Eclogae ex diversis homiliis

For do not suppose that because he is not present, he has perished; for even if he happened to be away from home, the name of kinship would not have departed from you along with his body. It is not this child lying here that is your child, but that one who has flown away and hastened up to heaven. When, therefore, you see the eyes closed and the mouth shut and the body motionless, do not think this: "This mouth no longer speaks, these eyes no longer see, these feet no longer walk"; but rather: "This mouth will speak better things, and these eyes will see greater things, and these feet will be lifted up upon the clouds, and this corruptible body will put on immortality, and I shall receive back my son more radiant." Remember the patriarch Abraham, who did not see Isaac die, but what was far bitterer and more painful—he was commanded to slay him himself; and he did not contradict the command, nor was he vexed, nor did he utter anything of this sort: "For—

Did you make me a father for this, so that you might make me a child-killer? It would have been better not to give me the child at all, than after giving him, to take him away again in such a manner. Do you wish to take him? For what reason do you command me to slaughter him and to defile my own right hand? Did you not promise me from this little child to fill the whole world with descendants? How then do you give the fruits while destroying the root? Who has seen these things, who has heard these things? I have been deceived and cheated. He said none of these things, he did not think them, he did not argue with the one commanding, he did not demand an account; but when he heard, Take your beloved son, whom you have loved, Isaac, and offer him to me as a whole burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you, he fulfilled the command with such eagerness that he even did more than what was commanded. For he also concealed it from the woman, and he escaped the notice of the servants, leaving them behind below. Consider, then, how great it was to converse alone with the child, with no one present, when his affections were the more warmed and his love became more intense—what speech will be able to set this forth? He led the child up, bound his feet together, placed him on the wood, and seized the knife, and was about to bring down the blow. How I should say it and in what manner I cannot; only he himself knows who did these things; for no speech will be able to set it forth. How did his hand not grow numb? How was the tension of his sinews not loosened? How did the sight of the beloved child not confound him? And it was possible at once to see him becoming both father and priest, and a sacrifice offered without blood, a whole burnt offering without fire. For he slaughtered his son and did not slaughter him.

He did not slaughter with his hand, but he slaughtered with his readiness; so as to instruct all who came after, that one must prefer the commandments of God to children and nature and all things that exist, and to one's very soul. Consider for me the man's nobility, when he was commanded to slaughter his son, the only-begotten, the beloved, the one given to him beyond all hope—how many reasonings rose up against him; but nevertheless he subjected them all, and they all trembled before him more than guards before a king; and with a single glance he restrained them all, and none of them dared even to murmur, but they stood so orderly that they adorned him rather than feared him. And behold the endurance: nature was cast to the ground with its own weapons, and he stood with his hand raised, not holding a crown, but a sword brighter than any crown; and the assembly of angels applauded, and God from the heavens proclaimed him. What, then, could equal this trophy? For if, when an athlete has won, not a herald from below, but the king from above proclaimed him an Olympian victor, would this not seem to him brighter than the crowns, and would it not have turned the whole theater? When, therefore, not a human king, but God himself, not in such a theater, but in the theater of the whole world, in the assembly of angels and archangels, proclaims him with a bright voice crying from above—where shall we place this holy man, tell me? For if fathers would not easily despise wicked children, but even mourn for them;

When it is a son, and a genuine one, and an only-begotten one, and a beloved one, and he is about to be slaughtered by his own father, who could express the excess of this philosophy? O blessed right hand, what a sword it was deemed worthy of! O wondrous sword, what a right hand it was deemed worthy of! O wondrous sword! For what need was it prepared, and what ministry did it accomplish, and what type did it serve, how was it bloodied, how was it not bloodied? For I do not know what to say, so fearful was the mystery. It did not touch the boy's neck, nor did it pass through that holy throat, nor was it stained red with the blood of a righteous man; or rather, it both touched and passed through and was stained red and was dipped, and was not dipped. Perhaps I seem to you to be beside myself, speaking thus in contradictions. For I am beside myself as I consider the wonder of the righteous man, but I am not speaking contradictions. For the hand of the righteous man fixed it in the boy's throat, but the hand of God did not allow it, even once fixed, to be defiled with the boy's blood. For it was not Abraham alone who held it, but God also; and the one urged it on through his resolve, the other held it back through his voice. Consider: he said, Slaughter, and immediately he was arming himself; he said, Do not slaughter, and immediately he was disarming himself. For he chose not to be called a father, so as to appear a grateful servant; and because he stood apart from his own for God's sake, for this reason God also graciously granted him his own along with these things; and He halts the command at the point of readiness.

And do not tell me only this, that he built an altar and laid the wood, but remember also the voice of the child, and reckon how many snowflakes of thoughts came upon him, armed with fiery spears, and from every side piercing and cutting him through, when he heard the child saying: Father, where is the sheep? For if even now many are broken down, though they are not fathers, what was that man likely to suffer—the one who begot him, the one who reared him, the one in old age, the one who had this one only, the one who saw him, the one who heard him, the one who was about to slay him at once? But none of these things turned that adamant aside, nor shook him, nor did he say: Why do you call father the one who will shortly not be your father? The one who has already lost this honor? But what did he say? God will see for himself a sheep for a whole burnt offering, child. Both call the names of nature: the one, father, and child; the other, and from both sides the war was fiercely stirred up, and great was the surge, and no shipwreck anywhere. But Isaac, when he heard God, no longer said anything, nor did he busy himself further; so understanding was the child, even in the very flower of his age. Were you not all warmed through? Does not each of you embrace the child in his mind and kiss him, and marvel at his understanding, and revere his piety? For even when being bound and laid upon the wood he was not astonished, he did not leap away, he did not condemn his father as mad, but he was bound and lifted up and laid down, and he bore all things in silence like a little lamb.

Rather, he imitated the gentleness of the common Master of all, and kept the pattern. For he was led as a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb before its shearer is silent. And let no one tell me that Abraham did not feel pain, nor endure the things of fathers, nor, wishing to show himself philosophic beyond measure, rob him of the crown of his praises. For if, when we see those caught in the most shameful deeds and having enjoyed this life for a long time, and being unknown, and never having been seen by us, suddenly being led to death in the marketplace, we are contracted and grieve, and often even weep—he who was commanded to sacrifice and burn with his own hands his own son, his genuine, his only-begotten, born beyond hope, after so much time, at the very end of old age, this one still being young—how did he not endure a distress and pain more grievous than every punishment? For if he had been stone, if iron, if adamant itself, would he not have been bent and broken at the hour of the child, at the understanding of the words, at the piety of the soul? For he heard, "God will see for himself a sheep for a whole burnt offering, O child," and he did nothing more; he saw his father binding him, and he did not resist; he was placed on the wood, and he did not leap away; he saw the knife being brought against him, and he was not disturbed. What could be more pious than this soul? Will anyone still dare to say that Abraham suffered nothing from all these things?

For if he was about to sacrifice an enemy and a foe—if it was a wild beast—did he do these things without feeling? It cannot be, it cannot be. This is why I beg and entreat you, O man, whenever you lose a son or a daughter, do not lament so shamefully and beat yourself, but consider that Abraham slaughtered his own son, and neither wept nor let fall a bitter word. And Job grieved, but only as much as is fitting for a father who loves his children; whereas what we do now belongs to enemies and foes. For if, when someone had been carried off to the palace and crowned, you beat yourself and lamented, I would call you not a friend of the one crowned, but an enemy and a foe. But, he says, I do not know where he has gone. Why do you not know, tell me? For whether he lived rightly or otherwise, it is clear where he will go. It is for this reason, he says, that I am crushed—because he departed a sinner. For this very reason, then, one ought to rejoice that his sins were cut short, and he did not add to his wickedness, and to help him as far as possible—not with tears, but with prayers and supplications and almsgivings and offerings. For this has not been devised at random, nor does the one standing at the altar cry out in vain during the dread mysteries, "For all those who have fallen asleep in Christ, and for those who perform their memorials," but these things come about by the ordinance of the Holy Spirit. For if the father's sacrifice purified the children of Job, why do you doubt that, when we offer on behalf of those who have departed, some consolation comes to them?

Therefore let us not simply weep for those who die, but for those who have died in wealth and have devised no comfort from their wealth for their own souls; for those who had the power to wash away their sins and did not wish to; these let us weep, both privately and publicly, all of us, not for one day or a second, but for our whole life, and let us help them as far as we are able; let us devise some help for them, small though it be, yet let us help them. How, and in what way? By praying and urging others to offer prayers on their behalf, and by continually giving to the poor on their behalf. The matter has some comfort in it; for hear God saying, I will shield this city for my sake and for the sake of David my servant. And if the mere remembrance of a righteous man had such power, when works are also done on his behalf, how much more will it not have? Not in vain were these things legislated by the apostles—that at the awesome mysteries there be a remembrance of those who have departed; they know that great gain accrues to them, great benefit. For when the whole people stands, lifting up their hands, the full body of the priesthood, and the awesome sacrifice is set forth, how shall we not prevail upon God, entreating him on their behalf? But this concerns those who have departed in faith; whereas the catechumens are not even deemed worthy of this comfort, but are deprived of every such help, except one kind. What is this? It is possible to give continually to the poor on their behalf, and the matter brings them some consolation. So that it is not death that is evil, but dying badly. Do you wish me to tell your love from what source we fear death?

The love of the kingdom has not wounded us, nor has the longing for things to come set us on fire; otherwise we would have looked down on all present things. For the one who has always feared Gehenna will never fear death. Allow me to say to you now, in due season, brothers: Do not become children in your minds, but be infants in evil. For little children are afraid of masks, but they are not afraid of fire; rather, if they happen to be carried near a lampstand holding a lamp, they recklessly put their hand to the lampstand and the flame; and the mask, which is easy to despise, makes them shudder, but the fire, which is truly fearful, they do not fear. Do you want me to state also another reason for which we fear death? We do not live with exactness, nor do we have a good conscience; since, if this were so, nothing would frighten us—neither death, nor loss of money, nor any other such thing. Grant me, then, confidence concerning the kingdom of heaven, and, if you wish, slaughter me today, and I will be grateful to you for the slaughter, because you send me quickly to those good things. But I fear to die unjustly, he says. What do you say? Tell me: do you fear to die unjustly? But did you wish to die justly? And who is so wretched and miserable that, when it is possible to die unjustly, he would rather choose to die justly? For if one must fear death, one must fear the death that comes upon us justly; since the one who dies unjustly, in this very respect, shares in all the saints. For the majority of those who pleased God underwent an unjust death; and first, Abel. For he had not sinned against his brother,

Nor did he grieve Cain, but because he honored God, for this reason he was slain. And God permitted it: was he loving him or hating him? It is evident that he was loving him, and wishing to make his crown more radiant through this most unjust slaughter. Do you see that it is not dying unjustly that one must fear, but dying in sins? Abel died unjustly; Cain lived groaning and trembling. Which, then, tell me, was the more blessed? The one who ceased in righteousness, or the one who lived in sins? The one who died unjustly, or the one who was justly punished? And what, tell me, is harsher than murder? But it was once able to give birth to righteousness for the one who committed it; and hear how. The Midianites once, wishing to make God at war with the Jews, and expecting by this means to prevail over them, if they should deprive them of the goodwill of the Master, adorned maidens and set them before the camp, and lured them and led them into fornication. Phineas, seeing this, took up a sword and, catching the two in fornication, pierced them both in the very act of sin, not hating those who were slain, but sparing the rest. And what happened was murder, but what was accomplished from it was the salvation of all who were perishing; he killed two and saved countless myriads. And just as physicians, cutting out the festering parts of the limbs, preserve the whole body sound, so too did he; and it was reckoned to him as righteousness. Let us not, then, weep simply for those who die, but for those who die in sins; these are worthy of lamentation, these of beating the breast and tears.

What hope is there, tell me, of departing with one's sins, where there is no way to put off one's sins? For while they were here, perhaps there was great expectation that they would repent, that they would become better; but if they depart to Hades, where there is no gaining anything from repentance (for in Hades, it says, who will confess you?), how then are they not worthy of lamentation? Let us weep, then, for those who depart in this way—I do not forbid it; let us weep, but not indecently, not tearing our hair, not baring our arms, not lacerating our face, but rather letting fall quietly a small tear in the soul; for this benefits us. For the one who mourns that man in this way will much more strive himself never to fall into the same things. And again, when you see a dead man being carried through the marketplace, orphan children following, a widow woman cutting herself, servants wailing, friends downcast, consider the nothingness of present things, and that they differ in no way from a shadow and dreams. Consider for me the houses of the great and illustrious, now brought down to the ground; reflect how much they once had power, and now not even their memory is left. For many tyrants sat upon the ground, while the unexpected man wore a diadem. But are these things not enough? Consider also, before death, when you sleep, of what you are worthy: will not even a small beast be able to destroy you? For often a small creature falling from the roof has either put out an eye for many, or has become the cause of some other danger. Think on these things; and do not marvel at the bloom of the human face, nor at the outstretched neck, nor at the cloak and the horse and the attendants.

But consider where all these things end. And if you marvel at visible things, I too will tell you the things in the Scriptures that are far more splendid than these. But just as we do not marvel at those things because of their appearance, seeing their substance, that the whole is clay, so neither at these; for these too are clay, or rather even before they dissolve and become dust. Show me this man who is now lifted up, feverish, gasping for breath, and then I will converse with you and ask: Where now are those who swagger in the marketplace with great pomp and many followers? Those who are dressed in silk, and breathe of perfumes, and feed parasites, and are nailed to the stage the whole time? Where is the luxury of those banquets, the multitude of musicians, the attendance of flatterers, the abundant laughter, the relaxation of the soul, the diffusion of the mind, the soft and slack and extravagant life? All has gone and flown away. What has become of the body that enjoyed such care and purity? Go to the coffin, behold the dust, the ashes, the worms, the hideousness of the place; behold and groan bitterly. And would that the loss were only as far as the ashes; but now from the coffin and these worms transfer your thought to that endless worm, to the gnashing of teeth, to the outer darkness, to the unquenchable fire, and those bitter and unbearable punishments, those unto endless ages. For here both good things and hard things have an end, and that most swiftly; but there both are extended through immortal ages.

And in quality it differs from the present things as much as cannot even be expressed. What then has become of that great world? And where has it gone—that great flattery and service of slaves, and the abundance of money and possessions? What wind came upon it and blew it all away? And what is the meaning of this excessive and profitless expense for burial, which brings great loss to those who bury and no gain to the departed? When you hear that the Master rose naked, cease from this madness over burial. For Christ, having said, I saw you hungry and fed you, thirsty and gave you drink, naked and clothed you, did not add, And dead, and you buried me. For if he commands the living to have nothing more than a covering, much more the dead. What defense then shall we have, when we adorn the body that is being consumed into pus and worms, but overlook Christ hungry, thirsty, naked, and a stranger? But even lying on the bier, he says, the dead man bears the symbols of vanity and wealth: bright clothing laid upon him, poor and rich escorting him, crowds acclaiming. Most of all these things are a laughingstock; yet even these are immediately shown to flow away like a flower. For when we have crossed the threshold of the city gates, and having handed the body over to the worms we return, I will ask you again: Where is that great crowd going? What has become of the shouting and the tumult? Where are the torches, where are the choruses of women? Are these things not a dream? And what became of the cries? Where are those many mouths?

Those cries and exhortations to take courage, that no one is immortal? These things ought not to have been said now to one who does not hear, but when he was plundering, when he was grasping for more, then, with a slight change, one ought to have said: We must not take courage; no one is immortal. If someone had built you houses where you were not going to remain, you would have considered the matter a loss; but now you wish to be rich here, from where, even before evening, you will often be departing. Stop the madness, quench the desire. But "Take courage" belongs to the one who is wronged. But even if these things are no longer profitable to that man, since he has already left the arena, at least let those who are sick with the same disease as he and who follow to the tomb hear them. For since previously, under the drunkenness of money, they think nothing of the sort, but at that time, when the sight of the one lying there confirms what is said, let them be brought to their senses, let them be instructed, considering that a little later those who lead them away will bring them also to those fearful accounts, and to giving satisfaction for the wrongs they wickedly committed here. Therefore, so that we too may not suffer the same things as they, let us strive with all our power to change and become better, so that we may also attain the good things to come, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be the glory and the might, with the Father and the life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

WORD 32. On courage and strength. Ignorance makes the soul cowardly and unmanly, not by nature but by choice. For when I see a man who was once courageous now cowardly, I no longer say that the affliction is a matter of nature; for the things of nature are unchangeable. Again, when I see those who are now cowardly suddenly become bold, I make the same judgment again; since indeed the disciples were very cowardly before they had learned what they needed to learn and had been deemed worthy of the gift of the Spirit, yet afterward they became bolder than lions. And Peter, who could not endure the threat of a servant girl, was hung up by the head and scourged, and though in countless dangers he did not keep silent. Therefore we must neither shrink from the contests nor rush upon them; for in this way both our victory will be more brilliant and our defeat will make the devil more ridiculous. For when we are dragged into them we must stand nobly, and when we are not called we must keep quiet and wait for the season of the contests, so that we may display both freedom from vainglory and nobility. For to be bold simply and indiscriminately is often the mark of ordinary people; but to apply oneself to the matter as is fitting, at the proper time, and with the appropriate measure and understanding, requires a very great and wonderful soul. For that man alone is courageous, even if he lies cast upon a bed, who has his strength from within; so that without this, even if someone tears down a mountain by the strength of his body, I would not say that he is stronger than a pitiful servant girl or old woman. For the one wrestles with incorporeal evils, while the other does not even dare to look them in the face.

Do you wish, then, to learn that nothing is stronger than the man fenced about by help from above, and nothing weaker than the man who is without it, even if he is surrounded by ten thousand armies? David, being quite young and, because of the unripe season of his age, living in his father's house, is sent by his father to visit his brothers. So when he arrived to visit them, and saw the war drawn up, and Goliath the foreigner, and all the people cowering together with the king, for a while he wished to become a spectator, and he went to see the strange and paradoxical thing—that one man stood up against so many tens of thousands—and he says, "Who is this foreigner, who reproaches the battle-line of the living God? And what will be given to the man who cuts off his head?" When Saul learned these things, he sent for the young man, who knew nothing more than shepherding, and seeing his age, he despised him. Then, having learned from him how he had dealt with the bears when they attacked the flocks, he wished to put his own armor on him; but when he had put it on, he could not even bear it. And this happened so that the naked power of God working through him might be shown, and so that men might not reckon the things that happened to the armor. For since after putting it on he was hobbling, he took off the armor, and taking the shepherd's staff and the stones, he went out thus against the fleshly tower. But look again also at the foreigner, seeing the cheapness of his age, and from this despising the righteous man.

For when he saw him rushing at him with the shepherd’s basket and bringing only clods of earth, he all but said to him: “You thought that you were long ago set over sheep and driving off certain dogs, and for this reason, as though driving off some dog, you have rushed with those instruments of yours to do battle against me? Now experience will teach you that your war is not against any chance opponent.” And employing great boastfulness, he was hastening and pressing on, and he was setting his full armor in motion and stretching out his weapons. But the one, trusting in the power of his weapons, took hold of the battle; the other, having closed himself in with faith and help from above, first brought down the prancing of the foreigner through his words, saying to him: “You come against me with sword and spear, and you think to prevail by your own strength, but I come in the name of the Lord God.” And having said these things, taking up one clod from the shepherd’s basket, as though truly about to drive off some dog attacking the flock, thus he hurled it with the sling, and immediately upon the forehead

Having struck him, he brought down the foreigner, and after rushing forward and taking away his sword, he cut off his head with it and thus brought it to the king, and gave an end to the war. And through him the king also found safety, and his whole army breathed again. And one could see wondrous and paradoxical things: the armed man brought down by the unarmed, and the one experienced in the arts of war by one who knew nothing more than shepherding. For what reason and why? Because the one had the alliance from above fighting alongside him, while the other, being destitute of it, fell under his hands. It is a lofty thing, then, and paradoxical not even to admit the desire that arises in us, but to drive it off and quench it; but if this is not possible, at least let us wrestle and hold out continually; for if we come out of the wrestling still wrestling, we have conquered. For it is not as in the case of athletes, so also here; for there, unless you bring your opponent down, you have not conquered; but here, if you are not brought down, you have conquered and have brought down your opponent; and reasonably so. For there both parties strive for victory, and if one is brought down, the other is crowned; but here it is not so, but the devil strives for our defeat; when, then, I take away from him that for which he strives, I have conquered. For he is eager not to bring down but to bring down together with himself; and his victory is not in being crowned, but in perishing together. And if you are struck many times, do not even so withdraw; for it belongs to those who do not fight not to be wounded; but those who advance against the enemies with great fury may sometimes also be struck.

And no one, upon seeing a soldier returning from war with a wound, would reproach him; for it is a reproach to throw down one's weapons and to be outside the enemy's reach. As long as a man stands fighting, even if he is struck, even if he retreats for a little while, no one is so senseless, nor so inexperienced in the ways of war, as ever to bring a charge against him. For whenever a man does not wish to wrong himself, another will never have power over him. For often the weapons and siege-engines from outside could not bring down the strong cities, but the treachery of one or two of those dwelling within delivered them to the enemy without toil. If, therefore, none of the thoughts within you betrays you, even if the wicked one brings ten thousand engines, he will bring them in vain. For what should we say of that noble mother of the Maccabees? Was she not a woman? Did she not give seven sons to the choir of the saints? Did she not see them bear witness? Did she not stand by, bearing witness for each one of them? For while they were being tortured, she received the blow; for she was a mother. Consider how she anointed them, how she presented seven temples to God. The tyrant stood by, and, defeated by one woman, he withdrew. He besieged with weapons, and she prevailed by her zeal; he kindled a furnace, and she kindled the fire of the Spirit still more; he set an army in motion, and she migrated to the angels. She looked down on the tyrant, and she kept in mind the King above; she saw the torments below, and she counted the prizes above; she saw the present punishment, and she kept in mind the immortality to come. And what of Esau? Was he not greater than Jacob? Was he not the firstborn? Was he not beloved by his father?

But by betraying himself through sin, he also falls from the birthright and is condemned to serve the lesser. For the Lord said, it says, to Rebekah through the priest: Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall be separated in your belly, and people shall prevail over people, and the greater shall serve the lesser. Observe the prophecy clearly disclosing to her all that was going to happen. For the children leaping and skipping in the womb already foretold everything with precision. And from then on the woman learned not only that she would bear two children, but that these would extend into nations, and that the lesser would rule over the greater. And when the time of birth drew near, he came out, it says, the firstborn ruddy, as hairy as a skin; and after this his brother came out, and his hand was holding his heel, and he called his name Jacob: God already showing, so to speak, even from the outset that the lesser would prevail over the greater, according to what was said. For he held, it says, Esau's heel with his hand, which was a sign that he was wrestling down the one who seemed to be strong. But since the occasion calls, I will now turn my discourse to the most blessed Paul. For I am inflamed with longing for the man, and for this reason I do not cease continually turning him over in my mind. Let no one then shrink back from the undertaking.

For if a barbarian war had surrounded us, and in the battle line the enemies were causing us countless troubles, and then the general of the barbarians, who was bringing countless devices and throwing all our affairs into confusion, and filling us with great uproar and tumult, and threatening to raze the city itself and hand it over to fire, and holding out slavery over us—if suddenly he had been bound by our king and led captive into the city, would we not all have rushed out with our wives and children to that spectacle? But since even now a war has arisen, with the Jews in uproar and throwing everything into confusion, and bringing many devices against the security of the Church, and the leader of the enemies is Paul, who does and says things greater than all, who throws everything into uproar and confusion—but our Lord Jesus Christ, our king, has bound him, has bound him and led him captive—shall we not all go out to this spectacle, so as to see him led captive? For even the angels, watching from the heavens as he was bound and led in, were leaping for joy—not because they saw him bound, but because they understood how many men he was about to loose from their bonds; not because they beheld him led by the hand, but because they reckoned how many he was about to lead by the hand from earth to heaven; not because they saw him blinded, but because they understood how many he was about to lead out of darkness. For this reason I too, leaving all the others aside, hasten to leap toward Paul; for Paul, and longing for Paul, has compelled us to make this leap.

For what is warmer than this man's heart, who ran about everywhere in the world, dragged, stoned, bound, in order to loose those who were bound and bring them over to himself? For he did not accomplish these things as one fighting, but as one coming to a ready and at-hand victory, so he set up trophies, demolishing, tearing down, casting down the strongholds of the devil, and the devices of the demons, and he did not breathe even a little, leaping from these to those, and again from those to others, and like some excellent general, setting up trophies every day, or rather every hour. For entering the battle line from a single tunic, he captured the cities of the enemy with their men; and bows and spears and arrows and all things were the tongue of Paul. For he only spoke, and his words, falling upon the enemies more fiercely than any fire, drove out the demons and brought back to himself the men possessed by them. For when he cast out that wicked demon, five thousand men of the sorcerers came together and burned the books of their magic, and turned to the truth. And just as in war, when a tower has fallen or a tyrant has been brought down, all those with him throw down their weapons and run to the general, so indeed it happened then too; for when the demon had been cast out, all were besieged and threw down their books, or rather destroyed them, and ran to the feet of Paul. And he, arrayed against the world as against a single army, stood nowhere still, but as if he were winged, he did all things.

And now he was setting right the lame, now he was raising the dead, now he was visiting another—I mean the magician; and even when shut up in prison he did not keep quiet, but there too he won over the jailer to himself, working out this noble captivity. David is admired for bringing down Goliath with only a single stone; but if one were to examine Paul's achievements, that was a child's deed, and as great as the difference between a shepherd and a general, so great is the difference between the one and the other. For this man, not by hurling a stone, brought down the noetic Goliath, but by merely speaking he destroyed the whole phalanx of the devil. And just like a roaring lion, and sending forth flame from his tongue, so he was unbearable to all as he advanced, and everywhere he leaped continually; he ran to these, he came to those, he moved over to these, he sprang away to others; advancing faster than the wind, and steering the whole inhabited world as though it were one house, or one ship; and drawing up those who were being baptized, steadying those who were dizzy, exhorting the sailors, sitting at the necks, looking around at the prow, stretching the ropes, handling the oar, hauling the sail, looking toward heaven, being everything himself—both sailor, and pilot, and look-out man, and sail, and ship, and suffering all things, in order to loose the evils of others. And just like an athlete wrestling himself, running, boxing, or a soldier fighting at the walls, fighting on land, fighting at sea; so he went through every kind of battle, and breathed fire, and was unapproachable to all, encompassing the inhabited world with one body, and subduing all with one tongue.

Not so did the many trumpets fall upon the stones of the city of the Jerichonians and bring them down, as the voice of Paul, resounding, cast the devil's strongholds to the ground and transferred the enemies to himself. And he was let down through a window from the wall, so that from below he might send upward those who had been cast down to the ground. And just as a soldier, having the whole inhabited world at war, might move about in the midst of the ranks of the enemies and suffer nothing terrible—so too Paul, alone among barbarians, among Greeks, appearing everywhere on land, everywhere on sea, remained unconquered; and just as a spark falling upon reeds and grass changes what is burned to its own nature, so too he, advancing upon all, transfers all to the truth. For tell me, what is more glorious than Nero in the glory of the world, or what is higher? And what is more worthless than Paul, or more dishonored? For the tyrant had accomplished many things, had set up very many trophies, had wealth flowing in from everywhere, countless armies, the greater part of the inhabited world held in subjection, the queen city held beneath him, the whole senate bowing down, who also in the palaces themselves went forth with a splendid appearance; and whether it was necessary to arm himself, he went out armed in gold and precious stones, or whether to go forth in peace, he was clothed in purple; and he always had many guards, many attendants:

The master of land and sea heard him—autocrat, Augustus, Caesar, king—and nothing at all was lacking for his glory, but even wise men and potentates and kings trembled and were afraid of him. And in any case this man was said to be cruel and reckless, and he wished to be a god, and he despised all the idols, and even the God of all, and he was served as a god. But let us set Paul against him in comparison, if it seems good. The man was a Cilician, a leather-worker, poor, unacquainted with the outside education, knowing only Hebrew, a tongue mocked by many; a man who often lived in hunger and went to sleep hungry; a man naked with nothing to put on; and not only these things, but also cast into chains with robbers, with sorcerers, with tomb-robbers, with murderers, by the command of Nero himself, and scourged as a criminal. Who, then, is more illustrious just now? Do not the many not even know that man's name, while Greeks and barbarians and Scythians and those at the very ends of the inhabited world sing of this one every day? And who is more august—the one who conquers in chains, or the one who is conquered in purple; the one who stands below and strikes, or the one who sits above and is struck; the one who commands and is despised, or the one who is commanded and has no account of his commands; the one who is alone and prevails, or the one who with ten thousand armies is defeated? For if conquering is more illustrious than being conquered, then Paul is certainly

more glorious. And this is not yet the great thing, that he conquered, but that in such a guise he conquered the one in such a guise. Who shall declare thy mighty acts, O Lord, that thou didst not suffer Paul to go unnoticed? That thou didst show such a man to the world? All the angels praised thee with one accord, when thou madest the stars and when thou madest the sun, but not so as when thou didst show Paul to the whole world. For this reason the earth has become brighter than heaven, since this man is brighter than the light of the sun. And this sun yields to the night, but that man prevailed over the devil; and the one, borne down from on high, sends forth his rays, but he, rising from below, did not fill the midst of heaven and earth with light, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he filled the angels with great pleasure. For if there is joy in the heavens over one sinner who repents, and he from his very first public address hunted five thousand men, with how much joy does he not fill the powers above? And why do I say this? Simply for Paul to speak is enough, and for the heavens to leap and rejoice. If, therefore, Paul, who exulted in so many achievements, and appeared like an angel on earth, was eager each day to make gain, and to array himself against dangers for the sake of the truth, and to gather for himself the spiritual merchandise, and never to stand still;

What defense would we have, who are not only destitute of all good accomplishments, but are also subject to so many failings, of which even one alone, if present in us, is enough to drag us down into the very abyss of destruction—and who make no earnest effort even to correct these things, let alone to lay hold of the works of virtue? Was not that blessed man of the same nature as we are? For I am inflamed with longing for the man, and for this reason I never cease turning him over in my mind; and as if into some archetypal image, into his... and barbarians and Scythians and those at the very ends of the world sing of him each day? And who is more august—the one who conquers in chains, or the one who is conquered in the purple robe; the one who stands below and strikes, or the one who sits above and is struck; the one who commands and is despised, or the one who is commanded and has no regard for the commands; the one who is alone and prevails, or the one who is defeated with ten thousand armies? For if conquering is more splendid than being conquered, then Paul is altogether more glorious. And this is not yet the great thing, that he conquered, but that in such a guise he conquered the one in such a guise. Who shall declare thy mighty acts, O Lord, that thou didst not suffer Paul to go unnoticed; that thou didst show to the world such a man? All the angels praised thee with one accord when thou didst make the stars and when thou didst make the sun, but not as when thou didst show Paul to the whole world. For this reason the earth has become brighter than heaven, since this man is brighter than the light of the sun. And this sun yields to the night, but that man prevailed over the devil.

And the one, borne down from on high, sends forth his rays; but he, rising from below, did not fill the midst of heaven and earth with light, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he filled the angels with great pleasure. For if there is joy in the heavens over one sinner who repents, and he from his very first public discourse hunted five thousand men, with how much joy does he not fill the powers above? And why do I say this? It is enough simply for Paul to speak, and the heavens leap and rejoice. If, then, Paul, who was adorned with so many achievements and appeared on earth like an angel, was eager each day to make gain and to array himself against dangers for the sake of the truth, and to gather for himself the spiritual merchandise, and never to stand still, what defense would we have, who are not only destitute of all good accomplishments, but are also subject to so many failings, of which even one alone, if present in us, is enough to drag us down into the very abyss of destruction, and who make no effort even to correct these things,

How much more should we not touch the works of virtue? Or was that blessed man not of the same nature as we? For I am inflamed with longing for the man, and for this reason I do not cease continually turning him over in my mind; and as if looking at some archetypal image, gazing upon his soul, I reckon the contempt of passions, the excess of courage, the burning fervor of his love toward God; and I am amazed how one man, willing it, accomplished the whole gathering of virtues, while each of us does not wish to accomplish even the least thing. Who then will rescue us from the inexorable punishment, when Paul displayed such greatness of virtue, sharing the same nature as we, subject to the same passions, having lived in such difficulty of times, and every day, so to speak, being dragged, torn, and publicly hauled about by those who warred against the preaching? And so that you may not hear from our tongue the achievements and courage of this blessed man, which he displayed each day for the sake of the preaching of piety, it is necessary to hear him speaking: In whatever anyone dares, I speak in foolishness, I also dare. Observe a soul that loves God. He calls the matter not only daring but also foolishness, teaching us not simply without necessity, when no one compels, to parade abroad the things done by us, if indeed some among us should be found to have done some good. Are they Hebrews? I am also. Are they Israelites? I am also. Are they the seed of Abraham? I am also. In these things, he says, do they boast greatly? Let them not think that we are inferior; for we too partake of the same.

Then he added: Are they ministers of Christ? I speak as a fool, I am more. Observe here for me the virtue of this blessed man's soul. For since he called what had been done by him both boldness and folly, although he had been brought into such great necessity, not even so was he satisfied with what had been said; but when he was about to show himself surpassing them by a far greater measure, so that no one might think he was saying these things out of self-love, he again calls what is said by him folly, almost saying: Do I not know that I am doing a thing that appears to many and is not fitting for me? But the great necessity that has constrained me compels me to this; therefore forgive me, he says, for uttering words of folly. Let us imitate even the shadow of this man, we who have so many burdens of sins lying upon us, and often accomplish one small thing, and do not even endure to keep this in the treasuries of the mind, but because of hunting for the glory that comes from men we make a public show of it, and set it forth in the midst, and through this untimely babbling deprive ourselves of the reward from God. But this blessed man has suffered no such thing, but having said, I am more, he then enumerates the achievements of his courage, and says: In labor and toil, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness, besides those things that are without. See again another sea of temptations opened out for us; for having said, Besides those things that are without, he hinted that the things omitted are likely to be more than those spoken.

And he did not stop even there, but again he teaches us the assaults and conspiracies which he endured, saying thus: The assault upon me daily, the care of all the Churches. Behold again, this too is a sufficient achievement, even if it stands alone, bringing him to the very summit of virtue. The care, he says, of all the Churches—not of one and two and three, but of all the Churches throughout the whole inhabited world, as far as the sun runs over the earth sending forth its own rays; such was the care and solicitude which this blessed man had. Did you see the breadth of his soul? Did you see the greatness of his mind? And what follows, again, as one might say, hides all the things that have been said: For who is weak, he says, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I am not burned? Alas, how great is this man's affection? How great his wakefulness? How great his care? What mother is so torn in her inwards, when her child is feverish and lies upon the bed, as this blessed man was weak on behalf of the sick in every place, and was burned on behalf of those who were scandalized? For observe with me the force of the expression. He did not say, Who is scandalized, and I am not grieved; but, Who is scandalized, and I am not burned, he says, making clear to us the intensity of his pain, and all but showing himself set on fire and burning within on behalf of those who endure scandals. I know that I have stretched out the discourse to great length, but I do not know how, having fallen into the wealth of this holy man's achievements, I was thus swept along in my tongue as if by the rush of some most violent waters.

Therefore, having stopped the discourse at this point, I exhort your love to carry this continually in your mind and to consider it constantly: that he, sharing the same nature as we and subject to the same passions, and having a humble and contemptible trade, stitching leather and standing at a workshop—when he wished and willed to give himself over to the labors of virtue and to make himself worthy of the reception of the Holy Spirit, he enjoyed more abundantly the generosity from above; may it be granted to us all to obtain this, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the power, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. Homily 33. On the holy feast of the Palms. Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, into the house of Mary and Martha, and he was entertained by them; and Martha was serving, and Lazarus was eating. This was a sign of the genuine resurrection—that after many days he both lived and ate. Hence it is clear that the meal was in the house of Martha; for as friends and being loved, they receive Jesus. But some say that this took place in another's house. And Mary was serving; for she was a disciple. Again here she was ministering with a more spiritual service; for she was not serving as one who had been invited, nor does she make the service a common one, but she directs the honor to him alone, and she does not approach him as a man, but as God. For this reason she poured out the myrrh and wiped it with the hair of her head.

things which did not have such an opinion about him as most people had. But Judas rebuked her, ostensibly under the pretext of piety. What then does Christ say? Leave her alone; she has kept it for the day of my burial. Why then did he not expose the disciple in the woman's presence, nor say what the evangelist said, that it was because of his own theft that he was rebuking the woman? He wished to shame him by his great long-suffering. For because he knew that he was a traitor, he exposed him from the beginning, saying many times: Not all believe; and, One of you is a devil. He showed, then, that he knew him to be a traitor, but he did not expose him openly, but permitted it, wishing to recall him. How then does another say that all the disciples said this? And all, including that one; but the rest not with the same intention. And if someone should ask why on earth he entrusted the money-box of the poor to a thief, and made a lover of money the steward; we would say this, that Jesus knows the secret reason; but if we too must speak by conjecture, it was in order to cut off every pretext. For he could not say that he did this out of love of money; for he had sufficient consolation of his desire from the money-box; but out of great wickedness, which if he had wished to restrain, he would not have handed over his benefactor. But Christ, having dealt with him with great condescension, endured him with long-suffering. Therefore he did not even reproach him for stealing, although he knew it, stopping up

He was exposing his evil desire and removing every excuse. Therefore he also said, Leave her alone; she has kept it for the day of my burial. Again he reminded the traitor, by saying "burial." But the rebuke did not touch him, nor did the word soften him, although it was sufficient to move him to compunction; as if he had said, I am burdensome and oppressive, but wait a little while and I will depart. For he was also establishing this when he said, But you do not always have me. Yet none of these things bent that beast-like and raving man; although he said and did far more, and washed his feet on that very night, and shared his table with him. A great crowd of the Jews therefore learned that Jesus was in Bethany, and they came, not for his sake only, but that they might also see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. And here, having beheld the miracle, many believed. But the rulers were not satisfied with their own evils alone, but they even attempted to put Lazarus to death. For the chief priests planned to kill Lazarus also, because many of the Jews were going over because of him, and were believing in Jesus. Let it be granted that they wanted to kill Christ because he broke the Sabbath, because he made himself equal to the Father, and, as they say, for the sake of the Romans, so that they might not take away both their place and their nation; what charge did they have against Lazarus that they attempted to put him to death, unless perhaps that he had suffered well? Do you see how murderous their purpose was? And yet he worked many signs, but none of them so brutalized them, not the paralytic, not the blind man.

For this was more wonderful even by nature, and it had happened after many things, and it was paradoxical to see a four-day-old corpse walking and speaking. O the folly of the so-called chief priests! For it was the accomplishment of their festival to mingle the assembly with murders. Moreover, in that case they seemed to accuse the Sabbath, and by this deception to lead away the crowds; but here, since they had nothing to falsify, they make their attempt against the one who had been healed. For here they could not even say that he is opposed to the Father; for the prayer silenced them. Since, therefore, that which they always accused had been removed, and the sign was bright, they rush to murder. So that they would have done this also in the case of the blind man, if they had not had the Sabbath to accuse. Moreover, that man was insignificant, and they cast him out of the temple; but this man was more notable; and it is clear from the fact that many came for the consolation of the brothers; and the wonder happened while all were watching, and with great paradox-making; therefore all were running to see. This, then, was biting them, that with the festival at hand all were leaving and coming to Bethany. They attempted, therefore, to destroy him, and they did not seem to be daring anything base; so murderous were they. For this reason the law, beginning, begins from this, saying, You shall not murder. And the prophet accuses this, saying, Their hands are full of blood. On the next day a great crowd that had come to the festival, having heard that Jesus is coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of the palms, and went out to meet him, and cried out: Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the king of Israel.

How then does he enter again with boldness, when he had not walked in Judea with boldness, but had withdrawn into the wilderness? Having quenched their anger by his withdrawal, he presents himself to them when they had ceased; and besides, the multitude going before and following after was sufficient to cast them into agony. For no sign so drew them as that of Lazarus. And another evangelist says that they spread their garments under his feet, and that the whole city was shaken; with such honor did he enter. And Jesus, having found a donkey, sat upon it, as it is written, Fear not, daughter of Zion; behold, your king comes sitting on a colt, the foal of a donkey. And he did this, fulfilling one prophecy and prefiguring another; and the same thing became the beginning of the one and the end of the other. For the words, Fear not, daughter of Zion, rejoice that your king comes to you meek, were a prophecy fulfilled; but to sit upon a donkey was prefiguring a future thing, that the unclean race of the nations was going to be subject. But how do the evangelists say that he sent disciples and said, Loose the donkey and the colt; while this one says nothing of the kind, but that having found a donkey he sat upon it? Because it was likely that both happened, and that after the donkey was loosed, the disciples having come and having found the colt, he sat upon it. And the branches of palms and olives and the garments they spread under him, showing that they now had a greater opinion of him than of a prophet, and they said, Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.

Do you see that this above all choked the chief priests and scribes—that everyone was convinced that he is not opposed to God? And this above all divided the people—that he said he had come from the Father. But “Do not fear, rejoice greatly, daughter Zion,” says the prophet, since all their kings for the most part were unjust and greedy, and they handed them over to their enemies, and they corrupted the multitude, and made them liable to their foes. “Take courage,” he says; “this one is not such, but gentle and reasonable”—and this is shown from the donkey; for he did not enter dragging armies with him, but having only a donkey. But these things, he says, his disciples did not know—the things that had happened—that these things were written concerning him, and these things they did to him. Do you see that they did them for the most part in ignorance? But when he rose from the dead, then they remembered that these things were written concerning him, and these things they did to him—and he himself did not reveal it. For even when he said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up,” not even this did the disciples know. And another evangelist says that the word was hidden from them, and they did not know that he must rise from the dead. But this was reasonably hidden; therefore another evangelist also says that, hearing about the passion each day, they grieved and were downcast—this came from not knowing the word of the resurrection. This, then, was reasonably hidden, since it was greater than they could bear; but why was the matter of the donkey not revealed to them? Because this too was great.

See the evangelist's wisdom—how he is not ashamed to expose their former ignorance. For they knew that it was written, but they did not know that it referred to him; for it would have scandalized them if a king was going to suffer such things. And besides, they would not have immediately accepted the knowledge of the kingdom of which they spoke. For another evangelist says that they thought this was said about that kingdom. So the crowd that was with him testified when he called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead. For this reason the crowd met him, because they heard that he had done this sign. For so many would not have changed their minds suddenly, he says, unless they had believed the sign. But the Pharisees said to themselves: “You see that you gain nothing? Look, the world has gone after him.” This seems to me to be the response of those who are sound but do not dare to speak boldly. And Paul, when discoursing about the resurrection, brought up this same argument. What defense, then, will those who disbelieve the resurrection have? Therefore, beloved, so that we do not vainly occupy you and display a labyrinth of words, leaving these things aside, we will say that: Hold fast to the hearing of the divine Scriptures, and do not fight over words, which is useful for nothing and leads to the ruin of those who hear. For Paul also exhorted Timothy, although he was filled with great wisdom and had power from signs.

Let us therefore be persuaded by him, and, setting aside idle talk, let us hold fast to works—I mean love of brethren and love of strangers—and let us make great account of almsgiving, so that we may attain the promised good things, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen. Discourse 34. On the holy Nativity of Christ. The feast of all feasts has arrived, and has filled the whole inhabited world with gladness—the feast that is the citadel of all good things, the source and root of the blessings among us, through which heaven was opened, the Spirit was sent down, the dividing wall was abolished, the barrier was loosed, things that were separated were united, darkness was extinguished, light shone forth, heaven received the nature that is from the earth, the earth received him who sits upon the Cherubim; slaves have become free, enemies have become sons, strangers have become heirs. Through it the long-standing enmity was dissolved and the long war, and the peace that was of old desired by angels and righteous men has come. And Paul cries out, saying: Christ is our peace, who has made both one, and has broken down the dividing wall of the barrier, the enmity in his flesh. Through it the bright and manifest trophy of the cross has been set up, the spoils of Christ, the first-fruits of our nature, the plunder of our King. What, then, could be equal to this feast? God upon earth, man in heaven, angels dance together with men, men share fellowship with angels and with the other powers above.

Demons have fled, death has been loosed, paradise has been opened, the curse has vanished, sin has been put away, error has been driven out, truth has returned; and the nature for whose sake the Cherubim guarded paradise has today been united to God. Do not therefore be held in perplexity when you hear these things; for that which is full of amazement, and beyond all hope and expectation, is that a man should become God; and this having come to pass, all that follows comes about by reason and in sequence. For not idly and in vain did he humble himself so greatly, unless he was about to exalt us. He was born according to the flesh, that you might be born according to the spirit; he was born of a woman, that you might cease to be a son of a woman; he endured that his own Father should become a slave, that for you, the slave, he might make the Master a Father. Let us therefore all rejoice and leap for joy, taking delight in our own good things. For if the patriarch Abraham rejoiced to see the day of the Lord, and saw it, and was glad, much more must we, seeing God in swaddling clothes—that dread and wondrous sight—rejoice and exult and marvel and be amazed at the greatness of his so great beneficence. But how did this wonderful and great thing come to pass? How were we, who had offended, who had appeared unworthy of the earth, and who had fallen from the rule below, led up to so great a height? How was the war brought to an end? How was the wrath done away? How? For this is the wonderful thing and full of amazement, that it was not we who had offended who ran forward, nor the enemies and adversaries who were cast down, but he himself who was justly indignant who entreated us—and so peace came to be.

For we are ambassadors on behalf of Christ, as though God were entreating through us. What is this? He himself has been insulted, and he himself entreats? Yes, he says; for he is good, and for this reason he entreats. And, if you wish, leading the discourse further up, we shall try to show that even though no good deed had been previously accomplished by man, for the sake of goodness alone he granted him both present and future things. But pay attention with precision. Before the angels came to be and the other powers in the heavens, God was, never having received a beginning of being, and always being without need; for such is the divine nature. He made angels, archangels, and other essences of incorporeal beings; and he made them for no other reason than goodness alone; for those whose service he did not need, he would not have become their creator either, had he not been exceedingly good. And after the creation of these, he makes man also, for this same reason again, and all this world; and having filled him with countless good things, he set that little and insignificant being over so many works, declaring him on earth to be what he himself is in the heavens. And having made him and established him in such great honor, like a palace for a king, he assigned to him the most beautiful of things on earth, paradise. And he did not dignify him with this alone, but also reason

He granted this to him alone of all, and deemed him worthy of the knowledge of himself, and gave him to enjoy converse with him, as it was possible for him to enjoy it, and promised to bestow immortality, and filled him with great wisdom, and implanted spiritual grace in him, so that some even prophesied. What then after so many and such great goods? He considered the Enemy more trustworthy than the one who had bestowed these things, and disregarding the commandment of the one who made him, he preferred the deception of the one who earnestly sought to destroy him utterly. Did God then blot him out, who displayed such ingratitude from the beginning and, so to speak, from the very first line, as was consistent with the reasoning of justice? By no means, but rather he cared for the fallen one more than before. After this, when our race was faring badly, so as to be in danger even of falling out of the earth itself, he did not cast it off, but cared so much for those who had offended that the Lord even made defense to his servant, and conversed as with a friend of equal honor, and told him the causes of the coming destruction. Then he gave the law as a help, he sent prophets to suggest what should be done; later he sent his own only-begotten Son, born of a woman, born under the law, that he might redeem those under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Whence also the prophet, marveling at his great care for the inhabited world, cried out loudly and brightly, saying thus: Our God has appeared upon the earth, and has conversed with men.

For it is truly extraordinary to hear that God, the ineffable and inexpressible and incomprehensible One, equal to the Father and the genuine Son of the unoriginate God, came through a virgin womb and deigned to be born of a woman; he who did not cease before, doing all things and working, until he led us, his enemies and foes, up to God himself and made us friends. And just as someone standing between two parties separated from each other, stretching out both hands and taking hold of each from either side, would join them together, so he also did, joining the divine nature to the human, his own to ours. Do you see the excess of goodness? He who was insulted also pleaded, as I said before, and brought about the reconciliation. See now how also the tyrant, like a king who has laid aside the purple and the diadem, often put on a soldier's garb, so that, not becoming recognizable, he might draw the enemies to himself. But here the opposite: Christ came in our form, so that, not becoming recognizable, he might cause the enemy to flee from engaging with him, and might throw all his own into confusion; for he hastened to save, not to terrify. And for what reason, he says, did such reconciliation take place not through one of the incorporeal powers, nor through a mere man, but through the emptying of the Word? Because, if he had seen fit to accomplish the common salvation of our race through some other, we would not have come to know the greatness of his providence toward us, but even that which is marveled at throughout all the age would have fallen into a cheap action, providing nothing truly marvelous.

For if creation were united with creation and took to itself what is of the same servile rank, nothing of the hidden mysteries would follow, nor would it have the astonishment of the paradoxical. And besides, how could a divine work of God be accomplished by a man? And even if it had come to pass, which is impossible, the fall would sooner and more easily have turned back upon itself, or would have increased toward the worse. For if, in the case of Moses, against whom they often murmured, and whose salvation coming down from above through him they made worse than the evils in Egypt, they nevertheless took thought to call him god after his death—so that, as some say, for this very reason even his tomb has remained to the eyes of the Jews until now unseen and unknown—how would they not have proclaimed as god the one who delivered them from a greater tyranny, even if they knew him to be of the same nature? And this is clear, that there was no resurrection from the fall, but a more grievous and incurable downfall. And after these things one may state yet another reason, for which especially, if an angel or a mere man had been put forward to restore us from the fall, we would not rather have obtained salvation, but the race would have fallen from the fairest and most precious thing of the inexpressible glory. What is this? That which it was not possible for us even to come near to obtaining, but which now, since the Word has been made flesh, we delight in and enjoy.

For how would it have been granted as a favor to our race, if human or angelic nature had undertaken the economy concerning us, that it be seated at the right hand of the Father, and become above every angelic and archangelic choir, and enjoy such and so great honor and glory, so that even the powers above, standing nearest to God, desire to peer into our glory, which we enjoy through the lump, and find the attainment greater than the desire, while the human race endures the deprivation of this blessed lot, since our lump had not previously possessed, through human or angelic union, the enjoyment of the glory in which it now shines, nor had they risen to such strength and might and the preeminence of honor? What daring against us would the enemy have passed over? What devices would he not have set in motion, by which he again kept hopes of taking the race under his hand and dragging it down under his ancient tyranny? Against whom would he not have been elated to recover his power, and would he not have displayed a boasting greater than the former, and would he not have considered it daring to busy himself even with heaven itself? For these reasons, then, and many such, the Word of God and Son and true God, and no other, taking up our flesh, accomplished the common salvation of the race. And let no one accuse us of saying things unworthy of God, because for the salvation of the whole inhabited world God, having prepared for himself a living temple in the virgin womb, through that brought the citizenship of the heavens into our life.

For what harm would come to God from this economy? Do you not see this sun, perceptible to the body and corruptible and perishable, even if Greeks choke on it, consorting with filth and many other such things, and not receiving even the slightest share of evil? On the contrary, it even dries up the foul-smelling odor by the impact of its ray. Or do you not grant to the corruptible element equal power to act—the only-begotten Child of God—upon our flesh, so that he is not only not defiled by it, but makes this very flesh both purer and holier? And you, while daring to drag down the substance of God into wood and stones and things even more dishonorable than these, do not shudder; yet you accuse us and say that it is unbecoming for God to inhabit a pure and blameless body, and through it to set the inhabited world aright? For if it is shameful for God to become man, as you say, much more so in stone and wood, insofar as stone and wood are more dishonorable than man—unless perhaps our race seems to you to be more worthless than these perceptible materials. But let the argument about such things be deferred by us to another time; for it is necessary to bring the discourse to the very words of the Gospel. For it says: "Now the generation of Jesus Christ was thus." What generation do you mean to me? The enfleshed one, clearly. For concerning the unbegun generation no one knows, except the only-begotten Child of God himself, who is in the bosom of the Father. How, then, is the generation of Christ according to the flesh?

For when his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together, she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit. But it must be observed that he did not say, "When the virgin had been betrothed," but simply, "When his mother had been betrothed." And he did this so that the account might be readily acceptable, and so as not to astonish by the introduction of the paradoxical matter when he says, "Before they came together, she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit." And for what reason did she not conceive and become pregnant before the betrothal? In order that for the time being he might cast a shadow over what was happening, and in order that the Virgin might escape every evil suspicion. For since the betrothed man, who was bound to be jealous, not only did not expose her publicly, but even received her and cared for her after the pregnancy, he makes this clear to all, that because he had been persuaded that the working of what had been begotten was from the Holy Spirit, he kept her and attended to her. And what is customarily said in the case of paradoxical matters, this he also declares here, saying, "She was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit." But when you have heard, "by the Holy Spirit," do not busy yourself about anything else—for instance, how is the infinite in a womb? How is he who holds all things carried in the womb by a woman? How does the Virgin give birth and remain a virgin? How did the Holy Spirit fashion that temple? And all such things. For the power of the Most High was what overshadowed the Virgin, and the Son of God was what was being born. But Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not willing to expose her publicly, wished to divorce her secretly.

For so admirable was the man that he not only did not punish her, but did not even speak to anyone, nor to the woman herself who was under suspicion, but reasoned within himself—not to cast her out, but to put her away. Therefore also, when he had come into perplexity from such reasonings, then the angel came upon him, resolving the strife of his thoughts. For that he was at a loss is clear from what he was thinking: For he wished, it says, to put her away secretly. He would not have wished either secretly or at all to send her away, if he had been convinced of the burden of a bastard offspring in her womb—but he would have done so by law and punishment, being a righteous man, most of all. But this he was not convinced of, nor again that other—that the conception was of divine operation; for the work was beyond human understanding. Therefore he was tossed about in his reasonings. When, then, he was agitated by these deliberations, then the angel came upon him and said: Do not fear to take Mary as your wife; for what is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. He showed that he was afraid and trembling lest he offend God, by saying, Do not fear, and by holding her within; for this is what taking her means, and not putting her away as he had intended. For not only, it says, is she free from unlawful union, but she has conceived beyond nature. For this is what he indicated by adding, saying: For what is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. And she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. Do not think, it says, because I said, It is of the Holy Spirit, that you are a stranger to the ministry of the economy; to you I give it to place the name upon the one born. For even if you will contribute nothing to the birth, nevertheless you shall call his name.

For even if the child is not yours, still show forth the Father's character toward him, and by the giving of the name make him your own who is born. He did not say, "He shall be born to you a son," but "He shall be born"; for she was not bearing him for himself, but for the whole inhabited world. Therefore he added, "For he himself shall save his people from their sins." And in saying "his people," he spoke not only of the Jews but also of the Gentiles; for all who receive the knowledge that comes from him are his people. And that the one born is shown in this to be the Son of God—in his forgiving sins; for to forgive sins belongs to no other power than the divine essence alone. And all this came to pass, that what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet might be fulfilled, saying: "Behold, the virgin shall conceive in her womb, and shall bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel," which, being translated, is "God with us." I could wish that all Jews and Greeks were present here, and that, taking this book from the Jews, I might thus read the prophecy. For you surely know this, that in the courts and everywhere, testimony is then especially above suspicion when it is brought forward by enemies. For they will surely not be able to say that these things were fabricated by us, since it is not we but those who crucified Christ who provide us with the books that speak of his dispensation. But whether these men are present or not present, we will do our part and take up the interpretation. But, if it seems good, let us take up the prophecy again a little from the beginning, so that what is said may be easily surveyed by you. And he added

The Lord spoke, it says, to Ahaz, saying: Ask for yourself a sign from the Lord your God, in the depth or in the height. And Ahaz said: I will not ask, nor will I test the Lord. And Isaiah said: Hear now, house of Israel, is it a small thing for you to give men trouble? And how do you give the Lord trouble? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel. For since the prophet said, Ask for yourself a sign, but he, feigning great faithfulness, said, I will not ask, nor will I test the Lord, see how with great vehemence the prophet applies the cut, reasonably making the accusation heavier after the demonstration of hypocrisy. For this reason he does not even deem him worthy of an answer; but he turns to the people, saying: Hear, house of David, is it a small thing for you to give men trouble? And how do you give the Lord trouble? What is said is unclear; therefore it is necessary to unfold the saying with precision. For what he says is of this sort: Are not my words mine? Is not my declaration mine? But if to disbelieve men simply and without reason is grievous and worthy of condemnation, much more so is it to disbelieve God. Therefore to give trouble is nothing other than to disbelieve. This, then, he says, is a small charge? Is disbelieving men an ordinary accusation? But if this is grievous, much more so is it toward God. And he said this so that all might learn that the prophet remained undeceived, not being misled by the words that were spoken, but bringing his judgment from the thoughts in the mind of Ahaz.

For since he had conversed with him with great gentleness and had delivered him from the terrors and had bidden him take courage concerning the present circumstances, and had furnished proofs of this by declaring the counsel of those who had marched against him, and by convicting the betrayal, and by foretelling the utter and complete capture of Israel, and by adding the time, he was not satisfied with these things, but proceeds even further, and does not wait for him to ask for a sign, but even when he was unwilling, out of an excess of unbelief, he urges him on; and not simply so, but he even makes him master of the choice; for he does not say "this or that sign," but, "Wherever you wish," he says. Rich is the Master, all-powerful the might, ineffable the authority; if you wish it from the heavens, nothing hinders; if from the earth, nothing obstructs. For this is the meaning of "into the depth, or into the height." But since not even in this way did he draw him, not even here did he keep silent, but bringing a reproof, and this for the correction of the hearer, and to show that he had not deceived nor misled him, he unveils a hidden prophecy, the one that was to be for the salvation of the world, for the correction of all things; and he says that the sign is no longer given to Ahaz, but to the common people of the Jews. For at the beginning he directed the word to him, but since that man showed himself unworthy, he speaks to the common people of the people. For this reason, he says, he will give—not to you, but to you—a sign. To you—to whom? To those in the house of David; for from there the sign sprouted. What then is the sign? Behold, the virgin shall conceive in the womb, and shall bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel.

It must be observed, as I also said before, that the sign is no longer given to Ahaz. And that this is not a conjecture, the prophet himself both reproached and accused them, saying: "Is it a small thing for you to give trouble to men?" And he added: "Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: behold, the virgin shall conceive." But if the Jews should say that the prophet did not say "virgin" but "young woman," and that thus the victory is ours. For indeed Scripture is accustomed to use the word "young woman" for virginity, as it is recorded in the Psalms: "Young men and virgins, elders with the younger, let them praise the name of the Lord." And Moses also says concerning a girl who was plotted against: "The young woman cried out," that is, the virgin. So that if she was not a virgin, it was not a sign either; for a sign must depart from the common order of things, and transcend the customary course of nature, and be strange and paradoxical, so that each of those who see and hear may take note of it. For this reason it is called a sign, because of its being notable; but it would not be notable if it were to be hidden by its sharing in the common lot of other things. So that if the word were about a woman giving birth according to the law of nature, for what reason does he call a sign that which happens every day? And for this reason also, at the beginning he did not say simply, "Behold, a virgin," but "Behold, the virgin," by the addition of the article hinting at some notable one and the only one such that has come to be among us. For that this addition indicates this, it is possible to learn also from the Gospels. For when the Jews sent to John asking, "Who are you?" they did not say, "Are you the Christ?

But "You are the Christ"? They did not even say, "Are you a prophet?" but "Are you the prophet?"—each of which was something exceptional. This is why John too, at the beginning, did not say, "In the beginning was Word," but "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God." So also here he did not say, "Behold, a virgin," but "Behold, the virgin"—and with the dignity befitting a prophet, the "Behold"; for it was almost as if he were seeing the events and picturing them, and had great assurance concerning what was said. For those men saw more clearly than our eyes things that are not seen. For the senses may well be deceived, but the grace of the Spirit made its declaration free from all deception. And for what reason, he says, did he not add that it would be by the Spirit? What was spoken was a prophecy, and it had to be announced in veiled terms, as I have often said, because of the ignorance of the hearers, lest, learning these things clearly, they should burn up all the books too. For if they did not spare the prophets, much less would they have refrained from the writings. And that what was said is not a conjecture, another king in the time of Jeremiah took the very books and cut them up and handed them over to the fire. Did you see the unbearable madness? Did you see the irrational rage? It was not enough for him to destroy the writings, but he even burned them, wishing to satisfy his irrational passion. But nevertheless, even speaking obscurely, this wonderful prophet indicated the whole. For a virgin, as long as she remains a virgin, from where else could she conceive, if not from the Holy Spirit? For to dissolve the law of nature belonged to no one else but the Creator of nature.

So when he said, "The virgin will conceive," he revealed the whole matter. Having therefore spoken of the birth, he also gives the name of the one who is born, and says, "She will conceive a son, and they will call his name Emmanuel." And how, he says, was his name not called Emmanuel, as the prophet said, but Jesus Christ? Because he did not say, "You shall call," but, "The crowds will call," that is, the outcome of the events. For just as he calls Jerusalem a city of righteousness, although the city was never anywhere called righteousness, but it had this designation from the events, because its change for the better had been great and the protection of the righteous man (for when he also calls it a harlot, it is not as though the city had ever been called so, but he assigns the name from its wickedness; and so too afterward from its virtue)—the same, then, must be said also in the case of Christ, that he has assigned to him the name derived from the events. For then especially was God with us, having been seen on earth and having lived among men, and displaying his great care for us. For no longer was it an angel, nor an archangel, with us, but the Master himself, having come down, undertook the whole work of correction, conversing with harlots, reclining at table with tax collectors, entering the houses of sinners, giving boldness to robbers, drawing the magi, going about and setting all things right, and uniting nature itself to himself. All these things, then, the prophet proclaims beforehand, at once speaking of the birth and of that ineffable and boundless gain of the birth-pangs.

For when God is with men, there is no longer any need to fear or tremble, but to have confidence concerning all things; and this is indeed what came to pass. For those ancient and immovable evils were loosed, and the sentence against the common race was abolished, and the sinews of sin were cut through, and the tyranny of the devil was overthrown, and Paradise, which was inaccessible to all, was opened first to a murderer and a robber, and the vaults of heaven were thrown open, and men were mingled with angels, and our nature was led up to the royal throne, and the prison of Hades was made useless, and death remained thereafter only a name, deprived of the thing itself, and there were companies of martyrs, and women shattered the goads of Hades. All these things, then, the prophet foresaw, and he leaped and danced, and by a single utterance he showed them to us, prophesying to us the Emmanuel. He will eat butter and honey; before he knows or chooses evil, he will choose the good. For before the child knows good or evil, he disobeys evil by choosing the good. Since the child who is born was neither a mere man nor God only, but God in man, the prophet with good reason varies his speech, now saying this, now that, setting forth the paradoxes, and not allowing the dispensation to be disbelieved because of the excess of the wonder. For having said, "The virgin will conceive," which was beyond nature, and that "he will be called Emmanuel," which was itself greater than expectation—

So that no one, on hearing “Emmanuel,” should suffer the passions of Marcion and be sick with the disease of Valentinus because of the economy, he clearly added also the most manifest proof of the economy, confirming it from the table. For what does he say? “He shall eat butter and honey.” But this would not be of divinity, but of our nature. For this very reason he did not simply fashion a man and dwell in him, but he also endured conception, and that of nine months, and birth-pangs and swaddling clothes, and nourishment from the first age, so that through all things he might stop the mouths of those who attempt to deny the economy. Foreseeing these things from above, therefore, the prophet speaks not only of the birth-pangs and the wondrous birth, but also of the nourishment in the first age, the nourishment in the very swaddling clothes, differing in nothing from the rest of men, nor having anything strange in this respect. For neither were all things in him altered, nor were all things common; for to be born of a woman is common, but to be born of a virgin is greater than what is according to us. And again, to be nourished by the common law of nature, and by the same law as the many, is common; but for that temple to be untrodden by wickedness, and not even to come to a trial of wickedness, this is strange and paradoxical and his alone. Therefore he has set down both that and this; for having said, “He shall eat butter and honey,” he added: “For before the child knows good or evil, he refuses wickedness by choosing the good.” Again with the same words he hints at the same meaning, and dwells on the statement. For since what was said was very lofty, he confirms it by the continuity of the narrative.

For what he had indicated earlier by saying, "Before he knew or chose evil," he hinted at this again as he went on, by saying, "Before the child knew," and he has employed the explanation once more, saying, "good or evil, he disobeys wickedness, so as to choose the good." For this alone was his exceptional privilege. Therefore Paul also turns to it continually. For since he was about to die, so that no one of the unbelievers might think that he was paying the penalty for his own sin, he continually brings his sinlessness into the midst, in order to show that his death is the release of our sin. Therefore he also said: "Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more. For in that he died, he died to sin." Nor, he says, did he die that death as one who was liable, according to the account of sin, but for the common transgression of all. If, then, in the former respect he was not liable, it has been abundantly demonstrated that he will no longer die. But these things have been said, as it were, in passing; it is time once again to take up the words of the Gospel: "And Joseph, being raised from sleep, did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took his wife." Observe here also the man's philosophical spirit and his impartiality in all things. For neither, when he suspected something unpleasant and improper, did he endure to keep the Virgin, nor when

He was freed from this suspicion; he submitted to cast it out, but he both holds it fast and serves the whole economy. The evangelist continually sets down the woman's name, not wishing that mystery to be revealed for the time being, and removing the wicked suspicion. But having taken her, he did not know her until she bore her firstborn son. The word "until" is said here, not so that you might suspect that he knew her after these things, but so that you might learn that before the birth pangs the virgin was altogether untouched. For what reason, then, does he say, has he placed "until"? Because it is the custom of Scripture often to do this, and not to place this expression for a definite time; for example, when the raven did not return to Noah until the earth was dried up—and yet it did not return even after these things. And he says also in the Psalms: "The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I place your enemies as a footstool for your feet." And Paul also says: "For he must reign until he has placed all his enemies under his feet." But neither the "until" there nor the "until" here are boundaries of times; since how does that prophetic saying stand which says: "His authority is an eternal authority, and his kingdom is a kingdom which shall not be destroyed, and of his kingdom there shall be no end," if indeed he is going to reign only until these things? So then also here he said "until," securing the things before the birth pangs; but the things after these things he left to you to reason out. For what was necessary for you to learn from him, this he himself has said: that the virgin was untouched until the birth.

But what followed from what was said and was acknowledged, this he leaves to you henceforth to perceive for yourself; for instance, that not even after these things would that man, being righteous, have endured to know henceforth the mother who had come to be in such a way, and had been deemed worthy of strange pangs and unusual childbirths. But when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying: Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star in the east, and we came to worship him. Here some of the enemies of the truth, seizing upon this saying, say: Behold, it says, even when Christ was born, a star appeared, which is a sign that astrology is valid. What then shall we say to these things? Let us make the beginning of the solution from the star itself. For this star was not one of the many, or rather it was not even a star, but some invisible power shaped into this appearance. And this is clear, first, because we see the sun and the moon and the stars moving from the east toward the west; but this one was borne from the north to the south; for thus Palestine lies in relation to Persia. Second, because it did not appear at night, but in the middle of the day, while the sun was shining. Third, from its appearing and hiding. For as long as it appeared, it led the wise men by the hand; but when they entered Jerusalem, it hid itself; then again it showed itself, after they had gone out from Herod; which is not the property of a star, but of some most rational power.

Fourth, from the place of the demonstration; for going down below, he was showing the place. For it was impossible for one remaining above to do this, since the height is boundless, and a place so narrow could not suffice to mark out and make known to those who wished to see. Do you see through how many things this star is shown, being not one of the many, nor showing itself according to the sequence of the birth outside? And for what reason did it appear, he says? So as to strike at the insensibility of the Jews. For since, hearing the prophets continually speaking about his coming, they did not pay much attention, he caused even barbarians to come from a far land, seeking the king who was with the Jews themselves, and from a Persian voice they learn what they did not endure to learn from the prophets; so that, if they are well-disposed, they may have the greatest pretext for believing; but if they are contentious, they may thenceforth be deprived of every defense. But God draws the magi through a star, calling them through the things familiar to them, and shows a great and extraordinary star, so as to strike them with amazement both by its size and by the beauty of its appearance, and by the manner of its course. Since, then, he led and guided them by the hand and set them before the manger, no longer through a star, but through an angel he thenceforth speaks with them. And these he deemed worthy to learn through a star and through an angel, but us through the Only-Begotten himself, the lofty and secret things that surpass our mind. Considering, therefore, the greatness of so great a condescension, let us render to him both the honor and the recompense that is worthy;

No repayment could ever be made to God by us, except only our salvation and that of our souls, and our care for virtue, and our providence toward our brothers. For nothing could be so much a mark and character of the faithful man and lover of Christ as to care for one's brothers and to take thought for their salvation; since Christ also did not please himself, but the many. So also Paul says: I do not seek my own advantage, but that of the many, that they may be saved. Knowing these things, then, beloved, let us order our own life and take great care for our brothers and preserve the unity toward them. For it is to this that that fearful and dreadful sacrifice leads us, commanding us to come to it especially with concord and fervent love, and, having become eagles from here, thus to fly up to heaven itself. For where the body is, he says, there also are the eagles; calling the body a corpse because of the death. For if that one had not fallen, we would not have risen. And he calls them eagles, showing that the one who approaches this body must be lofty and have nothing in common with the earth, nor be dragged below and crawl, but fly upward continually, and look toward the sun of righteousness, and have the eye of the mind sharp-sighted. For this is the table of eagles, not of jackdaws. These also will meet him then as he comes down from the heavens, those who now partake worthily, just as those who partake unworthily will suffer the last things. For if one would not receive a king casually—why do I say a king?

No one, then, would lightly touch a royal garment with unclean hands, even if he were in a desert, even if he were alone, even if no one were present. And yet the garment is nothing other than the threads of worms and moths; and if you marvel at its dye, that too is the blood of a dead fish; but nevertheless no one would choose to dare to touch it with filthy hands. But if no one would dare to touch a human garment lightly, how shall we receive the body of the God over all, the blameless, the pure, the one that dwelt with that divine nature, through which we are and live, through which the gates of death were broken and the vaults of heaven were opened—how shall we receive it with such great insolence? I beseech you, let us not slaughter ourselves through shamelessness, but let us approach him with awe and all purity, so that we may not undergo a harsher punishment. For by as much as we have been benefited greatly, by so much more are we punished more greatly when we appear unworthy of the benefit. For indeed the Magi revered this body even when it lay in a manger, and impious men and barbarians, leaving their homeland and their house, set out on a long journey, and coming with much fear and trembling they worshiped. Let us, then, imitate even the barbarians, we who are citizens of the heavens. For they, seeing him even in a manger and in a hut, and seeing nothing of the sort that you now see, approached with great awe; but you do not see him in a manger, but on the altar, not a woman holding him, but a priest standing by, and the Spirit with great abundance hovering over what is set forth.

You do not see this body in a simple way, as those do, but you know its power and its whole economy, and you are ignorant of nothing that has been accomplished through it, having been initiated with precision into all things. Let us therefore rouse ourselves and shudder, and let us show a reverence far greater than those barbarians, so that we do not approach simply or casually and heap fire upon our own heads. I say this, not so that we should not approach, but so that we should not approach casually. For just as approaching casually is a danger, so too is not sharing in those mystical suppers—famine and death. For this table is the sinews of our soul, the bond of the mind, the ground of our confidence, our hope, our salvation, our light, our life. Having departed to that place with this sacrifice, we shall tread the sacred forecourts with great confidence, fenced on every side as with golden weapons. And why do I speak of what is to come? For here this mystery makes the earth heaven for you. Open, then, the gates of heaven and look through—or rather, not of heaven, but of the heaven of heavens—and then you will see what has been said. For the most precious of all things there, this I will show you lying here on earth. For just as in palaces the most venerable thing of all is not the walls, not the golden ceiling, but the royal body seated on the throne, so too in the heavens it is the body of the King. But this you are able to see on earth. For it is not angels, not archangels, not heavens and heavens of heavens, but the very Master of these that I show you. Do you see how you behold on earth the most precious of all things?

And you do not merely see, but you also touch; and you do not merely touch, but you also eat, and having taken it you depart for home. Purify your soul, therefore; prepare your mind for the reception of these mysteries. For if you had been entrusted to carry a royal child with his adornment and purple robe and diadem, you would have cast away everything on earth; but now, when you receive not a royal child of a man, but the only-begotten Son of God himself, do you not shudder, tell me, and cast out every desire for worldly things, and adorn yourself with that world alone—yet you still look toward the earth, and you love money, and you are excited over gold? And what excuse would you have? What defense? Do you not know how your Master turns away from all worldly luxury? Was it not for this that he was placed in a manger when he was born, and took a lowly mother? Was it not for this that he said to that man who looked to huckstering: The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head? And what of the disciples? Did they not keep the same law, lodging in the houses of the poor? And one stayed with a tanner, another with a tentmaker. For they sought not the splendor of houses, but the virtues of souls. Let us, then, be zealous for these, passing by the beauties of columns and marbles, seeking the mansions above, and let us trample on all the vanity here together with the desire for money, and let us take up a lofty mind. For if we are sober, this world itself is not worthy of us, much less porticoes and promenades.

Therefore, I exhort you, let us adorn our own soul, which we shall also take with us when we depart, so that we may also attain to the eternal tabernacles, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, honor, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. Homily 35. On Repentance. Repentance is terrible and fearful to the sinner, a medicine for transgressions, an expenditure of tears, a payment for lawless deeds, boldness toward God, a weapon against the devil, a sword that cuts off his head, the hope of salvation, the destruction of despair. It is this that opens heaven, this that leads into paradise, this that prevails over the devil. For this very reason I continually bring forward the word concerning it, so that neither the one who sins may despair, nor the one who succeeds may be proud; for let the one who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall, just as being overconfident also causes one to be tripped up. Are you righteous? Do not fall. Are you a sinner? Do not despair. I do not cease continually anointing you with these medicines; for I know how great a weapon it is against

of the devil, is not to despair. If you have sins, do not despair. I will not cease saying these things continually; even if you sin every day, repent every day. Just as we do in old houses: when they have become decayed, we remove the decayed parts and repair them with new ones, and we never release them from continual care. If you have grown old today from sin, renew yourself tomorrow by repentance. And is it possible, he says, for one who has repented to be saved? It is possible, and very much so. I have spent my whole life in sin, and if I repent, am I saved? Very much so. From where is this clear? From the love for mankind of your Master. For do I trust in your repentance? Does your repentance have the strength to wipe away so many evils? If it were repentance alone, you would rightly be afraid; but since the love for mankind of God is mingled with repentance, have courage; for there is no measure to the love for mankind of God, nor can his goodness be expressed in words. For your wickedness has a measure, but the remedy has no measure; your wickedness, whatever it may be, is human wickedness; but the love for mankind of God is ineffable. Have courage, because it prevails over your wickedness. Consider a spark falling into the sea—can it stand or appear? As much as a spark is to the sea, so much is wickedness to the love for mankind of God; or rather, not so much, but far more. For the sea, even if it is great, has a measure; but the love for mankind of God is boundless. I say these things, not so that I may make you more slack, but so that I may make you more zealous. I have often exhorted you not to go up to the theater; did you hear, and were you not persuaded? Did you go up to the theater? Did you disregard my word?

Do not be ashamed to enter again and to listen. "I heard, and I did not keep it," he says; "how can I enter and listen?" For the present, you know this very thing—that you did not keep it; for the present, you are ashamed; for the present, you blush; for the present, with no one reproving you, you wear the bit; for the present, you have my word rooted in you; for the present, though I am not visible, my teaching brings you down. You did not keep it? You have condemned yourself? You kept half; even if you did not keep it, but said, "I did not keep it." For the one who has condemned himself for not keeping it hastens to keep it. Did you look? Did you commit lawlessness? Were you taken captive by the harlot? Did you come down from the theater? Did you remember again? Were you ashamed? Come forward. Were you grieved? Entreat God. But do not stop at this point. "Woe is me, I heard and I did not keep it; how shall I enter the church? How shall I listen again?" Rather, enter because you did not keep it, so that, having listened again, you may keep it. If a physician applies a remedy to you and it does not cleanse you, do you not apply it again the next day? Let there be a certain oak tree; let someone wish to cut down the oak; he takes an axe, he cuts at the root; if he gives one blow and the tree does not fall, does he not give another blow? Not the third? Not the fourth? Not the fifth? Not the tenth? So also do you. The harlot is an oak, a fruitless tree, bearing acorns, food for irrational swine. Over a long time it has taken root in your mind; in the spreading of its branches it has cast down your conscience. My word is an axe; you listened for one day. Does that which has been rooted for so much time fall in one day? For if twice, if three times, if a hundred times, it is not surprising.

Only cut off the evil thing, powerful as it is, and the evil habit. The Jews ate manna, and they kept longing for the onions of Egypt: "It was well with us in Egypt." So powerful a thing is habit, and so very base. For even if you set yourself right for ten days, even if for twenty, even if for thirty—do I not love you? Am I not grateful? Do I not embrace you? Only do not grow weary, but be ashamed and condemn yourself. Again I spoke about love; you heard, you went away and seized it—did you not show the word through your deeds? Do not be ashamed to enter the church again; be ashamed when you sin, not when you repent—but be ashamed when you sin. Consider what the devil has done to you. These two things there are, sin and repentance; sin is a wound, repentance a medicine; in sin, disgrace; in sin, mockery; in repentance, boldness of speech; in repentance, freedom; in repentance, cleansing of the sin. Pay close attention. Shame follows sin, boldness of speech follows repentance. But Satan has reversed the order, and has given boldness of speech to sin, and shame to repentance. I will not desist until evening, until I have undone this very thing. There is a wound, and a medicine; the wound has the putrefaction, the medicine possesses the cleansing of the putrefaction. Is the putrefaction in the medicine? Is the healing in the wound? Do not these things have their proper order, and those things theirs? Can this pass over to that, or that to this? Let us come also to the sins of the soul: sin has shame, sin has disgrace and dishonor allotted together with it.

Repentance has boldness, repentance has fasting, righteousness. For say your lawless deeds first, that you may be justified. A righteous man is his own accuser in the first word. Knowing, then, the devil, that sin has shame, a thing sufficiently able to strike down the one who sins; but repentance has boldness, a thing sufficient to draw the one who repents; he exchanged the order, and gave shame to repentance, and boldness to sin. How, I say. Someone is caught by a harsh desire for a common prostitute; he follows the prostitute as a captive; he enters the brothel; not ashamed, not blushing, he entwines with the prostitute, he commits the sin. Nowhere is there shame for him, nowhere reproach. He goes out from there after the end of the sin; and in order to repent, is he ashamed? Wretched man, when you were entwined with the prostitute, you were not ashamed, but when you came to repent, then are you ashamed? He is ashamed to say that he fornicated, and he blushes; he does the deed, and does not blush, and does he blush at the word? This is the devil's villainy. In sin he does not allow him to be ashamed, but to be made public; for he knows that, if he is ashamed, he flees the sin; and in repentance he makes him ashamed; for he knows that being ashamed he does not repent. He does two evils, both hindering repentance, and drawing him into sin. Why then are you ashamed? When you were fornicating, you were not ashamed; and when he applies the remedy, are you ashamed? When you are freeing yourself from sin, are you ashamed? Then you ought to have been ashamed, then you should have been ashamed, when you were sinning.

When you were a sinner, you were not ashamed, and when you are becoming righteous, are you ashamed? For say your lawless deeds first, that you may be justified. O the loving-kindness of the Master! He did not say, "That you may not be punished," but, "That you may be justified." It was not enough for him that you not be punished, but you even make him righteous—and indeed so. But pay close attention to the word: he makes him righteous. And where did he do this? In the case of the robber: so that he only said, "Do you not fear God?" to his companion—"and we indeed justly, for we receive what is worthy of what we did"—and he says, "Today you will be with me in paradise." He did not say, "I release you from punishment and retribution," but he brings the righteous man into paradise. Did you see a man become righteous from confession? God is very loving toward humanity: he did not spare his Son, that he might spare a slave; he handed over the Only-begotten, that he might purchase ungrateful slaves; the blood of his Son paid the price. O the loving-kindness of the Master! And do not say to me again, "I have sinned greatly, and how can I be saved?" You cannot, but your Master can; and thus he will blot out your sins, so that not even a trace of them remains. For in the case of bodies this is not so; but even if a physician strives ten thousand times, even if he applies medicines to the wound, he makes the wound disappear, but he does not erase the scar; for the weakness of nature, the feebleness of the art, and the cheapness of the medicines resist him. But God, when he blots out sins, does not leave even a scar, nor does he allow a trace to remain.

But along with health he also grants beauty; along with release from punishment he also bestows righteousness, and he makes the one who has sinned to be equal to the one who has not sinned. Is there a sin that has despair, or that conquers the loving-kindness of God? And how was Judas lost? How? Because repentance is not forced. And indeed, hear what the teacher says to him: What shall I do to you, Judas? Do you not know what you will do? I know, but I do not wish it; the nature of sins demands it, and the greatness of loving-kindness holds it back. What shall I do to you? Shall I spare you? But you become more careless. Shall I punish you? But my loving-kindness does not endure it. What shall I do to you? Shall I make you as Sodom, and overthrow you as Gomorrah? But I am a father, and a loving father. Knowing this loving-kindness, then, let us neither despair nor be simply careless; for both of these are destructive. For despair does not allow the fallen to rise; and carelessness makes even the one standing to fall. That one is accustomed to deprive of goods already gained, this one does not allow release from evils that press upon us; and contempt brings one down from the very heavens, while despair leads down into the very abyss of wickedness, just as not despairing makes one quickly run back up from there as well. Consider the strength of both: the devil was good before this; but becoming careless and despairing he fell into such great wickedness as to rise no more. For that he was good, hear what he says: I saw Satan falling from heaven like lightning.

The comparison of lightning shows both the brightness of the former way of life and the swiftness of the fall. Paul was a blasphemer and a persecutor and an insolent man; but since he was earnest and did not despair, he rose up and became equal to the angels. Judas was an apostle, but through laziness he became a traitor. The robber again, after such great wickedness, since he did not despair, entered paradise before all others. The Pharisee, being confident, fell from the very height of virtue; the tax collector, not despairing, was so set upright that he even surpassed that man. Do you want me to show you a whole city that did this? The city of the Ninevites was thus saved entirely; and yet the sentence cast them into despair. For he did not say, "If they repent, they will be saved," but simply, "Yet three days, and Nineveh shall be destroyed." But nevertheless, while God was threatening, and the prophet was crying out, and the sentence had no delay or limitation, they did not fall back, nor did they betray their good hopes. For this reason he did not add a limitation, nor did he say, "But if they repent, they will be saved," so that we too, when we hear a sentence of God being brought without limitation, might not even then despair, looking to that example. For no weapon is so strong for the devil as despair. For this reason we do not gladden him so much by sinning as by despairing. Hear, then, in the case of the man who committed fornication, how Paul feared despair more than the sin. For writing to the Corinthians, he said thus:

It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and such sexual immorality as is not even dared among the Gentiles, but is not even named. For what is unbearable to them even to mention, this you have dared to do in deed. And you are puffed up. And he did not say, "And that man is puffed up," but passing over the one who has sinned, he addresses those who are healthy, just as physicians do, who, leaving aside the sick, use more words with those who are close to them. Besides, these also were the cause of his recklessness, by not rebuking or reproving him. He therefore shared the charge, so that the healing of the wound might become easy. For to sin is terrible, but far worse is to be proud over one's sins. For if being puffed up over righteousness is an emptying of righteousness, much more will this, happening over sins, bring us the utmost harm, and the charge is greater than the sins themselves. For this reason he says: "When you have done all things, say, 'We are unprofitable servants.'" But if those who do all things ought to be humble, much more is the one who has sinned worthy both to mourn and to count himself among the last. Which indeed he was also making clear then when he said: "And have you not rather mourned?" What do you say? Another has sinned, and shall I mourn? Yes, he says; for we are bound to one another like a body and its members; and in the case of the

of the body, even if the foot receives a wound, we see the head bowing down; and yet what is more honorable than it? But it does not see its worth in the time of misfortune; so also do you. For this reason Paul also exhorts us to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with those who weep. But, as I was saying, consider how Paul feared despair, as a great weapon of the devil. For having said, Confirm your love toward him, he adds the reason: Lest perhaps such a one be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. The sheep, he says, is in the wolf's throat; let us therefore hasten, let us snatch it away first, before he swallows and destroys our member. The ship is now in the swell; let us strive to save it before the shipwreck. For just as when the sea is raised and the waves surge up on every side, the vessel is submerged; so also a soul, when despondency surrounds it on every side, is quickly drowned, unless it has someone to extend a hand; and the sorrow that is salutary for sins becomes deadly when it is excessive. Knowing, therefore, what the devil did in the case of Judas, Paul feared lest this should happen here also. And what did he do in the case of Judas? Judas repented; for he says, I have sinned in that I have betrayed innocent blood. The devil heard these words; he knew that he was beginning the road to what is better, and walking toward salvation, and he feared the change. He has, he says, a loving Master; when he was about to betray him, he wept over him and entreated him countless times; will he not much more receive him when he repents? He drew him to himself and called him while he was still uncorrected;

Will he not much more draw to himself one who has been corrected and has recognized his sin? For this is why he came even to be crucified. What then did he do? He troubled him, darkened him by the excess of his despondency, pursued him, drove him, until he led him to the noose, and removed him from the present life, and deprived him of the eagerness that belongs to repentance. For that he too would have been saved if he had lived is clear from those who crucified him. For if he saved those who raised him up onto the cross, and while on the cross itself pleaded with the Father and asked forgiveness for them for their daring, it is evident that he would also have received the traitor with all kindness, if he had shown repentance in the manner that was fitting. But he could not endure to remain in the remedy, swallowed up as he was by his excessive grief. Therefore Paul, fearing this, urges the Corinthians to snatch the man from the throat of the devil. And why need one speak of the Corinthians? Peter, after the communion of the mysteries, denied three times, and by weeping wiped it all away; the harlot by her tears propitiated the Master; Paul, by confessing his sin, became a teacher of those who repent. Taking these plasters, let us heal our own wounds, saying: Heal me, Lord, and I shall be healed; heal my soul, for I have sinned against you. For the physician, having received us, will say: I am he who blots out your iniquities, and I will remember them no more. See how many remedies the physician has prepared for you; choose whichever you wish. He has shown you a variety of aids to match the difference of the wounds.

If you cannot fast as the Ninevites did, at least wash away your sins with tears, as the harlot did; if you cannot show mercy, confess your sins; flee to the mercy of God with David, saying: Have mercy on me, O God, according to your great mercy. For it is not the bite of a viper, that I might apply a remedy to it, nor a stain made from mire, that I might wash it away with water; but the wound is from the bite of the devil, needing the mercy of your love for mankind. Only come near and ask; for the lover of mankind will drop the oil, he who said, If the lawless man turns from his evil way, I will not remember his lawless deeds which he has done. Let us therefore turn back, let us entreat, let us wash away the filth of sin through tears, let us strike the breast, let us beat the forehead, let us come to a sense of what we have sinned, so that we too may hear from the Lord: Today you will be with me in paradise. To whom be all glory, honor, and worship, now and to the endless ages. Amen.

Homily 36. An Encomium on the Holy Apostle Paul. The grace of the Spirit has left us the lives and conduct of the saints written down for this reason: that we, having learned that they accomplished all things of virtue though they were of the same nature as we, might rouse ourselves to the working of it, and kindle a fervent love of love toward them. How then will this come about? If we cling continually to those men, and carrying them about in our mind, we might cling to the same conduct as they. For in this God will be glorified more than by all others together. For if the heavens declare the glory of God, not uttering a voice, but disposing others to this through sight, much more do those who furnish a wondrous life, even if they are silent, glorify God, while others through them glorify God. For heaven, seen for so long, did not greatly persuade one to marvel at its Creator; but the blessed apostles, having preached for a short time, drew the whole inhabited world. And heaven stands keeping its own boundary and rule. But the height of their soul surpassed all the heavens, and its beauty was such that God himself proclaimed it. For the angels marveled at the stars when they were made; but the beauty of the apostles' soul he himself praised, saying: You are the light of the world. And that heaven a cloud often covered; but no trial covered their soul, but even then especially it shone forth. Therefore Paul also said: I take pleasure in weaknesses, in persecutions, in afflictions; and again to the Philippians:

Because I have you in my heart in my bonds; and elsewhere: "That you," he says, "may hear, I am bound"—everywhere putting the bond first; which I greatly love, which stirs up my heart and leads me to desire to bring Paul into the midst, the one who labored more than the others, about whom Christ says: "This man is a chosen vessel to me." For he, at the time of the preaching, was ravaging the Church, entering house after house, dragging off both men and women; but when he drew near to Damascus, suddenly a light shone around him and blinded him. But that blinding became illumination for the whole world. For since he was seeing badly, God blinded him well, so that he might see again profitably, at once giving him a demonstration of his own power, and at the same time prefiguring in the suffering the things to come, and teaching the manner of the preaching—that it is necessary to cast all these things aside from oneself, and to close one's eyes, and to follow him everywhere. Therefore he himself cried out, making this very thing clear: "If anyone among you thinks he is wise, let him become a fool, that he may become wise"—as it is not possible to see again well unless one has first been well blinded, and has cast out the thoughts that trouble him from within, and has entrusted everything to faith. But let no one, hearing these things, think that this calling was forced; for he was able to return again to where he had gone out from. Indeed, many others, having seen greater wonders, turned back again, both in the New and in the Old, such as Judas, Nebuchadnezzar, Elymas the magician, Simon, Ananias, Sapphira, the whole multitude of the Jews. But not Paul.

But when he had recovered his sight, he stretched his course toward the pure light and flew toward heaven. And if you ask why he was blinded, hear him saying: For you have heard of my former conduct in Judaism, that beyond measure I persecuted the Church of God and was ravaging it, and I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my contemporaries in my nation, being more exceedingly zealous for the traditions of my fathers. Since, then, he was so fierce and unapproachable, he needed a fiercer bridle, so that, being carried by the rush of his eagerness, he might not disobey what was said. For this reason, restraining his madness, he first calms the waves of that violent anger through the blinding, and then converses with him, showing the unapproachability of his wisdom and the surpassing greatness of his knowledge; and so that he might learn whom he was fighting against—one whom he could endure not only when he punishes, but not even when he benefits. For it was not darkness that blinded him, but the excess of light that darkened him; and yet he raised him so high that the demons feared his garments. But I do not marvel at this, just as I do not marvel that diseases fled from the shadow of Peter. But this is the wonderful thing, that even before grace he appeared to be doing great things from the very starting line and its beginnings. For though he did not yet have such power, nor had he received ordination, he was so inflamed with zeal for Christ that he stirred up the whole people of the Jews against himself; and seeing himself in such great dangers, so that even the city was besieged, he was let down through a window through the wall;

And even after escaping, he did not fall into hesitation, nor into cowardice and fear, but he received even greater eagerness, yielding to dangers for the sake of the divine plan, yet yielding his teaching to no one, but snatching up the cross again he followed; and yet he still had the example of Stephen, as it were, at his very feet, and saw the Jews, more than all others, breathing murder against him, and desiring to taste his very flesh. From where, then, did it come that he neither recklessly threw himself into dangers, nor again became softer when escaping them? He greatly loved the present life because of the profit that comes from it; and he greatly despised it because of the philosophy that arose in him from that very contempt, or because of his eagerness to depart to Jesus. For what I always say about him, and will never cease saying, is this: no one who fell into such opposite circumstances practiced both to perfection. For no one so desired the present life, not even among those who are exceedingly fond of life; nor did anyone so despise it, not even among those who put themselves to death with excess. So pure was he from every desire, and he clung to none of the things present, but everywhere he blended his own desire with the will of God. And now he says that it is even more necessary than being with Christ and conversing with him, and now he calls it so burdensome and grievous that he groans and hastens toward his departure. For he desired only those things that brought him profit according to God, even if these happened to be contrary to the former things.

For he was versatile and manifold, not acting a part—may that never be!—but becoming all things that the need of the preaching and the salvation of men required, and in this imitating his own Master. For God too appeared as a man when it was necessary for this to appear, and formerly in fire when the time demanded it, and now in the guise of a soldier and warrior, now in the image of an old man, now in a gentle breeze, now as a traveler, now as man himself, and he did not even decline to die in this way. And when I say, "It was necessary," let no one think that this is a matter of compulsion in the words, but only of his loving-kindness toward men. And sometimes he sits on a throne, sometimes upon the Cherubim. And all these things he did with a view to the dispensations that lay before him; therefore he also said through the prophet: "I multiplied visions, and I was likened in the hands of the prophets." Thus Paul also, imitating his own Master, would not have been condemned—now becoming a Jew, now as one without the law; and now he kept the law, now he disregarded the law; and sometimes he clung to the present life, sometimes he despised it; and now he asked for money, now he even refused what was given, and he sacrificed and shaved his head, and again he anathematized those who did so; and now he circumcised, now he cast out circumcision. And the things done were contrary, but the purpose and the mind from which these things were done was wholly consistent and joined to itself; for he sought one thing—the salvation of those who heard and saw these things. For this reason he now exalts the law, now he abolishes it. For not only in those things which

he acted, but even in what he said he was versatile and manifold—not changing his mind, nor becoming one person after another, but remaining what he was, and handling each of his words according to the present need. Therefore no one would err in calling the soul of Paul a meadow of virtues and a spiritual paradise; for so greatly did he bloom with grace, and he displayed a philosophy of soul worthy of that grace. For since he had become a chosen vessel and had cleansed himself well, the gift of the Spirit was poured out upon him abundantly; whence he also brought forth for us those wondrous rivers, not like the fountain of paradise, which has only four, but far more, flowing each day, not watering the earth but stirring up the souls of men to the fruit-bearing of virtue. But so that you may not hear from our tongue the achievements of this blessed man, and the courage which he displayed each day on behalf of the preaching of piety, it is necessary to hear him speaking himself. For when he was compelled, because of the deceit of the false apostles, to recount his own deeds, after saying many other things he began somewhat as follows: Are they ministers of Christ? I speak as one beside himself, I am more: in labors more abundantly, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequently, in deaths often; from the Jews five times I received forty lashes minus one, three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have spent in the deep;

often in journeys, in dangers from rivers, in dangers from robbers, in dangers from my own race, in dangers from the Gentiles, in dangers among false brothers, in dangers in the cities, in dangers in the wilderness, in dangers at sea; in labor and toil, often in watchings, in hunger and thirst, often in fastings, in cold and nakedness, besides the things that are without. And when he said, "Besides the things that are without," he hinted that the things omitted are likely to be more numerous than those spoken of. Then again he says: "My daily pressing upon me, the care of all the Churches." Did you see the breadth of his soul? Did you see the greatness of his mind? For as much land as the sun runs through, sending forth its own rays, so great was the care and solicitude that this blessed man had. Therefore he also said: "Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?" Alas! how great was this man's affection! how great his watchfulness! how great his care! What mother is so torn in her inmost being, while her child is feverish and lying on the bed, as this blessed man was weak on behalf of the sick in every place, and burned on behalf of those who were made to stumble? What word, then, will suffice for his achievements? Or what tongue will be able to attain to his praises? For when one soul has gathered up all the good things that are among men, and all of them in excess, and not only the things of men but also the things of angels, how shall we get the better of the greatness of his praises? Yet we shall not for this reason be silent, but for this very reason most of all we shall speak.

For this too is the greatest form of praise: that the greatness of his achievements surpasses the ease of speech with all its abundance, and our defeat is brighter to us than countless trophies. From where, then, is it timely to begin the praises? And from where else than from himself first must we show the one who possesses the good things of all? For whether prophets displayed something noble, or patriarchs, or righteous men, or apostles, or martyrs, having gathered all these together he possesses them with such surpassing abundance as none of those possessed whatever good each one had. Consider: Abel offered a sacrifice, and from this he is proclaimed; but if you bring Paul's sacrifice into the midst, it is shown to be as much better than that one as heaven is than earth. Which, then, do you wish me to speak of? For it is not only one. For he sacrificed himself each day; and again he made this offering twofold, on the one hand by dying each day, on the other by carrying about the mortification in his body. For he was continually drawn up in battle against dangers, and was being slain by the

by his choice, and he so put to death the nature of the flesh that he was disposed no less than the sacrificed victims, but even far more. For he did not offer oxen and sheep, but he sacrificed himself twice each day. Therefore he also dared to say: For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, calling his own blood a drink offering. Yet he was not satisfied with these sacrifices, but since he had consecrated himself well, he also offered the whole inhabited world, both land and sea, both Greek and barbarian, and simply all this creation, and having become like some winged eagle he went over it, not simply traveling, but pulling up the thorns of sins, and sowing the word of piety, driving out error, bringing back the truth, making angels out of men, or rather making men angels out of demons. Therefore also, when he was about to depart after his many labors and these frequent trophies, consoling his disciples, he said: Even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and rejoice together with you all. And you therefore rejoice and rejoice together with me. What, then, could be equal to this sacrifice, which he offered after drawing the sword of the Spirit? Which he brought to the altar that is above the heavens? But Abel was slain, murdered by Cain, and thereby became more illustrious? But I have counted for you ten thousand deaths, and as many as the days this blessed man lived while preaching. But if you wish to learn of the slaughter that proceeded even to the very experience of it, that man fell by the hand of a brother who had neither been wronged nor benefited;

But he was killed by those whom he was hastening to snatch from countless evils, and for whose sake he suffered all that he suffered. But was Noah, righteous and perfect in his generation, the only such man among all? For Paul too was the only such man among all. And that man saved only himself along with his children; but this man, when a far more grievous flood had seized the whole world, did not build planks and make an ark, but instead of planks composed his letters, and did not snatch two and three and five relatives, but snatched the whole world, which was about to be drowned, from the midst of the waves. For the ark was not of such a kind as to be carried about in one place, but it reached the ends of the world, and it brings all people into this chest even until now, fashioning it in proportion to the multitude of those being saved, and receiving those more senseless than brute beasts, it makes them equal to the powers on high, and in this way it surpasses that ark. That ark received a raven and sent out a raven again, and welcomed a wolf but did not change its beastliness; but this man did not act so, but taking wolves he made them sheep, and taking ravens and jackdaws he made them doves, and casting out all irrationality and beastliness from human nature, he brought in the gentleness of the Spirit. And until now this ark remains sailing and is not dissolved, nor has the winter of wickedness been able to loosen its planks, but while sailing it has put an end to the storm of winter; and very reasonably so, for these planks are anointed not with pitch and bitumen, but with the Holy Spirit.

But we marvel at Abraham, because when he heard, "Go out from your land and from your kindred," he left his homeland and his house, and his friends and relatives, and the command of Christ was everything to him. For we too marvel at this. But what could equal Paul, who left not homeland and house and relatives, but the whole world itself and everything in it for the sake of Jesus, and heaven itself, and the heaven of heaven, and sought only one thing, the love of Jesus? For neither things present, he says, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth will be able to separate us from the love of God. But did that man throw himself into dangers and snatch his nephew from the barbarians? But this man snatched not his nephew, nor three or five cities, but the whole inhabited world, not from barbarians, but from the very hand of the demons, enduring countless dangers every day, and by his own deaths procuring great security for many others. And is the sum of his good deeds and the crown of his philosophy the sacrificing of his son? But here too we shall find the first place belongs to Paul, who sacrificed not a son but himself ten thousand times, as I said before. What would one marvel at in Isaac? Many things indeed, but especially his forbearance, that while digging wells and being driven from his own boundaries, he did not retaliate, but endured seeing them filled in, and continually moved to another place, not always coming to grips with those who grieved him, but withdrawing and yielding his own possessions everywhere, until he satisfied their unjust desire.

But Paul, seeing not wells being filled up with stones, but his own body, did not yield ground like that man only, but entering in, he strove to lead those who were stoning him into heaven. For the more the spring was being buried, the more it burst forth, and it poured out more rivers into endurance. Does Scripture marvel at that man's steadfastness? And what adamantine soul could display the endurance of Paul? For he did not serve twice seven years, but his whole life for the bride of Christ, not only being scorched by the heat of the day and the frost of the night, but enduring countless snowstorms of temptations, now his body being cut by scourges, now by stones, now fighting with beasts, now boxing with the sea, and with continual hunger day and night and cold, and everywhere leaping beyond the barriers, and snatching the sheep from the devil's throat. But was Joseph self-controlled? But I fear it is a laughing matter to praise Paul on that account, he who crucified himself to the world, and saw not only the bright things in bodies, but all things, as we see dust and ashes; and as a dead man would be motionless toward a dead man, so with exactness calming the impulses of nature, he never suffered anything toward human passion. All men are astonished at Job, and very reasonably.

For he was a great athlete, able to look even Paul himself in the face because of his endurance, because of the purity of his life, because of the testimony of God, because of that mighty struggle, because of the wonderful victory that came after the struggle. But Paul did not spend his time contending for many months, but for many years, not melting clods of earth by sweating out moisture, but continually throwing himself into the very intelligible mouth of the lion, and wrestling with countless temptations, he was harder than any rock; not being reviled by three or four friends, but by all the unbelieving false brethren, being spat upon, being insulted. But was the hospitality of Job great, and his kindness toward the needy? We will not deny it; but we will find it as much inferior to Paul's as the body is distant from the soul. For the things that Job showed toward those maimed in the flesh, Paul did toward those crippled in the soul, correcting all who were lame and disabled in their reasoning, and clothing the naked and shameful with the garment of philosophy. And in bodily matters too he surpassed him to the same degree that it is far greater to help the needy while living in poverty and hunger than to do so out of abundance. For Job's house was open to everyone who came, but Paul's soul was spread out to the whole inhabited world, and he received whole peoples, saying: You are not restricted in us, but you are restricted in your own affections. And Job, though he had countless sheep and cattle, was generous toward the needy;

But this man, possessing nothing more than his body, helped those in need from it, and he cries out saying: "These hands have ministered to my needs and to those who are with me," having gained from bodily labor an income for the hungry and starving. But did the worms and the wounds not give Job pains harsh and unbearable? I confess it too. But if you set against them the lashes of Paul over so many years, and the continual hunger, and the nakedness, and the chains, and the prison, and the dangers, and the plots from his own people, from strangers, from tyrants, from the whole inhabited world, and with these the bitterest of all things—I mean the pains he bore for those who were falling, the care of all the Churches, the burning which he endured for each one of those who were caused to stumble—you will see how the soul that bore these things was harder than rock, and conquered iron and adamant; and what that man suffered in his body, this man suffered in his soul, and the despondency over each one of those who stumbled pierced his soul more grievously than any worm. Hence he also sent forth fountains of tears continually, not only by day but also by night; and he was torn more sharply than any woman in labor for each one of them. Therefore he also said: "My little children, for whom I am again in labor." Whom would one marvel at after Job? At Moses, certainly. But he surpassed even this man by far. For great indeed are his other deeds, but the chief and crown of that holy soul is that he chose to be blotted out of the book for the salvation of the Jews.

But this man chose to perish together with others; Paul, however, did not choose to perish together with others, but rather, while others were being saved, to fall himself from that boundless glory. And the one did battle daily with Pharaoh, the other with the devil; and the one labored for a single nation, the other for the whole inhabited world, drenched on every side not with sweat but even with blood in place of sweat, setting right not only the inhabited world but also the uninhabited, not only Greece but also the barbarian lands. It was possible to bring Jesus into the midst as well, and Samuel, and the other prophets; but so that we do not make the discourse too long, let us proceed to their foremost figures; for when he is shown to be greater than these, no dispute concerning the others remains. And who are the foremost? Who else after these than David and Elijah and John? Of whom the one was the forerunner of Christ's first coming, the other of his second; therefore they even shared the same title with one another. What then is David's exceptional quality? His humility and his love toward God. And who achieved both of these more, and who not less, than the soul of Paul? And what is wonderful about Elijah? That he shut up heaven, and brought on famine, and brought down fire? I do not think so; but rather that he was zealous for the Master, and was fiercer than fire. But if you look at Paul's zeal, you will see it prevailing as much as that man surpassed the others. For what could equal those words which, in his zeal for the Master's glory, he spoke, saying: "I could wish to be accursed for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh"?

For this reason, when the heavens were set before him, and the crowns, and the prizes, he was both delaying and lingering, saying: "To remain in the flesh is more necessary for you." For this reason he did not consider the visible creation sufficient for him, nor even the intelligible, for the demonstration of his love and zeal, but he also fashioned another that did not exist by his word, so as to show what he willed and desired. But did John eat locusts and wild honey? But this man spent his time in the middle of the inhabited world, just as that one did in the desert, not eating locusts and wild honey, but setting before himself a table far more frugal than that, and not even having an abundance of necessary food because of his zeal for the preaching. But did this man show great boldness toward Herod? But this man silenced not one and two and three, but ten thousand in that man's time, or rather even far more difficult men than that tyrant. It remains, then, to examine him against the angels; therefore, leaving the earth behind, let us ascend to the vaults of the heavens. But let no one condemn the boldness of the word. For if the Scripture called the priests angels, what is wonderful if we compare the one better than all to those powers? What then

What is their greatness? That they obey God with all strictness. David also, marveling at this, said: "Mighty in strength, doing his word." For nothing is equal to this, even if they are bodiless ten thousand times over; for what most makes these blessed is this, that they are persuaded by his commands, that they nowhere disobey. This, then, can be seen carefully guarded by Paul as well. For he did not merely do his word, but also his commands. And declaring this, he said: "What then is my reward? That in preaching the gospel, I may make the gospel of Christ without charge." What else did the prophet marvel at when he said: "Who makes his angels spirits, and his ministers a flaming fire"? But this too can be seen in Paul. For just like spirit and fire, so he ran through the whole inhabited world, and cleansed the earth. But has he not yet obtained heaven? For this is the marvelous thing, that while on earth he was such, and clothed with a mortal body, he rivaled the bodiless powers. For this reason also, having gone there, he stands near the royal throne, where the Cherubim give glory, where the Seraphim fly. Having gone there, then, we too shall see Paul—even if not standing nearby, we shall certainly see him with Peter and the choir of the saints, being their leader and protector, and we shall enjoy genuine love. For if while here he so loved men that, when there was the option to depart and be with Christ, he chose to be here, much more there will he show his affection more warmly.

I love Rome for this reason also: that he wrote to them while he was still alive, and loved them so, and conversed with them when present, and ended his life there, and they possess his holy body. Therefore the city is more distinguished for this than for all other things; and like a great and mighty body, it has two shining eyes, the bodies of these saints. Heaven is not so bright when the sun sends forth its rays, as the city of the Romans, sending forth these two torches everywhere throughout the inhabited world. From there Paul will be caught up, from there Peter. Consider and shudder: what a sight Rome will see—Paul suddenly rising from that tomb with Peter, and being taken up to meet Christ; what a gift Rome sends to Christ, what crowns the city wears, two of them, what golden chains it is girded with, what fountains. For these things I marvel at the city, not for the abundant gold, not for the columns, not for the other display, but for these pillars of the Church. Who will now grant me to be poured over the body of Paul, and to be fastened to the tomb, and to see the dust of that body, of him who filled up what was lacking in Christ, who bore the marks, who sowed the proclamation everywhere? The dust of the mouth through which Christ spoke, through which he spoke before kings and was not ashamed, through which we learned Paul, through which we learned Paul's Master? Thunder is not so fearful to us as that voice was to the demons.

Just as lightning flashing from heaven strikes those who see it, so the voice of Paul struck the devil with terror, and like the fall of a thunderbolt it descended upon his ranks. For he did not stand against him in battle array, but so feared and trembled that if he saw even a shadow or heard a voice, he fled far away. For if he shuddered at his garments, much more at his voice. This voice led him bound, this voice cleansed the inhabited world, this voice loosed diseases, cast out wickedness, brought back truth, had Christ seated within it, and went forth everywhere with him; and what the Cherubim are, this the voice of Paul was. For just as he sat upon those powers, so also upon the tongue of Paul. For it became worthy to receive Christ, uttering the things that were dear to Christ, and flying up to unspeakable height, like the Seraphim. And I wished to see the dust not only of that mouth but also of that heart, which no one

I would have counted it a sin to say that the heart of the world, the fountain of ten thousand good things, the beginning and element of our life. For the Spirit of life was supplied from there to all, and was distributed to the members of Christ. This I longed to see, even dissolved—the one higher than the heavens, the one broader than the world, the one brighter than the ray, the one hotter than fire, the one firmer than adamant, the one deemed worthy to kiss Christ as no other has kissed him. I wished to see the dust of the hands that were in chains, through which the Holy Spirit was supplied by the laying on of hands, through which the divine letters were written—those hands which the viper saw and leaped into the fire. I wished to see the dust of the eyes that were blinded well, that regained sight for the salvation of the world, that were deemed worthy to see Christ even in the body, that see earthly things and do not see, that behold things not seen, that do not know sleep, that keep watch in the middle of the night, that do not suffer the afflictions of the eyes. I wished also to see the dust of those feet that ran around the world and did not grow weary, that were bound in the wood when the prison shook, that went about the world and the uninhabited places, that traveled often. And why need I speak in detail?

I wished to see the tomb where the weapons of righteousness lie, the weapons of light, the members that are now alive but were dead when they lived, the members of Christ, those clothed with Christ, the temple of the Spirit, the holy building, those bound by the Spirit, those nailed fast by the fear of Christ, those bearing the marks of Christ. This body fortifies that city, being safer than any tower and ten thousand walls; and along with it, the body of Peter. For while he was alive he honored him: for I went up to Jerusalem to visit Peter. For this reason grace also deemed him worthy, when he had departed, to make him a fellow-dweller with him. Let us, then, imitate him too; for he too was a man, sharing the same nature as we, and having all other things in common. But since he displayed great love for Christ, he transcended the heavens and stood with the angels. So that, if we too wish to rouse ourselves a little and to kindle that fire in us, we shall be able to emulate that holy man. For if this were impossible, he would not have cried out saying: Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ. Let us therefore not merely marvel at him nor be astonished, but also imitate him, so that we may be deemed worthy, even after departing from here, to see him and to share in the ineffable glory; of which may we all be deemed worthy, by the grace and love for mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be the glory, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

WORD 37. On silence and secrets. A word simply let slip has overturned entire households, and has destroyed and sunk souls. The loss of money can be recovered again; but a word that has once leapt out cannot be recovered again. You heard a word, it says: let it die with you. Quench it, bury it, do not allow it to go out, nor to stir at all. Kill what was said, hand it over to forgetfulness, so that you may become like those who never heard it. Most people, when they have spoken some secret, beg and swear the hearer to tell no one else thereafter—by this very act showing that they have done something deserving of blame. For if you beg that man to tell no one else, how much more should you yourself not have said these things first? For if you wish the word not to be carried out to another, do not speak it yourself either; but when you have handed over the guarding of the word to another, you are doing pointless and useless things in commanding and swearing oaths for the keeping of what has been said. But is it pleasant to speak ill? No—it is pleasant not to speak ill. For the one who speaks ill is henceforth in a contest, suspecting and fearing, repenting and devouring his own tongue, fearing and trembling lest the word, carried out to others, bring upon him great danger; but the one who keeps it to himself lives in great security, with great pleasure. For it is impossible for a man who busies himself with the lives of others to ever take care of his own life. For since all his zeal is spent on busying himself with the affairs of others, his own affairs must necessarily lie neglected and uncared for.

But the one who bitterly scrutinizes other people's affairs will never obtain any forgiveness for his own offenses. For God will bring his verdict not only from the nature of the offenses we have committed, but also from the judgment he makes concerning others. To him be the glory and the power, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen. WORD 38. On not being ashamed to confess the precious cross, and that through it Christ saved us, and that we ought to boast in it, and on virtue, and how he longs for our salvation, and on almsgiving. This, my brothers, is the sign that the Master promised to give to all, saying: An evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign, and no sign will be given to it except the sign of Jonah the prophet—meaning the cross, and the death, and the burial, and the resurrection. And again, in another way declaring the power of the cross, he said: When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he—that is, When you have crucified me, he says, and think you have prevailed over me, then most of all will you know my power. And Christ spoke well. For after Christ was crucified, the Jewish customs ceased, the preaching flourished, the word was stretched out to the ends of the world, and land and sea, inhabited and uninhabited, proclaim his power continually. Let no one, then, be ashamed of the august symbols of our salvation, and of the sum of all good things, for which we both live and for which we exist; but as a crown, so let us carry about the cross of Christ. For all our affairs are accomplished through it.

And if it is necessary to be reborn, the cross is present; if to be nourished with that mystical food, if to be ordained, if to do anything else whatsoever, everywhere the symbol of our victory stands before us. For this reason, in our houses, on our walls, on our doors, on our foreheads, and on our minds we inscribe it with great zeal. For this is the sign of the salvation won for us, of our common freedom, and of our Master's clemency: For as a sheep he was led to the slaughter. Whenever, then, you seal yourself, consider the whole meaning of the cross, and quench your anger and all the other passions; whenever you seal yourself, fill your forehead with great confidence, make your soul free. You surely know what things it is that grant us freedom. Therefore Paul also, urging us toward this—toward the freedom, I mean, that is proper to us—led us up in this way, reminding us of the cross and the Master's blood: For, he says, you were bought with a price; do not become slaves of men. Consider, he says, the price paid on your behalf, and you will be a slave of no man; calling the blood shed through the cross a price. For it is not simply with the finger that one must trace it, but first with the will, with great faith, and so imprint it on one's sight. None of the unclean demons will be able to stand near you, seeing the sword in which it received its wound, seeing the blade in which it took its death-blow. For if we, when we see places where condemned men are cut down,