Chapter VIII: Part I: The King’s Highway (4)

And what is your excuse? ‘Who has ever come,’ you say, ‘and told us about the next world?’ No man ever did; but God, Who is the most worthy of belief, has revealed these things. ‘But we cannot see them.’ Neither can you see God; and do you doubt His existence because you cannot see Him?’ ‘I believe in it most thoroughly,’ you say. Now, then, if an unbeliever ask you, ‘Who has ever come from heaven and told us these things?’ what will you answer? How do you know that there is a God? ‘From visible things,’ you reply; ‘from the order which is in the whole creation; from the fact that this is evident to all.’ Therefore, apply the same argument to that which concerns judgment. ‘How am I to do this?’ you ask. I will tell you, and you will say if I am right. Is God just, and does He give to each one according to his works, or, on the contrary, is it His wish that the wicked should do well and feast, and the good be in trouble and want? ‘Certainly not,’ you say; ‘for not even a man would suffer this.’ Then where are those who are upright here to enjoy good things? Where are the wicked to suffer, if there is to be no future life and no retribution after this world? Do you see that so far it is one against one, and not two things instead of one? I am showing you that the just will have not one thing rather than another, but two things rather than nothing, and that with sinners and those who feast here just the reverse is the case. For those who feast in this world have not even one thing against another, but those who persevere in virtue have two things instead of nothing. Who will be in refreshment—those who misuse this present life or those who lead an ascetic one? You say the former, but I point out the latter, and call in as witnesses those very people who have enjoyed present things, and they will not be ashamed of what I am going to say. For they have often cursed match-makers and the day on which the marriage-tie was completed, and have envied the unmarried. Many young men, who could easily have married, have desisted for no other reason except its irksomeness. I say this, not in disparagement of marriage—for it is honourable—but against those who misuse it. For if married people have often called their life insupportable, what shall we say of those who have fallen into the abysses of lust, and who have led a life more slavish and miserable than any captivity?—of those who have rotted in luxury, and drawn down a hundred disorders upon their body? ‘Still,’ you answer, ‘it is pleasant to be somebody.’ Nothing in the world is bitterer than this servitude. The vain man and he who wishes to please all-comers is more servile than any slave; whereas he who looks down upon vainglory is exalted above all, and troubles himself not with what others say. ‘But having money is delightful.’ We have often shown you that those are in greater plenty and refreshment who have given up these things and are rather possessors of nothing. ‘But drunkenness is pleasant.’ Who would say so? Therefore, if poverty is pleasanter than riches, the unmarried rather than the married life, obscurity rather than reputation, fasting than feasting, it follows that those have the most who do not cleave to present things. I mean that the one, although he may be torn with numberless cares, rests on a good hope; whereas the other, even if he enjoy luxury a thousand times over, has fear of the future to spoil and mar his pleasure. And this is indeed not a slight punishment, as it is destructive to feasting and enjoyment. Together with these there is a third sort of punishment. What is this? That earthly feasting is seen to have no real existence, since nature and the action of time disprove it; whereas eternal things not only do exist, but remain unchanged. Do you see that it is not only two things against nothing, but three, five, ten, twenty, or a thousand against nothing. In order to teach you this from an example, take the case of Dives and Lazarus: the one enjoyed the present life and the other eternal life. Now, does it seem to you that you can set the one thing against the other: to be chastised for ever and to suffer hunger for a short time; to be sick in a perishing body, and to be burnt in a fierce fire with an immortal body; to be crowned, and to feed on eternal goods after short suffering, and to be tortured endlessly after a brief enjoyment of temporal things? Who would say so? What would you have me reckon? Quantity, quality, order, God’s determination respecting each of us? How long will you speak as an insect might who is always wallowing in the mire?

It does not belong to consistent men to throw away so precious a soul for anything whatsoever, when a little labour is required to conquer heaven. Shall I show you by another example that a formidable tribunal is awaiting us there? Open the door of your conscience and see the judge who is sitting in your mind. If you exercise judgment upon yourself, selfish as you are, and could not bear the judgment not to be just, how much more will God have a care for the righteous, and judge every man impartially rather than allow all things to be carried out for nothing and in vain! Who, indeed, would say this? No man whatsoever, but heathens, barbarians, poets, philosophers, and all the human race will agree with us in these matters, if not in the same way, and will admit that there is some kind of tribunal in hell, because the thing is so clear and evident.

‘And why,’ you ask, ‘does He not chastise in this world?’ In order that He may show forth His own long-suffering, and give us an opportunity of salvation by contrition; that He may not use harshness with our race, nor deprive of salvation those who may be saved by a perfect conversion. If He immediately chastised sins and destroyed sinners, how would Paul have been saved or Peter, the chief teachers of the world (οἱ κορυφαῖοι τῆς οἰκουµένης διδάσκαλοι)? How would David have reaped salvation from his repentance? or the Galatians? or many others? This is why He does not demand the payment of every penalty here, but some of the whole number, nor all there, but one man pays in this world and another in the next, in order that He may arouse the most insensible through those whom He chastises, and prove the future state through those whom He does not chastise. See you not how many men have received their punishment here—those, for instance, who were buried by the tower, those whose blood Pilate used for the sacrifices, those amongst the Corinthians who died a premature death for partaking unworthily of the mysteries; or again, Pharaoh, or those amongst the Jews who were slaughtered by the Gentiles, or so many others then, and now, and at all times? And, again, many great sinners have departed hence without paying any penalty here, like the rich man in Lazarus’ case, and numerous others. This he does, and so leads unbelievers to future things, and makes believers more fervent. _For God is a just, and a strong, and a long-suffering judge, and remembers not His anger day by day._ Yet, if we misuse His long-suffering, a time will come when He will be patient no more, and will instantly apply the penalty. Let us not then encounter chastisement during endless ages for the enjoyment of one moment, which is our present life, but let us labour during this critical moment that we may be crowned for ever. Do you not see that this is how the majority of men act in worldly things? And they choose a short labour in preference to a long rest, even if the issue be unfavourable to them. Here there is equality of labour and gain, or, on the other hand, there is often endless labour and a small harvest, or none at all; whereas in the case of the kingdom the travail is little, and the pleasure great and never-ending. For consider, the husbandman toils all the year round, and towards the end of it he is often defrauded of the fruits of his many labours. Again, the sailor and the soldier are in wars and toils till extreme old age, and it often chances that each dies, the one without his wealth of cargoes, the other losing his life as well as victory on the battlefield. Now, tell me what excuse shall we have if we choose labours in worldly things, that we may rest for a while, or not even that, because hope is uncertain, whereas in spiritual things we do the very contrary, and draw down upon us an unspeakable chastisement for the sake of short ease?

· · · · · · ·

The Word of Praise.
(_Homilies on Second Epistle to Corinthians_, i., vol. iii., p. 8.)

· · · · · · ·

Let us not lose heart in temptation. For no man that feasts, and slumbers, and flags, is united to Christ, nor any of those who lead this soft and dissolute life; but the man in tribulation and temptation, he who walks on the narrow path, is near to Christ. For this was His path, and so He said: _The Son of man hath not whereon to lay His Head_. Therefore do not grieve that you are tried, seeing Whom you are like in this, how you are purified by temptations, and what great things you gain. Nothing is grievous except falling out with God. Short of this neither tribulation, nor snares, nor anything else, has power to afflict the wisely-tempered soul; but just as a small spark falling into a deep abyss goes out at once, so the force of despondency sinking into a good conscience is destroyed and quickly disappears. Thus it was that Paul always rejoiced, since he drew his courage from the things of God, and did not even perceive human evils: he was grieved as a man, but did not fall. Thus, too, that patriarch of old was in gladness whilst suffering many painful things. For consider: he was exiled from his country, he went through long and grievous journeys, and coming to a foreign land, he had not a place for the sole of his foot. After that he was a prey to hunger, and it made him a wanderer, and his hunger was followed by the taking of his wife, by the fear of death, by childlessness, and war, and dangers, and plottings, and at last by the crowning and most bitter grief of all, the slaughtering of his only son, the heir.

Do not think that, because he had so much endurance, he went through these things without suffering. For if he was just a thousand times over, as indeed he was, he was still a man, and he had the feelings of a man. Yet no one of these things overthrew him, but he stood like a valiant combatant with the laurel wreath, acclaimed with applause in each race. Thus, too, blessed Paul, exposed day by day to the snowstorms of temptation, as if feasting in the midst of paradise, rejoiced and exulted. Now, just as a man who is glad with this gladness does not fall a prey to despondency, so one who is not glad in this way is easily overcome by everything, and he suffers as a man would, who having insufficient armour should be wounded by a chance shot. Not so the man who is safely armed from head to foot: he wards off every assailing dart. For, indeed, joy, according to God, is stronger than any armour, and nothing can make such a man downcast or sad, but he bears all things with fortitude. What is more destructive than fire, or more painful than constant tortures? Even if a man lose a hundred possessions and children, and anything else, this is the sharpest suffering: _Skin for skin, and all that a man hath he will give for his life_. Nothing could be harder to bear than pain. Still, that which men deem unbearable becomes tolerable and desirable through the gladness coming from God. If you lead the martyr whilst still alive away from the cross or the cauldron you will find this same joy within his breast, which is not even to be described.

‘And why should I suffer,’ you ask, ‘since this is no age for martyrdom?’ What are you saying, ‘This is no age for martyrdom’? It has never ceased, but is always before our eyes if we will be on the look-out. It is not only hanging on the wood which makes a martyr, for if this were the case, Job would be deprived of this particular crown. He neither appeared at a judgment-seat, nor heard the voice of a judge, nor saw an executioner, nor raised in the air and disjointed on the cross, were his ribs worn away. Yet he bore stripes harder than many martyrs did, and the voices of ceaseless messengers urged and tormented him more sharply than any stripes, and those worms devoured his flesh more rapidly than countless executioners. Was he then not fully equal to a martyr? He _was_ a thousand times a martyr. He wrestled in every single way, and was crowned; he was tried by money losses, and by children, and bodily sickness, and wife, and friends, and enemies, and servants, for they also insulted him to his face; by hunger, and curses, and pains, and stench. On this account I should say that he would equal not one, or two, or three, but many martyrs. Besides all this, the time added greatly to his crowns: for instance, it was before the law and the dispensation of grace, and he suffered during many months and with intensity, and all his misfortunes were laid upon him at once, although each was in itself overwhelming, and that which seemed the most grievous of all, the loss of his wealth. Many at least have borne stripes but have not borne the loss of property, and have chosen to be scourged for it, and would rather have endured a thousand other evils than any diminution of it, as the loss of money appeared to them the greater stripe. So this constitutes another kind of martyrdom for the man who bears its loss with endurance. And how shall we be sure of the endurance, you ask? By understanding that you gain more than you have lost by a single word, that of thanksgiving. If, when we hear of our loss, we are not agitated, but say, ‘Praised be God,’ we have found something of much greater worth. Indeed, you could not gain rewards so high by distributing your riches to the poor, nor by going about to seek out the needy, and by lavishing your good things upon them, as you gain by this one word. Hence, I admire Job not so much when he opens his house to the poor, as I proclaim and wonder at him for bearing the loss of his wealth with thanksgiving. The same is evident in the case of his children’s death. You will receive a reward not less than his was who led out his son to sacrifice him, if seeing _yours_ dead, you give thanks to the God of mercy. How is such a man less than Abraham? He did not see _his_ son lying dead, but only expected it; so that if he carries off the palm for his readiness to sacrifice, and for putting out his hand to seize the knife, he is surpassed by the fact of _your_ son being actually a corpse before your eyes. And, besides, the inward consciousness of his good deed bore him up with consolation, that heroic action being produced by his own fortitude, and the listening to the voice from above increased his readiness; in this case there is nothing of this kind. Thus it requires a most steadfast soul in the man who looks upon his only son, brought up in wealth and giving much promise, lying stretched across the threshold, in order to bear it meekly. He who can do this has overcome the tempest of natural emotion, and is able to speak tearlessly those words of Job: _The Lord has given, the Lord has taken away_; he will take his place even with Abraham, and be proclaimed with Job for this one word alone. And if you put a stop to the wailing of women and break up the bands of weepers, and lead them to the voice of praise, numberless rewards will follow both from above and below; men will be in admiration, angels will applaud, God will be your crown.

· · · · · · ·

Sufferings of the Just.
(_Homilies de Statuis_, xxi., _preached at Antioch_, t. ii., p. 13,
_Benedictine Edition_.)

· · · · · · ·

_Blessed are ye when men reproach you, and pursue you, and say every evil thing against you, lying. Rejoice and be glad, because your reward is very great in heaven; for this is what their fathers did to the prophets._ And again, Paul, wishing to encourage the Macedonians, said: _You, brethren, are become the imitators of the churches of God in Judea, because you have suffered from your own countrymen the same things as they suffered from the Jews._ And again, exhorting the Hebrews in the same way, he enumerates all the just; those who were in furnaces, in water, in deserts, in mountains, in caves, in hunger, those living in anguish; as a community of suffering is in itself some consolation to its victims. And listen again to Paul urging the same thing when speaking of the resurrection: _If as a man I fought with the wild beasts at Ephesus, what do I gain by it if the dead are not to rise again?_ And again: If we hope in Christ in this life only, we are more miserable than all men. We suffer a thousand evils according to this world, he says; if then we may hope for no other life, what can be more wretched than we? Whence it is clear that our lives do not end here, and this is evident from temptations, for God would never allow those who have suffered so much and so greatly, and have passed their whole lives in temptations and numberless dangers, not to be rewarded with gifts much greater. And if this be the case, it is evident that He has prepared another life which is happier and more glorious, in which He means to crown and to proclaim the champions of piety in the face of the whole world. Therefore, when you see a just man spending this present life in great trouble, when you see him ill-treated, in sickness, poverty, and enduring all sorts of misfortunes, say to yourself, that if there were no resurrection and no judgment, God would not allow him to leave this world after suffering so many evils and enjoying no good. Hence it is evident that He holds in reserve for them another life far pleasanter and higher than this. If this were not the case He would not allow so many sinners to feast in this life, nor so many just to be in a sea of troubles. But since there _is_ another life, in which He designs to give to every man according to his deserts, whether they be those of wickedness or those of goodness, He suffers the one to be persecuted and the other to enjoy himself. I will endeavour to prove another reason (why suffering is tolerated) from the Scriptures. And what is it? That we who are called to the same virtue may not say that _they_ had a different nature to ours and were not men. So in speaking of the great Elias it is said that Elias was a man of like feelings to ourselves. Do you see that he is shown to be a man like to us from similarity of feelings? And again: _For I am a man of like nature to yourselves_. This is a pledge of similarity. Clearly He is teaching you here the lesson that He makes us happy in the right way. When you hear Paul saying, _Up to the present time we are in hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, and we are chastised, and homeless, and weary_; and again: _that the Lord chastises the one He loves, and scourges every son He receives_, it is evident that we should exalt not those who are enjoying rest, but those who are tried and afflicted for God, and that we should emulate those who live holily, and care for piety. So spoke the prophet: _Their right hand is the right hand of iniquity. Their daughters decked out, adorned round about after the similitude of a temple. Their store-houses full, flowing out of this into that. Their sheep fruitful in young, abounding in their goings forth; their oxen fat. There is no breach of wall, nor passage, nor crying out in their streets. They have called the people happy that hath these things._ What do you say, O prophet? _Happy_, he says, _is that people whose God is the Lord_. I call blessed, not the man who abounds in money, but him who lives for piety, even if he suffer a thousand evils. And if we ought to speak of another[9] reason, I should say that tribulation increases the worth of the tried. _Tribulation worketh patience, and patience probation, probation hope, and hope is not shamed_: see you how the probation produced by tribulation makes us hopeful concerning the future, and how remaining in temptations puts us in good hope of what is to come? Therefore, I said, not unadvisedly, that tribulations themselves strengthen the resurrection in our hearts, and make those who are tried better. For as, he says, gold is tried in the fire, so is an acceptable man in the fire of humiliation. There is yet another[10] reason. What is this? One which I have often spoken of already: that, if we have any stains, we may put them off in this world. The Patriarch clearly said to the rich man that Lazarus had received his bad things, and was therefore consoled. And, added to this, we may find another reason. What is it? The strengthening of our crowns and rewards, for the more searching the tribulation, the greater will be the rewards, or, rather, they will far surpass the comparison. _The sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared to the glory to come, which shall be revealed in us._ Having, then, all these reasons to give for the affliction of the saints, let us not be cast down in temptations, nor distressed, nor harassed, but let us instruct our own souls, and teach these things to others. Even if you see a man leading a good life, practising asceticism, pleasing God, and he be suffering a thousand evils, be not scandalised, O beloved. Again, if you see some one overthrown who is engaged in spiritual works and about to complete something useful, be not troubled. For I have often heard many men remark upon it in this way: ‘So and so,’ they say, ‘went to a shrine, taking all his money to the poor, and he was shipwrecked, and lost everything; another, again, did the same and fell among thieves, and barely escaping with his life, he got away in nakedness’. What should we say? That none of these things need trouble us. For if he _did_ perish by shipwreck, the fruit of justice is perfect above: he had done his part, he had put together his possessions, given them up, and taking them, had set out. He had begun his journey, but the shipwreck was not of his own making. Why, then, did God allow it? That it might prove him. Still the poor were deprived of their money, you say: you do not care for the poor as God their maker does. If they were indeed deprived of this money, He is able to offer them an opportunity of a much greater treasure.

Therefore, do not let us call Him to account for what has happened, but glorify Him in all things. For not by chance, or in vain, does He allow such things often to come about, nor does He despise those who are to enjoy solace from money, but instead of this He puts another means of support in their way, and, besides the trial, gives the shipwrecked man a greater reward. Indeed, giving thanks to God in trials of this kind is much higher than alms, for we do not give by alms alone, but if we bear bravely the losses inflicted by others, we shall gain immense fruit from it. In order to prove this to you I will make it clear to you from what happened to Job that patience is better than alms-giving. When Job was rich, he opened his house to the poor and gave away all that he possessed, but he was not so magnificent at the time he was opening his house to the needy, as when he heard unmoved that it had fallen to the ground: he was not so renowned when he covered the naked with the fleece of his sheep as when, hearing that fire had broken out and consumed all his cattle, he gave thanks. _Then_ he was kind, now he became mortified: _then_ he had compassion on the poor, now he gave thanks to his Lord. Nor did he say to himself: ‘What is the meaning of this? The sheep, from which thousands of poor were fed, are destroyed: for if _I_ was unworthy to enjoy this abundance, I should have been spared, at least, for the sake of those who shared it.’ He neither said nor thought anything of the sort, but he knew that God was ordering it all for the best. And to show you that he beat the devil more effectually by giving thanks when despoiled than by showing mercy when rich, consider that, at the time of his wealth, the devil had some reason, even if falsely, for saying, _Does Job worship Thee for nothing?_ Now when God took away everything, and stripped him completely, and Job kept his good-will towards God, then was that shameless mouth stopped, and he had nothing more to say: that just man was more glorious than before. To bear with fortitude and thanksgiving the being despoiled is a much greater thing than for a rich man to give alms, as has been shown in the case of this just man. Then his kindness to his fellow-man was overflowing, now he proved his exceeding love for God. I insist on this, not without reason, but because many men by frequent alms have supported widows, and then been deprived of their substance. Others have lost everything through a fire breaking out; others have encountered shipwreck; others through slanderings and abuse have, after generous alms-giving, fallen into the extreme of poverty, and into weakness and disease, and have been helped by no one in any way. In order, therefore, that we should not say, as many often do, ‘No man knows anything,’ what I have said will suffice to put an end to this difficulty. ‘So and so, who gave so much in alms,’ you say, ‘lost everything.’ And what if he did? For, if he give thanks for this great loss of his, he will propitiate God’s good-will the more, and reap not double riches, as Job did, but the hundred-fold in eternal life. If he _does_ suffer here, the very fact of his bearing it all bravely will increase his reward. God, in calling him to greater trials and struggles, allowed him to fall from abundance into poverty. Has fire perchance often broken out in your house and destroyed your substance? Remember what happened to Job, give thanks to the Lord, Who was able to stop it and did not stop it, and you will receive a reward as great as if you had poured forth all those things into the hands of the poor. Or, are you living in poverty and hunger, and a thousand dangers? Call to mind Lazarus, who was hard pressed by sickness, and poverty, and solitude, and numberless things of the kind, and all this after so much goodness; call to mind the Apostles, who passed their lives in hunger and thirst and nakedness; and the prophets, and patriarchs, and just, and you will find them one and all, not amongst the rich, not amongst those who feast, but amongst those suffering hunger and affliction and anguish.

Pondering on these things, give thanks to God for the share He has allotted to you, not in hatred, but in tender love, since He would not have allowed those men to suffer evils so great, if He had not loved them dearly, because He made them more illustrious through these evils. No good is so great as thanksgiving, as nothing is worse than blasphemy. Let us not be astonished that, when we are paying much attention to spiritual things, we suffer a great deal. It is as with thieves, who do not break into places where mud and chaff and reeds are, but where gold and silver are, and are ever on the watch. Thus the devil gives his special attention to those who are taken up with spiritual things. Snares are numerous where goodness exists, and envy is to be found where there is alms-giving. But we have one great weapon by which we may resist all these machinations, the giving thanks to God in all things. Tell me, did not Abel, who reserved the first-fruits for God, fall by his brother’s hand? Yet God allowed it, not hating the man who had honoured him, but loving him much, and adding to the crown of Abel’s beautiful sacrifice the further crown of martyrdom. Moses wished to succour some one who had been wronged, and he confronted the greatest dangers on this account, and fled from his country, and God allowed it, to teach you what the patience of the saints is. If, knowing beforehand that we should suffer no evil, we were thus to give ourselves up to spiritual things, we should not appear to be doing a great thing, possessing this pledge of security. Now, it so happens that those who do this are chiefly admirable because, foreseeing dangers, and penalties, and deaths, and a thousand evils, they have still neither desisted from their good deeds nor grown faint-hearted through fear of the terrors to come. As the three children said, _There is a God in heaven Who can deliver us, and even if He do not, know, O king, that we do not worship thy gods, and do not adore the golden statue which thou hast set up_, so when you are about to do something for God, expect many dangers, many penalties, many deaths, and wonder not nor fear at them. _Son_, he says, _when thou comest to serve_ _God, prepare thy soul for temptation_. For no one who has chosen a hand-to-hand fight may expect to bear off the crown without wounds. And you who are to wrestle with the devil in every possible way, live not a life of ease and luxury. Your rewards and promises are not here, but God promises you all glory in the world to come. When, therefore, either you yourself do a good action and reap contrary effects, or you see another enduring them, rejoice and be glad, for the deed becomes a source of greater reward to you; only be not cast down, do not lose your fervour, grow not faint-hearted, but rather go on your way with greater readiness. Since the Apostles, also, were scourged and stoned and perpetually in prison for what they preached, not only after their liberation from dangers, but in the very midst of them, they announced the tidings with all the more willingness. We may see Paul catechising and instructing even in prison, even in his chains, and again before the tribunal, and in the shipwreck, and the storm, and in a thousand dangers. Do you also emulate these saints, and, as long as you can, hold to good works. Even if you see the devil assailing you on a thousand sides, never turn away. In distributing your money, you may perhaps have suffered shipwreck, yet Paul, who was more precious than any money, in preaching the word, went to Rome, suffered shipwreck, and endured numberless evils. And this he clearly says in the words: _We have often wished to come to you, but Satan has prevented us_. And God allowed it by an abundant manifestation of His power, showing that, in spite of the devil’s making and unmaking in a thousand ways, the Gospel was by no means lessened or impeded thereby. So Paul gave thanks to God in everything, knowing that God was proving him by these things; and he showed his burning zeal everywhere by allowing no obstacle to stand in his way. Now, the more we meet with failure, the greater will be our hold of spiritual works; and do not let us say, ‘Why did God allow there to be impediments?’ He allowed them that He may prove your zeal the more to the multitude, and your true love. For lovers are remarkable for never departing from the good pleasure of the beloved one. He who is remiss and luxurious is prostrated by the first touch of tribulation; but the fervent and watchful man, even if he be impeded in a thousand ways, sets himself the more to work at God’s business, doing his part perfectly, and giving thanks in every thing. This let us also do. Thanksgiving is an immense treasure, great riches, an inexhaustible good, a strong weapon. Blasphemy has a present penalty, and causes our destruction over and above what we have suffered. Have you lost money? If you have given thanks, you have gained your soul and won greater riches for yourself, and propitiated God the more; but, if you have blasphemed, you have destroyed your own salvation without gaining any of those things, and have slain your own soul.

The Folly of the Cross.
(_Homilies on First Epistle to Corinthians_, xiv., vol. ii., p. 36.)

· · · · · · ·

Showing the power of the Cross, St. Paul says: _The Jews too ask for signs, and the Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, a scandal to the Jews, a folly to the Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Gentiles, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God_. There is a deep meaning in these words. For he wishes to say how God conquered by contraries, and that the promulgation of the Gospel does not come from man. What he says amounts to this. When we say to the Jews, ‘Believe,’ they reply, ‘Raise up the dead, cure those who are possessed, show us signs’. How do we answer these things? By saying, that He Whom we preach was crucified and died. This was sufficient not only not to move those who did not wish to be moved, but also to repulse those who had the will; yet still He is not repulsed, but draws men after Him, and conquers and gets the better of them. Again, the Gentiles demand of us eloquent discourses and elaborate reasonings, and we reply to them also by preaching the Cross, and that which seems to be weakness to the Jews, the Gentiles consider folly. Now, when we not only do not offer them what they ask for, but the very contrary, for the Cross not only does not seem to be a sign tested, according to human reason, but the destruction of signs: not only not a manifestation of power, but a proof of weakness: not only not an embodiment of wisdom, but a personification of folly; when, then, those who look for signs and wisdom not only do not receive what they seek, but listen to things which are the exact contrary of their desires, and, furthermore, are persuaded by them, is not the power of Him Who is preached beyond words? It is as if some one were to show those who are tossed on the waves and longing for harbour, not the land, but a more angry sea, would he induce them to follow him? Or if a physician were to tell a man broken by pain and desiring remedies that he will restore health, not by medicine but by again using the knife, would his patient yield himself to his guidance? This implies very great power. So the Apostles made their way not only by signs, but by a line of action seemingly in opposition with signs, as Christ had done in the case of the blind man. For wishing to cure him, He used a course which increased the affliction, as He put clay upon his eyes. Just, then, as He cured the blind man by putting clay upon him, so he drew the world to Himself through the Cross, which indeed was an increase, not a removal of scandal. So He acted in the Creation, preparing contraries by contraries. He built up with sand the limits of the sea, curbing the strong with the weak; He placed the earth upon the water, causing that which was hard and firm to be upborne by flowing and liquid matter. Again, through the prophets He made iron float with a little wood. Thus He drew the world after Himself through His Cross. For as water supports the earth, so the Cross supports the world. Therefore it is a great proof of power and wisdom to persuade by contraries. And if the Cross seems to be a subject of scandal, still not only it does _not_ scandalise, but it draws to itself. St. Paul had all these things in his mind and was struck with astonishment when he said that _the folly of God is wiser than man, and the weakness of God is stronger than man_, applying this folly and this weakness to the Cross, not that it was really foolish and weak but that it seemed so: for he answers them according to _their_ estimate. That, in fact, which philosophers had been unable to do by their reasonings was effected by this apparent folly. Now who was the wiser? He Who persuaded many, or he who persuaded a few—or rather no one? He Who convinced man of the greatest things, or he who used his powers of persuasion about things which do not exist at all? How Plato and his school laboured about the line, the angle, and the point, and about even numbers and odd numbers, and about their being equal and unequal, discoursing to us about such like cobwebs, for such things are less profitable to our life than even cobwebs, and so helping us neither much nor little, he came to the end of his life.

How he wearied himself to show that the spirit is immortal, and did he not die without making any clear statement or convincing a single man amongst his disciples? But it was through unlearned men that the Cross brought conviction, and drew the world to itself. It spoke to men, not of chance things, but of God, and of piety in the truth, of the Gospel polity, of future judgment, and it made uncouth men and unlearned men philosophers.

This is how the folly of God is wiser than man, and His weakness stronger. How is it stronger? It is stronger in that it spread over the whole earth and seized all men by force, and whereas thousands and thousands did their utmost to stamp out the name of the Crucified One, just the contrary came to pass. For this name took root and was propagated all the more, whereas _they_ were destroyed and consumed, and living men fighting a dead One, gained not a stroke. Consequently when a heathen tells me that I am a fool, he proves that he himself is doubly one; inasmuch as considered by him to be a fool, I appear wiser than the wise; and when he calls me weak, he shows himself to be weaker. For publicans and fishermen set up those very things by the goodness of God which philosophers, and orators, and despots, and the whole world vainly striving with all its might could not even devise.

What, indeed, has the Cross not introduced? The belief concerning the immortality of the soul, and the resurrection of the body, the despising of present things, the desire of eternal. And it made angels out of men, who practise everywhere the philosophy of all endurance. But amongst heathens, too, you say, ‘There have been many who have despised death’. Tell me who they are. Do you allude perchance to the drinker of hemlock? But, if you like, I will show you thousands of such men in the Church. For if, when a persecution came, all men could get off by taking hemlock, they would all have been more illustrious than he was. Besides, he drained the cup, not being free to drink or not to drink: willing or unwilling, he had to suffer, which was not courage, but necessity. Thieves and murderers under sentence of their judges have suffered harder things. It is just the very contrary amongst us; for the martyrs endured, not in spite of themselves, but willingly, and having it in their power not to suffer, showed forth a fortitude beyond all proof. Therefore it is not surprising if Socrates drank hemlock, both because he could not do otherwise, and because he had reached extreme old age, for he said that he was seventy years old when he despised life, if this be indeed despising it; _I_ should not say so, nor would anyone else. But show me a man rejoicing in torments for his belief, as I can show _you_ thousands all over the world. Who bore bravely the tearing out of his nails, the racking of his joints, the hacking asunder of his members, one after the other, the stretching upon a gridiron, or plunging into a caldron? Show me this. For death by hemlock is equivalent to slumbering quietly away, as it is said to be an end which is sweeter than sleep. And if certain men have even endured torments, they have forfeited the praise due to them by dying for criminal causes: some for betraying secret things, others for aiming at domination, others for being taken in the most shameful deeds; others, again, either vainly or foolishly, without any cause, have destroyed themselves. But it is not so with us. And this is why their deeds have been hushed in silence, whilst ours are flowering and increasing day by day. This was in Paul’s mind when he said: ‘The weakness of God is stronger than all men put together’. For the divinity that was in the tidings is clear from this. How, indeed, was it that twelve unlettered men attempted things of this importance, twelve men, whose life was spent on seas and rivers and in deserts, who scarcely entered city or marketplace? How did they manage to set themselves in battle array over the whole world? The recorder of their deeds shows them to have been faint-hearted and unmanly, and himself to have no desire to conceal their shortcomings, which were themselves the greatest proof of the truth. Now, what does he say about them? That when Christ was taken, after seeing Him work countless wonders, some fled, and the one who remained, the chief of all, denied Him. How was it, then, that those who, whilst Christ lived, could not endure Jewish anger, should have been able to range themselves against the whole earth after He was dead and buried, if, as heathens say, He did not rise from the dead, nor have any communication with them, nor infuse courage into them? Would they not have said to themselves, ‘How is this? He was not powerful enough to save Himself, and will He help us? He did not help Himself whilst alive, and will He, now that He is dead, put out His hand to us? In life He did not gain over even one people, and shall we persuade the whole world by speaking His name?’ And, indeed, how would it be reasonable not only to do these things, but even to conceive the doing? Whence it is evident that if they had not seen His resurrection, and had not witnessed a very great proof of His power, they would not have made such a venture. For if they had, indeed, numberless friends, would they not have made enemies of them all by disturbing ancient customs and removing ancestral landmarks? Now, they had all for enemies both at home and abroad. But if they had been in universal veneration on account of outward gifts, would not all men have detested them for introducing a new manner of life? Seeing, however, that they were without all these things, this in itself would have been enough to make them hated and despised by all.

· · · · · · ·

The Abode of the Humble.
(_Homilies on St. Matthew_, lxxii., vol. ii., p. 344.)

· · · · · · ·

_He who humbleth himself shall be exalted._ Where shall we find this humility? Would you like to go once more to the abode of goodness, to the tents of the blessed, I mean, to the mountains and forests? For it is there that we shall see this perfection of humility. They are men, some famous for outward position, some for wealth, who humble themselves in every particular, in their food, in their dwelling, in their servants, and so in all their life they are writing the word _humility_ as if with pen and ink. Just as smart dressing and a fine house and a large establishment are incentives to vainglory, which thrust men into it, often in spite of themselves, all these things are cut off in the desert. Those men light their own fire, hew their wood, do their own cooking, and themselves wait upon guests. Insult is neither given nor taken, no man is ruled, no man rules, but all are ministering. Each man washes the stranger’s feet, and there is much contention as to who shall do it. This he does, not seeking to find out who the stranger is, whether a slave or a free man; in each case he carries out this service. No man is either great or small. Is there confusion then? God forbid, it is rather the perfection of harmony. If, indeed, a man there be of small account, he who is great does not regard it, but deems himself inferior, and so becomes greater.

Both servers and served eat at one and the same table, have the same food, the same clothes, the same lodging, the same rule of life. He is great there who is eager over a lowly task. Mine and thine do not exist, and the thing itself, the cause of endless strife, has been banished. And why do you wonder that there is one rule, one table, and one dress for all, where there is one spirit in all, not according to the body only (for this is the case with all men), but according to charity? For how could charity ever be set against itself? Neither poverty nor riches are to be found there, neither fame nor disgrace. How, then, could folly or vainglory creep in? Some are great, some are little amongst the number according to a moral reckoning, but as I was saying, no one takes note of it. The weak man does not grieve as being despised, for there is no one to despise him. Even should anyone insult another, this is their principal training, bearing contempt and contumely and shabby treatment both in word and act; they live with the lowly and the maimed, for these are the guests of their repasts, and thus they are worthy of heaven. One dresses sores, another leads the blind, another supports the lame. There are neither flatterers nor parasites, or rather they do not even apprehend what flattery is. How, then, could they ever be puffed up? For a great equality reigns among them, consequently the contentedness produced by goodness. In this way the most wretched are better taught than by being obliged to give them the first places. Just as a meek man schools an impetuous man to lowliness, so does a man who makes no account of reputation, but despises it, teach the ambitious. This they do lavishly, for, in proportion as we fight over the first places, do they wrestle not to have them, but to be hindered; and their burning zeal is, not who shall be honoured, but who shall not be honoured. Moreover, their very works incline them to moderation, and do not tolerate vanity. For, tell me, how can a man who is tilling and watering and planting the earth, or plaiting baskets, or weaving a sack, or doing any other manual labour, ever think great things of himself? Who, that is living in poverty, and struggling with hunger, will be sick with this complaint? No man. Therefore their lowliness is well contented. And just as moderation is difficult here, through the crowd of flatterers and admirers, so is it perfectly easy _there_. They have only the desert before them: they see birds flying, and the breeze through the trees, and the soft wind blowing, and streams flowing through ravines. How, then, could a man living in so great a solitude be puffed up? Neither can _we_ find any excuse, that, being in the thick of the fight, we think great things of ourselves. For Abraham, when in company of the Chananæns, said, _I am dust and ashes_, and David, in the din of arms, _I am a worm and no man_, and the Apostle in the midst of the world, _I am not_ _worthy to be called an apostle_. Therefore, what shall we have to say for ourselves, if, even with these great examples before us, we are not sober? As _they_ are worthy of a thousand crowns for being the first to walk upon the path of goodness, so do we deserve as many chastisements for not arriving at a like zeal, neither for the example of those who have departed hence and lie in their sepulchres, nor for the living who are wonderful through their deeds. What could you allege for not being converted? Are you unlettered, and have you not read the epitaphs so as to know the goodness of those men of old? This is indeed the chief point of accusation, the church being ever open, not to go in and partake of those pure waters. Besides, if you did not know the dead through their epitaphs, you should have had these living men before your eyes. ‘But if there was no one to point them out to us?’ Come with me and I will show you the dwelling-places of these holy ones: come and learn a useful lesson from them. They are shining lights throughout the world, they surround cities like strong walls. They have taken possession of deserts in order to teach you to look down upon worldly agitations. They, then, in this strength of theirs, are able to enjoy peace in the midst of the tempest: you, who are tossed about on all sides, should be at rest, and have a short breathing time from the ever rolling waves.

· · · · · · ·

The Prisoner of Jesus Christ.
(_Homilies on Epistle to the Ephesians_, viii., vol. iv., p. 175.)