may rest upon them; but when they are weary, they do not even put their hands to them and stand upright, but flag. He, however, who is girt about with the truth, first, never is weary; and secondly, if he should be weary, he will rest himself upon the truth itself. What? Will poverty, tell me, render him weary? No, in no wise; for he will repose on the true riches, and by this poverty will understand what is true poverty. Or again, will slavery make him weary? No, in no wise, for he will know what is true slavery. Or shall disease? No, nor even that. Let your loins, saith Christ, be girded about, and your lights burning,* so as to hold that light which shall never be put out. This too is what the Israelites, when they were departing out of Egypt,* were charged to do; and they ate the passover, with their loins girded. And wherefore, some one may ask, did they so eat it? Art thou desirous to hear the ground of it according to the historical fact,* and according to its mystical sense? I then will state them both, and do ye retain it in mind, for I am not doing it without an object, merely that I may tell you the solution, but also that my words may become in you reality. They had, we read, their loins girded, and their staff in their hands, and their shoes on their feet, and thus they ate the Passover. Awful and terrible mysteries, and of vast depth; and if so terrible in the type, how much more in the reality? They come forth out of Egypt, they eat the passover. Attend, their guise is that of wayfarers; for their having shoes, and staves in their hands, and their eating standing, declares nothing else than this. Will ye hear the history first, or the mystery?* Better the history first. What then is the design of the history? The Jews were ungrateful, and were continually forgetting God’s benefits to them. He therefore, designing that they should be brought even against their will to a recollection of them, ordains this form of eating the Passover. And why so? In order that having at every recurring period a necessity to keep the ordinance, they might of necessity recollect also the God who brought them out of Egypt. Accordingly then, God tied the sense of these His benefits not only to the time, but also to the very habit of them that were to eat. For this is why they were to eat girded and sandalled, that when they were asked the reason, they might say, ‘we were ready for our journey, we were just about to go forth out of Egypt to the land of promise.’ This then is the historical type. But the reality is this; we too eat a Passover, even Christ; for, saith he, Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.* Surely then we too eat a Passover, and one far greater than that of the Law. And therefore we ought to eat it, both sandalled and girded. And why? That we too may be ready for our Exodus, for our departure hence.

O then, let us too gird ourselves about;* for we also have to depart, and many are the difficulties that intervene. When we have crossed this plain, straightway the devil is upon us, doing every thing, contriving every artifice, to the end that those who have been saved out of Egypt, those who have passed the Red Sea, those who are delivered at once from the evil demons, and from unnumbered plagues, may be taken and destroyed by him. But, if we be vigilant, we too have a pillar of fire, the grace of the Spirit. The same both enlightens and overshadows us. We have manna; yea rather not manna, but far more than manna. Spiritual drink, not water, springs forth from the Rock. So have we too our encampment,* and we dwell in the desert even now; for a desert indeed without virtue, is the earth even now, even more desolate than the wilderness. Why was that desert so terrible? Was it not because it had scorpions in it, and asps?* In which, it is said, no man passed through.* Yet is not that wilderness, no, it is not so barren of fruits, as is this human nature. At this instant, how many scorpions, how many asps are in this wilderness, how many serpents, how many generations of vipers are these through whom we at this instant pass! Yet let us not be afraid; for the leader of this our Exodus is not Moses, it is Jesus.

How then shall we not fear? Let us not entertain the same passions, let us not commit the same acts, and then shall we not suffer the same punishment. They murmured, they were ungrateful; let us therefore not cherish these passions. How was it that they fell all of them? They thought scorn of that pleasant land.* ‘How thought scorn of it? Surely they prized it highly.’ By becoming indolent and cowardly, and not choosing to undergo any labours to obtain it. Let not us then think scorn of Heaven! This is what is meant by thinking scorn. Again, among us also has fruit been brought, fruit from Heaven, not the cluster of grapes borne upon the staff,* but the earnest of the Spirit, the conversation which is in Heaven,* which Paul and the whole company of the Apostles, those marvellous husbandmen, have taught us. It is not Caleb the son of Jephunneh, nor Jesus the son of Nun, that hath brought their fruit; but Jesus the Son of the Father of mercies,* the Son of the Very God, hath brought every virtue, hath brought down from Heaven all the fruits that are from thence, the songs, I mean, of heaven. For the words which the Cherubim above say, these hath He charged us to say also, Holy, Holy, Holy. He hath brought to us the life of the Angels. The Angels marry not, neither are given in marriage;* this fair plant hath He planted here also.* They love not money, nor any thing like it; and this too hath He sown amongst us. They never die; and this hath He freely given us also, for death is no longer death, but sleep. For hearken to what He saith, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth.*

Seest thou then the fruits of Jerusalem that is above? And what is indeed more stupendous than all is this, that our warfare is not yet decided, but all these things are given us before the attainment of the promise! For they indeed toiled even when they had entered into the land of promise;—rather, they toiled not, for had they chosen to trust in God, they might have taken all the cities, without either arms or array. Jericho, we know, they overturned, more after the fashion of dancers than of warriors. We however have no warfare after we have entered into the land of promise, that is, into Heaven, but only so long as we are in the wilderness, that is, in the present life. For he that is entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own works as God did from His.* Let us not then be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.* Seest thou how that just as He led them, so also He leads us? In their case, touching the manna and the wilderness, it is said, He that gathered much had nothing over, and he that gathered little had no lack.* And we have this charge, given us, not to lay up treasure upon the earth.* But if we do lay up treasure, it is no longer the earthly worm that corrupts it, as was the case with the manna, but that which dwelleth with everlasting burnings.* Let us then subdue all things, that we furnish not food to this worm. For he, it is said, who gathered much had nothing over. For this too happens with ourselves also every day. We all of us have but the same capacity of hunger to satisfy. And that which is more than this, is but an addition of senseless cares. For what He intended in after-times to deliver, saying, Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,* this had He thus been teaching even from the very beginning,* and not even thus did they receive it. But as to us let us not be insatiable, let us not be discontented, let us not be seeking out for splendid houses; for we are on our pilgrimage, not at home; so that if there be any that knows that the present life is a sort of journey, and expedition, and as one might say, it is what they call an entrenched camp,* he will not be seeking for splendid buildings. For who, tell me, be he ever so rich, would choose to build a splendid house in an encampment? No one, he would be a laughing stock, he would be building for his enemies, and will the more effectually invite them; and so then, if we be in our senses, neither shall we. The present life is nothing more nor better than a march and an encampment.

Wherefore, I beseech you, let us do all we can, so as to lay up no treasure here; for if the thief should come, we must in a moment arise and depart. Watch, saith He, for ye know not at what hour the thief cometh,* thus naming death. O then, before he cometh, let us send away every thing before us to our native country; but here let us be well girded, that we may be enabled to overcome our enemies, whom God grant that we may overcome, and thus at the day of crowning, be counted worthy of that glory which is incorruptible, through the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with Whom together with the Holy Ghost, be unto the Father, glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and throughout all ages.

Homily XXIV

Having your loins, saith he, girt about with truth. What can be the meaning of this? I have stated in the preceding discourse, that he ought to be so lightly accoutred, as that there should be no impediment whatever to his running.

And having on, he continues, the breastplate of righteousness. As the breastplate is impenetrable, so also is righteousness, and by righteousness here he means a life of universal virtue. Such an one no one shall ever be able to overthrow; it is true, many wound him, but no one cuts through him, no, not the devil himself. It is as though one were to say, ‘having righteous deeds fixed in the breast;’ of these it is that Christ saith, Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.* He that has this fixed in his breast, is firm, like a breastplate. Such a man will never be put out of temper.

And having your feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace. This is somewhat obscure in this expression. What then is its meaning? They are noble greaves, doubtless, with which he invests us; the preparation of the Gospel. Either then he means this, that we should be prepared for the Gospel, and should make use of our feet for this, and should prepare and make ready its way before it; or if not this, at least that we ourselves should be prepared for our departure. The preparation, then, of the Gospel of peace, is nothing else than a most virtuous life; according to what the Prophet saith, Thine ear hearkeneth to the preparation of their heart,* that is, the preparedness. Of the Gospel, he says, of peace, and with reason; for inasmuch as he had made mention of warfare and fighting, he shews us that this conflict with the evil spirits we must needs have: for the Gospel is the Gospel of peace; this war which we have against them, puts an end to another war, that, namely, which is between us and God; if we are at war with the devil, we are at peace with God. Fear not therefore, beloved; it is a Gospel, that is, a word of good news; already is the victory won.

Over and above all, taking the shield of faith.

By faith in this place, he means, not the knowledge of the faith, (for that he never would have ranged last,) but that gift by which miracles are wrought. And with reason does he term this faith a shield; for as the shield protects the whole body, as if it were a sort of rampart, just so is this faith; for all things yield to it.

Wherewith ye shall he able, saith he, to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.

For this shield nothing shall be able to cleave asunder; for hearken to what Christ saith to His disciples, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place, and it shall remove.* But how are we to have this faith? When we have rightly performed all those duties.

By the darts of the wicked one, he means, both temptations, and vile desires; and well does he add the epithet fiery, for such is the character of these desires. Yet if faith can command the evil spirits, much more can it also the passions of the soul.

And take the helmet, he continues, of salvation, that is, of your salvation. For he is casing them in armour, as about to lead them out to battle.

And the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. He either means the Spirit, or else, ‘by the spiritual sword:’ for by this all things are severed, by this all things are cleft asunder, by this we cut off even the serpent’s head.

Ver. 18, 19, 20. Praying always, saith he, with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; and for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the Gospel, for which I am an ambassador in bonds, that therein I may speak boldly as I ought to speak.

As the word of God has power to do all things, so also has he who has the spiritual gift. For the word of God, saith he, is living, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword.* Now mark the wisdom of this blessed Apostle. He hath armed them with all security. And now he instructs them how they are to call upon the King, that He may stretch forth His hand. Praying, saith he, always, with all prayer, and supplication in the Spirit; for it is possible to pray not in the Spirit, when one uses vain repetitions;* and watching thereunto, he adds, that is, keeping sober; for such ought the armed warrior, he that stands at the King’s side, to be; wakeful and temperate:—with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; and for me that utterance may be given unto me to open my mouth. What sayest thou, blessed Paul? Hast thou need of thy disciples? And well does he say, that I may open my mouth. He did not then, it seems, study what he used to say, but according to what Christ said, When they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak:* so truly did he do every thing by faith, every thing by grace. With boldness, he proceeds, to make known the mystery of the Gospel; that is, that I may answer for myself in its defence as I ought. And art thou bound in thy chain, and still needest the aid of others? Yea, saith he, for so was Peter also bound in his chain, and yet nevertheless was prayer made without ceasing for him.* For which I am an ambassador in bonds; that therein I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak; that is, that I may answer with confidence, with courage, with great prudence.

Ver. 21. But that ye may also know my affairs, and how I do, Tychicus, a beloved brother and faithful minister in the Lord, shall make known to you all things.

As soon as he had mentioned his chains, he leaves something for Tychicus also to relate to them of his own accord. For whatever topics there were of doctrine and of exhortation, all these he explained by his letter: but what were matters of bare recital, these he entrusted to the bearer of the letter. Hence it is he adds further, that ye may know our affairs, that is, may be informed of them. This manifests both the love which he entertained towards them, and their love towards him.

Ver. 22. Whom I have sent unto you, saith he, for the same purpose, that ye might know our affairs, and that he might comfort your hearts.

This language he employs, not without a purpose, but in consequence of what he had been saying previously; having your loins girt about, putting on the breastplate, &c. which are a token of a constant and unceasing attendance on sacred duties; for hear what the Prophet saith; Let it be unto him as the garment which covereth him, and for a girdle wherewith he is girded continually;* and the Prophet Isaiah again saith, that God hath put on righteousness as a breastplate;* by these expressions instructing us that these are things which we must have, not for a short time only, but continually, inasmuch as there is continual need of warfare. So again another in another place saith, The righteous is bold as a lion.* For he that is armed with such a breastplate, it cannot be that he should fear the array that is against him, but he will leap into the midst of the enemy. And again Isaiah saith, How beautiful are the feet of them that publish good tidings of peace.* Who would not run, who would not serve in such a cause; to publish the good tidings of peace, peace between God and man, peace, where men have toiled not, but where God hath wrought all?

But what is the preparation of the Gospel? Let us hearken to what John saith, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make His paths straight.* And this then John did by his Baptism. But since there is need also of another preparation after Baptism, this our Apostle here points out, and says, with the preparation of the Gospel of peace, intimating thereby that we are to do nothing unworthy of peace. And then since the feet are usually a token of the way of life, hence he is constantly exhorting in this language, See that ye walk circumspectly;* where he speaks of the way of life. Oh then let us have our conversation worthy of the Gospel,* let us display purity of conduct and actions, throughout the whole course of our life. The good tidings of peace have been proclaimed to you, give to these good tidings a ready way; since if ye again become enemies, there is no more preparation of peace. Be ready, be not backward to embrace this peace. As ye were ready and disposed for peace and faith, so also continue. Faith is a shield, the first thing that receives the assaults of the adversary, and preserving the armour uninjured. So long then as faith be right and the life be right, the armour remains uninjured.

He discourses, however, much concerning faith in other places, but most especially in writing to the Hebrews, as he does also concerning hope. Believe, saith he, in the good things to come, and none of this armour shall be injured. In dangers, in toils, hold out thy hope and thy faith to protect thee, and thou wilt preserve thy armour uninjured. He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.* Faith is a shield which protects those who believe without curiosity; but wherever there are subtilties,* and reasonings, and scrutinizings, then is it no longer a shield, it only impedes us. Let this our faith be such as shall cover and screen the whole frame. Let it not then be scanty, so as to leave the feet or any other part exposed, but let the shield be commensurate with the whole body.

Fiery darts. For many doubtful reasonings there are, which set the soul as it were on fire, many difficulties, many perplexities, but all of them faith sets entirely at rest; many things does the devil dart in, to make our soul in a blaze, and bring us into uncertainty; as, for example, when some persons say, ‘Is there then a resurrection?’ ‘Is there a judgment?’ ‘Is there a retribution?’ But if thou hast the shield of faith, thou shalt with it quench the darts of the devil. Has any base lust assaulted thee, is there kindled up within a fire of evil thoughts? Hold before thee thy faith in the good things to come, and it will not even shew itself, yea, it will perish. All the darts; not some quenched, and others not. Hearken to what Paul saith, For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us.* Seest thou how many darts the righteous quenched in those days? Seemeth it not to thee to be a fiery dart, when the patriarch burned with inward fire, as he was offering up his son? Yea, and other righteous men also have quenched all his darts. Whether then they be reasonings that invade us, let us hold out this; or whether they be base desires, let us use this; or whether again labours and distresses, upon this let us repose ourselves. Of all the other pieces of armour, this is the safeguard; if we have not this, they will be quickly pierced through. Over and above all, saith he, taking the shield of faith. What is the meaning of over all? It means, both in truth, and in righteousness, and in the preparation of the Gospel; that is to say, in all these several instances this is required.

And therefore he adds further, and take the helmet of salvation; that is to say, finally by this shall ye be able to be in security, and escape every peril, for as the helmet covers the head perfectly in every part, and suffers it not to sustain any injury, but preserves it, so also does faith supply alike the place of a shield, and of a helmet to preserve us. If we quench his darts, quickly shall we receive also those saving thoughts, that suffer not our governing principle to sustain any harm; for if these, the thoughts that are inimical to us are quenched, those which are not so, but which contribute to our salvation, and inspire us with good hopes, will speedily be generated within us, and will rest upon our governing principle, as a helmet does upon the head.

And not only this, but we shall take also the sword of the Spirit, and thus not only ward off his missiles, but smite the devil himself. Yes, the soul that does not give herself up, and is proof against those fiery darts, will stand with all intrepidity to face the enemy, and will cleave open his breastplate with this very sword with which Paul also burst through it, and brought into captivity his devices;* he will maim and behead the serpent.

Which is the word of God.

By the word of God in this place, he means either the commandment, or else the word of command; that, I mean, which the Apostles also every where in working miracles uttered in the Name of Christ. Only let us too keep inviolate in all things the commandments of God; for if we keep them, by them we shall kill and slay the dragon himself, that crooked serpent.* And here mark, I beseech you, the wisdom of Paul; for whereas he has said, Ye shall be able to quench the fiery darts of the wicked one; that he might not puff them up, he shews them, that to do this above all things they stand in need of God; for what does he say?

With all prayer and supplication.

As though he were saying, these things shall be done, and ye shall accomplish all by praying. But when thou drawest near, never ask for thyself only: thus shalt thou have God favourable to thee.

Praying, saith he, always, with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance for all saints. Limit it not, I say, to certain times of the day, for hear what he is saying; approach at all times; pray, saith he, without ceasing.* Hast thou never heard of that widow, how by her importunity she prevailed?* Hast thou never heard of that friend, who at midnight shamed his friend into yielding by his perseverance?* Hast thou not heard of the Syrophœnician woman,* how by the constancy of her entreaty she called forth the Lord’s compassion? These all of them gained their object by their importunity.

Praying, saith he, always in the Spirit.

That is to say, let us seek for the things which are according to God, nothing of this world, nothing pertaining to this life.

Not only, however, is there need that we pray without ceasing, but also, that we should do so watching;—and watching, saith he, thereunto; whether he is here speaking of the vigils, or of the wakefulness of the soul, I admit both meanings. Seest thou how that Canaanitish woman watched unto prayer? For when the Lord gave her no answer, nay, even shook her off, and spoke of her as a dog, Truth, Lord, she said, yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table,* and desisted not until she obtained her request. How, too, did that widow cry, and persist so long, until she was able to shame into yielding that ruler, that neither feared God, nor regarded man? And how, again, did the friend persist, remaining before the door in the dead of night, till he shamed the other into yielding by his importunity, and made him arise. This is to be watchful.

Wouldest thou understand what watchfulness of soul is? Go to Hannah, hearken to her very words, Adonai Eloi Sabaoth:* nay, rather, hear what preceded those words; they all rose up, says the history, from the table,* and she, forthwith, did not betake herself to sleep, nor to repose. Whence she appears to me even when she was sitting at the table to have been abstinent, and not to have been made heavy with viands.* Otherwise never could she have shed so many tears; for if we, when we are fasting and foodless, yet hardly pray thus, or rather never pray thus, much more would not she ever have prayed thus after a meal, unless even at the meal she had been as they that eat not. Let us be shamed, we that are men, at the example of this woman; let us be shamed, we that are suing and gasping for royal station, at her, praying and weeping for a little child. And she stood, it says, before the Lord;* and what are her words? Adonai, Lord, Eloi Sabaoth! and this is, being interpreted, O Lord, the God of Hosts. Her tears outstripped her utterance; by these she hoped to prevail with God to bend to her request. Where tears are, there of necessity is affliction also: where affliction is, there is great wisdom and heedfulness. If thou wilt indeed hearken, she continues, to the prayer of thine handmaid, and wilt give unto me a son, then will I give him as a gift unto the Lord all the days of his life.* She said not, ‘for one year,’ or, ‘for two,’ as we do;—nor said she, ‘if thou wilt give me a child, I will give thee money;’ but, ‘I give back to Thee the very gift itself entire, my first-born, the son of my prayer.’ Truly here was a daughter of Abraham. He gave when it was demanded of him. She offers even before it is demanded.

But observe even after this her deep reverence. Her voice, it saith, was not heard, only her lips moved.* And thus does he who would gain his request draw nigh unto God; not consulting his ease, nor gaping, nor lounging, nor scratching his head, nor with utter listlessness. What, was not God able to grant, even without any prayer at all? What, did He not know the woman’s desire even before she asked? And yet had He granted it before she asked, then would not the woman’s earnestness have been shewn, her virtue would not have been made manifest, she would not have gained so great a reward. So that the delay is not the result of reluctance to give, nor of unwillingness in giving, but of providential kindness. When therefore ye hear the Scripture saying, that the Lord shut up her womb,* and that, her adversary provoked her sore; consider that it is His intention to prove the woman’s seriousness. For, mark, she had a husband devoted to her, for he said, Am I not better to thee than ten children? And her adversary,* it saith, provoked her sore, that is, reproached her, insulted over her. And yet did she never once retaliate, nor utter imprecation against her, nor say, ‘Avenge me, for mine adversary reviles me.’ The other had children, but this woman had her husband’s love to make amends. With this at least he even consoled her, saying, Am not I better to thee than ten children?

But let us look,* again, at the self-control of this woman. And Eli, it says, thought she had been drunken.* Yet observe what she says to him also, Nay, count not thine handmaid for a daughter of Belial, for out of the abundance of my musing am I wasted even until now.* Here is truly the proof of a contrite heart, when we are not angry with those that revile us, when we are not indignant against them, when we reply but as defendants. Nothing renders the heart so wise as affliction;* nothing is there so sweet as godly mourning.* Out of the abundance, saith she, of my musing am I wasted even until now. Her let us imitate, one and all. Hearken, ye that are barren, hearken, ye that desire children, hearken, both husbands and wives; yes, for husbands too used oftentimes to contribute their part; for hear what the Scripture saith, And Isaac intreated the Lord for Rebekah his wife, because she was barren.* So mighty is the efficacy of prayer.

With all prayer and supplication, saith he, for all the saints, and for me, placing himself last. What doest thou, O blessed Paul, in thus placing thyself last? Yea, saith he, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the Gospel, for which I am an ambassador in bonds. And where art thou an ambassador? ‘To mankind,’ saith he. Oh! amazing loving-kindness of God! He sent from Heaven in His own Name ambassadors for peace, and lo, men took them, and bound them, and reverenced not so much as the law of nations, that an ambassador never sustains any injury. ‘But, however, I am an ambassador in bonds. The chain lies like a bridle upon my tongue, and restrains my boldness, but your prayer shall open my mouth.’

That therein I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak; that is, that I may say every thing I was sent to say.

But that ye also may know my affairs, and how I do, Tychicus, a beloved brother, and faithful minister in the Lord, shall make known to you all things. If faithful, he will tell no falsehood, he will in every thing speak the truth:—whom I have sent unto you for the same purpose, that ye might know our affairs, and that he might comfort your hearts. Amazing, transcendent affection! ‘that it may not be in the power,’ he means, ‘of them that would, to affright you.’ For it is probable that they were in tribulation; for the expression, may comfort your hearts, intimates as much; that is, ‘may not suffer you to sink under it.’

Ver. 23. Peace be to the brethren, and love with faith from God the Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.

He invokes upon them, peace and love with faith. He saith well: for he would not that they should have regard to love by itself, and mingle themselves with those of a different faith. Either he means this, or that faith above described, namely, that they should have faith also, so as to have a cheerful confidence of the good things to come. The peace which is towards God, and the love. And if there be peace, there will also be love; if love, there will be peace also. With faith, because without faith, there is no avail in love; or rather love could not exist at all without it.

Ver. 24. And grace be with all them that love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Amen.

He here makes a distinction, placing peace by itself, and grace by itself.

In sincerity, he concludes. Amen.

What is this, in sincerity,* or, uncorruptness? It either means, ‘in purity;’ or else, ‘for the sake of those things which are incorruptible,’ as, for example, not in riches, not in glory, but in those treasures which are incorruptible.* The in, means, ‘through,’ or, ‘because of.’ Through uncorruptness, that is, ‘through virtue.’ Because all sin is corruption. And in the same way as we speak of a virgin being corrupted, so also do we speak of the soul. Hence Paul says, Lest by any means your minds should be corrupted.* And again elsewhere, he says, In doctrine, shewing uncorruptness.* For what, tell me, is corruption of the body? Is it not the dissolution of the whole frame, and of its union. This then is what by the entrance of sin takes place also in the soul. The beauty of the soul is temperance, and righteousness; the health of the soul is courage, and prudence; for the base man is hideous in our eyes, so is the covetous, so is the man who gives himself up to evil practices, and so the coward, the unmanly, and the weak man, is out of health. Now that sins work corruption, is evident from this, that they render men disfigured, and weak, and cause them to be sick and diseased. Nay, and when we say that a virgin is corrupted, we say so, strictly speaking, on this account also, not only because the body is defiled, but because of the transgression. For the mere act is natural; and if in that consisted the corruption, then were marriage corruption. Hence is it not the act that is corruption, but the sin. It destroys the beauty of her soul.* And look at the case again in another view; what will be corruption in the case of a house? Its dissolution. And so, universally, corruption is a change which takes place for the worse, a change into another state, to the utter extinction of the former one. For hear what the Scripture saith, All flesh had corrupted his way;* and again, In intolerable corruption;* and again, Men of corrupt minds.* Our body is corruptible, but our soul is incorruptible. Oh then let us not make that corruptible also. This, the corruption of the body, was the work of former sin; but sin which is after the Laver, has the power also to render the soul corruptible, and to make it an easy prey to the worm that dieth not. For never had that worm touched it, had it not found the soul corruptible. The worm touches not adamant, and if he shall touch it, he can do it no harm. Oh then, corrupt not the soul; for that which is corrupted is full of foul stench; for hearken to the Prophet who saith, My wounds stink and are corrupt through my foolishness.*

However, this corruption* of the body shall put on incorruption, but the other of the soul, never; for where incorruption is, there is no corruption. Thus is it a corruption which is incorruptible, which hath no end, a deathless death; which would have been, had the body remained deathless. Now if we shall depart into the next world with corruption about us like this, we shall retain that corruption incorruptible and endless; for to be ever burning, ever wasted by the worm, is corruption incorruptible; like as was the case with the blessed Job. He was corrupted, and died not, and that through a lengthened period, and wasted continually, scraping the clods of dust from his sore.* Some such torment as this shall it undergo,* when the worms surround and devour it,* not for two years nor for three,* nor for ten,* nor for ten thousand,* but for years without end; for their worm,* saith He, dieth not.

Fontes

S. John Chrysostom, Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians, and Homilies on the Epistle to the Ephesians, vol. VI, A Library of Fathers of the Holy Catholic Church (Oxford; London: John Henry Parker; J. G. F. and J. Rivington, 1840).