De beneficentia

Gregory Bishop of Nyssa On Beneficence. The president of this church and the teachers of unerring piety and of the life according to virtue have great similarity to the grammarians and the instructors of the first elements. For just as they, having received from their fathers the infants and children still lisping, do not immediately lead them to the more perfect lessons, but first, having traced alpha in the wax and the rest of the letters, they teach them to know their names and exercise the hand on the written forms, and after this they advance them to syllables and subsequently instruct them in the pronunciation of words; so also the leaders of the church, first introducing the hearer to the elementary lessons, provide the knowledge of the more perfect things by progression. Since, then, in the two preceding days we have disciplined the pleasure of the throat and the belly, do not think that I will say the usual things today as well, that it is good to despise meats and abstain from laughter-loving and bacchic wine, and to restrain the cooks and stop the hand of the cupbearer from toiling. For these things have been sufficiently said by me, and you have shown the counsel effective through your deeds. But since you have practiced the first lesson, it is good to impart by advancement the greater and more manly teachings from now on. There is, therefore, a bodiless fasting and an immaterial continence, the abstinence from evils revolving around the soul, and for its sake this abstinence from foods was also legislated for us. Fast, then, from wickedness.

Practice self-control from the desire for others' possessions; abstain from unjust gain; starve the love of money for mammon; let no treasure in the house come from violence and plunder. For what benefit is it if you do not bring meat to your mouth but bite your brother with wickedness? Or what profit is there if you do not eat your own but take the poor man's unjustly? And what kind of piety is this, if you drink water but weave deceit and thirst for blood from wickedness? Judas certainly fasted along with the eleven, but not having subdued his avaricious character, he gained nothing for his salvation from abstinence. And the devil does not eat (for he is an incorporeal spirit), but fell from the heights because of wickedness. Likewise, each of the demons neither partakes of dishes nor is accused of heavy drinking or drunkenness (for nature has separated them from participation in foods), yet both by night and by day, wandering in the air, they are makers and servants of wickedness and diligently carry out their plots against us. They waste away with envy and malice if we humans are to be akin to God, while they have fallen from their affinity to the good. Therefore, let a philosophical way of life guide the life of Christians, and let the soul flee the harm of wickedness. For if, while abstaining from wine and meat, we are liable to sins of intention, I declare and testify beforehand that water and vegetables and a bloodless table will benefit us nothing, if we have an inner disposition unlike our outward appearance. Fasting was legislated for the purity of the soul.

But if that intention is also defiled in its other activities, why do we vainly add the water we drink to the filth that cannot be washed away and that cultivates so much mire? What benefit is there from bodily fasting if the mind is not pure? For there is no benefit if the chariot is strong and the four-horse team well-ordered while the charioteer is mad. What benefit is there from a well-fitted ship if the helmsman is drunk? Fasting is a foundation of virtue. But just as a foundation of a house and a keel of a ship are useless and unprofitable, even if they are laid very stoutly, unless the subsequent parts are skillfully built upon them, so this self-control is of no benefit unless it receives the other justice that is fitting and consequent. Let fear of God teach the tongue to utter what is proper, not to speak vain things, to know times and measures, and to give necessary speech and apt reply; to speak rhythmically, not to pelt those who meet with it with vehemence like hail. For this reason that very thin membrane that binds it to the lower jaw is called a bridle, so that it may not speak disorderly and ungovernably. Let it bless and not revile; let it sing psalms and not blaspheme; let it speak well and not slander. Let the hasty hand be bound by the memory of God as by a chain. For this reason we fast, because insults and slaps outraged our Lamb before the nails. Let us not, then, the disciples of Christ, emulate the Jewish manner. For if we are so disposed, Isaiah will say to us: Why do you fast for judgments and fights and strike the lowly with your fists?

Learn from the same prophet also the works of guileless and pure fasting: Loosen every bond of injustice, dissolve the tangles of violent contracts, break your bread for the hungry and lead the homeless poor into your house. The present time has brought us great abundance of the naked and the homeless; for a multitude of captives is at everyone’s doors. The stranger and the migrant are not lacking, and the begging hand can be seen stretched out everywhere. For these, the open air is a house, and their lodgings are porticoes, streets, and the more deserted parts of the marketplace. Like night ravens and owls, they nest in holes. Their clothing is tattered rags; their farming is the intention of those who pity them; their food is whatever may fall from a chance encounter; their drink, like that of the beasts, is from springs; their cup is the hollow of their hands; their storehouse is their bosom, if it is not leaky but holds what is put in; their table is the pressing together of their knees; their bed is the ground; their bath is a river or a lake, which God gave common to all and without preparation. Their life is wandering and wild, not being so from the beginning, but arising from disaster and necessity. To these, the faster, give aid. Be generous toward the unfortunate among your brothers. What you have subtracted from your own belly, add to the hungry. Let the fear of God be a just equalizer. Heal with temperate self-control two passions opposed to each other: your own surfeit and your brother’s hunger. For this is what physicians do: they empty some and fill others, so that by addition and subtraction health is managed for each.

Be persuaded by this good counsel: let the word of the wealthy open their doors; let counsel bring the poor man to the one who has means; let not discourse enrich the distressed; let the pre-eternal word of God, through a servant's word, give them both house and bed and table; cultivate what is needful for them with your possessions. In addition to these, there are many other poor who are sick and bedridden. Let each one examine his neighbors. Do not allow your neighbor to be tended by another; do not let another take the treasure that lies beside you; embrace the afflicted as gold; clasp the one who is suffering as your own health, as the salvation of your wife, children, servants, and the whole household. The poor man who is also ill is a double pauper: for those who are healthy but destitute go from door to door and walk to those who have means, and sitting at the crossroads they call out to all who pass by, but those who are bound by disease, confined in narrow lodgings and cramped corners, like Daniel in the pit, await you, the pious and lover of the poor, as Habakkuk did. Become the prophet's companion through almsgiving; be a swift and unhesitating provider to the one in need. Giving is not a loss; do not be afraid; the fruit of almsgiving sprouts abundantly. Sow

giving, you will fill the house with good handfuls. But you will say: I too am poor. So be it; let it be granted. Give what you have; for God does not ask beyond your ability. You give bread, another a cup of wine, another a garment, and thus through a collection the misfortune of one is resolved. Not even Moses took the expense of the tabernacle from a single minister, but from the whole people. For the wealthy one brought gold to him, another silver, the poor one skins, and the one poorer than that hair. Do you see how even the widow's quadrans surpassed the offerings of the rich? For she emptied all that she had, while from them only a little fell away. Do not despise those who lie before you as worthless. Consider who they are, and you will find their dignity: they have put on the face of our Savior. For the lover of humanity has lent them his own face, so that through it they may shame the unsympathetic and the haters of the poor, just as those who hold up royal images against those who oppress them, in order to shame the despiser by the form of the ruler. These are the stewards of expected goods, the gatekeepers of the kingdom, who open the doors to the good and close them to the difficult and misanthropic; they are both vehement accusers and good advocates; they advocate and accuse, not by speaking, but by being seen by the judge. For the work done concerning them cries out to the knower of hearts more clearly than any herald.

Through these things the fearful judgment seat of God has been recorded for us in the Gospels, which you have often heard. For there I saw the Son of Man coming from the heavens, treading the air as if it were earth, and escorted by the many thousands of angels. Then a throne of glory was raised up, and upon it the king sat in front, and every tribe of men, as many as had come into being, had been illuminated by the sun, and had drawn in this air, was divided into two parts, and the multitude stood before the judgment seat. Those on the right were called lambs; I heard those on the other side called goats, having drawn the names upon themselves from the likeness of their ways. And there were dialogues of the judge with those being judged, and responses of those being accused to the king. And what was fitting was allotted to each: for those who had lived the best life, enjoyment of kingdoms; for the misanthropic and wicked, punishment by fire, and this everlasting. All things were written carefully, and the judgment seat was accurately depicted for us by the word, for no other reason than to learn the goodness of beneficence. For this is what sustains life, mother of the poor, teacher of the rich, good nurturer of the young, caretaker of the elderly, treasury of the needy, common harbor of the unfortunate, distributing to every age and misfortune the providence that comes from itself.

For just as the judges of vanity, by the trumpet signal, proclaim their ambition and promise the distribution of wealth to all those of the wrestling ground, so beneficence calls to itself all who are in difficulties and circumstances, not distributing prizes of blows to those who approach, but remedies for misfortunes. And this is higher than every praiseworthy action, the assessor of God, the friend of the good, and having much affinity with him. Thus, before all things, God himself appears to us as the one who personally performs good and philanthropic actions. For the creation of the earth, the ordering of the heavens, the orderly alternation of the seasons, the heat of the sun, the cold that generates ice, and all the individual things—God does not do these for himself (for he is in need of none such), but he works continuously on our behalf, an invisible farmer of human sustenance, a timely sower and a skilled water-channeler. For he gives, according to Isaiah, seed to the sower, and water from the clouds, now gently sprinkling the earth, again pouring violently over the furrows. And when the crops have grown

and the green grass passes by, scattering the clouds of the whole sky, then stripping away every veil, it sets the sun bare before them, extending its hot and fiery ray, so that the ears of grain may become ripe for cutting. It also nourishes the vine in its seasons, preparing drink for the thirsty, and it nourishes for us herds of various kinds, so that there may be abundant relish for men; and the hides of some, working wool, provide covering, while those of others produce shoes for us. Do you see that the first discoverer of beneficence is God, thus feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, and clothing the naked, as has been said before? But if you wish to hear how he also heals the afflicted, learn: who taught the bee to work the wax and, along with it, the honey? Who made the pine, the terebinth, and the mastic tree drip that rich juice? Who created the land of the Indians as a mother of dry and fragrant fruits? Who caused the olive to grow, an aid against bodily labors and pains? Who gave us the discernment of roots and herbs and the learning of their qualities? Who established the medical art, productive of health? Who caused springs of hot waters to rise from the earth, some healing our cold and moist condition, others dissolving the dry or compacted? And it is fitting to say opportunely, according to Baruch: This one discovered every path of knowledge and gave it to Jacob, his servant. For this reason, there are arts fiery and without fire, and others watery, and countless discoveries of pursuits, so that the service for the needs of life may be accomplished without deficiency.

And God is like this, the first discoverer of beneficence and the generous and compassionate provider of all that is necessary for us. But we, who are taught by every single letter of Scripture to emulate our own Lord and Creator, insofar as the imitation of the blessed and immortal one is attainable by the mortal, sweep everything away for our own enjoyment: we assign some things to our own life, and store others away for our heirs; but there is no account taken of those who fare badly, nor any good concern for the poor. O the pitilessness of this mindset! A man sees another man lacking bread and not having the necessary kindling of nourishment for life. He does not readily supply and extend salvation, but looks on as something like a flourishing plant is pitifully dried up from lack of water, even while he himself has an overflowing abundance and could channel comfort from his possessions to many. For just as the flow of a single spring fattens many spread-out plains, so too the wealth of a single house is sufficient to preserve whole populations of the poor, only if a grudging and unsociable disposition does not, like a stone falling into the channel, block the flow. Do not give everything to the flesh; let us also live a little for God. For luxury, when it enters through enjoyment, serves only a small part of the flesh, the throat; and having fastened its materials to the belly, it ends at the latrine. But mercy and beneficence are things dear to God, and in whatever man they dwell, they deify him and mold him into an imitation of the Good, so that he may be an image of the first, pure, and every mind-transcending substance. And what end does such zeal promise?

Here there is beautiful hope and joyful expectation, and in the hereafter, when we have cast off this flowing flesh and put on incorruption, a blessed life, unending and indestructible, prepared in some wonderful states of well-being now unknown to us. Therefore, you who were created rational and have the mind as interpreter and teacher of divine things, do not be lured by transitory things. Acquire instead those things that never abandon their possessor. Set limits on the use of life. Do not let everything be ours, but let a portion belong also to the poor, the beloved of God. For all things belong to God, the common father; and we are brothers, as of the same race. For brothers, the best and most just thing is to share the inheritance in equal portion. In second order, even if one or another has appropriated the greater share, at least let the remainder profit the ones left out. But if someone wishes to be absolute master of everything, excluding his brothers even from a third or fifth portion, this man is a bitter tyrant, an implacable barbarian, an insatiable beast, only delighting in gaping over the feast—nay, even wilder than the beasts themselves. For a wolf admits another wolf to its prey, and many dogs together tear apart one body; but he, insatiable, admits none of his own kind to a share of wealth. Let a moderate table suffice for you. Do not fall into the sea of licentious gluttony; for the shipwreck there is grievous, not dashed against hidden rocks, but thrusting into the deepest darkness, whence one who falls in will never emerge. Use, do not abuse.

This Paul also taught you. Restrain yourself for measured enjoyment; do not revel in pleasures; do not be the destruction of all animals indiscriminately—of large quadrupeds, small quadrupeds, birds, fish, the easily procured, the rare, the cheap, the costly; do not fill a single belly with the sweat of many hunters, as if it were a very deep well that is not filled by the many hands of those who heap it up. Because of the luxurious, neither the depth of the sea remains undisturbed, nor are only the fish that swim in the water caught, but also all marine creatures that float in the sediment of the waters are dragged to the mainland and this air. Thus the kinds of shellfish have not escaped notice; the sea urchin is caught, the cuttlefish crawling is netted, the octopus clinging to rocks is torn away, the snails are dragged from the lowest depths, and all kinds of creatures—both those that swim on the surface waves and those that inhabit the sea floor—are brought forth into this air, as the contrivance of pleasure-lovers devises various snares against them. And what follows for the luxurious? For it is necessary that evil, wherever it strikes like a disease, draws along its attendant materials. Therefore, those who set a dainty and Sybaritic table are necessarily drawn into the construction of magnificent buildings and spend their great wealth on the size of houses and elaborate ornamentation.

In addition to these things, they take delight in their couches, they concern themselves with flowery and variegated garments, and they have tables of many talents forged of silver, some hammered to smoothness, others variegated with engraving, so that at the same time as the throat, the eye may also feast on the stories. Reckon for me the following: mixing bowls, tripods, jars, pouring vessels, dishes for relishes, countless kinds of drinking cups, jesters, mimes, citharists, singers, elegant speakers, musicians male and female, dancing girls—the whole chain of licentiousness—boys feminized by their long hair, shameless girls, sisters of Herodias in their disorder, who slay John, the godlike and philosophical mind in each person. While all these things are being performed in the house, countless Lazaruses sit by the gate, some grievously ulcerated, others with an eye knocked out, others groaning from the mutilation of their feet, and some of them crawling completely, having suffered the loss of all their limbs. They cry out but are not heard, for the sound of flutes and the melodies of the songs sung on the spot and the loud guffaw of broad laughter prevent it. And if they should annoy the doors too much, the bold gatekeeper of a pitiless master, leaping up from somewhere, drives them away with rods, calling them dogs and scraping their wounds with whips. And the friends of Christ depart, the very sum of the commandments, having obtained not a scrap of bread, not a morsel of relish, but having gained insults and blows as profit. Inside, in the workshop of Mammon, some, like ships taking on too much water, spew out their food, while others sleep at the table with the drinking cups standing by.

The sin is twofold in that shameful house: one part concerns the surfeit of the drunkards, the other the hunger of the driven-away poor. If God oversees these things—as indeed he does—what end of life do you imagine, you who hate the poor? Tell me: do you not know that the holy Gospel cries out and testifies to all the terrifying and fearful examples for the sake of such things? And there is recorded one who, raised in fine linen and entangled in an abyss of evils, roars and groans heavily; another, of like character, was condemned to an unexpected death, planning morning revelry in the evening and not reaching the dawn's ray. We are mortal in faith and immortal in enjoyment—for such is our disposition, we who wish to gratify everything to the flattery of the flesh, as if we were undeparted masters of households, as if perpetual lords of the earth, worrying about sowing in summer and hoping for the joy of harvest in sowing; planting the plane tree and hoping for the shade of the tall tree; fixing the date-palm kernel and awaiting the sweetness of its fruits; and doing this often in gray hair, when the autumn of life has set in, when the winter of death is near, and there remain for life not a cycle of years, but three or four days. Let us then, who are rational, consider that our life is transient and time flowing, unstable and uncontainable, like the current of a river, driving everything that happens in it toward the end of corruption; and would that, though short and perishable, it were without accountability.

This is the danger: that at every hour, and indeed for every word we utter, we owe an account to the impartial tribunal. Therefore the blessed psalmist, raising himself to a thought similar to what is now being said, desires to know the term of his own end. He earnestly entreats God to be taught the number of his remaining days, so that he may prepare for the works of his departure, and not be suddenly disturbed like an unprepared traveler who, while walking, seeks about for the necessary provisions. So he speaks thus: "Reveal to me, Lord, my end, and what the number of my days is, that I may know what I lack. Behold, you have set my days as a wrestler's span, and my substance is as nothing before you." See the prudent concern of a good soul, and this in a royal dignity. For he beholds the King of kings and the Judge of judges, and seeks to depart having obtained the perfect adornment of the commandments, a complete and unimpaired citizen of that life yonder, which may it be granted to all of us to attain by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is glory for the ages. Amen.