De fato et providentia

OF OUR FATHER AMONG THE SAINTS JOHN, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, THE GOLDEN-MOUTHED, ON FATE AND PROVIDENCE, DISCOURSES SIX. ON FATE AND PROVIDENCE. Discourse 1. Our life is full of much turmoil, and the present age is filled with disturbances; but this, beloved, is not the difficult thing, but rather that these disturbances and turmoils, which we are able either to change for the gentler or, remaining, to bear without pain, we have practiced neither of these, but we spend the whole time in vexation; and one man bewails poverty, another sickness, another a mass of cares and the management of a household, another the rearing of children, another childlessness. And behold the excess of folly: for it is not over the same things, but perhaps over opposite things that we all lament. And yet if the nature of things were the cause of our lamentations, it would not be right to lament equally over opposite things; but if poverty is an evil and unbearable, the man living in wealth ought never to be distressed; and if childlessness is an evil, the man enjoying many children ought to be of good cheer. Again, if to administer the common affairs of the city, and to enjoy honors, and to have many subjects is enviable, then the untroubled and calm life ought to be shunned and hated by all men.

But now, when you see that rich and poor alike lament, and often the rich man does this even more than the poor man, and the one who enjoys office and the one who is ruled, and the father of many children and the one who has had none at all, let us not blame the disorder on circumstances, but on those who are unable to use them as they ought and to free themselves from all despondency. For the confusion and the tumult are not an upheaval of these things, but we ourselves and our own mind; so that if it is well ordered within us, even if countless storms are stirred up on every side, we shall sleep forever in calm and in a harbor; just as, if it is not well ordered, even if everything comes to us with favoring winds, we shall be in no better state than those who are shipwrecked. This, at any rate, one may see also in the case of bodies. For the man who has built up his body to be strong, even if he struggles against countless irregularities of the airs, will not only suffer nothing terrible, but will even gain an increase of strength through exercise and through contact with the bad mixture; but if he has a weak and feeble one, even if he enjoys the best mixture of the seasons, he will have no more benefit from this good fortune, since the weakness from within spoils the good fortune that comes from the seasons. So too we see it in the case of foods: for when the body of our stomach is strong and vigorous, whatever it may receive, even if it be hard, even if it be unmanageable for it, it transforms it into a pure humor, the natural mixture overcoming the badness that is in the food.

But when its tone is relaxed and slack, even if you offer it the most savory of all foods, it alters and corrupts it into the worst, the weakness of the stomach ruining its virtue. So too let us, when we see disorder in affairs, not blame God, beloved; for this is not to find a remedy for the wound, but to bring a wound upon a wound. Let us not ascribe the governance of the world to demons, let us not think that present circumstances are without providence, let us not set up against the providence of God the tyranny of some genesis and fate. For all these things are full of blasphemy, and the true confusion and disorder is not a drift of circumstances, but the reasoning of the one so disposed; and even if he enjoys ten thousand orders of good, as long as he has not corrected the disorder and confusion within himself, the good order in circumstances will profit him nothing more; but just as an eye, when diseased, will see darkness even at brightest noon, and things as other than they are, and the ray of light will profit it nothing more, but when healthy and strong it will be able even in the evening to guide the body safely; so too the eye of our mind, as long as it is strong, even if it sees things that seem disordered, will see them well; but when it is corrupted, even if you lead it up to heaven itself, it will condemn much disorder and confusion there as well. And that these things are so, I will furnish you many examples from both ancient times and our own. How many bear poverty easily, and for this reason do not cease giving thanks to God?

How many who have wealth and luxury do not give thanks, but blaspheme the Master? How many who have suffered no terrible thing accuse providence as a whole? How many who have lived in prison their entire lives bear that misery there with more gratitude than those who have lived in ease and safety? Do you see that it is the condition of the soul, and that one's own reasoning is the cause of both these things and those, and not the nature of the things themselves? So that if we took care of our own mind, there would be no disturbance, no disorder, no terrible thing at all, even if the affairs of our life were carried up and down more violently than any Euripus. For why, tell me, does Paul give thanks? And yet he is among those who have lived best, who have lived with virtue their entire lives, who have suffered such terrible things least of all; no one has been more righteous than he of all men under the sun, nor has anyone suffered more grievous things than he since men came to be. But nevertheless, seeing many living in wickedness and being cheerful and enjoying their present wealth, he gives thanks to God himself, and he urged this on all others too. Look to that man.

And when you see the wicked man in good cheer, when you see him exalted, when you see him prevailing over his enemies, avenging himself on those who have grieved him, having suffered no loss, with wealth flowing to him from every side, with all honoring and flattering him, while you are in all the opposite circumstances—in plots, slanders, conspiracies—do not think that you are among those cast aside; but looking to Paul, who is of your own portion, lift up your mind, recover your thoughts, do not fall down under despondency. Do not judge the friend of God and the enemy of God by prosperity and adversity here below; but if you see a man living rightly, yet emptied by disease, and looking toward piety, call him blessed and consider him worthy of emulation, even if he wears ten thousand chains and dwells in a prison all his life, even if he serves the unworthy, even if he is poor, even if he works in the mines, even if he suffers any terrible thing whatsoever. For he is blessed, even if he is tortured, even if he is burned, even if his body is consumed little by little. But if you see another man in licentiousness and wickedness, living in the worst evils, and enjoying great honor, ascending the royal throne itself, wearing a diadem, having a purple robe, and ruling over the whole inhabited world, weep and for this very reason count such a man wretched. For truly nothing is more miserable than a soul in such a condition, even if it has the whole inhabited world subject to it. For what profit is there in being rich in money, when one is poorer than all in virtue? And what gain is there in ruling over so many, when one cannot prevail over oneself and one's own passions?

But if we see a body in a bad condition and feverish, or afflicted with gout, or some consumption, or another incurable disease, we weep, even if he is richer than all, and all the more so the richer he is. For the perception of troubles becomes sharper when one has an abundance of necessities. For the one who is prevented from enjoyment by poverty has necessity as a consolation; but the one who is master to use everything, and is prevented by sickness, is the more inflamed by this very thing. How then is it not absurd, if we see someone afflicted with bodily sickness, to call him wretched, even if he is wealthy, but when the soul is in a bad condition—the soul, than which nothing is equal or more precious to us—to call him blessed for the sake of a little money, or a temporary honor, or another of the things that remain here and depart from us with this life, or rather often even before life? Do not do so, I beg you. These things are the causes of our disturbance, these of our turmoil. For this reason many accuse God, for this reason they think the world is without providence. As if they knew that there is no good in the present life except virtue alone—not wealth, not money, not health, not power, nor anything else—and that there is no evil in the present life except wickedness alone and vice and distortion of soul—not poverty, not sickness, not assault, not slander, and the other things that are thought to be terrible—they would never have uttered these things that they now utter, they would never have spent their time in despondency, they would never have called blessed those whom they ought to call wretched, they would never have called wretched those whom they ought to call blessed, they would not have been disposed as though these things were real.

For to count people blessed on account of much flesh, and a lavish manger, and much sleep is nothing other than to be disposed as concerning irrational animals; since this is their well-being too, or rather even among irrational animals this is a vice. Many donkeys and horses, at any rate, have been ruined, living in idleness and gluttony. Then, in the case of irrational animals, for which all virtue consists in bodily good condition, this is harmful; but in the case of humans, for whom all authority lies in the nobility of the soul, shall we set this down as virtue, and not be ashamed before heaven and the angels who are our soul's kin? Are you not ashamed even of the very nature and formation of the body? For God did not fashion it for us as for irrational animals, but as was fitting for one destined to serve a rational and immortal soul. For why did God make the eyes of all irrational animals look downward, but in your case set them in the head as in a citadel? Is it not because for them there is nothing in common with heaven, but for you it was established from the beginning, both by God and by nature, as a law to look intently on things above? Why did he make your body upright, but theirs again bent downward? Is it not again for the same reason, instructing you even from the very formation itself to have nothing in common with the earth, nor to be glued to present things? Let us not, then, betray our nobility, nor slip down to the low birth of irrational animals, so that he may not say of us too: A man being in honor did not understand.

For to define well-being by luxury, wealth, glory, and present circumstances is not the mark of those who have considered their own nobility, but of men who have become horses and donkeys. But may it never be that any such persons be present here, in a holy choir and spiritual theater and a God-fearing assembly. For this reason we enjoy divine hearing every day, so that, cutting off with the word as with a sickle the passions of the mind that are mad for matter, we may become fruitful trees and bring forth ripe fruit, laid up in the royal storehouse, bringing glory to the common Master and husbandman of our souls, and to us immortal life, which may we all attain, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, and power, and honor unto the ages of ages. Amen. ON PROVIDENCE AND FATE. Discourse 2. "He who speaks evil of father or mother, let him die the death," says the law; the law lay upon the Old Covenant, when the exactness of the best polity was not great, when it was an introduction of the divine, when the commandments were childish things, when the milk, when the pedagogue, when the lamp, when the type and the shadow. What then should we say concerning those now in grace, and in the truth of things, and in so great knowledge, who speak evil not of father and mother, but of God himself, the God of all? What punishment will receive such persons? What chastisement will suffice for the measure of their wickedness? What river of fire, what undying worm, what outer darkness, what bonds, what gnashing, what weeping?

All tortures are less—both those that are and those that are to come—than a soul so disposed, one brought down to such a depth of wickedness. But the modes of blasphemy are many and various; therefore it is necessary to set them out today, so that no one may fall into any such thing willingly, nor overlook a friend—or even an enemy—falling into it. For there is not, there is not any sin worse than this, nor even equal to it. Rather, it is also an addition of evils, and that which confounds all things, and it has an unforgivable punishment and an unbearable penalty. Who are those who speak evil of God? Those who set the disorder and necessity that comes from fate as a rampart against the wisdom of his providence. And that the unbelievers, who gape at wood and stones and worship them, should be sick with this disease is no wonder; but that those who have been delivered from this error and slavery, and have been deemed worthy to know the God over all, the true and truly God, should be dragged down, as if by some backwash, to that tempest, that recklessness and madness—this is the most terrible thing, and truly worthy of many tears and lamentations.

When those who say they worship Christ, who have been deemed worthy of such great mysteries, who have partaken of the secret doctrines, and of the wisdom brought down to us from heaven—after so great an honor which they have enjoyed from God—willingly cast themselves down headlong, throwing themselves out of the freedom which God granted them with great irrationality, and subjecting themselves to the most grievous slavery, and fashioning for themselves through their reasonings a most tyrannical tyranny that does not exist, and cutting off every good hope, and attempting to cut the sinews of those who are earnest for virtue. Just as in war, when some enemy sees noble soldiers, who are ready to give up their very life for their fatherland, and is unable to harm them in another way, nor to turn them away from their zeal for the king, nor to make them cowards, nor to overcome them by devices, he might damage them in another way, attempting to persuade them that they display so much toil in vain and for nothing and to no purpose, so as to loosen their hands, so as to cast down their strength, so as to quench their zeal, so as through all these things to turn them away from their earnestness concerning the war, and, thinking them naked and unarmed, to take them bound as captives—so also the devil has done. Since he saw that by the grace of God the greater part of the world laughed at the Greek error, and with all zeal and with all their soul championed the word on behalf of piety, and that from this there arose much earnestness for virtue, much

But out of contempt for wickedness, he does not dare to come forward and say openly, "Depart from Christ, mock the doctrines that come from him; his teachings are a myth and a deception; he is some wicked and inhuman being." For he knows that in this way they would more readily leap away from his tyranny and hate him more greatly. For this reason he does not introduce the accusation directly, but circling around, he secretly sows the venom of his impious doctrines, appearing to leave them remaining in the faith, while in truth he tears it up by the root, and destroys all the doctrines of the truth, and pours out great slander against God among those who are persuaded. For this reason this poison and these deadly drugs of fate have been prepared by him, so that he might secretly introduce all the things I have mentioned, so that he might show our understanding to be empty and our faith empty, so that he might persuade people to hold a wicked judgment concerning God—which indeed he also did at the beginning in the case of Adam, slandering God as some envious and jealous being. For he all but said this in what he advised: "God knew," he says, "that your eyes would be opened; he knew that you would be as gods; he envied you, he begrudged you a greater honor." For even if he did not add these words, he gave them grounds to suspect this from what he said. And observe the villainy.

Having overturned God's verdict and said that great goods would be theirs if they did not obey him—such as the opening of the eyes, equality with God, and knowledge dependent on it—he no longer added that the one who keeps them from these things is wicked, lest he seem to be defending himself like some enemy and adversary, but by putting on the persona of a counselor and guardian, he might make his evil advice easily acceptable; and that is exactly what happened. For he wished to bring about nothing else by what he said than this: "Depart from God who made you; he is grudging and envious; he envies you the greater goods." But he did not set forth these words openly; for then they would have suspected him of being an enemy and fled. Instead, by omitting to say these things to them and wrapping them up, he introduced this deadly counsel. So indeed even now he does not say, "Depart from Christ," as though the divine doctrines had been condemned; for he knows that he was lying and was not believed. But craftily he seems to leave us in these things and to concede to the truth, yet in another way, without their knowing it, he removes them from this eternal inheritance; just as if someone, holding a legitimate and free child—simple and innocent—by the right hand, should not cast him out of his father's house, but should advise him to do things through which, willingly and unwillingly, he will fall out of all his father's possessions. For it is not possible, it is not possible, for one who attends to fate to attain the heavens, or rather it is not possible for him to escape Gehenna and punishment; for he commands all to obey in opposition to the doctrines of God. God says, "If you are willing and listen to me, you shall eat the good things of the earth.

But if you are unwilling, and will not listen to me, the sword shall devour you. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken these things. Do you see how God speaks, and what kind of laws he lays down? Hear also how fate speaks, and how it introduces contrary ordinances, and learn that those things were spoken by the divine Spirit, but these by an evil demon and some savage beast. God said, "If you are willing, and if you are not willing," making us masters of virtue and vice, and placing it upon our own judgment. But what does that one say? That it is impossible to escape what is fated, whether we will or whether we will not. God says: "If you are willing, you shall eat the good things of the earth"; she says, even if we are willing, but it has not been given to us, there is no benefit in being willing. God says, "If you are unwilling to attend to my words, the sword shall devour you"; she says, if we are not willing, but it has been given to us, we are certainly saved. Does not fate say these things? What then would be clearer than this battle? What more manifest than this war, which the demons, the teachers of wickedness, have thus shamelessly chosen against the divine oracles? But, as I said, that demons and other men—other demons, I mean the Greeks—should be persuaded of these things is no wonder; but that you, who enjoy such divine and saving teaching, should dishonor these things and run to those most irrational ones, which bring destruction of the soul—this is the most grievous of all. For why should I even judge those outside?

For my part, my account is for now directed to you, the members of Christ, the children of the Church, those being educated in the Father's house, those who enjoy heavenly teachings, those honored with so great an honor. For this reason I groan, for this reason I weep and lament; for truly worthy of lamentation, when someone falls into falls not even worthy of forgiveness. For what forgiveness, tell me, is there when God declares and demons speak in opposition, and what is said by them seems more credible to you than what comes from God's own? For we are not now stirring up reasonings, but for the present we will show the recklessness of those who obey them. God says, I have set before you fire and water, life and death; stretch out your hand to whichever you wish. The demon says that it is not in you to stretch out your hand, but by some necessity and force. And it seems more credible to you, and you do not perceive the middle ground of those who counsel, that the one is God, the other a demon; you do not examine the difference of the counsel, that the one is saving and calls to virtue, the other is truly demonic and calls to vice and wickedness; you do not consider the things that have come to you from God and those from the demon, that the one so loved you as to give the Only-Begotten for you, than whom nothing was more precious to the Father, and still loves you, so as even to entreat you through the apostles for your salvation, and does everything; while the other so hated and hates you as to war against you through all things and not only to give nothing good, but even to attempt to cast out those things you received from God.

The one strove to make you equal to the angels, while the other made you more dishonored than those who walk on the ground, and persuaded them to worship you; the one draws you to the kingdom of the heavens and the other honors, while the other envied even what was given to you here, and did not desist until he cast you out. For if you cannot discern his doctrines, though they are clearer than the sun to those not too dull-witted—so too these things of God have their virtue and salvation plainly evident, and those things their wickedness—yet even so, if you cannot see into them, at least learn from those who counsel you what is saving and what is harmful. For how is it not absurd, in the case of other matters, to use this judgment: if a physician gives someone food, not to be inquisitive, but to accept it as productive of health; but if a poisoner and a sorcerer, not to busy oneself, but to turn away from it as deadly and harmful—yet in the case of God not to use even this middle course? And yet the difference between God and a demon is as much greater than between a physician and a poisoner as it is not even permitted to say, nor to set before the mind and in speech. How then is it not the utmost absurdity, where the difference between those providing the food is smallest, not to be inquisitive, but to use the quality of the persons in place of all instruction; but where the difference between those counseling is so great, to need argument in order to learn that the one is saving and the other harmful? Do not, I beg you, do not let us be more irrational than the irrational beasts, but let us leap away, and not incline our ears: Evil communications corrupt good manners; and those who have been deceived cannot obtain forgiveness.

For what reason is it that if you see a pestilential and diseased place, you flee from spending time there, even if countless things draw you to that dwelling, preferring the health of the body to all things; but when certain people are filled with pestilential speech and with a disease that destroys not only the body but also the soul, and makes it worse and more worthless, do you not leap away? Listen, says a certain wise man: do not stand, but leap away; do not linger, fearing even the briefest stay among these things. We say this, not fearing the strength of their doctrines, but fearing your weakness. For to us, by the grace of God, their teachings appear weaker than spiders' webs, and to those who are established in the faith, even if they chant into our ears ten thousand times, they incur so much the more laughter from us, like madmen and those who have departed from their own senses; but it is your weakness that we fear. I do not say what has been said against all, but against those who are liable to what is said. Since even Paul, who prevails over all, showing his disciple Timothy not only teaching but also, concerning the disputes of others, the word-battles, exhorts him to avoid empty babblings. Brief is the time of our life, small is the provision for salvation. If, then, we spend the brief time given to us to learn something useful on superfluous and unprofitable and harmful hearings, when shall we thereafter have leisure for another to learn the necessary and urgent things? For indeed, even if it were long, one ought to spend all of it on useful things.

But when it is also brief and short, how is it not the height of folly to spend its brevity on corrupt doctrines for our soul? What need have you of medicine? Do not receive the blow, do not waste time on curing what you take from others and already have; build up your health from the divine Scriptures, and if someone comes saying something else, stop your ears, leap away at once, do not linger. And if, when a council of kings had assembled, you would not have endured to take part in the council, since by sharing in the hearing, even if no agreement should follow, you would be in danger altogether; when something is said against God, and a doctrine full of accusation against him is being rehearsed, will you not flee, will you not hate the blasphemous tongue, will you not block the godless mouths? And how will you be able to pray to God with boldness, sharing in the slanders against him? Do not, I beg you. These things have been said by me not to those present—or rather, also to those present. For even if you are blameless, yet those whom you know to be sick with this disease, pour out these and many other words upon them, so as to pull the evil up by the root. May it come to pass by the prayers of the saints and friends of God—for our words are not so strong as the boldness of their prayer—may it come to pass that all of us, and as many as contribute to the fullness of the Church, having been delivered from these evils, may stand with boldness before the judgment seat of Christ, to whom be the glory. Amen.

On Fate and Providence, Discourse 3. I know that I spoke recently about fate to your love, but nothing prevents us from exercising our discourse today on the same subject as well—not because the affliction is strong, but because our laziness is unspeakable, the kind that makes even small ailments great. Since it is clear even to a blind man by nature that the faithful person has no need of arguments or teaching for fleeing this evil. For just as the one who inhabits our inhabited world, and lives by our laws, and is subject to the same emperors, does not need to be persuaded that he ought not to introduce the Persian constitution into ours, but only to be forbidden—so indeed also here. For of sins, some require argument and teaching, but others are so manifest and clear that they are prevented by fear and punishment alone; for example, murdering, committing adultery, stealing—these do not need arguments. For this reason the lawgiver did not compose teaching concerning these things to resound around us, that the matter is evil—for he had already anticipated us by reason—but only forbade: You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder. But when he speaks to us about contempt for widows and the wrongdoing of deposits, he also sets forth reasonings: Show mercy to the widow, he says, and to the stranger; for you too were a stranger in the land of Egypt. Honor the Sabbath, he says, by idleness; then he also sets forth a reasoning. Therefore, abstaining from fate is not among those things that require reasoning, but among those that are clear.

For just as it is clear that murder is evil and adultery is base, so it is clear that to pay heed to fate is evil and forbidden. For do not suppose, from the fact that people are persuaded of it, that it is among the things not forbidden; since murder too is dared, and it is forbidden by the laws, and adulteries and robberies are among the things forbidden, although they are committed by the many. Since it is among the things forbidden, just like murder, by the very laws of the Greeks themselves, let one of those who have committed adultery with so-and-so's wife come forward and, when accused in court, say, "It was not I, but my birth; for I wished to be chaste, but that power thrust me on and drove me into it"—will he not for this very reason pay a harsher penalty, as one offering ridiculous defenses? Will he obtain any pardon? By no means. And yet, on their principles, he ought to. For if all things happen by birth and not by choice, there is no defense greater than this. For if choice is sovereign and more powerful than birth, then there would be no birth; but if, even should one devise countless schemes, the commands of that power must necessarily be fulfilled, then this man is punished in vain, and will not obtain pardon; but no one will listen to him either when he defends himself or when he obtains pardon; so thoroughly has the matter been discredited among all, and it seems to be a myth and nonsense.

Many rulers, even if they suffered violence at the hands of a man, this very fact suffices for a defense when they are accused—indeed, it no longer seems to be even a charge at all. At any rate, many rulers, when accused of unjust murders, have paid the penalty, yet the executioners who served the murder and became the very hands of the slaughter, no one has ever dragged into court, nor even sought out—the office itself pleading in their defense, along with the fear of subordination. Then, do they know how to pardon a man who is compelled by a man of the same race and kindred nature? But should they not pardon far more the one compelled by fate? For one ought to have escaped. But its power, as they say, is so inescapable that whether one reaches a desert, or the sea, or wherever one may go, he will not escape its designs. How then is it not absurd that the one oppressed by the violence of barbarians enjoys the fullest pardon, so that the office is not even accused, while the one compelled by a stronger power, as they say, pays the penalty and is not even granted a word for such a defense?

For no one who ever appealed to fate escaped—not a criminal in the courts, not a slave in the household, not children in the schoolroom, not students in the crafts, in whatever matters they go wrong. How is it, then, that some who champion fate dishonor it, and grant no share of forgiveness to the necessity that comes from it? Thus in truth, and by their own conscience, they have thoroughly convinced themselves that the matter is a myth. But whenever they fall into grievous sins, they add yet another, as though by this means they will escape the penalty laid up for them—though in fact they will pay it more grievously. For sinning is not so grievous as to be shameless after the sin, and to slander God for one's own evils. This is worse than every sin; which indeed the devil also made his effort, so that we should not only become slack toward virtue and ready for vice, attributing the cause of all things to God, but also, with the pretext of a defense, make our soul and our tongue blasphemous, accusing God himself, and setting aside the slander from ourselves who are the doers, and transferring the accusation to him who is not the cause. And yet even in the case of men, if anyone appears to have dared such a thing, this alone suffices for his accusation and destruction. For when a man who has done nothing terrible slanders another, he is liable to punishment for the audacity of those who have acted. See, then, how many evils the devil has brought about from fate: contempt for virtue—

For it relaxes the soul, even if it is exceedingly eager for its own labors, when it has been persuaded that none of the things that happen is in our power—an easy fall into an evil deed. For when someone has learned that committing adultery or murder, or digging through walls, is not worthy of accusation, he will not cease, like one on a downhill slope, being carried along with eagerness to make Providence a slanderer, and to become a slanderer against God. Tell me, what evil could be worse than this? Let us therefore flee, beloved, this idolatry; truly there is death in the cauldron, and everyone who draws from it even a little of the corrupted doctrines must by all means die, unless he turns back and enjoys pure health. So that we may not afterward lament in vain, when the appointed time for our repentance is cut off after our departure from here, while we are masters of ourselves, let all of us who have been caught by the disease repent and recover ourselves; and let all of us who are healthy keep our health pure, and extend a hand to those already seized beforehand. For if we show such zeal and care for those sick in body, when a sickness of the soul lies before us, what ought we not to do? And what would we not endure, so as to recover the brother who contributes to our connection as a member, who also has his place in the fullness of the body of the church? Let us therefore do everything for his sake, let us act everything for his sake, driving away the dogs and the wolves, and let us not consider our own salvation sufficient for us.

For just as it has been said, "If you saw a thief, you ran along with him, and you set your portion with adulterers," so indeed here also we shall hear: when we see one of our brothers stealing with words and whisperings, we shall hear the same things. The Church is a master's house; the faithful are precious vessels. When, therefore, you see one of those outside wishing to steal away one of the vessels, even if you yourself are invulnerable, since you are about to be in danger if you overlook it and do not come forward and speak to those who have authority to correct it, you have become guilty of that man's soul—you who see the thief breaking in and do not prevent him, either through yourself or through another. I say these things not as though the danger simply hangs over you, but so that you may secure yourself, so that you may perhaps take thought for your own salvation and that of others. For thus we shall be able both to obtain the promised good things, by the grace of Christ, to whom be glory unto the ages of ages. Amen. On Providence and Fate, Discourse 4. For me, to say the same things is no burden, but for you it is safe. But if Paul needed continuous teaching for his disciples—Paul, who taught with the grace of the Spirit, who drove out enemies with a command, who destroyed the passions of all, Paul who was honored, whom all heard as an angel come down from heaven, or rather as Christ himself—if, then, he had need to say the same things continually, how much more do we, who are worthy of no account. For indeed it is truly safe for you to hear often about the same things, and not only about the same things, but also the same things about the same things.

Let no one be vexed, nor suppose that he is being troubled by us, if we are going to say the same things again about the same subject. For if one could be confident that once you have heard, you put aside the disease of the soul, then most of all we ought not even so to desist, but ought still to speak about the same things, so as to make your health stable and firm, and to make you hard to overcome so that you do not fall into the same deeds again. But since we suspect that there are still some remnants of the evil among the hearers, our continual exhortation about these things is both necessary and reasonable. For today it is necessary to say how we might escape. How then might we escape? First, by prayers and by converse with God; second, by pious reasonings. For if you see what things are to come and what things are present, and bring the right verdict about each, this evil will never touch your soul. When, then, you see someone rich beyond his worth, do not call him blessed, do not consider him enviable, do not condemn God's providence, do not suppose that present things are borne along in vain and at random, because so-and-so is rich beyond his worth. Remember Lazarus and the rich man, how the one had reached the extreme of wealth and luxury, being cruel and harsh and inhuman and wilder than the dogs themselves—since indeed they pitied the poor man and tended him, not shrinking from touching with the tongue the sores over his whole body, while he did not even share crumbs with him.

Consider, then, how he himself had been driven to the very peak of prosperity, while that poor man—the one who was truly rich, truly well-off—had fallen to the very depths of poverty and lacked even the food necessary for survival, wrestling with disease and unrelenting famine. And the one had his need as a master, while the other did not even enjoy a moderate sufficiency. Yet he did not resent it, he did not utter a blasphemous word, he did not accuse God, he did not blame providence, he did not attribute what had happened to fate, he did not say to anyone—no, not even to himself—"I, who have done no wrong in particular, pay so great a penalty and endure the ultimate punishment, wasting away with famine, consumed by a most grievous disease, little by little being destroyed and disgraced; while this man is rich and lives in luxury, dwelling amid others' misfortunes, the one who revels in my calamities. And God has made that inhuman, pitiless, cruel, and stony man master of so much wealth, but me—who have not provoked him even with mere words—he has let be stretched out by such great labors. Where is this worthy of righteous judgment? Where is this worthy of providence and of his care for us?" None of these things did that man say. How then is it not absurd that, when those who suffer grievously themselves thus bless the Master in all things, you—who stand outside the struggle—blaspheme God on their behalf, on behalf of those for whom others give thanks? The one who suffers terribly, even if he should say some burdensome and vexatious word—even if not of as much [excuse] as another, yet nonetheless he partakes of a lesser forgiveness.

But the one standing outside of these terrors, and destroying his own soul on behalf of others, of what forgiveness would he be worthy, blaspheming God on behalf of those things for which the one who has suffered evilly gives thanks, and does not cease hymning him continually? When you see a righteous man suffering evilly, remember this example; for you could not now tell me of anyone more righteous than he; for it is clear from his endurance, clear from his rewards; for he has obtained the first place of rest, being honored with the patriarch Abraham; nor one who has suffered greater evils, nor one so overlooked. For what could you say, when he does not even have it to be filled with the crumbs that fall? When, then, you see extreme wickedness—for what is more savage than the one running past a man in such great misfortune?—to speak of wickedness not joined to itself; what, then, could be more prosperous than that table, and than the clothing, extreme luxury and prosperity? Again, when you see extreme righteousness—for what could be more beloved of God than a soul suffering such things, and bearing nobly extreme misery? For what could be more wretched than hunger and a disease so incurable? What forgiveness do you have, tell me, being scandalized in other matters? For have affairs stood still until the present life? Wait for the end, and then you will see what is according to the worth of each one's life; do not be turbulent before the prizes, not before the crowns. When, then, you see both entering into the courtroom, and obtaining the verdict, then do you also bring forth the judgment concerning each one.

How many now lie in wait on the roads, how many dig through walls, how many break open the tombs of the departed, how many have plotted against others' marriages, how many have destroyed many by poisonous drugs? Do we then, on their account, bring accusation against the judge? By no means. For if he took them and let them go unpunished, and punished the one who suffered evilly while honoring the one who did it, and sent him out crowned, he would be truly worthy of accusation and of the utmost charges. But when they have not yet been handed over, nor the time of the verdict has come, nor does he himself yet demand the accounts, do you preemptively condemn them beforehand? But, he says, they ought to have paid the penalty for their sins right from that point. Consider what you yourself have lived through, O man; enter into your own conscience, and you will change your mind; you will not praise this verdict, but you will approve the humane God of long-suffering. For if each person were to be required to pay the penalty for his transgressions right at the very acts of sin, our race would long ago have been snatched away and perished. For who will boast that he has a pure heart, or who will boldly claim to be clean from sins? But when you are pained at God's long-suffering, reckon up your own transgressions with precision, and you will be grateful for his forbearance, marveling at his patience. You are disturbed and distraught, and you fill everything with confusion, because so-and-so is rich beyond his deserts and enjoys the attendance of the many; then do you not hear the psalmist saying, Do not fear when a man becomes rich, because when he dies he will not take all of it with him, nor will his glory go down after him?

Do you not hear the prophet crying out with a loud voice, "All flesh is grass, and all the glory of man is as the flower of grass"? Do you not see the truth of things themselves bearing witness to the declarations of the prophets? Do you not see that experience and the outcome cast their vote in favor of what has been said—"When he dies, he shall take nothing with him"? Hear Job saying this very thing: "Naked I came out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I depart"—because "when he dies, he shall take nothing with him." Hear Paul philosophizing the same things: "We brought nothing into the world; it is clear that we can carry nothing out." But you call a man blessed who can carry nothing away from here—nothing of those things that are owed to him and must stand before him on the day of judgment. And what other limit of wretchedness is there, tell me, and what greater misery, than when a man who has lived in great luxury departs from here more dishonored than all? But if you see any of these who are wealthy and swaggering in the marketplace—

Did you see, in the case of another's house, a man enjoying great honor, having parasites and flatterers, but when he returned to his own affairs, being allowed to take none of those things, but appearing naked, dishonored, more destitute and more worthless than beggars—did you then consider this man enviable, or did you not rather pity and bewail him for this very reason? Do the same in the case of the rich. But there are some who, whenever we bring forward these words of philosophy, being fastened to their belly like swine and goats, and enslaved to present circumstances, think that nothing exists after the departure from here; and others think that something does exist, but they prefer the present to the things to come. Now against those who think that nothing exists, but that our soul is extinguished, and who suppose that no one gives an account or submits to an audit, it is perhaps even ridiculous to argue, just as with madmen and those who are out of their minds. For if someone in the daytime were to doubt that it is day, and were to dispute about things agreed upon by all, there would be no occasion to persuade such a person by argument and to bring him to the doctrine; nevertheless, for the sake of your love, we will also converse with that man, as the grace of God may grant. What do you say, O man, do you think that nothing exists after these things? For this must be said: how, as if handing a man over to a chain of evils by an ever more impious doctrine, the devil delivers over the one who has once turned aside from the truth. For observe:

It persuaded them to neglect self-control, gentleness, and the rest of virtue; it made them base in their manner of life, living thereafter with a wicked conscience, and seeking to transfer to others the recompense for their own sins, when they ought to have changed from their wickedness. This they did not do, but they fabricated a wicked doctrine, full of countless evils—the doctrine of fate. Then, when they are again refuted on this point and compelled to agree that the present things are nothing, they overturn the future and abolish the doctrine of the resurrection. And if we refute this too, they fall into another doctrine and blaspheme; nevertheless, for now let us refute what is at hand. Is there nothing, O man, after these things, and do you stand by these doctrines? The Greeks babbled many such things, yet they did not set themselves against the truth of this doctrine; but even if one follows them, they nonetheless granted some life after these things, and accounts, and tribunals in Hades, and punishments, and honors, and verdicts, and judgments. And if you ask the Jews, or the heretics, or any man at all, he will be ashamed at the truth of the doctrine, and even if they differ in other matters, yet in this all agree and say that there are accounts there for what has been done here. But you wish to be persuaded by none of these, but you are shameless, delivering yourself once for all to error. Therefore, for the sake of those who are still sober, it is necessary to stir up arguments about these things. For one who confesses that there is nothing after these things must necessarily confess that there is no God either. Do you see what I said, that the later doctrines always belong to the baser sort, following upon the first doctrines—the very things that will succeed them?

For if there is nothing there after these things, neither is there a God. For if there is a God, he is just; and if he is just, he assigns to each according to worth; but if there is nothing after these things, where will each receive according to worth? For pay attention: many contrary to worth, as they themselves beforehand confessed, fare well here and are honored, while others are punished though living in righteousness. If, then, there is no time after these things, the righteous will depart having been wronged, and the unjust having fared well contrary to worth; but if these things will not be, how could justice be? For it is necessary either that there be some time after these things that assigns to each according to worth—for here we do not find it—if indeed there is no time, how will each receive according to worth? But if no one receives according to worth, neither is God just, according to you; and if God is not just, neither would he be God. But may the blasphemy recoil upon the head of those who force us into these things. Do you see to what great blasphemy the argument has been carried? But indeed that God exists, the facts cry out; therefore he is also just; and if he is just, he assigns to each according to worth; and if he assigns to each according to worth, it is necessary that there be some time after these things in which each will receive according to worth, and will pay the penalty, and will be honored for the things he has done rightly. Let us sober up, beloved; some have an ignorance of God; let us sober up, let us be watchful. You sinned, do not add further; you sinned, be at rest; you sinned, do not bind sin twice. But we bind threefold and fourfold, bringing a burden of such doctrines into our souls.

You have sinned; recognize the Master, the merciful one, the lover of humanity, the good one, the physician, the one who forgives, the one easily entreated, the one easily appeased. Have you not heard that a certain man who had consumed ten thousand talents and had destroyed and squandered all his master's substance, and was ready even to sell his wife and children, as soon as he wept, as soon as he touched his feet, found release and forgiveness of all that debt? But if you say that after these things he handed him over to the torturers, those who know the story know it; you are telling me of another instance of loving-kindness. For even then he had mercy on him and released him, and again he had mercy on that one and cast him in; just as then he acted to help this one, so now he was exacting payment to help that one—this one so that he might teach him not to be cruel or inhuman, and that one so that he might rid him of violence and inhumanity. Do you see, beloved? For this thought came to me well as I was speaking: how not only grasping and plundering, but also not showing mercy, becomes for us the cause of Gehenna. For this man, not because he took what belonged to others unjustly, but because he demanded his own inhumanely, was handed over to the torturers; for it has been said that that one owed. But even if that one owed, you also owed the same debt, and the same justice ought to have been observed in both cases. For this reason he forgave you, so that he might show you his loving-kindness, so that he might make you a zealous imitator of the Master's gentleness. But since, having received kindness, you did not become better, he corrects you by another means, that of chastisement, that of punishment; so that even this is a kind of benefaction.

He delivered them to the torturers, so that he might remove wickedness from the soul, like the best physician. Since you did not yield to a gentle remedy, from now on you need iron and fire. He knew countless talents of sins, and that you are savage and inhuman, but he waited to defend himself to you through the outcome of events, which he often does, knowing that he acts justly. After defending himself to you, he does this: for example, in the case of Sodom he did not simply release the fire, nor did he snatch away those cities, but what? The cry of Sodom and Gomorrah, and not even up to this point, but, I will go down and see. And he did not stop even there, but he sends the angels to show you the wickedness of those inhabiting the city, so that no one even of the shameless might have grounds to blaspheme God, saying that those who were inhospitable, who were inhuman, who were lawless, and who were ignorant of the rights of justice, and who overturned the common laws of nature, and who were filled with wickedness had to perish. What is equal to so humane and gentle a God? And yet we, when we punish, do not think it right often to state the reasons; but he, unless he first teach you, unless he first persuade you, and receive your verdict, that he brings punishment justly, does not take vengeance on those long worthy of punishment and vengeance, and he is ready to give you accounts in many places, and he is judged against you and does not shrink from going to court. You see the prophets filled with these words; everywhere are the courts of God against humans. And often he calls those who have done wrong to be judged, and often

creation seated at the voting-pebble, showing the conspicuousness of his righteous deeds; God does not decline to call to judgment either the adversary himself or things without sense; which is our custom to do, whenever we trust in our own righteousness. Hear, O ravines, foundations of the earth, that the Lord has a judgment; and again, Hear, O heaven, and give ear, O earth, that the Lord has spoken. And often he says to them themselves, My people, what have I done to you, or in what have I wronged you? And Jeremiah says, What fault did your fathers find in me? And he does this not only against cities and nations, but often also against a single man. He enters into judgment with David through the prophet, and to Jonah, who declined to preach to the Ninevites, he makes his defense through the gourd: If you spared the gourd, shall I not spare Nineveh? And you will find the Scriptures full of many such things. Knowing these things, then, let us worship him, marvel at him, serve him, as far as we are able; for as he is worthy, we are not able. Let us take care for the present life, and be persuaded that God is present, and that providence governs all things, and that after these things it is possible for those who have departed to obtain the promised good things; which may we all obtain, by the grace of Christ, to whom be glory unto the ages of ages. Amen.

On Fate and Providence, Discourse 5. There is truly no evil doctrine, beloved, so full of incurable rot, as the doctrine of fate and birth. For besides implanting a blasphemous, impious, and pernicious opinion in the souls of those deceived, and persuading them to say such things about God as no one would say even about demons, it also confuses our life, filling it with every kind of uproar and great confusion; and whatever has been brought in by God and by nature, and through prophets and holy men, for teaching and correction, it overturns and destroys, and shows to be superfluous. And it does the same as if someone, when a body is sick and in need of medicines, with physicians present and preparing the remedy, should persuade it to make use of none of these, nor to be rid of the disease, but to yield itself to neglect and laziness and await the most pitiable destruction. Or does not fate say these things? Let no one give any useful advice, let no one listen to another giving advice; in vain are laws and judges, in vain rebukes and admonitions, in vain fear of punishments, in vain honors and prizes and rewards for those who do right. Neither if you are zealous will there be any benefit, nor if you are negligent will there be any harm. Let not a child go to school, nor a man when grown listen to laws, nor pay heed to useful counsels and admonitions. What will toil be able to bring? Like a ship without ballast, bereft of sailors and pilots, having given the rudder of its mind to the surge of the storm, so let it be carried along.

Tell me, do you wish us to be persuaded, and to do nothing that contributes to the salvation of our life? For now let the matters of the soul be set aside; let us discuss the things concerning the present life. We are persuaded by fate when it says these things, and we shall neither punish servants who sin, nor correct those corrupted by licentiousness, nor bring wrongdoers to court, nor listen to the laws? I could wish that this might happen even for a short time, so that you might be able to see in action this destructive and harmful teacher of evils. For if what is fated must by all means come to pass, whether people are diligent or asleep, let no farmer yoke his oxen, nor drag the plough, nor cut a furrow, nor cast seeds, nor watch for the suitable season of the year, nor endure frost and continuous rain and hardship and toils through the measured year; let him not sharpen the sickle, nor reap the field, nor thresh the ears of grain, nor plant, nor tend plants, but simply throw away all the care of farming, sit at home, and sleep all the time. Surely if it is fated and spun for him, good things will come to his house of their own accord; but if Clotho turns her spindle the opposite way, even if he toils ten thousand times, there will be no end to his toils and sweats. For what reason, then, do you not advise doing these things, if indeed you truly believe in fate? For what reason do you not advise it, so that you may truly learn by experience the fine things of fate? Do you wish me to show you what is truly fated?

Destroy agriculture, abolish seafaring, eliminate all the crafts that sustain life, and let no builder, no bronze-smith, no weaver, nor anyone else whose work contributes to our life practice his craft, and then you will clearly see what sort of rewards fate brings, then you will clearly perceive it, then you will see its inflexibility. And why do I speak of crafts, which hold our life together? Let the crafts exist, and do not abolish a single one, but while all remain in their own order, let each individual take no thought for his own affairs, nor care for the things of his household, but let him entrust to fate the management of all his affairs, and then he will know its usefulness, when, being racked and scourged, he is demanded for his taxes, and having nothing, he flees to its defense, and no one pays him any heed. How long are we children in our minds? Until when shall we not stop babbling nonsense? Until when shall we not recognize the common Master? If fate makes men wicked and good, for what reason do you admonish your child, for what reason do you counsel him? All is in vain and to no purpose. If it makes men rich and poor, do not send him to schools, do not procure money, do not do a single thing that could increase his property, but entrust his affairs to fate. But you cannot endure it. Do you see how, disbelieving its power in lesser matters, you trust it in greater? For if there really is fate, let your child associate with wicked men and be corrupted with the corrupt; surely it is fated and spun for him, and it is of use to you.

For truly, he says, truly it is so. For what reason, then, do you cause trouble both for yourself and for another? And why do I speak of children, when you would not even endure to do this in the case of slaves, but you both threaten and frighten them, and you set every means in motion so that your slave may become good, and you do not trust in his nature? And for what reason do you punish one who has become bad? For the fault was not his own, but that of the nature that impelled him. And for what reason do you praise one who has become good? For the right action was not his own, but that of his nature—or rather, no one will be either good or bad. For one who does neither of these things of himself, but receives the necessity from elsewhere, will be neither the one nor the other. For what reason, then, do we praise men? For what reason do we blame them? For what reason do we invoke curses, for what reason do we join in prayer for others? Do you see into how great an irrationality the doctrine of fate has led us? No one is temperate, no one is intemperate, no one is greedy, no one is just; both virtue and vice have been abolished, and we have been brought into this present life in vain—or rather, not in vain, but even to our harm.

For how is it not absurd that a person is pushed into vice by the necessity of birth, and then again by this very force pays the ultimate penalty, when he ought to be pitied, ought to be lamented—and yet we are hated and punished, when he ought to be honored? The one who is wronged and has suffered violence ought not to be punished but honored; yet we are both wronged and endure punishment. What could be more irrational than this—that for the very things through which, suffering ill, we were pushed toward vice, for these we also pay the penalty? Fate made a man a murderer, and it demands his soul in return for his having obeyed it. What doctrine could be more harmful than this? It is as if someone, having pushed a man into a pit and caught hold of the one hurled down, should then demand punishment from him on that account; or as if someone, having handed a man over to a barbarian mistress to be tortured and to be surrounded by countless evils, should demand punishment from the one handed over for his slavery and captivity. Tell me, could anything be more irrational than this, or more wretched than this race? If these things are so, and enemies and foes know how to pardon their own enemies whenever, unwilling and not wishing it, they do something of the harshest sort to them—yet Fate will not know pardon for its subjects, who obey in all things, or rather who are compelled, but demands justice from them for the very things it compelled them to do—tell me, what dung-heap, what labyrinth, what tempest will imitate this confusion? Was one mode of injustice not enough for me—that, having sinned in nothing, I have been cast into vice, and that another, having accomplished nothing good, becomes good and enjoys honor—

Is this injustice alone not enough—that it simply and irrationally made me bad and that man good—but it adds another, and does not even imitate the judicial discernment of humans? But humans are so humane and gentle as to distinguish involuntary acts from voluntary ones; whereas the one administering human affairs, some Erinys and evil spirit, confuses everything thus. If, then, there is no God who oversees these things, the argument is refuted from another angle. For it is not possible, amid such great order, that providence does not exist. Yet if there is no God, how did these things come together at all? And if there is, how does he overlook these things? For if he himself made them, see the impiety, and the excess of the blasphemy; but if he did not make them, yet overlooks them when they have occurred, again the charge is no less than the former. Do you see how the devil is hemmed in from every side, driving humans into madness against the Master? Do you want to persuade me that you are persuaded by fate, and you think it is some doctrine? Do not accuse the woman who is being seduced, nor be filled with anger, nor bring the adulterer to a judge's tribunal. If you see a wall being broken through, do not lay hold of the one breaking through, nor demand justice; for he did this not willingly, as you say. Neglect all your own affairs; for the things of fate will certainly come to you; throw away as much gold as you have; neglect houses, marketplaces, slaves; nothing of fate's negligence will be harmed by your negligence. But you will not endure any of these things, as one persuaded in deed that you have condemned the doctrines of fate. For what reason, then, do you put it forward in the case of sins, when you have condemned it everywhere?

Do you see that this doctrine has been introduced from nowhere else, but from laziness, and negligence, and from being relaxed toward the very labors that are for the sake of virtue? If there is birth, there is no judgment; if there is birth, there is no faith; if there is birth, there is no God; if there is birth, there is no virtue, there is no vice; if there is birth, all things are in vain, and we both do and suffer all things at random and to no purpose; there is no praise, there is no blame, there is no shame, there is no disgrace, there are no laws, there are no courts of justice. Whence, then, says he, is this man rich, whence is another poor? In the first place, even if we did not know the reasons, we ought to remain in ignorance, and not take up another wicked doctrine. For it is better to be ignorant well than to know badly; for the one has no accusation, but the other is deprived of forgiveness. Nevertheless, even now it has become clear to us through the grace of God, whence the one is rich and the other poor: for either he received an inheritance from his father, or he engaged in trade and commerce, or he seized and violently took the property of others, or he made a wealthy marriage, or through farming, or a craft, or some other such thing. And

There are many ways of becoming rich, some just and some unjust. So too with being poor: for a person is either treated spitefully, or slandered, or defrauded, or has squandered his money, or lives in idleness, or in folly, or in some other way; for there are many ways of becoming poor. And for what reason, he says, does a certain man who keeps prostitutes and parasites and flatterers, and who meddles spitefully in other people's affairs, and who lives this soft and dissolute life, have his money flowing in as if from springs; while another man, living with fairness and self-control and justice and the other virtues, does not even have the necessary sustenance? Because the one is good and chooses the laborious life of virtue, while the other is wicked and has taken up the flowing and dissolute path of vice. For what reason, then, does the wicked man grow rich, while the good man is poor? So that the latter may receive a greater crown, if he endures and bears up with patience, and the former a greater punishment and retribution, if he does not change and become better and come to know his own Master. For the indulgences given by God weigh more heavily upon those who remain wicked; and the abundance that comes from him becomes an addition to the accusation against those who do not use it as they ought. Thus, then, the afflictions and hardships of the good are an addition of crowns, even if they fall into sin. At any rate, there is a measure of pardon; for sins are not judged in the same way, but the rich man is judged one way and the poor man another: the one with pardon, the other without pardon.

For example, let a man be a thief and yet ambitious for honor, rich and yet poor: the one, even if his refuge is a cold one, nevertheless has some refuge—the compulsion that comes from poverty—while the other has not even one respectable or reasonable refuge. So that by as much as the poor man is diminished in the present life, by so much does he have the advantage in the life to come in good deeds, and the rich man in sins. Do not, then, suppose that the poor man is wronged, nor that the rich man has the greater share. Just as also in the case of evils, as many as have paid the penalty here either have washed it all away, or pay a lesser punishment there, as having undergone the penalty here for great sufferings; so too in the case of goods, those who enjoy honor here and remain wicked have that honor as provisions for punishment. Observe, then, how God everywhere reproaches the wicked with the honors they receive here: I gave you all that belonged to your lord; and again, to the priests in the case of Eli, the honor; and elsewhere, I gave to you from among your young men for prophets, and from among your sons for sanctification; and everywhere he adds the things in the wilderness. So that when you see the rich man doing wrong, taking advantage, plundering, groan for him especially for this reason, because being rich he does these things; for he gives a greater punishment. When you see a poor man taking great forethought for justice, marvel at him especially for this reason, that with poverty he is such a man. If these things are thoroughly examined in you, you will never be disturbed by the things that happen, if you look to the things to come, if you consider the present things to be nothing, if you always hope for those things, if you keep yourself away from these.

May we obtain all good things, by the grace of Christ. Amen. ON FATE, OR AGAINST GLUTTONY. Discourse 6. "Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die," many among the Jews were saying in the time of the prophets. But that Jews should say these things—whose god is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame—is no wonder. But that after the grace, and the contempt of present things, and such great perfection and exactness, there should still be some even now, not saying it in words but crying out the very same thing through their deeds—of how great a condemnation would this be worthy? For there are, there truly are, those who think they have been brought into this life for this purpose: that after living in luxury, bursting their belly, and fattening the body, they might depart thus, preparing a more abundant table for the worm from their own flesh. And would that this alone were the terrible thing—that they squander present things in vain and to no purpose and for nothing needful. And yet not even this is free from charges and condemnation.

For when we spend the money given to us by God for the nourishment of the body, and for the relief of the needy, upon debauchery and insolence and the utmost idleness, this most wicked expenditure will not be unaccountable for us, but we shall certainly give an account; and what was said about the five talents, and the two, and the one, can be said also concerning money and all other things. What then I was saying, that even if we had come into being at random and in vain, not even so would such conduct as this be unaccountable for us; but now, apart from this, another judgment also awaits us. For the man who lives in luxury, and studies drunkenness, and feeds parasites and flatterers, and bursts with meat-eating and wine-drinking, must often sin both unwillingly and willingly, both during the time of this present place and after his departure from there. For just as a ship that has taken on a greater quantity of cargo than its own proper measure, weighed down by the size of the load, sinks beneath the water, so too the soul, and the nature of our body, having received food beyond its own capacity, becomes waterlogged, and unable to bear the weight of what has been laid upon it, is plunged into the sea of destruction, and destroys along with all the pilot, and the sailors, and the bow-officer, and the passengers, and the cargo itself with them all. Just as, then, in the case of ships in such a condition, neither the calm of the sea, nor the skill of the pilot, nor the number of sailors, nor the fitness of the equipment, nor the favorable season of the year, nor anything else benefits the ship thus storm-tossed; so also it is with those who live in luxury.

Neither a multitude of reasonings, nor teaching and exhortation, nor admonitions and counsels, nor anything else—neither fear of things to come, nor shame, nor reproach of things present, nor anything else—is able to save a soul so storm-tossed; but excess prevails over all, carrying the one sick with such things down to the depths, willing or unwilling, and working a grievous shipwreck, from which it is not easy even to recover. And such a person becomes useless not only with regard to things to come and the accounts there, but also with regard to the present life, and fit for nothing, but everywhere ridiculous, both in public and in private affairs; and if anything urgent must be done, he will be found having nothing provident, nothing economical, being easily overcome by all his enemies, useless to all his friends and kin. Such a person is not only easily assailed in dangers and crises, and unbearable in calm and security, but even in difficulties he will be useless in each of the things that befall him because of his excess. For there—I mean in times of foul weather—cowardice, and unmanliness, and immoderate fear, and much irresolution will possess him; but here—boldness, and slackness, and licentiousness, excess and arrogance, and boastfulness—make him more difficult than the former in the eyes of all.

For not only do the bodies of those who are so disposed become unsightly, flabby, moist, and full of unbearable foulness from every side, but the soul also is far more unsightly than the body, having received from luxury diseases much greater than those of the body. For just as the body does not discharge only its natural excesses, but much more and from every side—for eyes, nostrils, and mouths, when the parts within are weighed down by the flood that has arisen, are filled with the most worthless moisture and corruption, and the very nature of the flesh, having become more relaxed than its natural proportion, as if filled with mire and unclean filth, becomes at once foul-smelling and useless, and unfit for every good work. For the earth itself also, when tyrannized by such greed and having lost its own innate heat, loses along with it its strength, and is fit neither for cultivation nor for its own offspring. From this, those who live in continual luxury are caught by harsh and incurable diseases; for they become liable to tremors, paralysis, consumption, catarrhs, gout, and pains of the hands, and many other things, as the sons of physicians say. Thus, even if there were no Gehenna, nor punishment, nor final condemnation from God, nor blame among men, nor the untimely expense, nor the countless other things that arise from luxury, would this alone not be sufficient to turn all away? For such tables will be no better than poisonous drugs, or rather, to speak the truth, far worse.

For those things [i.e., other afflictions] straightway carried off the one who received them, and brought on death without sensation, so as not even by this very thing to grieve the one who died; but these [pleasures] bring upon those who value them highly a life harder than ten thousand deaths—a life, I said, not merely pitiable but also shameful and ridiculous. For other sufferings have many who grieve with them, but all that has come from luxury and drunkenness does not permit even those who see it, though they wish it, to grieve together with those subdued by them; rather, the excess of the evil bends one toward pity, but the nature of the disease provokes the one who knows. Wherefore we would experience a kind of intermediate feeling, neither pitying them—for the cause of their terrors does not permit it—nor being angry—for the magnitude of their terrors does not allow it—but the stance is between accusation and pardon. For they were not maltreated by nature as those others were, nor were they plotted against by men, but they themselves became the craftsmen of these diseases for themselves, willingly hurling themselves into the abyss of evils. Just as, then, we do not greatly pity those who fasten nooses, and those who fling themselves down cliffs, and those who destroy themselves through the midst of swords, so neither these. And yet, if pardon is to be obtained, those others would obtain it rather than these, even if they themselves would be altogether unpardonable.

For those men, hoping for either slanderings, or losses of money, or expected danger, or blows, or watching for some other fear, and snatching themselves away from greater evils, flee for refuge to the consolation of death, rushing to death as to some place of asylum, or hastening and pressing on as to some calm harbor from the expected storms; but these, having nothing of the sort to say, hand themselves over to a life more grievous than countless violent deaths. Timely, then, is it now to speak that saying of the wise man: Who will pity a charmer bitten by a snake, and all those who bring themselves near to wild beasts? For luxury is a wild beast, a fierce and untamed wild beast, and not so does a scorpion or a snake sitting in our inward parts ravage everywhere, as the desire of luxury overturns and destroys all things. For upon those beasts the plotting extends only as far as the body; but this, when it has settled in, destroys the soul together with the body. Therefore let us flee from it, I say to the wise. If it has anything good, let us not endure it, let us not be persuaded; but if what has been said is true, and it is the ruin of all things,

a thing, and the utmost mockery, spare yourselves—the strength of your body, the health of your soul. I do not say to bring yourselves to hardship, unless you wish it; let us do away with what is superfluous, let us cut off what is beyond need. For what excuse do we have, when others do not even enjoy what is necessary though they are able, while we go on even beyond need? Let our limit of food be that which does no harm, that which is able to stop the hungry without harm, and let us seek nothing further; or rather, if one must say something wonderful, and contrary to the opinion of the many, yet true, even if we seek pleasure, we shall find it in self-sufficiency rather than in luxury. Hear how this pleasure is greater than that one and more easily obtained. For the latter can no longer even hold together, nor does it find a nature of foods suited to it; but the former can even be constituted from opposites. Who says this? The one who more than all others has enjoyed it. For to a needy soul, he says, even bitter things appear sweet; a soul filled with honeycombs mocks them. Do you see how it is easy for that one to be constituted both from few things and from all things, but for this one in no way? For if we do not admit honeycombs, what would then be pleasant to us? If the sweetest of all things could not provide pleasure, what will be able to produce pleasure? So that if we seek pleasure, we shall find it here rather.

How then is it not the utmost folly to flee the table that has pleasure and health and all good things and is beloved of God, and to prepare another table full of countless misfortunes, unpleasant and painful and disease-bringing, and—the hardest thing of all—provoking our God? For if the widow who lives in luxury is dead while she lives, what should we say about men? If in the Old Testament this is forbidden with great strictness, and the prophet has employed great vehemence against those who live in luxury—and yet he has named a kind of luxury not very expensive nor truly delicate: Those who eat lambs from the flocks and calves from the stall, who drink the strained wine and anoint themselves with the finest ointments, who sleep on ivory beds and sprawl on their couches—if these things are worthy of accusation, when everything was fleshly and there was no word of heaven, when the Jewish things were a training-ground, what should we say about the softness of today? For if eating lambs and suckling calves condemns those who live a loose and superfluous life, what should we say about those who search out the recesses of the sea and the ends of the earth, and gather for themselves from everywhere hunters of every kind of bird and fish? If those who drink strained wine are blamed, what would you say to those who undertake sea voyages for the sake of wine and set everything in motion so that no kind of vine escapes them, as if they were about to give an account, or to be condemned for the last things, unless they are filled with every kind of wine?

If it is worthy of accusation to have used a couch of ivory, those who wrap much silver around them—or rather forge not only couches but already footstools and basins and pots and chamber pots from silver alone—of what forgiveness would they be deemed worthy? What, small or great, will they be able to say in that reckoning? And I add to these the most grievous thing of all, that these things have been gathered from the misfortunes of others. And yet the prophet did not set this down, but only condemned luxury. But when a cause more grievous than luxury is also present, who will rescue those who do such things from the final punishment? What Noah will stand by them, what Job, what Daniel? There is no one. But concerning these it can be said: My wrath shall be kindled like smoke. For it is not possible, I entreat you, to be truly filled with the utmost wrath and indignation, and to burst asunder, when one man does not even enjoy necessary food, while you forge so much silver idly and in vain, for no need—no, not even for display? For not even for this very purpose will it be useful to you, but it will turn out the opposite. For you do this so as to become conspicuous and notable, but the opposite happens. For you are not conspicuous and notable, but for cruelty and greed and the worst evils all men denounce you.

For how great is the envy, how great the malice, how great the hatred from all, how great the desire for change in all! For I set aside the blasphemies against God that such riches give birth to—although this is more grievous than all; and, before this, whatever you may name, you will find each one worse than the other. But not so the moderate and measured table that is ours, which no prophet mocks, no man censures, no God blames, no fire punishes, no one turns away from, no one hates, no one envies, but God accepts, angels share in, men praise, and heaven receives. These are the tables that received angels; to these Christ comes, not to those. Such were the tables of the prophets, such those of the apostles, such those of the righteous. But the tables of tyrants and of those who grow wickedly rich on earth, having dancers and the rest of those who live for the ruin of life—robbers, sorcerers, and tomb-robbers—are those. When you set such a table, the angel leaps away, God is provoked, the prince of demons rejoices, and they turn away, and hate, and waste away—not only enemies, but even those who seem to be favorably disposed, consumed more by envy than enjoying what is set before them. But when one sets that table—the temperate, the measured, the one having no inflammation—it is both sweetest and gentlest to all friends, and to God, and to angels, and to men; for the Only-begotten of God comes to it. For just as he flees arrogance, and every high-minded man, and turmoil—

Thus he is a friend to the humble, and is always present with them, and fences them about on every side, and walls them in from all directions. But when Christ is present, there is no need to seek anything else. Knowing these things, therefore, beloved, let us flee from those things and pursue these, so that we may obtain both the present and the future good things, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.