De perfecta caritate

Of John Chrysostom, On Perfect Love, and on the Fitting Recompense of Works, and on Compunction. 1. Every good action is a fruit of love; therefore there is much discourse concerning it, Christ saying, "By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another," and Paul crying out, "You owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another." He did not speak simply, but as those who owe to one another. For just as we always owe food to the body, and we always render it—for such a debt extends throughout our whole life—so also he teaches us to act with regard to love; or rather, much more so, inasmuch as it leads to eternal life and abides with those who possess it. For, he says, these three remain: faith, hope, love; and love is greater than these. Not only through words, but also through deeds we are taught this love. And first, through the manner of our construction. For God, having fashioned one man, commanded all to come from him, so that we might all consider one another as one, and strive to live in love with one another. Then, also, through the intermingling of transactions, he wisely contrived for us mutual affection; and how, listen. Having filled the world with many goods, he gave to each region again a particular suitability of fruits, so that, through the necessity of need, going to one another, sharing our surpluses, and receiving what we lack, we might love our kindred. This he has also done in the case of each individual human being.

For He has not given all knowledge to all, but to one the art of medicine, to another that of building, and to another something else, so that needing one another, we may love one another. And in spiritual matters too, one might see the same thing happening, as Paul says: to one is given a word of wisdom, to another a word of knowledge, to another prophecy, to another gifts of healing, to another kinds of tongues, to another interpretation of tongues. But nothing is higher than love; therefore He set it before all, speaking thus: Even if I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a clanging brass or a clashing cymbal; and if I have prophecy, and know all mysteries, and if I have faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And He did not stop even at these, but declares that even death for piety has no profit if love is not present. Not in vain has He said so much about it; for He knew, He clearly knew, as a cultivator of the commandments of God, that when this is firmly rooted, the fruit of all good things sprouts. For the words, You shall not commit adultery, you shall not kill, you shall not steal, you shall not bear false witness, and any other commandment, are summed up in this saying: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. And why need we speak of the small things, while remaining silent about the great?

Through love the beloved Son of God came down to us, and became a tent-mate and table-companion of men, in order to destroy the polytheistic error and proclaim the true knowledge of God, and to teach men love for one another, as John bears witness, saying: "Thus God loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish, but have eternal life." Inflamed by this love, Paul uttered that heavenly cry, "What will separate us from the love of Christ?" saying: "Affliction, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or the sword?" And despising these as trivial, he set down things far greater than these; for he says: "Neither death, nor life, nor present things, nor future things, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." Hence nothing could separate that blessed man, burning with love—not heaven, not earth, not sea, not the palaces in the heavens, not the punishments in Hades; for he overlooked all for the sake of Christ. And if we examine the other saints, we shall find that all pleased God through love.

Love shows you your neighbor as yourself, and teaches you to rejoice in his good things as in your own, and to bear his faults as you bear your own. Love makes many into one body, and fashions their souls into vessels of the Holy Spirit; for the Spirit of peace will rest not upon those divided from one another, but upon those united in soul. Love makes everyone’s possessions common to all, as the book of Acts says: The multitude of the believers had one heart and one soul; and no one called anything his own, but all things were common to them; and distribution was made to each according to need. What wall so unbreachable, fortified by the harmony of great stones, becomes impregnable against the assaults of enemies as the company of those who love one another and are bound together in concord? It even repels the attacks of the devil himself; and this is fitting. For those who array themselves with one another against him, and do not stand with him against one another, become invincible to his machinations, raising up the glorious trophies of love. And just as the strings of a lyre, though many, incline toward a single harmony and sound a most pleasant melody, so those blended into one mind strike up the sweet-sounding note of love. Therefore Paul advises to think the same, to speak the same, and to consider one another as superior to oneself, so that love may not be dissolved by ambition, but by yielding honor to one another, they may live in concord. And again he says:

Through love you serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, in this: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." The one who loves does not wish only to command, but also to be commanded; and he rejoices more in being commanded than in commanding. The one who loves wishes rather to bestow a favor than to receive one; for he wants to have his friend as a debtor, rather than to be indebted to him himself. The one who loves both wishes to bestow a favor on the beloved, and does not wish to seem to bestow a favor; and he wishes to initiate a benefaction, and not to seem to initiate a benefaction. Perhaps some do not understand what has been said; therefore I will make it clear through an example. The philanthropic Master was about to bestow His Son for our sake; but in order not to seem to bestow a favor, but to repay a debt, He commanded Abraham to give his son, so that by doing this himself, He might be found not as one giving a favor, but as one repaying a debt, because of the surpassing wealth of His goodness. I know that what has been said seems strange to many. The reason is that I am speaking about a matter that now dwells in heaven. For just as if I were speaking about some plant that grows in India, of which no one has had experience, the argument would not be able to present it, even if I said countless things about it; so also now, whatever I say, I will speak in vain; for some do not understand what is said. For this plant, as I said, is planted in heaven. But if we wish, it is possible for it to be planted also among us. For this reason we were taught to say to the Father in heaven: "Let your will be done in heaven and on earth.

3. Let us not, therefore, consider it impossible to acquire such a good. For it is possible, truly possible, if we are willing to be sober; and not only this, but also to achieve every virtue. For we are governed by free choice, and we are not subject to the necessity of fate, as some hold, being defined in willing and not willing, and both good and evil are placed before us. For this reason God both promised a kingdom and threatened punishment. He would not have done so for those bound by necessity; for each of these is a recompense for things that come from deliberate choice. He would not have established laws, he would not have given exhortations, if we were held by the bonds of fate. But because we are free, and masters of our own choice, and become base from laziness and good from diligence, for this reason he devised these remedies, correcting us by fear of punishment and expectation of the kingdom, and teaching us to philosophize. Not only from these things, but also from what we ourselves do, it is clear that neither fate, nor chance, nor nativity, nor the course of the stars governs our affairs. For if everything that happens depends on that source and not on human choice, why do you flog the servant who has stolen? Why do you drag your adulterous wife to court? Why are you ashamed when doing shameful things? Why do you not even bear words of reproach, but if someone calls you an adulterer, or a fornicator, or a drunkard, or something of the sort, you call the matter an insult? For if sinning were not of your own will, neither would the deed be a charge, nor the word an insult.

Now, both by the fact that you do not forgive those who sin, and by the fact that you yourself are ashamed when you do evil and are eager to conceal it, and by the fact that you consider those who reproach you for these things to be insolent—through all these you confess that our affairs are not bound by necessity, but are honored with the freedom of choice. For we know how to forgive those who are constrained by necessity. If someone, troubled by a demon, should tear our garment or inflict blows upon us, we not only do not punish him, but we even pity and forgive him. Why is that? Because it was not the freedom of choice, but the violence of the demon that accomplished these things. So if other sins also came from the necessity of fate, we would forgive them. But since we know that it is not a matter of necessity, for this reason we do not forgive—neither masters their servants, nor husbands their wives, nor wives their husbands, nor fathers their children, nor teachers their students, nor rulers their subjects—but we become harsh examiners and punishers of what has been dared, and we resort to courts, and we subject them to blows, and we employ reproaches, and we do everything to free them from their evils. And for our children, we set over them tutors, and send them to teachers, and add threats, and apply whips, and bring forward many other aids, so that they may become good. What need, then, of toils and sweats for the attainment of virtue? For if it is fated for someone to become good, such a person, even sleeping and snoring, will be good. Or rather, it is not even possible to call such a person good, the one who becomes so by necessity.

What need is there of toils and sweats for the avoidance of evil? For if it is fated for someone to become evil, even if he endures countless hardships, he will be evil; rather, one cannot even call such a person evil, since he is driven to this by necessity. For just as with a demoniac, even if he reviles or strikes—I use the same example again—we will not call him an insolent man; for we do not attribute the reviling to him, but to the compulsion of the demon; so too with the evil man, if he is driven to this by fate, let us not call him evil, just as we do not call the good man good. For if this were granted, everything among us would be thrown into confusion, and there would be neither virtue nor vice, nor arts, nor laws, nor anything else of the sort. Why then do we take great pains when we are ill, and spend money, and call physicians, and apply remedies, and restrain the stomach, and curb desire? For if both health and sickness depend on fate, then the expenditure of money is superfluous, the entrance of physicians is superfluous, the strictness of regimen for the sick is superfluous. But as it is, we show, among other things and also from these, that none of these is superfluous. So the myth of fate is done away with; for our affairs are subject to no necessity; rather, everything, as I said, is honored with the freedom of choice.

Knowing these things, then, beloved, and many more besides—for there are many other things to say about these matters, but for the more intelligent these suffice—let us flee evil, let us choose virtue, so that we may show through our deeds that we have free will in our judgment concerning what seems good, so that we may not be put to shame on the day of the revelation of our works. For all of us must appear before the tribunal of Christ, as Paul says, so that each may receive according to what he has done, whether good or evil. Let us, I beg, take that judgment seat to heart, and let us consider it now as present, and the judge seated, and all things uncovered and brought into the open. For we must not simply stand there, but be revealed. Have you not blushed? Have you not shuddered? Do we not often choose to die rather than have a hidden fault of ours revealed before respected friends? How then shall we be disposed then, when all our sins are revealed before all angels and all men, and stand before our eyes? For I will convict you, he says, and set your sins before your face. If even now, when the thing is not yet present, but given hypothetically and sketched in words, we are destroyed by our conscience, what shall we do when it arrives, when the whole world is present, when angels and archangels, when principalities and powers, when continuous and successive trumpets sound, and the righteous are snatched up on clouds, and there is much weeping of the sinners? What fear will then seize those who remain on the earth?

For, it is said, one is seized, and one is let go; one is taken in, and one is left behind. What will be the soul of those, when they see some being led away with great honor, but themselves being dismissed with great shame? It is not possible, believe me, to describe the suffering in words. Have you ever seen those being led away to death? What do you think their soul is like as they walk the road as far as the gate? What would they not have chosen to do and to suffer, in order to be rid of that darkness? I have heard many say, those who were recalled by royal clemency after being led away, that they did not even see people as people, their soul being so disturbed and stricken. And why do I speak of those being led away? A crowd stands around then, most of them not knowing them. If someone had then examined the soul of each one, no one is so cruel, no one so bold, no one so noble, that he would not have found it fallen and relaxed by fear and despondency. But if, when others are being put to death, those who have nothing in common with them are so affected, when we ourselves fall into greater things, what will we be, being sent away from that ineffable joy, and being handed over to eternal punishment? For even if there were no hell, to be thrust away from such splendor, and to depart in dishonor, what a punishment is that? For even now, when a king enters, many watching, and considering their own poverty, do not take as much pleasure from the sight as they take despondency from having no share in the things around the king, nor being near the ruler.

they endure, what will it be then? Or do you consider it a small punishment not to be counted in that chorus? Not to be deemed worthy of that ineffable glory? To be cast far and wide away from that festival and those unspeakable goods? And when there is darkness, and gnashing of teeth, and unbreakable bonds, and an endless worm, and unquenchable fire, and oppression and narrowness, and tongues being fried, like that of the rich man, and we lament, and no one hears, and we groan, and we gnash our teeth from the pains, and no one pays attention, and we look everywhere, and nowhere is there anyone to comfort us: where shall we place those who are in these conditions? And what is more wretched than those souls? What is more pitiable? 5. But if, when entering a prison, we see some squalid, others bound in iron chains, others shut up in darkness, and we are broken, we shudder, we do everything to avoid falling into such necessity and oppression: when we are led away bound into those very torture chambers of Gehenna, what shall we be? What shall we do? For those bonds are not of iron, but of fire that is never extinguished, nor are those set over us of a kind that can be appeased, whom it is sometimes possible to mollify, but they are fearful and pitiless angels, who are fiercely angry because we insulted the Master. It is not, as here, possible to see some bringing silver, others food, others words of consolation, and to obtain comfort, but there everything is unforgiving.

Even if it be Noah, even if Job, even if Daniel, they do not dare to stand by and stretch out a hand when they see their own being punished. For the natural sympathy is then done away with. Since there are found righteous fathers of sinful children, and good children of wicked parents—for evils are not of nature but of choice—so that their joy may be pure, and that those who enjoy those goods may not be broken by the compulsion of sympathy, that sympathy is then extinguished, and they themselves join the Master in indignation against their own flesh and blood. For if even now some, when they see their children are base, disown them and cut them off from kinship, much more will this happen at the judgment. Therefore let no one hope for anything good without having done good, even if he has countless righteous ancestors. For each will receive, it says, through the body, according to what he has done, whether good or evil. Let us listen, I beg, and be prudent. If you have a fire of evil desire, think of that punishment’s fire, and this is quenched and gone. If you wish to utter something improper, think of the gnashing of teeth, and fear will be a bridle for you. If you wish to seize something, hear the judge saying, “Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the outer darkness,” and you will cast out that desire. If you are harsh and merciless, remember those virgins who, because their lamps went out for lack of oil, fell from the bridal chamber, and you will quickly become humane.

If you desire to be drunk and to live in luxury, listen to the rich man saying, "Send Lazarus, so that he might cool my roasting tongue with the tip of his finger," and, not obtaining this request, he quickly desists from the passion. And all other things you will set right by this method, for God has commanded nothing burdensome. Whence, then, do the commandments appear burdensome? From our own indolence. For just as, if we are diligent, even things that seem heavy will be light and easy, so, if we are indolent, even things that are bearable will appear difficult to us. Having considered all this, let us not count the luxurious as blessed, but let us consider their end. For here there is dung and obesity, there worm and fire. Let us not count the plunderers, but what their end is. Here there are cares and toils, there unbreakable bonds and outer darkness. Let us not count those who love glory, but what their end is. Here there is slavery and irony, there great loss and being perpetually set on fire. If we thus converse with ourselves, and constantly chant these and similar things to our evil desires, we will quickly both escape vice and achieve virtue, and we will quench the love of present things and kindle that of future things. For what is stable in present things, or what is strange and paradoxical, that we expend all our zeal upon them? Do we not always see the same things revolving, such as day and night, night and day, winter and summer, summer and winter, and nothing more? Let us therefore kindle the desire for future goods. For great glory is laid up for the righteous, and it is not possible to represent it in speech.

For after the resurrection, having received their bodies incorruptible, they are glorified together and reign together with Christ. How great this is, we shall learn from this: rather, we shall not learn it clearly from anywhere; but, being led up from the goods among us, let us at least take some small notion, and I will try, as best I can, to set forth what has been said. Tell me, if someone, when you were old and living in poverty, promised suddenly to make you young, and to bring you to the very prime of life, and to render you exceedingly strong and beautiful beyond all, and to give you a kingdom of the whole earth for a thousand years, a kingdom enjoying the deepest peace, what would you not choose to do and to suffer for the sake of this prospect? Behold then, Christ promises not these things, but far greater than these. For the difference between corruption and incorruption is not as great as that between old age and youth; nor is the difference between present glory and future glory as great as that between a kingdom and poverty; but it is as great as that between dreams and reality. Rather, I have said nothing yet; for no speech is sufficient to set forth the magnitude of the difference between what will be and what is now. And as for time, it is not even possible to conceive of a difference. For how could one compare a life that has no end with present things? And as for peace, the difference is as great as that between peace and war; and as for corruption and incorruption, as great as that between a clay clod and a pure pearl. Rather, whatever one might say, nothing will be able to set it forth.

For even if I compare the beauty of the bodies of that time to the light of the sun's ray, even if to the most brilliant lightning, I will still say nothing worthy of that splendor. For these things, how much money and how many bodies is it not worth to give up? Or rather, how many souls is it not worth to give up? But now, if someone were to lead you into a palace, and arrange for the king to converse with you in the presence of all, and make you his table-companion and his intimate, you would declare yourself more blessed than all. But when you are about to ascend into heaven, and stand beside the king of all, and shine back at the angels, and enjoy that inaccessible glory, do you hesitate whether you should give up money, when, even if it were necessary to strip off life itself, you ought to leap for joy, exult, and be winged with pleasure? But you, in order to obtain an office that provides you with opportunities for theft—for I do not call such a thing gain—you throw away what you have, and, if need be, borrowing from others, you do not shrink from pawning even your wife and children. Yet when the kingdom of heaven lies before you, an office that has no successor, you hesitate, you shrink back, and you gape after money? And do you not consider that if the parts of heaven near us are so beautiful and delightful, how great must be the highest parts, and the heaven of heaven? But since it is not possible to see these things with bodily eyes, ascend in thought, and standing above this heaven, look up at that heaven which is higher than this one, at the

height that is infinite, into the light that is inaccessible, into the assemblies of the angels, into the ranks of the archangels, into the other incorporeal powers. And again, take hold of the image among us, descending from above, and sketch for me the things concerning the king on earth, for example, men wearing gold, and a pair of white mules adorned with gold, and a chariot studded with jewels, and leaves shaking around it, and dragons formed on silk garments, and shields having golden eyes, and horses wearing gold, and golden bridles. But when we see the king, we no longer see any of these things; for he alone turns us, and the purple robes, and the diadem, and the throne, and the brooch, and the sandals, and the radiance of his countenance. Therefore, having accurately gathered all these things, from these transfer your reasoning again to the things above, and conceive of the fearful day on which Christ arrives. For you will not then see a pair of mules, nor golden chariots, nor dragons and shields, but something full of great awe, and producing such astonishment that even the heavenly powers themselves are struck with amazement; for, it is said, the powers of the heavens will be shaken.

Then the whole heaven is opened, and the only-begotten Son of God descends, not with twenty or a hundred bodyguards, but with thousands and myriads of angels and archangels, and everything will be full of fear and trembling, the earth being rent asunder, and all the human beings who have ever existed, from Adam until that day, rising from the earth and being snatched up, while he appears with such great glory that the sun and the moon hide all their light, outshone by that radiance. But, alas for our great insensibility, that, with such goods expected, we still gape at present things, and do not consider the craftiness of the devil, who through small things deprives us of great ones, and gives us mud in order to snatch away heaven, and shows a shadow in order to cast us out of the truth, and deludes us with dreams—for this is present wealth, so that, when day comes, it shows us to be the poorest of all. Having learned this, beloved, let us flee his deceit, let us flee condemnation with him, so that the judge may not say to us also: "Depart from me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels." 7. But God is philanthropic; this will not happen, someone says. Then is it written in vain? No, he says, but only as a threat, so that we may be prudent. If then we are not prudent, but remain evil, will he not inflict the punishment? Tell me. Then will he not also give the rewards to the good? Yes, he says, for it is fitting for him to bestow benefits even beyond what is deserved. So then, are those things true and certain to happen, but the punishments not certain?

Oh, the great craftiness of the devil! Oh, this inhuman philanthropy! For this reasoning is his, granting a useless favor and making men careless. Since he knows that the fear of punishment, like a bridle, constricts our soul and restrains us from evils, he does everything and contrives everything to tear it out root and branch, so that we may then be carried headlong over the cliffs without fear. How then shall we overcome him? Whatever we say from the Scriptures, those who contradict will say that it was written for the sake of threat. But concerning future things they might say this, even if very impiously; concerning things that have already happened and have had an end, they cannot. Let us then ask them: Have you heard about the flood and that utter destruction? Was that spoken for the sake of threat? Did it not happen and come to pass? Do not the mountains of Armenia bear witness, where the ark was set? Are not its remains preserved there even now for our remembrance? Many said such things then too, and during the hundred years while the ark was being built and the timbers prepared, and while the righteous man cried out, there was no one who believed. But because they did not believe the threat through words, they suffered the punishment through deeds all at once. Then will not he who brought such punishment upon them much more bring it upon us? For the evils now happening are not less than those of that time. For then they made unlawful unions—for it says, the sons of God went in to the daughters of men—but now there is no form of sin that is left undone.

But, if you please, let us also bring the discourse to other forms of punishment, so that from what has happened, the future may be believed. Has any of you ever traveled to Palestine? I think so. Then you bear witness to the truth of what is said. For above Ascalon and Gaza, at the very end of the river Jordan, there was a certain region, large and fertile, vying with the Garden of God; for, it is said, Lot saw the whole surrounding area of the Jordan, and it was watered like the Garden of God. But now this region is more desolate than all deserts. For trees stand there and bear fruit, but the fruit is a reminder of the wrath of God. For pomegranates stand there, having a bright surface and offering good hopes to the ignorant, but when taken in hand and broken open, they show no fruit, but much dust and ash stored within. Such is the land, such are the stones, such is the air itself. Everything is burnt, everything is reduced to ash, being reminders of the past wrath and forewarnings of the future punishment. Are these also mere threats of words? Are these also mere sounds of words? If anyone disbelieves in Gehenna, let him consider Sodom, let him think of Gomorrah, of the punishment that has already occurred and remains until now. This is also what divine Scripture says concerning wisdom: She saved a righteous man, fleeing from the descending fire of the Pentapolis when the impious were being destroyed. She still stands, smoking as a witness to wickedness, a barren land, bearing fruit in its plants at untimely seasons. It is necessary also to state the cause for which they suffered these things.

Their transgression was one—grievous and accursed, yet one. They raged against children, and for this they were consumed by a fiery rain. But now countless offenses, equal and even more severe, occur, and no such conflagration takes place. Why? Because another fire has been prepared, one that is never extinguished. For if He who brought such wrath for a single sin, neither accepting Abraham’s supplication nor being moved by the resident Lot, will spare us when so many evils are committed? It is not so, it is not so. But let us not stop here; let us bring forward others who were punished, so that through more proofs the things said may be confirmed. You all hear of Pharaoh, the king of the Egyptians; therefore you also know the penalty he paid, how he, with his chariots and horses, together with his entire army, was drowned in the Red Sea. And that you may learn the punishments of the Jews, listen to Paul saying: “Let us not commit fornication as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in one day; let us not murmur as some of them murmured, and were destroyed by the destroyer; let us not tempt the Lord as some of them tempted, and were destroyed by serpents.” If even they suffered such things for their sins, what shall we not suffer? But now we suffer nothing terrible, and for this very reason we must especially fear. For we are not being kept from paying the penalty, but to pay a worse one if we do not change. For they did not know of Gehenna, and were handed over to punishments here; but we, whatever we sin, even if nothing painful in the

If we suffer in this present life, in the life to come we will suffer everything. For how could it be reasonable that they, being more childish, suffered such things, while we, who have enjoyed more perfect teachings and commit far worse offenses than they, should escape punishment? Do you wish to hear also the rest of their calamities, how many they suffered in Palestine at the hands of Babylonians, Assyrians, and Macedonians? How many famines, plagues, wars, and captivities they endured under Titus and Vespasian? Read the book of Josephus, which he wrote about the capture of Jerusalem, and you will learn that bitter tragedy. For in addition to the other horrors, they fell into such an extremity of famine that they ate even their belts, their sandals, and things more abominable than these. For necessity drove everything under their teeth, as the aforementioned writer says somewhere. And they did not stop even at these, but they also tasted their own children. How then, since they paid such penalties, shall we, who do worse than these, escape? For if they were punished then, why are we not punished now? Is it not clear even to a blind man that it is because punishment is reserved for us in the future, as I have often said? One must also consider what happens now in life, and we will not disbelieve in Gehenna. For if God is just and impartial, as indeed he is, why do some pay the penalty for murders here, while others do not? Why are some adulterers punished, while others die unpunished? How many tomb-robbers have escaped? How many bandits? How many covetous men? How many plunderers?

If then there is no Gehenna, where will they undergo punishment? Do we persuade those who object that the account concerning it is not a myth? For it is so true that not only we, but also poets and philosophers and mythographers have philosophized about future retribution, and have said that the wicked are punished in Hades. For even if they were unable to speak of these matters with truth, as they are, being moved by reasonings and by echoes from our teachings, nevertheless they grasped some image of judgment. For they speak of certain Cocytuses and rivers of Pyriphlegethon, and the water of Styx, and Tartarus as far distant from the earth as this is from the heaven, and many other modes of punishment; and again of the Elysian plain, and the Isles of the Blessed, and blooming meadows, and abundant fragrance, and a gentle breeze, and choirs dwelling there, clothed in white robes, singing certain hymns, and altogether of a recompense reserved for both the good and the wicked after their departure from here. Let us not, therefore, disbelieve in Gehenna, lest we fall into it; for the one who disbelieves becomes more negligent; and the one who is negligent will certainly go into it. But let us believe without hesitation, and let us discourse about it continually, and we will not quickly sin. For the memory of such words, like a bitter medicine, will be able to wipe away every vice, constantly settling in our soul. Let us therefore use it, so that, having been well purified, we may be deemed worthy to see God, as it is possible for humans to see, and may enjoy the future goods, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Glory to him for ever and ever. Amen.