Ad eos qui scandalizati sunt

Of our father among the saints, John, Archbishop of Constantinople, to those who are scandalized at the lawless deeds that are taking place and at the persecution and perversion of the people and of many priests, and concerning the providence of God, and concerning the incomprehensible. The sons of physicians, whenever they are about to treat some who are feverish or suffering from some other disease, first seek to see the sick themselves, because being far away from them they would not be able to contribute what is in their power; for such is the art itself and such is the nature of those diseases. But we, who have earnestly desired to heal not one or two somewhere, but all who are scandalized throughout the inhabited world, have no need of any such thing. For we do not ask to enter into anyone's house among the sick, nor to learn where they lie, nor indeed do we seek to see the sick themselves. We do not handle instruments, we do not incur expense of money, ordering the sick to buy what is needed for treatment; but even if they are unknown to us, even if they are settled at the very ends of the inhabited world, even if among barbarians, even if lying in the very depths of poverty, even if poor with such poverty as to lack even necessary food, none of these things becomes a hindrance to us for healing; but established in one place, without instruments and drugs and foods and drinks and money and long journeys, we drive away this disease. How and in what manner? By preparing the medicine of the word, which becomes all these things to the sick, and better than all the things mentioned.

For it nourishes more than bread, corrects more than medicine, and burns more intensely than fire, causing no pain, but checking the foul streams of evil thoughts; and it cuts away the putrid parts more sharply than iron, without pain, and in doing this it incurs no expense of money, nor does it wear away poverty. Having prepared this medicine, then, we are sent to all, and all, I know, will enjoy the healing, if only they attend to what is said with exactness and goodwill.

Chapter 1. That it is necessary to state the cause from which the scandal was produced. Since in the case of bodies too it is not a small but even a very great contributor to deliverance from sickness for the sick person to learn the origin of his sickness—for he will not only be delivered from the disease that holds him by learning this, but will not even fall into it afterward, once he knows the cause from which he once fell into it and guards against it—come, let us also first teach this to those who are sick with such things: whence this sickness of scandal has come to them. For if they should learn this, and should wish to guard against it with exactness, they will be delivered not only from this sickness, nor only now, but continually from this and from many others besides. For such is the nature of this medicine as both to heal the present ailment and to become a preventive against other passions. For it is not one or two or three, but many are the things in the present life that cause scandal to the weaker.

And our discourse promises to set free those who have been caught by all these things, if only they are willing—which I also said before—both to learn and to keep what is said. And I undertake this healing, composing it not only from the divine Scriptures, but also from the things that happen and continually occur in the present life, so that the correction may be common even to those who do not attend to the Scriptures, if they are willing. For I will not cease continually repeating this: for by necessity and force, and against one's will, this cure can never be healed, nor by one who does not accept the divine oracles; and from this, and more from this than from the demonstration of facts. For one must believe the declaration of God to be more trustworthy than things seen. For this reason also a harsher punishment awaits those who are not corrected, because having received the Scriptures, they reap from them no benefit for such healing. So that they may not suffer this, come, let us now begin the correction, first stating the cause of the disease.

2. Chapter 2. That it is perilous and full of derangement to be meddlesome and to pry into the ineffable wisdom of God. What, then, is the cause of so great a sickness? The meddlesome and curious mind, and the wish to know all the causes of all that happens, and to strive contentiously against the incomprehensible and ineffable providence of God, and shamelessly to pry and meddle into that which is boundless and unsearchable. And yet who has been wiser than Paul? For tell me, was he not a vessel of election? Did he not draw upon himself the great and ineffable grace of the Spirit? Did he not have Christ speaking in him? Was he not a partaker of the secret words of God? Did he not alone hear what it was not permitted for any man to speak? Was he not caught up into paradise? Was he not carried up to the third heaven? Did he not run around land and sea? Did he not persuade barbarians to philosophize? Did he not have many and varied workings of the Spirit? Did he not set whole peoples and cities in order? Did not God bring the whole inhabited world into his hands? But nevertheless, so great and so eminent a man, so wise and powerful and spiritual, who had enjoyed so much—when he falls into the examination of the providence of God, and not even of providence as a whole, but only into a part of it—hear how he is astonished, how he is dizzy, how he leaps back quickly, yielding to the incomprehensible.

When, therefore, it was being considered—not how God provides for angels and archangels and the cherubim and the seraphim and the other invisible powers, nor how for sun and moon and heaven and earth and sea, nor how for the whole race of mankind, nor how for irrational creatures and plants and seeds and herbs and airs and winds and springs and rivers, nor for natural generation and growth and nourishment and the other such things—but having taken one single part of his providence, that concerning Jews and Greeks (for he was going through the entire account of these things, teaching how he called those from the Gentiles, how he thrust away those from the Jews, and how by mercy he brought about the salvation of both)—hear what he says. For when he saw a vast sea opened up, and in that very part wished to peer into the depth of this providence of his, as if seized by a kind of vertigo at the ineffable character of this economy, and having marveled and been struck with amazement at the unutterable, the boundless, the inexpressible, the incomprehensible nature of the wisdom and providence of God, he leaped back, dismissing these considerations and crying out with great amazement these words: "O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God." Then, showing that he saw the depth, but could not learn how great it was, he added: "How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past finding out." He did not say merely incomprehensible, but also

His judgments are unsearchable. For not only can no one comprehend them, but no one can even make a beginning of searching them out; so that not only is one unable to reach the end, but he cannot even trace out the beginning of his dispensations. And having said, How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out, and having marveled and been astonished, he brought his discourse to a doxology, adding and saying: For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? Or who has first given to him, and it shall be repaid to him? For of him and through him and to him are all things; to him be the glory forever. Amen. What he says is of this sort: He himself is the source, he himself the cause of good things, he needs no partner, he needs no counselor; not borrowing knowledge or understanding from another, he accomplishes and works wonders; but he himself is the beginning and cause and source of all good things, he himself the creator, he himself brought them into being when they were not, and he himself, once brought forth, sustains and orders and preserves them as he wills. For the words Of him and through him and to him are all things show this: that he is the cause of existing things and the creator and the one who sustains and holds together all things. Then again, recalling the gift that has come to us, he says elsewhere: Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift. And the peace given to us he shows to be not only beyond speech and surpassing narration, but also higher than all understanding; therefore he says:

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts.” If, then, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge is boundless, and his judgments are unsearchable and his ways past tracing out, and his gift beyond telling, and his peace surpasses all understanding—not my understanding, nor yours, nor some other man’s, nor only that of Paul and Peter, but even of the archangels themselves and the powers above—what defense will you have, tell me? What excuse, when you are possessed by such madness and folly, wishing to grasp what is past tracing out and demanding an account of the whole of God’s providence? For if Paul, who enjoyed such great knowledge and had such ineffable boldness of speech and was filled with so many charisms, yields and stands aside from the knowledge that is subject to inquiry, and not only cannot find it but cannot even search out its beginning, since it is not possible—how is he not more wretched than all and raving with the most grievous madness, who takes the opposite road from that man? For he did not say these things only, but also once, writing to the Corinthians about knowledge and showing that even if we have learned many things, we have a small and exceedingly slight measure of knowledge, he speaks somehow thus: “If anyone thinks he has known anything, he has not yet known as he ought to know.” Then, showing that knowledge is far beyond us and that the greater part is stored up for the future time, while a little has been given to us, he added: “We know in part and we prophesy in part.

But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.” And he did not stop even here, but wishing to show how great is the distance between this knowledge and that, and that much is still lacking, he makes this clear through certain images, saying: “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, in a riddle, but then face to face.” Do you see how great the distance is? As great as between a child and a perfect man; as great as between a glass and a riddle and the other unclear vision of things, compared to clear vision; for this is what “face to face” means. Why then do you rave and rage, boldly attempting forbidden things rashly and in vain? Why do you not obey Paul when he says: “Nay but, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? Shall the thing formed say to him who formed it: Why have you made me thus?” Do you see how great an obedience he demands? How great a silence? For he does not say this to abolish our free will—far be it!—but to make clear that the one who seeks these things must be as speechless as the nature of clay, following what

...if the craftsman leads, not resisting nor being meddlesome. Therefore he also reminds us of our own nature, and makes mention of clay and of the potter. And yet the substance of the potter and of the clay is the same. But if, where the substance is the same, such great is the obedience, where the distance is infinite both of substance and of knowledge and of all other things, what forgiveness shall he obtain who is so reckless and shameless as to busy himself with the things of God who made him? Consider, O man, who you are; for this is what he declares by what he says: "Who are you?" Are you not clay? Are you not ashes and dust? Are you not dust? Are you not smoke? Are you not grass? Are you not the flower of grass? For all these images the prophets continually bring forward, striving to set forth the cheapness of our nature. But he who is busied with by you is incorruptible, unchangeable, always being and being in the same way, without beginning, without end, incomprehensible, surpassing mind, conquering reasoning, inexpressible, unspeakable, incomprehensible not to me and to you only and to prophets and apostles, but also to the powers above, the pure, the invisible, the incorporeal, those that dwell continually in heaven.

3. Chapter 3. That the divine nature is incomprehensible not only to us but also to the powers above. When, then, you see the seraphim flying around that high and exalted throne, walling off their own eyes with the spreading of their wings and covering their feet and backs and faces and sending forth a cry full of amazement, do not suppose that they have wings and feet and pinions; for those powers are invisible. But through these images, consider the unapproachable and incomprehensible nature of him who sits upon the throne. For he is incomprehensible and unapproachable even to them, although he condescends; for he was not then appearing as what he was. For God does not sit, nor is he contained by a throne, nor encompassed by a place. But if they could not see him sitting and established upon a throne and encircled by them—all of which belongs to one condescending, not one sitting—but, unable to bear the lightning that leapt forth from there, they walled off their eyes with the spreading of their wings and only glorified him, only hymned him, bringing forth with great trembling that mystic song of sanctification: Will you go off and bury yourself and sink down, wishing with such great audacity to busy yourself with the providence of the ineffable and unutterable and to the powers above incomprehensible power of God? For all things of his are clear only to the Son and the Holy Spirit, with exactness, and to no other; and of these things John the evangelist indicated one part, and Paul the apostle the other.

The son of thunder, then, who was exceedingly beloved by Christ and had this as a token, which was a proof of the greatest virtue, and who enjoyed such great boldness as even to recline upon his breast, says thus: "No one has ever seen God," calling knowledge sight; "The only-begotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he has declared him." Christ also, making this clear through himself when long ago he spoke to the people of the Hebrews, says: "No one has seen the Father except the one who is from God; this one has seen the Father." And the vessel of election, having fallen into the account of his economy and wishing to say all the secret things which he learned—how he knew them—speaks thus: "We speak wisdom in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God foreordained before the ages for our glory, which none of the rulers of this age knew. For if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written, what eye has not seen and ear has not heard and has not arisen in the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love

Him." How then did we come to know these things, O Paul? Who is it that disclosed and made clear these things—the unseen, the unheard, the things that did not enter into the heart of man? Tell and show who it is that brought us such great knowledge. "But to us," he says, "God has revealed them through his Spirit." Then, lest anyone should suppose that he knows only these things which God has revealed to us through him, and does not also possess all knowledge, he added: "For the Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who among men knows the things of a man, except the spirit of the man that is in him? So also no one knows the things of God, except the Spirit of God." What he says is of this sort: Just as a man himself knows his own affairs, and what he purposes and holds in his mind, and understands all things with precision, so also the Holy Spirit knows with precision all the unutterable knowledge of God. Having said, then, "So also no one knows the things of God, except the Spirit of God," he excluded from this precise knowledge not only men but also the entire creation above. Therefore also some wise word exhorts: "Seek not things too hard for you, and search not into things stronger than yourself; think upon the things that are commanded you, for more than the understanding of men has been shown to you." What he says is of this sort: Not even these things which you have, do you have them all by having learned them from yourself, nor did nature suffice for you for the knowledge of all things, but from above you received the knowledge of the greater part; for it was far greater than to be comprehended by your understanding.

Why then do you strive from your own resources to search out things too deep, when even of the things you know, many surpass your understanding, and you have them from elsewhere? Paul also hinted at this when he said: "For what do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not receive it?" Cease, then, at last, late though it be, from such contentiousness, and accept that most wise counsel which says: "Do not say, 'What is this?' or 'For what purpose is this?' For all things were created for their own use."

4. Chapter 4. That the prophet Moses also, in the opening of his book, did away with perilous curiosity by a single word. For on this account, since all creation came into being and received its own order, and this harmonious and wondrous work, full of great amazement, was set forth in the midst, and many of the foolish and mad were going to take issue with what had been made—see how, forestalling their untimely judgment and insane verdict, the lawgiver stopped every shameless tongue with a single word, saying: "God saw all things that he had made, and behold, they were very good." For since among things seen there was not light only but also darkness; not fruits only but also thorns; not cultivated trees only but also wild ones; not level plains only but also mountains and glens and ravines; not men only but also venomous reptiles; not fish only but also sea-monsters; not calm seas only but also a sea that cannot be sailed; not the sun only and moon and stars but also thunderbolts and hurricanes; not gentle winds only but also violent storms;

Not only doves and songbirds, but also kites and hawks and vultures and other man-eating creatures; not only sheep and cattle, but also wolves and leopards and lions; not only deer and hares and gazelles, but also scorpions and vipers and serpents; and among plants, not only wholesome herbs, but also poisonous ones—and many were to be scandalized by these and to give birth to heresies. After the things that came to be had come to be, and each had received its own order, he shows the Creator praising what he had made, item by item—or rather, both each one of them and all together—so that, having learned his judgment, even if someone is exceedingly reckless and shameless, he may no longer pry curiously into any of the things seen. For this reason, having said that light came to be, he added: "And God saw the light, that it was good," and so on for each one. Then, so as not to prolong the account by naming everything individually, he declares concerning all at once and simply, and again says: "God saw all things whatsoever he made, and behold, they were very good." Not because God came to know after they came to be that what was made was good—far be it! For if a human craftsman, having learned the principles of his craft before the things are made, knows that what will come from him will be good, much more did that ineffable wisdom, which brought all things forth by its will alone, know before their coming to be that they were good. For he would not have brought them forth if he had not known. For what reason, then, is it spoken thus? For the reason I have stated. Having heard the prophet saying to you that God saw them and praised them, do not seek any further examination and proof of their beauty, nor say: "How are they good?

For the decision made through the maker's vote and judgment is clearer than the demonstration through works. For this reason he also used a more substantial expression. For just as if someone wishing to buy medicines, being inexperienced, would ask that they first be shown to the physician, and if he learns clearly that the physician saw them and praised them, he seeks no other proof of their excellence, but having heard that the physician saw them and praised them, he is satisfied with the craftsman's vote, so indeed Moses also, wishing to remove all shameless curiosity from those who were afterward to enjoy creation, reported and said that God saw them and praised them and voted that they were good—and not simply good, but exceedingly good. Do not, then, be curious, nor busy yourself with reasonings about things that have come into being, since you have such testimony of their beauty. For if you are not satisfied with this word, but wish to come to an inquiry into things that have come into being, you will cast yourself alone into a strait of reasonings and waves that produce a great storm; you will know nothing more, but you will bring upon yourself a grievous shipwreck. For you will not be able to find all the reasons for each of the things that have come into being, but you will even slander many of the things that now seem beautiful to you, if you employ an undiscerning judgment. For so weak is the reasoning of men that many have often been turned to opposite conclusions and stood diametrically against one another in their vote concerning creation. For the children of the Greeks, admiring it beyond what is due and exceeding the measure, supposed it to be a god.

But the Manichaeans and other heretics again—some said that it was not the work of a good God, while others, cutting off one part of it, cast it upon some automatic matter and judged it unworthy of God's creation. Thus, as I said before, if someone were to use reasonings and an unthinking judgment, he would slander many of the things that seem to be beautiful. For what do you think is more beautiful than the sun? But nevertheless this bright and sweet star damages weak eyes and scorches the earth, sending forth hotter rays, and breeds fevers, and often has dried up fruit and made it useless, and has made trees unfruitful, and has rendered a part of the inhabited world uninhabitable for us. What then, tell me, shall we slander the sun for this? Far be it! But let us let our reasonings be at rest and their tumult, and let us cling to that rock, and to the saying that says: "And God saw all things that he had made, and behold, they were very good," since even those things which I have just enumerated are very good and useful. But, as I said before, one must always return to that saying and say: "Behold, all things that God has made are very good." But is it good to luxuriate and laugh and be in pleasure? Then hear Solomon, who had experience of every form of luxury, saying: "It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of drinking." But is night evil? For one must handle the argument from opposites. And yet this is rest from labors, release from cares, relief from sicknesses, no small refreshment from fears and dangers; fresh

It forms the body, gives vigor to the mind, and gives rest to the flesh when it is weary. But is sickness an evil? From where, then, was Lazarus crowned? But is poverty an evil? And from where did Job gain good repute? But are afflictions, repeated and continuous? And from where were the apostles proclaimed? And what kind of way is the one that leads to life? Is it not the narrow and constrained one? Do not, then, say: Why this? For what purpose is this? But both in the case of God's dispensations and in the case of his created works, render to God who made you the same silence that the clay affords the potter.

5. Chapter 5. That one must be persuaded that God provides for all things, and that for those who doubt, the proof through creation is the greatest. What then? says he. Do you not wish me to know clearly and to believe that God provides for all things? Yes, indeed, and I both wish it and pray for it and desire it exceedingly; but not to pry curiously into his providence, nor to busy myself overmuch with it. For if you know it and have convinced yourself, do not seek further; but if you doubt, ask the earth, the heaven, the sun, the moon; ask the varied kinds of irrational creatures, the seeds, the plants, the voiceless fish, the rocks, the mountains, the glens, the hills, the night, the day. For the providence of God is clearer than the sun and its very ray, and at every season and in every place, in desert and in inhabited land and in uninhabited, on land and in sea, and wherever you may arrive, you will see clear and sufficient memorials of this providence, both old and new, and voices clearer than this our rational voice, borne from every side and instructing whoever wishes to hear in his care for us.

Therefore the prophet also, showing the preeminence of these voices, said: "There are no speeches, nor words whose voices are not heard." For our voice is known only to those who speak the same language, but no longer to those of other tongues; whereas the voice that comes through creation is heard by all the nations throughout the inhabited world.

6. Chapter 6. On the love of God, which surpasses all love beyond measure. For the fair-minded, the mere declaration of God suffices even before the demonstration through works, showing not only his providence but also the vehement love he has for us. For he does not merely provide for us, but also loves and exceedingly loves us with a certain ineffable love—a love free from passion, yet most fervent and most intense and genuine and indissoluble and unable to be quenched. And wishing to set this forth, the divine Scripture brings forward images drawn from human beings, and brings forward many examples of love and providence and care. Yet it does not wish us to stop at these alone, but to surpass the examples in our reasoning. Nor does it bring these forward as though the affection were sufficient, but as being familiar to the hearers and more able than other things to show this. I mean something like this. When certain people were once lamenting and mourning and saying, "The Lord has forsaken me, and God of Israel has forgotten me," then the prophet adds, saying: "Will a woman forget her child, or fail to have compassion on the offspring of her womb?" saying this: that just as she would not forget her own children, so neither would God forget the race of human beings.

Then, so that you may learn that the prophet brought forward this image, not so much wishing to show the measure of God's love—how great a mother's love is for the offspring of her womb—but because this was more than the others a preeminent measure of love and well known (yet the affection of God is much greater than that), he added: "And even if a woman should forget these things, yet I will not forget you, says the Lord." Do you see how he surpassed the measure of a mother? And so that you may learn that from great abundance he surpassed both a mother's tender affection and a father's longing for his children, the prophet says: "As a father has compassion on his sons, the Lord has had compassion on those who fear him." And he himself again introduces this image of love; for he knew that it had something preeminent beyond the others. But the Lord of both prophets and all, showing that God's care surpasses even this measure from great abundance, and that as great as the distance between light and darkness, and between wickedness and goodness, so great is the measure of God's kindness and providence compared with a father's tender affection—hear what he says: "Which of you is there, whose son, if he asks for bread, will he give him a stone? And if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in the heavens give good things to those who ask him"—showing that as great as the distance between wickedness and goodness, so much higher is God's goodness above the care of fathers.

I said these examples so that, when I bring forward other images of love, you may not stop your thought at the measure spoken by the prophets, but having this rule, you may pass beyond it in your reasoning and see the ineffable excess of his love. For he is not satisfied with the measures of nature, but setting them aside and surpassing them, he adds other examples again. For such is the one who loves: he wishes to show this to the beloved through more things; which indeed he himself does, bringing his word out to the magnitude of spatial distances, not so that you may again think his love to be only that great, but because this alone was the measure of distances, exceptional and known to those who hear. And through David he says: "As the height of heaven from the earth, the Lord has strengthened his mercy upon those who fear him"; and: "As far as the east is from the west, he has removed our transgressions far from us"; and through Isaiah: "For my counsels are not as your counsels, nor are my ways as your ways; but as far as heaven is from the earth, so far are my ways from your ways and my thoughts from your thoughts." He said these things after speaking above about the forgiveness of sins and saying: "For I will forgive your transgressions abundantly." Then, showing how much, he brought forward this example; and he is not satisfied with these alone, but brings his word down to another, coarser image. For in Hosea he said: "What shall I do to you, Ephraim? What shall I do to you, Judah? I will set you as Admah and as Zeboiim.

My heart was turned within me; my repentance was troubled. What he means is this: I could not even endure the word of the threat, he says. And he speaks in a human way, not so that you should suspect anything human—far be it—but so that from the crudest expression you may understand the love that is fitting for God, genuine and indissoluble. For just as someone madly in love with a person does not choose to grieve the beloved even by words, so too he says: Since I merely spoke, and grieved by the word, "My heart was turned within me." For he does not refuse to bring forward even these most burdensome images, in order to show the affection, which is especially characteristic of a lover. And he did not stop even there, but proceeds further again, introducing another, deeper example and saying: "As a bridegroom will rejoice over his bride, so will the Lord rejoice over you," because lovers are especially more fervent at the beginning. And this is said not so that you should suspect anything human—for I will not stop saying the same things again—but so that from these things you may see the warmth, the genuineness, the intensity, the fiery nature of the love. Then, having said that he loves as a father and more than

A father, as a mother and more than a mother, as a bridegroom and more than a bridegroom, because as much as the distance from heaven to earth and more than that, because as great as the distance of the east from the west and more than that—not even here does he stop with the images, but he proceeds even further to demonstrate a much humbler example. For when Jonah, after his flight and God's reconciliation with the Ninevites, was at a loss, since the threatened things had not come to pass, and he suffered something human and grew sullen, God commanded the ray of light to send forth a hotter flame, then ordered the earth to sketch out for him a shelter from a gourd and warmed him exceedingly and gave him rest, then grieved him by destroying that shelter, since he saw him relieved by the one and distressed by the other—hear what he says to him: "You had pity on the gourd, for which you did not labor, nor did you nurture it; and shall I not spare Nineveh, the great city, in which dwell more than twelve myriads of men, who do not know their right hand or their left?" What he means is this: The shade of the gourd did not give you such rest as the salvation of the Ninevites gladdened me; nor did the removal of it grieve you as their destruction grieved me. Thus their destruction was contrary to my will. Do you see how even here he goes beyond the image? For he did not say, "You had pity on the gourd," and then fall silent, but he added: "for which you did not labor, nor did you nurture it.

For gardeners especially love those plants on which they have bestowed much labor; and wishing to show that in this respect too he loves the human race with a love of the same kind, he added this: "For if you, he says, were so attached to another's work, how much more I to my own, and that of which I am the maker." Then he also cuts away something from their accusation, saying, "They did not know the right hand or the left," declaring that they had erred rather than out of wickedness, which the outcome of their repentance also showed. And rebuking others who lament as though forsaken, he says these words: "Ask me concerning my sons, and concerning the works of my hands, command me." What he says is of this sort: Who reminds a father and entreats him to provide for his child? Or a craftsman and maker not to let his work fall to ruin? Then, in the case of men you are satisfied with nature and craft as proof of their care, but do you think that I need one to entreat me, so that I may take hold of my children and my works? He said these things, not that they should not entreat, but that they might know that even before their entreaty God does what is his own, yet he wishes also to be entreated, since he knows that from this there is great gain for those who entreat. Do you see how, through these examples, the demonstration of his ineffable providence shines forth more clearly and more brightly than the sun? Now consider.

He brought into the middle the father, the mother, the bridegroom, the distance between heaven and earth, the space between the east and the west, the gardener laboring over vegetables, the builder of things to come, the vehement lover who is disturbed even if he grieves the beloved only as far as words; and through all these things he showed that the goodness of God surpasses all of them by as much as wickedness is inferior to kindness.

7. Chapter 7. Proof of God's providence through creation. For the well-disposed, then, as I said, even these things are sufficient; but since there are some who are made of clay and hard to lead and hard to persuade and wholly fleshly, come, let us demonstrate his providence also through his works, as far as is possible for us. For to set forth the whole of it—or rather not even the smallest fraction of it—is easy; so boundless and ineffable is it, shining forth both through small things and through great, both through things seen and things unseen. Nevertheless, let us for now make the demonstration from things seen. For he made this wondrous and wholly harmonious creation for no other reason than for your sake; and he prepared it so beautiful and so great and so varied and so costly and so enduring and so useful and profitable from every side, both for the nourishment and constitution of the body and for the philosophy of the soul and as a suitable path to the knowledge of God, for your sake. For not even the angels needed it; for how could those who existed even before it came to be? For that they are much older than it, hear what God says when he speaks to Job: "When the stars came to be, all my angels praised me and hymned with a great voice.

that is, struck with amazement at the multitude, the beauty, the position, the usefulness, the variety, the brightness, the radiance, the harmony, and all the other things that those beings survey more accurately than we. Nor did he adorn it with stars only, but he also decked it with the sun and the moon, providing you in each season with much pleasure and much usefulness. For what is more beautiful than heaven, now shining with its ray, now, as it were, with certain flashes of its eyes, illuminating the earth with the boundless multitude of the stars and giving to sailors and travelers certain guides and leaders by the hand? For he who cuts through the sea and sits at the helm and gives himself over to the assaults of waves and the rush of disordered waters and the vehemence of violent winds and the moonless darkness of night, trusting in the guidance from it; and the star lying on high guides by the hand with precision him who sits at so great a distance, as though present near and close by, and brings him to anchor at harbors, not uttering a voice, but by its appearance showing them the ways and granting them to cut through the sea in safety, indicating the seasons, so that now they hold the ship within the harbor, now they boldly lead it out into the open sea and do not, because of the uncertainty of the future, fall unforeseen into a stormy day and endure shipwreck.

And these do not only mark out the measures and seasons of whole years, but they also set before us with great accuracy the hour and the inclination of each night, and they make those who see them know when the greater part of it has passed, and when the lesser part remains, and again the opposite; which is useful not only to sailors but also to travelers, so that they do not begin their journey at an unseasonable hour of the night, nor sit at home at the proper time. This, along with the stars, the courses of the moon also have been entrusted with accuracy. For just as the sun regulates the hours of the day, so also the moon regulates those of the night, and provides much other service—both a temperate diffusion of air and the production of dew for the sprouting of seeds—and from itself furnishing great benefit for the constitution of men, and standing midway between the chorus of the stars and the splendor of the sun; for it is less than the latter, but better than the former and far greater. Nor is the pleasure small for those who behold it from this variety, nor the use, just as the benefit from the seasons is not chance—the benefit from the hours, from the measure, from the magnitude and the brevity, from the ineffable difference; for one may see some of them lesser, others greater and brighter, and appearing at different times.

For the abundance of resourceful wisdom produces great variety everywhere, at once displaying the proof of its own wondrous working, and at the same time providing for the need of those who see, and furnishing both great and ineffable benefit and, along with all these things, pleasure as well. For what is more delightful than the sky, now spread out above our heads like a clean and radiant linen cloth, now variegated like a meadow full of flowers and showing its own crown? For it is not so sweet to see a meadow by day as it is sweet and delightful to see the sky by night, crowned on every side with countless flowers—the flowers of the stars, flowers that never wither but always display their own beauty undiminished. And what is sweeter than it, when the night has passed and the ray has not yet risen, and it is adorned, dyed red like some saffron robe at the first beginnings of the sun's rising? And what sight could be more beautiful than the sun rising at dawn and, in a brief turn of time, illuminating all the earth, all the sea, every mountain and glen and hill, and all the sky with the shafts of its rays, and stripping off the night's covering from things seen and showing us all things bare before our eyes? How could one not be struck with wonder at its courses, its good order, its service unvarying and unimpeded through so many cycles of years, its beauty forever at its prime, its brilliance, its cheerfulness, its purity, which converses with so many bodies and is nowhere defiled?

Besides this, the inexpressible need—the need in seeds, in plants, and in the bodies of humans, of quadrupeds, of fish, of birds, of stones, of herbs; the need on land, in the sea, in the air, in all things simply that are seen? For all things need him and enjoy his provision and become better by partaking of it—not only bodies, nor plants, but also waters, and lakes and springs and rivers, and the very nature of the air, being refined and purified and becoming more transparent. For this reason the psalmist also, wishing to intimate his beauty—the ceaseless brightness, the flourishing season, the flower that never falls, the comeliness, the fair form, the unobstructed service—spoke somehow like this: "In the sun he set his tabernacle," that is, in the heavens themselves; this, calling it the tabernacle of God, he hints at. "And he himself is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber." Then, declaring also the ease of his service, he added: "He will rejoice as a giant to run his course." Then the sufficiency and adequacy for the whole inhabited world: "From the end of heaven is his going out, and his descent to the end of heaven." Then the usefulness and benefit for all: "And there is no one who will hide from his heat." It is possible, if you have not grown weary, to learn his providence also from another source:

from the clouds, from the seasons, from the turnings, from the winds, from the sea and the varied kinds in it, from the earth and the four-footed creatures in it, the creeping things, the birds that fly in the air, the land creatures, from the amphibians in marshes and springs and rivers, from the inhabited world, from the uninhabited, from the seeds that grow, trees, herbs, plants in the deserts, in the places that are not deserts, from those that sprout in plains, in valleys, in mountains, in glens, from those that grow of themselves, from those that grow with labor and cultivation, from the animals that are tame, the untamed, the wild, the hand-reared, the small, the great, from the birds and four-footed creatures and fish and plants and herbs that appear in winter, in summer, in autumn, from those that come about in the night, from those in the day, from the rains, from the measure of the years, from death, from life, from the labor allotted to us, from despondency, from relief, from the foods and drinks given to us, from the pursuits, from the crafts, from woods, from stones, from the mountains that bear metal, from the sea that is sailed, from the one that is not sailed, from the islands, from the harbors, from the shores, from the surface of the deep, from the depth of the waters, from the nature of the elements of which the world has been constituted for us, from the ordering of the seasons, from the difference of the measure of the day and the night, from sickness and health, from our members, from the constitution of the soul, from the crafts and the wisdom in them that has been provided to the race of humans, from the need of

being served by irrational creatures and plants and other created things, and from the smallest and most insignificant animals. For what is smaller or more repulsive than a bee? What is more insignificant than ants and cicadas? Yet even these send forth a clear voice on behalf of God's providence and power and wisdom. Therefore the prophet too, who was deemed worthy of so great a Spirit, going over the body of creation and passing through a few things, cried out with great amazement that wondrous utterance: "How great are your works, O Lord; in wisdom you have made them all." And all these things, O man, are for your sake.

For the winds too are for your sake—for I will bring the account back to the beginning again—so that they may fan bodies that are weary, so that they may cleanse away the defilement from the mire and the heaviness that comes from smoke and furnaces and other exhalations, so that they may relieve the heat from the sun's ray, so that they may make the stifling air light, so that they may nourish the seeds, so that they may make the plants grow, so that they may travel with you even on the sea and on land become servants of your farming—there escorting the ships more swiftly than an arrow, thus making the voyage light and easy, and here with you cleansing the threshing floors and separating the chaff from the grain and lightening the hardship of labor—so that they may make the air light and gentle for you, so that they may delight you in other ways too, now whistling sweetly and gently, now softly striking the plants and shaking the leaves of trees, so that in summer and in the season of spring they may make your sleep sweeter and more pleasant than honey, so that, doing to the surface of the sea what they do to the trees, and lifting up the surface of the river streams as well, they may provide you from this with great delight from the sight, and before this delight also the greatest benefit. For these winds are also useful to the waters in another way, not allowing the waters that stand continually still to rot, but by constantly moving and stirring them up, making them fresh and vigorous and more suitable for the nourishment of the living creatures that swim in them.

If you wish to examine night itself as well, you will see from this too the great providence of the Creator. For it gives rest to your body that has labored and relaxes and loosens your limbs that are strained by the toils of the day, changing them and bringing them back again to their peak through quiet. And not only this, but it also releases you from the day's griefs and sets you free from untimely cares. Often it has even quenched the fever of one who is ill, bringing on sleep as a remedy and steering the art of the physicians, when it is at a loss, into a calm harbor, and releasing him from many toils. And so great is its usefulness, so great its benefit, that often even the day is utterly ruined for those who have been deprived of the leisure that is in it. For if one were to remove in thought the quiet of night and the relaxation and the respite through which all things are rested—both a soul that has labored and a body that has been distressed—and which prepares them to take up the day's work with their mind at its peak, he will see this living creature becoming useless. And if someone were to add the nights to the days, staying awake and working, or even idling, and were to do this further, he will die immediately, or, if not this, then delivered over entirely to a long illness, he will reap nothing from the day for the activity of his own need, since his strength has been extinguished.

If we also extend our account to the countless multitude of fish—those in marshes, those in springs, those in rivers, those in the sailed sea, those in the unsailed sea—or if we should look upon the indescribable tribes of birds, those in the air, those on the earth, those in the waters and on land together—for there are many amphibians among them—the wild, the tame, the wild but made gentle, those remaining wholly wild, those eaten, those not eaten—and if we should carefully examine each one's beauty and wing and melodious voice, and further, if we should learn only their differences in song and table and manner of life, and should go over their haunts and habits and the uses and services they provide us all, and their sizes and smallness and their birth-pangs and nurture and the great and indescribable variety in these things—and should do this same thing also with fish, and from there proceed also to the plants that grow everywhere on the earth, and see each of these: their fruit and use and fragrance and appearance and position and leaves and color, and shape and size and smallness and benefit, and the modes of their cultivation, and the differences of barks and stems and branches, and meadows and gardens—then pass on to the various spices and carefully examine their manifold places and the modes of their discovery and care and cultivation, and that they contribute to our healing—

And along with these, again, if we should proceed further to the mountains that contain mines—for those too are many, and whatever others far more numerous in creation we might search out—what account, or what time will suffice for us for the exact understanding of these things? And all these things, O man, are for your sake, and arts are for your sake, and pursuits and cities and villages, and sleep is for your sake, and death is for your sake, and life is for your sake, and growth, and so many works of nature, and such a world as this is now for your sake, and again will be better for your sake. For that it will be better, and that this too is for your sake, hear what Paul says: "For even the creation itself will be freed from the slavery of corruption"—that is, from being corruptible. And showing how it will also enjoy so great an honor for your sake, he added, "into the freedom of the glory of the children of God." But if I were not making the account very long and beyond measure, I would have philosophized much also about death, and in this especially I would have shown the wisdom of God and his providence, and I would have said much about corruption, about ichor, about worms, and about ashes—the very things that the many most lament and bewail, that our bodies will be dissolved into ashes, into dust, into worms—and from this we would have shown his ineffable providence and care. For from the same providence, from the same goodness from which he made us when we were not, from the same he also commanded us to die and to have such an end. For even if the things that come to be are various, they are of one goodness.

For the one who has departed is not harmed at all by this, while the one still living will gain the greatest benefit from it, reaping his own advantage in another's body. For when he sees the man who walked with him yesterday and the day before dissolved into worms and into ichor and ashes and dust, even if he has the very madness of the devil, he is struck with awe, he draws himself in, he moderates himself, he is taught to love wisdom, and he installs humility, the mother of good things, into his mind. And the one who has departed has not been harmed at all, for he will receive this body back undefiled and incorruptible; and the one still in the trench will gain the greatest benefit from things by which no other was harmed. Death was brought into our life as no ordinary teacher of philosophy, training the mind and curbing the passions of the soul and calming the waves and making a calm. Having learned, then, both from what has been said and from many other things that the providence of God shines forth more clearly than this light, do not busy yourself with superfluous things, nor pursue what cannot be grasped, examining the causes of all things. For he granted us existence itself out of goodness, though he has no need of our service. And it is right to marvel at him and worship him, not only because he made us, nor because he bestowed on us a bodiless and rational soul, nor because he made us better than all other things, nor because he entrusted to us the kingdom of things seen and permitted us the scepters, but because he has no need of us at all. For this is the wonderful thing about his goodness, that though he needed nothing of our service, he brought us forth. For even before we and the angels and the powers above came to be, he was, having his own glory.

and the blessedness; but it was through his love for humanity alone that he brought us forth and made all these things for our sake, and many things even far greater than these.

8. Chapter 8. That it is a proof of providence both to give the law, natural and written, and to prepare noble men to become teachers through the migration of the nations that received them, and to grant as the crowning of blessings after these things the presence of the Only-Begotten. For this reason he both wrote and gave a law for our sake, and sent prophets, and worked wonders, and before all these together, having formed man, he placed within him the innate law as a teacher, setting it over our reasonings like a pilot over a ship and a charioteer over a horse. Thus, at any rate, Abel knew him, when there were no letters, no prophets, no apostles, no written law resounding, but he had the innate law. So too did Cain; for both knew him and recognized his lordship, but both did not come to the same road; rather the one to the road of wickedness, the other to that of virtue. And yet not even so did he abandon him, but even when he had fallen and been tripped up he set him aright and caused him to enjoy his care; and first by exhorting and advising, and later by fear and trembling admonishing, disciplining, teaching.

But since the majority of men had forfeited so great a gift—I mean the benefit that comes from natural instruction—even so he did not abandon them, nor hand them over to utter destruction, but he remained, training them through events, through benefits, through punishments, admonishing them, through creation itself working day by day and fulfilling its accustomed service, through things that happened wondrously beyond the usual course, through the righteous men from the beginning. For he also moved men who were wonderful and full of philosophy from place to place. For instance, he caused Abraham to go now to Palestine, now to Egypt, and Jacob to Syria; Moses again to Egypt, and the three youths to Babylon, and Daniel and Ezekiel; and Jeremiah to Egypt. And he gave a law and sent prophets and struck and released and handed over to captivity and deemed them worthy of freedom, and he did not cease from the beginning to the end doing all things and working on behalf of our race. For he was not satisfied with the instruction from creation alone, which leads to the knowledge of God, but since many, through their own obstinacy, gained nothing from it, he also cut other paths of instruction and finally wrought the sum of good things and sent his own Son. And he, being of the same nature as him, becomes what I am, and walking on earth he conversed with men through what he did in miracles, through what he promised, through what he gave.

For he has already provided the things from here, and he has stored up for the future the things to come, which he made clear both that he will give and by the wonders he worked while still on earth, and by the fulfillment of all that he foretold afterward: "Who will speak of the mighty acts of the Lord, who will make all his praises heard?" Who would not be astonished, who would not shudder at his ineffable care, considering how for ungrateful servants he handed over his only-begotten Son to death, death the accursed, death the reproachful, death the death of the condemned? And he was nailed up on the high crossbeam and spat upon and struck and beaten on the cheek and mocked and buried as a favor, and seals were placed on his tomb; and all these things he endured for your sake and for your care, so that the tyranny of sin might be destroyed, so that the stronghold of the devil might be cast down, so that the sinews of death might be cut, so that the gates of heaven might be opened for us, so that the

A curse—so that the former condemnation might be loosed, so that you might learn endurance, so that you might be trained in steadfastness, so that nothing of this present life might grieve you: neither death, nor insult, nor abuse, nor mockeries, nor scourges, nor plots of enemies, nor assaults, nor attacks, nor slanders, nor evil suspicions, nor anything else of such things. For he himself came through all things and shared with you in all these things and prevailed through all things exceedingly, training you and teaching you to fear none of such things. And he was not satisfied with these alone, but also, having ascended into the heavens, he bestowed the ineffable grace of the Holy Spirit and sent apostles to minister to this end. And seeing the very heralds of life suffering countless evils—being scourged, insulted, sunk in the deep, worn out with hunger and thirst, pressed hard every day, living together with daily deaths—he endured it for your sake and for your care. For your sake, O man, he also prepared a kingdom; for your sake the ineffable good things, that portion in the heavens, the mansions differing and varied, the blessedness that can never be expressed in word. Having therefore so many proofs of his providence—those in the New, those in the Old, those in the present life, those in the life to come, things future, things past, things accomplished each day, things from the beginning, things in the middle, things at the end, things continually, things concerning the body, things concerning the soul—and seeing flakes of demonstrations borne from every side, proclaiming his providence, do you still doubt?

But you do not doubt, you believe that he provides, and you have convinced yourself of this. Therefore do not busy yourself with anything further, knowing this clearly: that you have a Master more affectionate than a father, more solicitous than a mother, loving more passionately than a bridegroom loves a bride, counting your salvation his own rest, and rejoicing in it more than you rejoice at release from dangers and deaths—as he showed through Jonah—and displaying every kind of love that a father has for his children or a mother for her offspring, the vine-dresser for his plants, the builder for his craft, the bridegroom for his bride, the young man for a maiden, and willing to remove your evils from you as far as the east is distant from the west, as much higher as heaven is than the earth—for this too we have demonstrated—or rather not only so much, but far more; just as we showed when we raised the argument concerning these things and exhorted you not to stand at the level of images, but to surpass them in your reasoning. For the providence of God is uninterpretable and his care incomprehensible, his goodness ineffable and his love for humanity unsearchable. Knowing all these things, then, both through what he has declared and through what he has done and through what he will do, do not busy yourself, do not be meddlesome, do not say: Why this? For what purpose this?

For how is it not madness, and full of the utmost derangement and frenzy, that when a physician cuts, cauterizes, and applies bitter medicines, one should never busy oneself with questions—even if he is a slave—but the master should lie in silence enduring these things and be grateful to him for the cautery and the cutting and the medicines, and that too with the future uncertain (for many have killed many by doing these things)—and should yield to him with great submission as he does these things; and to do this same thing also in the case of a shipbuilder and a housebuilder and those who pursue other crafts? But I say it is ridiculous to think that one should demand from the craftsman the reasons for all that happens, while prying into and seeking why this or that has happened in the case of that ineffable wisdom, the unutterable, the unspeakable, the incomprehensible—and that too when we know clearly that this wisdom is unerring, that his goodness is great, that his providence is ineffable, that all things that come from him to us meet a good end—only if our own affairs are not cut short—because he wishes no one to perish but to save. How is this not exceeding madness, that he who saves all and

wanting and being able to busy oneself with scrutinizing things from their beginnings and immediately, and not even waiting for the outcome of what happens?

9. Chapter 9. That one must not busy oneself, and that one must wait for the outcomes of things. For in the first place, one must not be a busybody either from the beginnings or after these things; but if you are so curious and meddlesome, wait for the outcome and observe where these things lead, and do not be turbulent, nor be disturbed from the beginnings. Since even a certain inexperienced person, seeing the goldsmith at the start melting the gold and mixing it with ashes and chaff, if he did not wait for the outcome, would think the gold was ruined; and if someone born and raised at sea, then suddenly relocated to the interior and wholly unacquainted with the care of the land, saw the grain stored and guarded by doors and bolts and free from moisture, suddenly brought out by the farmer, scattered, thrown about and lying on the field for all passersby, and not only not free from moisture, but handed over to mud and marshes and having no guard, would he not think the grain was ruined and condemn the farmer who did these things? But the condemnation is not of the nature of the matter, but of the inexperience and folly of the one who judged badly, immediately casting his vote from the beginnings.

Since if he had waited for the summer and seen the cornfields in their pride, and the sickle sharpened, and the grain scattered and left unguarded, and rotted and corrupted and given over to the mud, then rising again and becoming many times more, and appearing more beautiful and putting off its old condition and standing upright with great vigor and having, as it were, spearmen and guards, and raising its stalk to a height and delighting the beholder and nourishing him and providing great gain—then he would have been struck with greater amazement, that through such things the fruit was brought to such abundance and brightness. And you too, O man, above all do not busy yourself with the common Master of us all; but if you are so contentious and bold as to rave with this madness, at least wait for the outcome of what happens. For if the farmer waits for a whole winter, not looking at what the grain suffers in the season of frost, but at what he is going to enjoy, much more should you, in the case of him who farms the whole world and our souls, be justified in waiting for the outcome; and I mean not only the outcome in the present life—for often this will happen here too—but also that in the life to come. For the dispensation looks to one outcome of both these lives, our salvation and our good repute. For even if they are divided by time, they are joined by their aim; and just as now it is winter, now spring, and each turning of the year looks to one thing, the maturity of the fruits, so indeed it is also with our affairs.

When, therefore, you see the Church scattered, suffering the utmost ills, those who shine within her driven about and scourged, her leader carried far away, do not look only at these things, but also at what will result from them—the wages, the recompenses, the prizes, the rewards. For "he who endures to the end, this one shall be saved," he says. For under the Old Covenant, since the doctrine of the resurrection was not yet known, both things happened in the present life; but under the New Covenant this is not so everywhere, but there are cases where the painful things are here, while the good things await our departure from this life. But nevertheless, even if the good things did come to them in this life and in the present existence, and in this very respect those who did not enjoy these things would be especially admirable, because, though they did not clearly know the doctrine of the resurrection and saw in actual events the opposite of God's promises coming to pass, they were not scandalized, not disturbed, nor thrown into confusion, but yielded to his incomprehensible providence, being scandalized by nothing that happened contrary to expectation, but knowing the resourcefulness and ingenuity of his wisdom, they awaited the end—or rather, even before the end, everything that was dared against them they bore with thanksgiving and continued glorifying God, who permitted these things to happen. Perhaps this argument seems unclear to you; so I will try to make it clearer.

Chapter 10. That the ancients also waited for the ends of things. To Abraham, who had once become an old man and was by now dead as regards begetting children because of his age—for as to becoming a father he was in no better state than the dead, though alive—to this righteous man, then, being old and having long since passed beyond the bounds of natural begetting, and having as his companion Sarah, more barren than a rock, God promises to make him a father of so many descendants that their multitude should equal the multitude of the stars. But he, though such obstacles existed—his age now brought down to extreme old age, and his wife disabled both by age and by nature; for it was not age alone that stood in the way, but also the disablement of nature itself; for even when she was young the workshop of nature was useless, for the woman was barren. Therefore Paul also, pointing to this very thing, said: "And the deadness of Sarah's womb." He did not say simply the deadness of Sarah, lest you suspect it was only her age, but also the deadness of the womb itself, which had come about not from time only but also from nature.

But nevertheless, even with obstacles so great, as I said, knowing what the promise of God is—how resourceful and well-supplied it is, hindered neither by the laws of nature, nor by the difficulty of circumstances, nor by anything else, but walking through things contrary and bringing the promise to fulfillment—he accepted what was said and believed the promise, and not allowing the clamor arising from his reasonings even to be stirred at all, he judged the power of the one who made the promise to be trustworthy—as indeed it is—for the fulfillment of the promise, not examining how and in what manner these things would be, and for what reason not in youth, but in old age, and late and slowly. Therefore Paul also proclaims him with a brilliant voice, saying: "Who against hope believed in hope, that he might become the father of many nations." What is "against hope, in hope"? Against human hope, in the hope of God, which conquers all things, which is able to do all things, which prevails over all things. And he believed, not merely that he would become a father, but of so many nations—the old man and childless, who had a barren and aged wife—according to what was said: "So shall your seed be. And being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, when he was about a hundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sarah's womb; he staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully persuaded that what he had promised he was able also to perform." And what he says is of this sort:

Leaping up and springing forthwith beyond human weakness, and running up to the height of him who made the promise, and considering his ineffable power, he was clearly persuaded that what was said would certainly come to pass. And in this above all he glorified God—in not prying into it, nor being busy about it, but in yielding to the incomprehensibility of his wisdom and power, and in doubting nothing at all concerning what was said. Do you see that this is above all what it means to glorify God—always to yield to the incomprehensibility of his providence and to his ineffable power and wisdom, and not to pry, nor to be busy, nor to say: Why this? For what purpose this? How will this come to pass? Nor is this alone the wonderful thing, but also that his own Son, that only-begotten and genuine Son, after this promise he was commanded to sacrifice, and even then he was not scandalized. And yet there were many things able to scandalize one who was not sober nor watchful: first of all, the very command itself—whether God accepts such sacrifices and commands fathers to be child-killers, and to end their children's life by a violent death and deliver them over to an untimely death, and to become their own hands' murderers of those they begot, and to wish his own altar to be stained with such blood, and the paternal right hand to be armed against the only-begotten child, and the righteous man to be more savage than murderers. And along with this, the tyranny of nature, troubling and disturbing—not because he was a father only, but because he was also affectionate, and the father of such a child, genuine, only-begotten, beautiful to see, beautiful to conceive.

For he was in the very flower of his age and at the very peak of virtue, shining then with a double beauty, both of soul and of body. Nor was it a small thing for affection that he was given wholly beyond hope. For you know how such children are passionately loved, those granted beyond hope and expectation and not by the law of nature, such as he was. And along with all these things, what was most of all able to provide a stumbling-block was the promise and the assurance; for what was commanded was contrary to it. For what was promised was: “So shall your seed be as the stars of heaven”; but what was commanded was that the only-begotten son, through whom he was to fill the whole world, should be taken from the midst and handed over to death and to a most grievous slaughter. And yet not even so was that righteous man scandalized, nor was he disturbed, nor did he suffer anything such as one of the foolish and grovelling might fittingly suffer. For he did not say to himself: What is this? Have I been deceived? Have I been cheated? Is this a command of God? Away with it, I do not believe it; that I should become a child-killer is unjust, and that I should stain my right hand with such blood. And how will the promise have its fulfillment? For if I destroy the root, where will the branches be? Where the fruits? If I bury the spring, where will the rivers be? If I slaughter the son, where will I have the multitude of descendants equal in number to the stars? How then did he promise one thing and now command the opposite? None of these things did he say, nor did he think them.

But again, having fled for refuge to the ineffable power of the one who promised—the power that is resourceful, that finds a way, that shines forth through things contrary, that is above the laws of nature, that is mightier than all things, that has nothing set against it—and with great full assurance he fulfilled the command and slaughtered his son and bloodied his right hand and made red his sword and drove the blade through the neck. For even if not in deed, yet in intent he fulfilled all these things. Therefore Moses too, marveling at him, said thus: "And it came to pass after these words, that God tested Abraham and said to him: Take your son, your beloved one whom you have loved, Isaac, and offer him up on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you." Are these the words of the promise, of the declaration, which say that he would be the father of a multitude of offspring and that his seed would be as the stars of heaven? See how after these words, having heard that he should slaughter his son, he accepted to destroy and sacrifice and make away with the one from whom so great a multitude was to come, and to bring him as a victim to God. And Paul too, marveling at him, again proclaimed him thus, saying: "By faith Abraham, when tested, offered up Isaac." Then, showing how great a thing he did and how great a faith he displayed, he added: "And he who had received the promises offered up his only-begotten son." And what he means is this: It cannot be said that he had two legitimate sons and expected, when this one was destroyed, to become the father of that multitude from the other; but he had him as his only one, and from

On this alone the promise hung; and yet he chose to sacrifice him, just as in the promise of his birth he was hindered from faith neither by his own deadness nor by the barrenness of the woman's nature, so neither here was he obstructed by death. Compare these things, then, with what has now happened, and you will see your own faintheartedness, and you will see the cheapness of those who are scandalized, and you will learn clearly that the scandal comes to you from nowhere else than from not yielding to the incomprehensible providence of God, but seeking everywhere a manner of dispensations and demanding causes for what happens and prying into each thing. If Abraham had suffered this, he would have been lame with respect to faith. But he did not pry, and therefore he shone and obtained all the things promised; nor was he scandalized, neither by old age nor by the command that came afterward; nor did he consider the command a hindrance to the promise, nor the sacrifice a destroyer of the promise, nor did he fall into despair of the promise, although he had come to the very end of the matter. For do not tell me this—that God did not allow the command to come to deed, nor the righteous man's right hand to be bloodied—but consider that Abraham knew none of these things, nor that he would receive his son alive and thus know to return home, but he stretched his whole resolve toward the slaughter. Therefore he is called a second time from the heavens. For he did not say to him "Abraham" simply, but "Abraham, Abraham," by the doubling of the voice restraining and reining back his intention, which was strained toward the sacrifice.

Thus he was wholly given over to the command. You see how the whole matter was fulfilled by his resolve, and there was no stumbling-block anywhere. And the reason was that he did not pry into the things of God. But what of Joseph? Tell me. Did he not suffer something of the same kind? For a great grace of promise had been given to him as well by God, and again the events that followed were contrary to the promises. For the promise was that his brothers would bow down to him through dreams, and a double vision proclaimed this—both through the stars and through the sheaves; but what happened after these visions was contrary to the visions. For first a harsh war was kindled against him from that quarter in his father's house, and those who had loosed the same birth-pangs with him, cutting through the laws of kinship and bursting the very bonds of brotherly friendship and shaking the very ordinances of nature, became enemies and foes and wilder than wolves against their brother because of those dreams; and as wild and savage beasts taking a lamb in their midst, so they plotted against him each day. And the father of this war was irrational envy and unjust jealousy; and boiling with rage, they breathed murder every day, as envy kindled that furnace and stirred up the fire.

And since for a time they were unable to do him any harm, while he was moving about indoors and spending his time with his parents, they slandered his reputation and fabricated a shameful opinion of him and brought a wicked reproach against him, wishing thereby to destroy his father's affection and to take him easily for an ambush. Then after these things, having taken him outside his father's eyes and found him in a deserted place bringing food to them and having come to visit them, they did not respect the reason for his visit, they were not ashamed of the brotherly table, but they sharpened their swords and prepared for slaughter and all became fratricides, having no small or great charge to bring against the one about to be slain by them; but over the very things for which he ought to be crowned and proclaimed, they envied, warred against, and slandered him. But even so he did not turn away from their company, but even in such wickedness he displayed his brotherly disposition; yet even so they attempted to kill him and killed him, at least as far as their part was concerned, and stained their right hands with blood and the fratricide

They brought it to completion. But the resourceful and, even in desperate straits, inventive wisdom of God snatched him out of their accursed hands, even in that very pit and at the very onset of death. For one of the brothers advised them to desist from that murder; and God persuaded them and checked the slaughter. Yet not even here did the horrors stop, but they went on further still. For since they were prevented from killing him, and their fury was still seething and the heat of their anger was at its peak and the surge of their passion was great, they diverted their anger to something else. For the savage, inhuman, and beastlike men stripped him, bound him, and threw him into a pit, and then in this way they enjoyed the table that had been furnished by him; and he was in the pit in fear for his very life, while they were reveling and getting drunk. And not even here did they stop their madness, but seeing some barbarian men who had been settled far from their own country and were going down into Egypt, they took him and sold their brother, thereby contriving for him another death, one longer and harsher and full of great misery. For consider what he suffered, being a youth—a mere youth—and reared in great freedom in his father's house, having no share in any slavery or in the misery of slavery, suddenly becoming a slave instead of a free man and a stranger instead of a citizen and enduring the utmost captivity—not slavery only, but being torn away from father and mother and all his kindred, naked, a stranger, homeless, cityless, handed over by the law of slavery into barbarian hands.

For what was there that was not sufficient to throw him into confusion? The suddenness, the unexpectedness, the unanticipated and unmeditated nature of it, the harshness of the calamity, that it came from brothers—and brothers who were loved—when he had wronged them neither small nor great, but had rather even done them good—to suffer these things? And yet he was disturbed by none of these things, but was led away by those merchants into Egypt, exchanging one slavery for another. For there too he again became a slave and dwelt in a barbarian house—the Hebrew, the well-born, the one free with a double freedom, both of the body and of the soul; and not even from this was he disturbed, nor was he scandalized at what had happened, remembering the visions that promised the opposite, nor did he busy himself with the question why these things were happening. And the brother-murderers and wolves and wild beasts, although they had done these wrongs, revel in their father's house; but he who was expected to be their king, a captive, a slave, sold off into a foreign land, endures the utmost misery—not only not having become their king, but even having become their slave, and having suffered things diametrically opposite to the promises. For indeed not only did he not obtain the kingship then, but he was also cast out from his homeland and his freedom and the sight of his parents. And not even here did the contest stand still for him, but another, deeper pit was being dug out, having again death and slaughter—a death of reproach and a slaughter full of shame. For when his mistress saw him with unjust eyes and was captured by the young man's beauty, conquered by his radiant appearance, she too in turn wove plots and schemes.

And spreading the nets of licentiousness on every side, she watched each day to catch the young man within her own snare and to cast him into the pit of adultery and to deliver him over to death immortal. And each day she went out to this hunt, goaded by passion and by this licentious love. And once, finding him alone, she dragged him by force to the unjust bed and compelled him to break into another's marriage and attempted to corrupt his chastity. But nevertheless not even from this did that righteous man suffer any harm; but the tyranny of desire and the tumults of youth and the plot of a licentious woman and the assaults of a mistress and the disturbances of youth and all that would naturally arise from that touch and

sight and madness, he overcame with great ease, like an eagle stretching its wing on high and stripping off his very garments and leaving them in those licentious hands, he went out naked of garments, but wearing the bright robe of chastity, more conspicuous than the purple itself. From this a sword was sharpened against him again and death was plotted and the waves were raised higher and the madness of the woman blazed more fiercely than the Babylonian furnace. For desire was now roused to a greater pitch, and anger, another most grievous passion, was added with great savagery and looked to murder and ran to the sword and lusted after a most lawless slaughter and hastened to destroy the athlete of chastity and the contender of endurance and patience.

And rushing in to her own husband, she reported to him what had happened—not as the truth of the matter stood, but as she herself had constructed the drama of slander—and she persuaded the judge to do what she wished, accusing him of desertion and, as though wronged, seeking vengeance, carrying the garments of the innocent young man in those impure hands as proof of what she said. And the corrupted judge did not bring the accused into a courtroom, did not grant him a hearing, but condemned as one caught, as one convicted, as a full-fledged adulterer the man who had not even seen a courtroom, and threw him into prison and delivered him over to chains. And so from then on the man who had woven so many crowns of virtue was in prison with sorcerers, with grave-robbers, with murderers, with those who had dared the utmost. But nevertheless none of these things disturbed him. And another man who had offended the king was released, while he himself remained inside for a long time, paying the ultimate penalty for the very things for which he ought to have been crowned and proclaimed. And not even so was he troubled, nor scandalized, nor did he say: "What is this? For what purpose is this? I, who was to reign over my brothers, have not only fallen from this honor, but have been stripped of my homeland and my house and my parents and even of those who were to worship me. Then after the slaughter I was sold, I became a slave of barbarians and exchanged masters continually; and not even here did my troubles stop, but everywhere are precipices and cliffs.

For after the plot of my brothers, and the slaughter, and the slavery—both the first and the second—death was again devised against me, and a slander more grievous than the first, and a plot, and an assault, and a corrupted court, and an accusation bringing great shame and laboring to bring forth slaughter for us. And without obtaining a hearing, I was led away to prison simply and as it happened, and I am bound in chains with adulterers and murderers and those who have dared the utmost. And the chief cupbearer was released both from his chain and from prison; but I have not been able even after him to enjoy any freedom. And for him the dream came to fulfillment according to my interpretation; but I am in incurable evils. Did those visions foretell these things? Did the number of the stars? Did the sheaves? Where are the promises? Where are the assurances? Have I been deceived? Have I been misled? For how shall my brothers henceforth bow down to me—me, the slave, the captive, the prisoner, the one thought to be an adulterer, the one in danger concerning the utmost, the one so far removed from them? All those things are gone and have perished. None of these things did he say, none did he consider, but he awaited the end, himself knowing God's resourcefulness and his abundant wisdom; and not only was he not scandalized, but he even exulted and adorned himself in what was happening. But what of David, tell me?

Was it after he was anointed king and received the scepters of the Hebrew people by God's vote, and set up that glorious trophy against the barbarian, that he suffered the harshest things of all—being warred upon, plotted against by Saul, in danger of his very life, sent out into perilous wars, continually driven into the wilderness, becoming a wanderer, a fugitive, cityless, homeless, a stranger? Why need one say much? In the end he was cast out even from his fatherland and from that entire land of his own, dwelling among barbarians, his enemies and most hostile foes, and enduring a life harsher than slavery; for he was even at a loss for necessary food. And he suffered these things after the coming of Samuel, after the anointing with oil, after the promise of kingship, after the scepters, after the diadem, after God's ordination and the vote concerning him. And yet none of these things scandalized him, nor did he say: "What is this? I am a king and about to enjoy so great a rule, yet I cannot even be a private citizen in safety; but I have become a wanderer and a fugitive, cityless, homeless, a stranger, and I have been carried off to a barbarian land, at a loss for necessary food, and I see the danger of the utmost hanging over me each day. Where are the promises of kingship? Where are those proclamations of rule?" He said none of these things, nor did he think them; he was not scandalized by what was happening, but he too waited for the end of the promises.

And one could mention countless others who fell into harsh circumstances yet were not thrown into confusion, but holding fast to God's declaration—even though what was happening was contrary to the promises—through this noblest endurance they reaped splendid crowns. So you too, beloved, wait for the end; for it will certainly come to meet you, either here or in the age to come. And everywhere give way to the incomprehensibility of God's providence, and do not say, "How will such great evils receive correction?" Nor pry into the manner of God's wondrous working.

11. Chapter 11. That this did not happen immediately, and that in the beginning the saints, seeing everything contrary, were not scandalized. For neither did those righteous men of old seek this—how and in what manner these things would be—but seeing everything carried toward despair according to human reasoning, not even so were they thrown into confusion or disturbed; but they bore all things nobly, having as the greatest proof of the good things to come the power of the One who promised, and not falling into despair from the opposition of what was happening. For they knew clearly that He, being resourceful and wise, would be able even after the affairs had been given up to recover them more than before, and with great ease to place the end upon the things promised. So you too, beloved, whether the painful things receive their release in the present life, glorify God;

Whether you come into difficult circumstances, even so give thanks and do not be scandalized, knowing clearly that God's providence is infinite and cannot be fully explained, and that all things will certainly receive their proper end, whether in the present life or in the life to come. But if someone, hearing of the life to come, is fainthearted and presses to see this accomplished here, we will say that true life and things firm and immovable await us then. For present things are a road, those things are a homeland; things here resemble spring flowers, those things resemble immovable rocks; there are crowns and recompenses without end, there are prizes and awards, there are punishments and unbearable penalties for those who have done such wickedness. What then will you say to those who are scandalized up to now? You do not mention those who shine more brightly, but those who wear masks of piety and are now exposed—these you bring into the middle. Do you not see the gold being refined? The lead being exposed? The chaff being separated from the wheat? The wolves from the sheep? The counterfeit from those truly living in piety? So when you see the scandals of these, consider also the good repute of those. They were tripped up

but they also stood firm, far more numerous, and gathered for themselves a greater reward, being overturned neither by the power of those who plotted against them nor by the difficulty of the times. And let those who are scandalized consider within themselves: since even the three children, torn away from sacred things and from the temple and the altar and all the rest of the care according to the law, and shut up in the midst of a barbarian land, preserved the law with great exactness; and Daniel likewise, and many others; and some who were carried off into captivity suffered no harm, while others who stayed at home and enjoyed all the things in their fatherland stumbled and were condemned.

12. Chapter 12. For what reason wicked men and demons and the devil were left in this world. But if you should ask for what reason these things were permitted, and would not yield to the ineffable words of his dispensations, but have always been eager to pry into everything, proceeding on your way you will also be at a loss about many other things—for instance, for what reason heresies were let loose, for what reason the devil, for what reason the demons, for what reason the wicked among men who trip up many, and, the chief point of all these, for what reason the Antichrist comes, who has such great power for deception as to make Christ say that he will do such things as to deceive, if possible, even the elect. But one must not seek these things, but yield all things to the incomprehensibility of the wisdom of God.

For the one who has already been firmly established in a noble spirit, even if ten thousand waves and ten thousand storms come upon him, he is not only not harmed at all, but he even becomes stronger; whereas the weak man, the one who is slipping away and fainthearted, often collapses even when nothing is troubling him. But if you also seek to learn some account of this, hear the one that is familiar to us. For there are indeed many others besides, made evident by him who orders all our affairs in different and varied ways; but the one we know is, for now, this. We say that these scandals were permitted so that the prizes of the noble might not be diminished; and God made this clear when he spoke with Job, saying: "Do you think I have dealt with you otherwise than that you might be shown to be righteous?" And Paul also says: "For there must also be heresies, so that those who are approved may become evident among you." But when you hear the phrase "there must also be heresies," do not suppose that he says this as commanding or legislating. Far from it; rather, he is foretelling what is to come, and announcing beforehand the gain that comes from it for those who are watchful. For then, he says, the virtue of you who are not deceived will appear more clearly. In addition to these things, the wicked were also permitted for another reason, so that they might not be snatched away beforehand and shut out from the benefit that comes to them from their change. Thus Paul was saved, thus the robber, thus the prostitute, thus the tax collector, thus many others. But if they had been carried off from here before they changed, none of them would have been saved. And concerning the Antichrist, Paul also states another reason. What is this? That from this too every defense of the Jews might be excluded. For what excuse would they have for not receiving Christ, who are going to believe in that one?

Therefore he says, "That all those who did not believe the truth may be judged," that is, Christ, "but took pleasure in unrighteousness," that is, the Antichrist. For since they were saying that this was the reason they did not believe him—because he called himself God: "For this reason, they say, we stone you, because you, being a man, make yourself God"—although they heard him for the most part attributing it to the Father and saying that he had come with that One's approval, and demonstrating this through many things; what will they say when they receive the Antichrist, who says he himself is God and does not even mention the Father, but does the very opposite? Christ also, reproaching them for this, foretold it, saying:

"I came in the name of my Father, and you do not receive me; if another comes in his own name, you will receive him." It was for these reasons that the stumbling blocks were let go. But if you mean those who are scandalized, I will show you those who shone forth all the more from this; and again I will say the same to you, that it was not right, because of the inattention and negligence of others, that those who were able to be sober and watchful and to bind on themselves ten thousand crowns from these things should be diminished in the recompense of rewards. For these were going to be treated spitefully, if they had not received occasions for these contests; but those who were harmed by this—let them be reckoned just toward no one else but themselves for their falls, and let those who were not only not scandalized but became brighter and stronger by this accuse them.

13. Chapter 13. That nothing harms or scandalizes those who are watchful. Tell me, from what priests did Abraham benefit? What teachers? What instruction? What exhortation? What counsel? Especially since there were not even letters then, no law, no prophets, nothing else of the kind; but he sailed an unmarked sea and traveled an untrodden road, and that too though he had been born of a household and a father that was impious. And yet none of these things harmed him, but he shone so greatly in virtue that what was to come after a long time, after the prophets, after the law and so great a training—the training through signs and wonders by which Christ was going to educate men—these things he anticipated and demonstrated by his deeds: genuine and fervent love, contempt for money, the care of his own offspring; and he trampled underfoot all pride and drove off the soft and dissolute life, living more strictly than the monks of today who have occupied the peaks of the mountains. For he had no house, but the shade of leaves was roof and shelter for the righteous man; nor, because he was a stranger, did he become more negligent about hospitality, but being a stranger in a strange land he made this his work: to receive and care for those who passed by continually at high noon. And he accomplished the whole task himself and made his wife a partner in this noble business. And what did he not do for his nephew, and that too when he had dealt with him improperly and had rushed upon the first places, and that after the choice of the election? Did he not shed blood? Did he not arm all his servants? Did he not throw himself into open danger?

But when he was commanded to leave his house and go to a foreign land, he did not immediately obey and, abandoning fatherland and friends and relatives and all, be persuaded by the command of the one who ordered it, leaving behind the things that were clear while attending to the unclear far more clearly than to the clear, because of the promise of God—which was a mark of intensified faith. And after these things, when the famine seized everything, he again became a migrant and was not disturbed nor troubled, but displayed the same obedience and philosophy and endurance, and went down into Egypt, and having obeyed God when he commanded such things, he was deprived of his wife and saw her being outraged—as far as it depended on the Egyptian—and he endured things worse than death, struck in his most vital interests. For what was heavier, tell me, than to see a woman joined to him by the law of marriage, after so many achievements, being snatched away by barbarian licentiousness, being led inside into the royal courts, being outraged? For even if the deed did not come to pass, he himself expected it and bore all things nobly, and neither did misfortunes trip him up nor did prosperities puff him up; but amid the difference of circumstances he preserved his own judgment equal. And what, when he promised him the son,

Were there not countless obstacles arising from his reasoning? And having calmed all those and removed their tumult, he shone forth from faith. But when he was commanded to consecrate him, did he not bring him up with great speed, as one about to lead him into the bridal chamber and to act as bridal escort? And having almost departed from nature itself and been released from being a man, he offered a new and strange sacrifice, and alone he contended in this contest, sharing it with no wife, no servant, no other of those with him. For he knew, he knew clearly the height of the goal, the weight of the command, the greatness of the struggle; therefore he alone undertook this course and ran and struggled and was crowned and proclaimed. What priest taught him these things? What teacher? What prophet? Not one; but since he had a grateful soul, that sufficed him for everything. And what of Noah? What priest did he have? What teacher? What guide? When alone, while the whole inhabited world was corrupted in wickedness, he walked the straight road and preserved virtue and so shone forth that in the shipwreck of the world he both saved himself and snatched others from the dangers that hung over them through the abundance of his own virtue. From where did he become righteous? From where perfect? What priest or teacher had he also had? No one could say.

But his son, though he had a teacher who was continually glorious, and enjoyed his father's virtue and admonitions—both those through words and those through deeds—and saw the outcome of events, and the exhortation that comes from misfortune and that from salvation, nevertheless became wicked toward the one who begot him, and mocked his begetter's nakedness and exposed it publicly. Do you see that everywhere there is need of a grateful soul? But what of Job, tell me? Which prophets did he hear? What teaching did he enjoy? None. Yet nevertheless he too, having obtained none of these things, displayed every form of virtue with great exactness. For he possessed his goods as common to those in need, and not only his goods, but even his very body. For with his house he received travelers, and that house belonged more to them than to its owner; with the strength of his body he defended those who were wronged; with the understanding and wisdom of his tongue he silenced those who abused them, and showed forth the gospel way of life shining through all things. Consider: "Blessed are the poor in spirit," says Christ. This he himself accomplished through his deeds, saying: "And if I ever despised the judgment of my male servant or female servant when they contended with me—for what shall I do if the Lord should make visitation of me? Did they not come to be as I came to be in the womb? And we came to be in the same belly." "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." And who was gentler than that man, concerning whom even his servants said: "Who would give us to be filled with his flesh?" So vehement were they in their love for him.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." Nor was he without a share in this virtue. Listen, then, to what he says: "But if I sinned unwillingly, I was ashamed before the multitude of the people, so as not to confess my lawlessness." And one so disposed, it is evident, mourned it with great excess. "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." Observe that this too was accomplished by him with excess. "I broke," he says, "the molars of the unjust, and from between their teeth I snatched away the prey," and "I had put on righteousness, and I clothed myself with judgment as with a double cloak." "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." But this man was merciful not only in money, nor only in clothing the naked and feeding the hungry and setting widowhood aright and wrapping the orphan in care and comforting the maimings of nature, but also in the very compassion of his soul. "For I," he says, "wept and groaned over every helpless person, seeing a man in distress." For just as he was a common father of all, so the misfortunes of each he would set right, and others he would lament both through words and through

...sustaining those in misfortune by his sympathy and tears and by every means, and becoming a common harbor for all. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." And this he had achieved not by chance. Listen, then, to God bearing witness to him: "There is no man like him upon the earth, a man blameless, just, true, God-fearing, abstaining from every evil thing." "Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." And from this he reaped a great abundance of struggles and rewards. For he was not driven by men, but the very author of evil, the demon, attacking him and setting in motion all his devices, came against him thus, driving him from his house and his homeland and leading him out to the dung heap, casting him out from all his money, his possessions, his children, from the very health of his body, and delivering him over to the most grievous famine; and along with that one, some of his friends too, not by chance, leapt upon him and scraped at the wounds of his soul. "Blessed are you when they reproach you and persecute you and say every evil word against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in the heavens." But this beatitude too he enjoyed with great abundance. For those present at that time were slandering him, saying that he had been punished less than his offenses deserved, stretching out long accusations against him and words full of falsehood and calumny.

But nevertheless he snatched even these, who were about to be in danger, from the God-sent plague, bearing no grudge against them for any of the things that had been said. And here again he was fulfilling that commandment: "Love your enemies, pray for those who despitefully use you." For he both loved them and prayed for them, and he removed the wrath of God and dissolved their sin—although he had heard no prophet, no evangelist, no priest, no teacher, nor anyone else advising him about virtue. Do you see how great a thing a noble soul is, and how it is sufficient for virtue by itself, even if it enjoys no care from anyone? And yet he had ancestors who were not only not good, but who also displayed great wickedness. At any rate, Paul says concerning his ancestor: "Lest there be any fornicator or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of food sold his birthright."

14. Chapter 14. That even in the case of the apostles there were many scandals and many who were swept away, and persecutions of teachers and swift deaths. But what about the apostles, tell me? Were not countless such things happening? Listen at least to what Paul says: "You know this, that all those in Asia turned away from me, among whom are Phygelus and Hermogenes." Did the teachers not dwell in prisons? Were they not surrounded by chains? Did they not suffer the worst evils from their own and from strangers? Did not fierce wolves enter into the flocks after them, in place of them? Did not Paul foretell these things to the Ephesians when he summoned them to Miletus? "For I know this," he says, "that after my departure fierce wolves will enter in among you, not sparing the flock.

And from among your own selves men will arise speaking perverse things, to draw away the disciples after them. Did not Alexander the coppersmith furnish him with countless troubles, driving him from every side, warring against him, fighting him, and bringing him into such agony that he even gave charge to his disciple and said, "Beware of him also, for he has greatly opposed our words"? Was not the whole nation of the Galatians corrupted by certain false brethren? Was not Stephen, in the very beginnings of the preaching, flowing beyond the rivers and stopping the mouths of all, blocking the shameless tongues of the Jews, whom no one was able to withstand, who threw all Jewish things into confusion, who set up a brilliant trophy and a conspicuous victory—was not this noble and wise man, full of grace and benefiting so great a Church, after making no long time in the preaching, suddenly snatched away and condemned as a blasphemer and stoned? And what of James? Was he not also at the beginning, and from the very starting line, as it were, dragged away and cut off by Herod for the sake of the Jews, and so ended his life—such a pillar and so great a foundation of the truth? How many then were scandalized when these things happened? But those who stood stood, and stood the more. Hear, then, what Paul says when writing to the Philippians: "But I would have you know, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the Gospel, so that many of the brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word of God without fear." Did you see manliness? Did you see boldness? Did you see the vigor of a soul?

Do you see the philosopher's mind? They saw the teacher shut up in prison and bound with a chain, being strangled, being beaten, and suffering countless terrible things, and not only were they not scandalized, nor thrown into confusion, but they even acquired greater eagerness and received greater progress for the contests from the teacher's sufferings. But others, he says, were also drawn away. Yes, I do not dispute this either; for it is likely that many were drawn away when these things happened. But what I have often said and will not cease saying, this I will say now also: these men would be justified in reckoning this to themselves, not to the nature of the circumstances. For Christ, departing from here, left us this inheritance, saying: "In the world you will have tribulation," and "You will be brought before governors and kings," and, "There will be a time when everyone who kills you will think he is offering worship to God." So it is superfluous for you to bring forward those who are scandalized everywhere; for these things were always happening. And why do I speak of the apostles' affairs? How many were scandalized at the cross of our common Master himself, and became more lawless and more reckless, and as they passed by mocked him, saying: "You who destroy the temple and raise it up in three days, he saved others, can he not save himself? If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross and we will believe in you." Nevertheless, these men would have no defense because of the cross. For the robber accuses all such men.

For he too saw him crucified above, and not only was he not scandalized, but from this he received an even greater occasion for philosophy, and rising above all human things and lightened by the wing of faith, he philosophized about things to come. For seeing him given drink, impaled, scourged, insulted, spat upon with gall, mocked by so great a crowd, condemned by a court, led away to death, he was scandalized by none of these things; but seeing the cross and the nails driven in and so great a mockery being made by the corrupted multitude, he himself walked the straight road, saying, "Remember me in your kingdom," and he silenced the accuser and confessed his own sins and philosophized about the resurrection—and this though he had not seen the dead raised, nor lepers cleansed, nor the lame restored, nor the sea bridled, nor demons driven out, nor loaves gushing forth, nor the other things which the multitude of the Jews beheld and, having beheld, crucified him. But this man, seeing him impaled, both confessed him as God and remembered his kingdom and philosophized about things to come; while those, having seen him work wonders and having enjoyed his teaching both through words and through deeds, not only gained nothing, but were brought down to the very lowest abyss of destruction, to the

having led him up to the cross. Do you see that the ignorant and negligent gain nothing even from the things that benefit them, while the grateful and sober-minded are greatly benefited by the very things from which others are scandalized? This can be seen in the case of Judas and in the case of Job. For Judas was not saved even by Christ, who set the whole world aright; and Job was not harmed even by the devil, who destroyed so many. But the one, suffering countless evils, was crowned; while that other—who saw signs and himself performed them, who raised the dead and cast out demons (for he too had received this authority), who heard countless things about the kingdom and about Gehenna, who shared the mystical table, who partook of that most awe-inspiring supper, and who enjoyed so great a kindness and providence as Peter and James and John—indeed, far greater; for besides the other care and condescension, of which he partook abundantly, the money of the poor was also entrusted to him—then this man, after so many things, was driven into a bacchic frenzy and, receiving Satan into himself through love of money, became a traitor in his own mind and wrought the capital of evils, selling such blood for thirty pieces of silver and betraying the Master with a treacherous kiss. How many do you think were also scandalized in this, by the betrayal coming from a disciple?

What then of the citizen of the desert, the fruit of the barren woman, the child of Zacharias, who was deemed worthy to baptize that holy and awe-inspiring head and to become the forerunner of his own Master—when he dwelt in a prison, when he was beheaded and his slaughter became the wage of a harlot's dance, how many do you think were scandalized then? And why do I say "then"? How many even now, after so long a time, are scandalized when they hear these things? And why do I speak of John and the prison and that slaughter, and busy myself with servants, when I ought again to flee to the Master?

15. Chapter 15. That the foolish were scandalized even by the chief of the good things of the cross—I mean the cross through which the world was saved. For the cross of Christ, which set the world upright, which dissolved the error, which made the earth heaven, which cut out the sinews of death, which rendered Hades useless, which overthrew the citadel of the devil, which silenced the demons, which made men angels, which demolished altars and overturned temples, which planted this new and strange philosophy upon the earth, which wrought countless good things—these awe-inspiring, great, and lofty things—has it not become a scandal to many? Does not Paul cry out every day, saying, and is not ashamed: "But we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a scandal, to the Gentiles foolishness"? What then, tell me? Ought the cross not to have come to be, nor that awe-inspiring sacrifice to have been offered, nor so many achievements to have been accomplished, because the matter became a scandal to those who are perishing, both then and afterward and throughout all time?

And who is so mad, who so deranged, as to say this? Just as, then, in that case one must not reckon the ones who were scandalized—though they were so many—but rather those who were saved, those who succeeded, those who enjoyed such great wisdom; and one must not say, "But what about those who were scandalized?" For those men would be fit to be reckoned to themselves; so indeed not even now. For the scandal did not come from the nature of the cross, but from the folly of those who were scandalized; which is why Paul also adds: "But to those who are called,

both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God." Since even the sun harms weak eyes—what then? Should the sun not have come to be? And honey appears bitter to the sick—what then? Should this have been banished from the midst? And the apostles themselves—were they not to some a fragrance of death unto death, but to others a fragrance of life unto life? Because of those who perish, then, should the living not have enjoyed such great care? But this presence of Christ, our salvation, the fountain of good things, the life, the countless blessings—how many did it burden, how many did it deprive of defense and pardon? Do you not hear what Christ says about the Jews? "If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have had sin; but now they have no excuse concerning their sin." What then? Because their sins became inexcusable after his presence, should he not have come, for the sake of those who used the good badly? And who could say this? No one, not even of those who are utterly deranged. But come, tell me, from the Scriptures, how many were scandalized?

How many heresies from that source produced pretexts for themselves? Was it necessary, then, that the Scriptures be wiped out because of those who were scandalized, or that they not be given at all? By no means; rather, they had to be given most certainly for the sake of those who would reap the benefit from them. For those men—again I will not stop saying the same things—let them reckon the scandals to themselves; but those who would be benefited most greatly by them would have suffered no ordinary loss, if, because of the ignorance and negligence of others, they themselves, who were going to profit by receiving them, had been deprived of such benefit. Do not, then, tell me about those who are perishing; for, as I also said in the preceding discourse, no one who does not wrong himself is ever wronged by others, even if he is in danger of his very life.

16. Chapter 16. That no other person can harm the one who does not wrong himself. For how was Abel harmed, tell me, when he was struck down by a brotherly right hand and endured an untimely and violent death? Was he not rather profited, having bound upon himself a more radiant crown? And what of Jacob, who suffered so many things at the hands of his brother and became cityless and a fugitive and a stranger and a slave and was brought down to the utmost famine? And what of Joseph, who likewise himself became cityless, homeless, and a captive and a slave and a prisoner, and was in danger of the utmost extremities both in his own land and in a foreign one, and endured such slanders? And what of Moses, stoned ten thousand times by so great a multitude and plotted against by those he had benefited? And what of all the prophets, who suffered so many evils at the hands of the Jews? And what of Job, warred against by the devil with countless devices?

What about the three children? What about Daniel, who risked his life, his freedom, and his very last dangers? What about Elijah, living in the deepest poverty, driven out, fleeing, dwelling in the deserts, always becoming a fugitive and a wanderer? What about David, who suffered so much at the hands of Saul, and so much afterward at the hands of his own son? Did he not shine forth more brightly when he was suffering the worst evils than when he was enjoying prosperity? What about John, who was beheaded? What about the apostles, some beheaded, others handed over to other punishments? What about the martyrs, who gave up their souls under terrible tortures?

Did not all these men shine most brightly precisely when they were being abused, when plots were being laid against them, when they stood nobly firm while suffering the worst?

17. Chapter 17. That the cross is a proof of God's greatest providence, goodness, and love. When we hymn our common Master for all other things, is it not especially for this that we hymn Him, glorifying Him and being struck with amazement—for the cross, for that accursed death? Is this not the very thing Paul makes the constant sign of His love for us—that He died, that He died for such people? And passing over heaven, earth, sea, and all the other things Christ made for our use and rest, he turns the cross this way and that, saying, "But God commends His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us"; and from this he sets before us good hopes, saying:

For if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved in his life. Is it not especially in this that he himself also takes pride, and exults, and leaps, and flies for joy, writing thus to the Galatians: But far be it from me to boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ? And why do you marvel if Paul leaps and bounds and takes pride in this? He who himself suffered these things calls the matter glory. For he says, Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son. And the disciple who wrote these things said thus: For the Holy Spirit was not yet in them, because Jesus was not yet glorified, calling the cross glory. And when he wished to set forth his love, what did he himself say? Signs, wonders, some marvels? By no means, but he brings the cross into the midst, saying: For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that everyone who believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. And Paul again: He who did not spare his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not also with him freely give us all things? And when he urges us to humility, he builds his exhortation from this, saying thus:

If there is any encouragement in Christ, if any consolation of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, fulfill my joy, that you think the same thing, having the same love, being of one soul, thinking the one thing, doing nothing out of selfish ambition or vainglory, but in humility esteeming one another as surpassing yourselves.” Then, introducing his counsel, he says: “For let this be thought in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it a robbery to be equal with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of man and found in fashion as a man; he humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.” And again, when counseling about love, he brings this forward: “Love one another,” he says, “as also Christ loved us and gave himself for us, an offering and sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.” And joining wives to husbands in concord, he speaks thus: “Husbands, love your own wives, as also Christ loved the Church and gave himself for her.” And he himself, showing how this matter was earnestly important to him and how greatly he longed for the passion, when the first of the apostles, the foundation of the Church, the leader of the choir of the apostles, had said these things out of ignorance—“Be it far from you, Lord, this shall not be to you”—hear what he called him: “Get behind me, Satan, you are a stumbling block to me”; by the excess of both the insult and the rebuke, the

showing great zeal concerning his own matter. And he accomplished the resurrection secretly and in a hidden place, entrusting its demonstration to all the time that followed; but the cross he endured in the middle of the city, in the middle of the festival, in the midst of the people of the Jews, with both tribunals present, the Roman and the Jewish, the festival gathering everyone together, on the middle day, in the common theater of the world. And since those present saw only what was happening, he commanded the sun, which was hidden everywhere throughout the world, to proclaim the audacity. And yet to many, as I said before, the matter became a scandal; but one must not attend to these, but to those who are saved, to those who have succeeded. And why do you marvel if in the present life the cross is so brilliant that Christ himself calls it glory and Paul boasts in it? For on that fearful and dreadful day, when he comes displaying his own glory, when he comes in the glory of his Father, when the fearful judgment seat is present, when the whole nature of mankind stands by, when rivers of fire roar, when companies of angels and the powers on high are poured down all at once with him, when those countless prizes, when some shine as the sun and others as the stars, when bands of martyrs, when choirs of apostles, when ranks of prophets, when all assemblies of noble men are brought into the midst, then, then in that splendor, in that conspicuousness, he comes bringing it, sending forth bright rays.

For then, he says, the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light, but the sign of the cross will appear." O the splendor of the passion, O the radiance of the cross! The sun is darkened and the stars fall like leaves, but the cross shines forth more brightly than all those things, encompassing the whole heaven. Do you see how the Master adorns himself with this? How he shows the matter to be his glory, when on that day he displays it to the whole inhabited world with such great brilliance?

18. Chapter 18. That no small gain has come to the church from the events that have happened. And you too, therefore, whenever you see some who are scandalized by the events that have happened, first consider this: that they have their scandals not from these events, but from their own weakness; and those who have not suffered this make it clear. Then observe that many have even shone forth more greatly from this, glorifying God and giving thanks to him with all zeal even for these things. Therefore do not look at those who are shaken, but also at those who stand firmly and remain unmoved and thereby become stronger; not at those who are thrown into confusion, but also at those who sail with fair winds and are far more numerous than those swept away. And even if those were more numerous, one who does the will of the Lord is better than ten thousand transgressors.

19. Chapter 19. That many witnesses in this matter have been both living and dead. Consider how many have been crowned with the crown of martyrdom. For some were scourged, others were thrown into prison, others wore chains like criminals, others were driven from their homeland, others lost their property, others were deported into exile, others were slaughtered—some in deed, others in resolve. For though spears were bared and swords sharpened and threats were made every day, and those in authority breathed fury and threatened slaughter and countless kinds of punishments and penalties, they did not yield nor give way, but stood upon the rock unmoved, choosing both to do and to suffer all things, so as not to share in the lawlessness of those who had dared such things—and not men only, but women too. For women also stripped for this contest and in many places proved more manly than men. Nor women only, but also young men and quite young boys. Are these things, then, tell me, small—that the Church has gained so great a host of witnesses? For all these are witnesses. For it is not only those who were dragged into court and ordered to sacrifice and did not obey, having suffered what they suffered, who would be witnesses; but also those who consented to suffer anything for the sake of any one of the things that please God—and if one examines it carefully, these are witnesses even more than those. For it is not the same thing, when destruction of such a kind and loss of soul are set before one, to consent to suffer something and not perish utterly, and to endure this same punishment for a lesser achievement.

That not only those who were slain, but also those who were prepared and became ready for this, were crowned with the crown of martyrdom—this very thing, and what I said earlier, that he who is slain for lesser things is a perfected martyr—I shall try to prove from the voice of Paul. For the blessed Paul, beginning to enumerate those who shone among the forefathers and making the beginning from Abel, then proceeding to Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, added, saying: "Therefore we also, having so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us." And yet not all of these were slain—rather, not even one, except two or three, Abel and John; but all the others ended their life by their own death. And John himself, when commanded to sacrifice and not consenting, was slain—not led to an altar, nor dragged before an idol, but for the sake of one utterance. For when he said to Herod, "It is not lawful for you to have the wife of Philip your brother," he both inhabited the prison and endured that slaughter. But if he who avenged an unlawful marriage—as far as it depended on him (for he did not correct what had been done wickedly, but only spoke, and was not able to stop it)—if, then, he who only spoke and brought nothing of his own except this, when he was beheaded, is a martyr and the first of martyrs—

Those who endured so many slaughters and stood against not Herod but the rulers of the whole inhabited world, and who confronted not an unlawful marriage but ancestral laws and the ordinances of the Church when these were outraged, and who displayed boldness both through words and through deeds, and who died every day—both men and women and children—how would they not rightly be counted ten thousand times over in the choir of martyrs? Since even Abraham, though he did not in fact slay his son, slew him in his intention, and heard a voice from above saying, "You did not spare your beloved son for my sake." Thus everywhere the resolve, when it is complete in virtue, receives the whole crown. But if that man, who did not spare his son, was thus proclaimed, consider how great a reward these will receive, who did not spare themselves, standing on this battlefield not for one, not for two or three days, but for their whole life, being struck with reproaches, insults, outrages, slanders. For this too is no small thing. Therefore Paul also marvels at it as something great, saying, "On the one hand being made a spectacle by reproaches and afflictions, and on the other becoming partakers with those who suffer thus." What could one say of those who both die themselves and contend in such contests, anointing both men and women? And well does he marvel at them. For many also gave up their possessions, so that

They accepted having prisoners and exiles as some consolation for such great hardship, and they welcomed the plundering of their possessions with joy, according to that apostolic saying: others were driven out, some from their homeland, and some even from life itself. Seeing, then, so much wealth, so much gain, so much commerce gathered for the Church, so many treasures being laid up, those who had previously fallen back and those who were nailed to the theaters becoming fiercer than fire and going out into the deserts and making a church in the glens and on the mountains, with no one driving the flock out, the sheep transferring to the rank of shepherds and soldiers to that of the general, for the sake of boldness and courage, and all performing the assemblies with the fitting warmth, zeal, and care—are you not struck and filled with wonder at how great an achievement has come from this? For not only those living rightly, but many even of those raving about the theaters and attending to the chariot races, set ablaze by the fire of zeal fiercer than fire, put aside all that madness and almost leaped upon the very swords themselves, speaking boldly before rulers, despising tortures, laughing at threats, showing how strong virtue is and how it is possible for one who is utterly perishing, having repented and changed, to grasp the vault of the heavens. Seeing, then, so many prizes, so many crowns being woven, so much teaching taking place, tell me, from where are you scandalized? From those who have perished, he says.

But, as I said and will not stop saying, let them reckon to themselves the cause of their own destruction. For this is what our whole argument has struggled to demonstrate. Let me mention another accomplishment as well. How many who wore the mask of piety, how many who possessed a feigned gentleness, how many who were thought to be great men—and were not—were suddenly exposed in the present crisis, and the things of their deceit drained away from them, and they appeared as they were, not as they pretended and deceived? And this is no small thing, but exceedingly great for the benefit of those willing to pay attention—to discern those who have the skins of sheep and not to mingle the wolves, hidden in this way, with the true sheep. For this time has become a furnace, exposing what has bronze among the coins, melting down the lead, burning up the straw, and making the precious materials more precious. Paul also indicated this when he said: "For there must also be heresies, so that those who are approved may become manifest among you.

20. Chapter 20. That even worse things happened in the time of the apostles. So let none of these things scandalize you—neither a priest now become worthless and leaping upon the flock more savagely than any wolf, nor one of those in power displaying great cruelty. For consider that even worse things than these happened in the time of the apostles. For the one who then held the scepter was the mystery of lawlessness—for so Paul called him—having come upon every form of evil and having concealed all things by his wickedness; yet this harmed neither the Church nor those noble men, but even made them more illustrious. And the priests of the Jews were so worthless and wicked that the people were commanded to flee the zeal of their life: "For on Moses' seat," says the Savior, "the scribes and Pharisees have sat. Therefore all things whatever they say to you, do them; but do not do according to their works." And yet what could be more wicked than priests whose zeal was going to destroy those who imitated them? But nevertheless, even though those in power at that time were such, those who shone forth, those who were crowned, were harmed in nothing, but were glorified all the more. It is not fitting, then, to be surprised at these things—

For temptations are everywhere yoked to those who are watchful—from their own people, from strangers. For this reason Paul too, seeing the storms of dangers brought upon them and fearing lest some of the disciples be thrown into confusion by this, wrote and said: "I sent Timothy to you so that no one might be shaken by these afflictions; for you yourselves know that we are appointed for this." What he means is this: this is our life, this is the sequence of the apostolic way of life—to suffer countless evils. "For we are appointed for this," he says. What is "we are appointed for this"? Just as goods are brought out for this purpose, to be sold, so also the apostolic life is for this: to be reviled and to suffer evil, to never draw breath, to have no respite. And all who are watchful are not only not harmed by this, but even gain more greatly. Therefore he marvels at these too, after learning that they stood nobly; and he says these things about others as well—that after his bonds and chains they were more abundantly bold to speak the word without fear. And what about Moses, tell me? In the midst of a barbarian land, did God not allow even the magicians to display their own works? Does Paul not also remember this account? "Just as Jannes and Jambres," he says, "resisted Moses, so also these will resist the truth." Never have scandals failed, nor those who are crowned through them. Therefore reckon all these things, and not these only, but also how much gain has come from the matter. And consider that too—that there are certain other secret reasons for these things.

For it is not possible for us to know all things; and that the better things will come to pass after these things, and the wonder-working will be greater. Just as in the case of Joseph, the beginning had difficulty and the affairs went on for a long time appearing contrary to the promise; but later they became greater than expected. And in the case of the cross, the success did not blossom forth immediately, nor in the prelude and the beginning, but the scandal went forward and a few signs occurred for the sake of wonder and the correction of those who dared these things, and immediately all passed by. For even if the veil of the temple was torn then and rocks were split and the sun was darkened, yet these things happened in one day and passed into forgetfulness among the many. But after these things, immediately the apostles were in flight, in persecutions, in wars, in plots, hiding, concealed, fearing, and thus they preached the word; and the people of the Jews were in great power, leading, dragging around, hauling, tearing apart those who believed. For having the rulers with them, each day they led and dragged around the apostles. And why do I speak of the people and rulers of the Jews? One tentmaker, occupied with hides, Paul—and what is more worthless than a tentmaker?—was possessed by such madness as to drag men and women and deliver them into prison; and the one who was crucified endured these things, seeing them. But see how afterward this very persecutor surpassed all and the matter shone forth beyond the sun and took hold of the whole inhabited world.

21. Chapter 21. That both in the Old and in the New Covenant the temptations are many.

But if you say, "And for what reason are there both in the Old and in the New so many dangers, so many temptations, so many plots?" Learn also the cause. What then is the cause? The present life is a wrestling school, a gymnasium and contest, a crucible, a dye-works of virtue. Just as therefore the tanners, taking the hides, first steep them, stretch them out, beat them, dashing them against walls and stones, and by countless other treatments making them fit for the reception of the dye, thus apply the precious color; and the goldsmiths, casting the gold into the fire, deliver it to the torture of the furnace, so as to make it most pure; and the trainers, in the wrestling school, exercise the athletes with many toils, falling upon them more violently than their opponents, so that having accomplished everything in the training on their own bodies, they may be ready at the contests and prepared for the grips of the enemies and easily break them; so also God does in the present life. Wishing to refashion the soul to be fit for virtue, he both steeps and refines and delivers it to the torture of temptations, so that both those who are slack and dissolved may be tightened, and those who are approved may become more approved and unconquerable by the plots of the demons and the snares of the devil, and all may be exceedingly fit for the reception of the good things to come. For, he says, an untempted man is unapproved; and Paul: "Tribulation works endurance.

But endurance produces character. Wishing, then, to make them steadfast and patient, he allows the coin to be tested by ringing it in every way. For this reason he also allowed Job to suffer what he suffered, so that he might appear more approved and might stop the devil's mouth; for this reason he also allowed the apostles, so that they too might become more courageous and might display their own power in this way. For this cause too is no small one. Therefore he also said to Paul, when he was seeking relief and release from the evils that pressed upon him: "My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is perfected in weakness."

22. Chapter 22. That the things of temptations not only do not scandalize those who judge with sound understanding but even profit them, even if they happen to be Greeks. For those who have not yet come to the word of Christianity also gain more greatly from this, if they are sober-minded. For when they see people being wronged, reviled, dwelling in prison, abused, plotted against, cut to pieces, burned, drowned, and yielding to none of these terrors, consider how great a wonder they had at these paradoxical athletes, both those of that time and those of now, so that what has happened not only does not work a scandal for the sober-minded, but also becomes a basis for greater teaching. Therefore Paul also heard these things, that: "My power is perfected in weakness." This one can find both in the Old and in the New Covenant.

For consider what Nebuchadnezzar was likely to suffer at the hands of three youths—slaves, captives, bound, burning with fire—defeated while so great an army was present, and unable to prevail over three bodies enslaved, subject, cast out from their homeland, from freedom, honor, power, wealth, and removed far from their own people. If, then, that burning had not been permitted, the prize would not have been so brilliant, nor the crown so radiant. Consider what Herod was likely to suffer, being convicted by a prisoner and seeing that he did not yield his boldness even because of the chain, but chose rather to be slain than to betray that most noble freedom of speech. Consider who, seeing and hearing these things—both among those living then and those who came afterward—even if he be exceedingly relaxed and have but a small mind, how he departs having gained the greatest things. For do not tell me of the dregs of the foolish, those who are dull and fleshly and lighter than leaves. For these stumble not only at these things but at almost everything that happens, as also the people of the Jews, eating manna and bread, likewise

He was disagreeable, both while in Egypt and after departing from Egypt, both when Moses was present and when he had gone. But bring those men before me—the sober, the watchful—and consider how great the benefit they were likely to reap from this, seeing a soul unswerving, a mind not enslaved, a tongue full of boldness, a man who made his home in the desert prevailing over a king, bound and not yielding, cut down and not silent. And do not stop even there, but examine also what followed. Herod cut off; John was cut off. Who then is among the blessings of all? Who is enviable? Who is proclaimed? Who is crowned? Who is extolled? Who is praised? Who is admired? Who to this day reproves? Is it not in every Church that the one cries out, "It is not lawful for you to have the wife of Philip your brother," while the other is pilloried even after death for his adultery and lawlessness and audacity? Consider, along with what has been said, how great is the power of the prisoner and the weakness of the tyrant. For the one could not silence a single tongue, but by killing it, he opened ten thousand mouths instead of that one and along with it; while the other, even then, was immediately frightened by him after the slaughter—for so did fear shake his conscience that he thought he was then even risen from the dead and working wonders—and now, both from that time and through all time, he reproves him throughout the whole inhabited world, both through himself and through others. For each one reading this Gospel says, "It is not lawful for you to have the wife of Philip your brother.

And apart from the Gospel, in gatherings and associations, at home, in the marketplace, everywhere—even if you go to the land of the Persians, or to that of the Indians, or to that of the Moors, or to whatever land the sun looks upon, even to the very farthest ends—you will hear this voice and see that righteous man even now crying out, resounding and refuting the wickedness of the tyrant, and never falling silent, nor is the refutation withered by the length of time. What harm, then, did that righteous man suffer from his death? What from his violent death? What from his chains? What from the prison? Whom among those of sound mind did he not set upright, by what he said, by what he suffered, by what he still proclaims even now—the very things he proclaimed while alive? Do not say, then: "Why was he permitted to die?" For what happened was not death but a crown, not an end but the prelude to a greater life. Learn to philosophize, and you will not only suffer no harm from such things, but will gain the greatest benefits. And what of the Egyptian woman? Did she not accuse him? Did she not slander him? Did she not bind the righteous man? Did she not throw him into prison? Did she not hang over him the danger concerning the last things? Did she not destroy him, as far as it depended on her? Did she not surround him with an evil reputation? What harm, then, did she do him, either then or now? For just as coals of fire covered by chaff seem at first to be overshadowed, but suddenly consuming what lies upon them, through those very chaffs they kindle a higher flame—so too virtue, even if it seems to be abused, later through those very hindrances blooms more greatly and reaches even to heaven itself.

For what could be more blessed than that young man because of the slander, because of the plot, not because of the throne in Egypt, nor because of the kingship there? For everywhere, opinions and good reputations and crowns are allotted together with sufferings. Do not all people everywhere throughout the inhabited world sing of him? And such a great length of time has not withered his memory, but the images of his virtue and chastity are set up everywhere throughout the inhabited world, brighter and more lasting than royal images, in the land of the Romans, in the land of the barbarians, in each person's conscience, on each person's tongue. And we all see him held fast, beginning, advising the wretched and miserable prostitute as to what is necessary and contributing everything of his own to her salvation, shaming her shamelessness, quenching the furnace, attempting to snatch her from a harsh winter and bringing her to anchor in the calm; then, when the swell rose over and the ship became waterlogged, as she was shipwrecked, fleeing the waves and running to the solid rock of chastity and leaving his garments in her hands and appearing in his nakedness brighter than those clothed in purple, and like some champion and trophy-bearer, radiant, setting up the trophy of chastity. And not even in these things do we end his memory, but going further, we see him again led away to prison, bound, squalid, wasting away there for a long time.

And for this reason especially we marvel at him again, call him blessed, are astonished, and praise him. And if someone is temperate, by thinking on him he becomes more temperate; and if licentious, he is the more quickly changed by the account to temperance and is made better by the history. Reading over all these things, then, do not be troubled, but even profit from what happens; and let the endurance of those who contend become a teacher of steadfastness for you, and seeing the whole life of noble and lofty men woven through such things, do not be confounded nor disturbed, neither by private nor by public trials. For indeed the Church was thus nurtured from the beginning, thus grew. Be not surprised at anything, then, for nothing unreasonable has happened. But just as in worldly matters—not where there is chaff and grass, nor where there is sand, but where there is gold and pearls—there pirates and wreckers and robbers and housebreakers continually trouble and plot; so also the devil, wherever he sees wealth being gathered for the soul and an abundance of piety being increased, there he sets up his devices and brings them to bear. But if those who are plotted against are sober, they are not only not diminished by this, but even gather greater wealth of virtue—which indeed has also now happened.

23. Chapter 23. That the greatest proof of the Church's good repute is what took place, and that these things benefited many. And one might make this the greatest proof both of the wealth of her achievements and of the Church's courage. For when that wicked demon saw her flourishing, held in good repute, raised to a height in a brief turn of time, great zeal arising in her, and the progress of those in good repute toward the better, the transfer of those living in sins to repentance, and the whole inhabited world being catechized from this city, he stirred up all his devices and kindled civil wars. And just as in the case of Job, now the loss of his possessions, now the loss of children, now the sickness of his body, now his wife's tongue, now the reproaches and mockeries and insults of his friends—he stirred these up against the righteous man and brought every kind of device to bear; so too in the case of the Church, through friends, through enemies, through those enrolled in the clergy, through those enlisted in military service, through those honored with the episcopate, through many and all kinds of persons he stirred up what was in his power. But nevertheless, though he devised so many things, he not only did not shake her, but even made her more splendid.

For she did not then, when she was not being troubled, educate all people as she now teaches the whole inhabited world: to endure, to practice self-control, to bear temptations, to display perseverance, to despise the things of daily life, to consider wealth as nothing, to laugh at honor, to look down on death, to despise life, to disregard fatherland, household, friends, relatives, to strip for every kind of slaughter, to dive under swords, to regard all the splendid things of the present life—I mean honors and glories and power and luxury—as cheaper than the flowers of spring. And these things not one man alone teaches, nor two or three, but the whole people, and not through words only, but also through deeds—through what they suffer, through what they conquer, through what they prevail over those who plot against them, through which they endure all things firmer than adamant and stronger than rock, not stirring up weapons, not fanning war into flame, not shooting bow or arrows, but each one wrapped in a wall of perseverance, of discipline, of gentleness, of courage, putting to shame those who do them wrong by their suffering wrong with great abundance.

24. Chapter 24. That those who have transgressed in these matters also receive punishment from this. Now, at any rate, these men with a bright face, with free eyes, enjoying unutterable boldness, rush into the marketplace, move about in houses, desert to the assembly; but those who have done these things, at each one of the devices they bring forward, wrapping themselves up and having an evil conscience within, trembling, fearing, thus they go about. And just as beasts that die hard, after a first and second blow, falling more fiercely upon the points of the spears, drive a more grievous blow against themselves, receiving the wounds into their very entrails; and as waves dashed against the rocks destroy and dissolve themselves with the more violent rush; so indeed also these men, through the things they plot, dig pits for themselves rather than for others. For those who are plotted against have the whole inhabited world as lovers, praisers, admirers, proclaiming, crowning them—those who know, those who do not know, those who learn of their deeds from the facts, those from report, countless people grieving with them, struggling alongside them, all praying for their good; but those who plot have as many haters, and far more, accusers, slanderers, convicters, shamers, thousands cursing them, desiring to see them in chastisement and punishment. And these things here; but what account will set forth the things there?