In illud Si qua in Christo nova creatura

8. By the same author, on the text: "If anyone is in Christ, a new creation; the old things have passed away; behold, everything has become new." A farmer has great eagerness to cast the seeds when he sees the field cleared, and neither a multitude of thorns spoiling the growth of the plants, nor a stone obstructing the plow; but there is greater ease for one who is about to cast the word when he sees a prepared hearer. I say this not because the rich are absent, displaying the philosophy of the poor in the discourse of hearing. For there is need not only of the speaker, but also of the one who listens intelligently; for Scripture seeks both, a wise teacher and an intelligent hearer, so that our labor may not become superfluous through the indifference of the hearers. For worry does not allow what is said to enter the mind, but steals away the attention of the hearers. Since, then, I see all prepared—for I do not know the secrets of each one's mind, but I observe each one's eyes, and I see the eyelids standing like horns, and the steadiness of the eye indicating to us the steadfastness of the mind, and each mind freed from worldly cares, each one considering only this, pondering this, how to receive what is said—stretch your mind even more; spread open the fold of your soul, so that the seeds may be cast with ease. For after a long time I wish to let my tongue loose at Paul's table; for I will not cease calling him thus: the commoner, the obscure, the low-born, the tentmaker.

These are my advantages, these are my boasts: that I have such teachers, who shine not with worldly advantages but with spiritual achievements. If the Greek says to me, "Whom do you have as a teacher?" I say, the tentmaker himself; and whom else? the fisherman; and whom else? the tax collector; and whom else? the Magi and the prostitute; and whom else? the robber; and I am not ashamed, but I even pride myself. "Do you pride yourself on having a marketplace teacher?" Yes, very much. Why? For if the lowliness of the disciple shows the power of the teacher, the lowliness of the teacher shows that the proclamation is divine. For even if men proclaimed it, yet men did not discover it; for even if men sowed it, yet men did not generate it. Men are instruments, God is the craftsman; they are the lyre, that mighty hand moved the string. And for this reason that Prophet, although he was a king, clad in purple and wearing a diadem, and conversing with the whole world, setting aside worldly pomp, so that no one might think he spoke royal words: "My heart has belched forth a good word; I speak my works to the King. My tongue is the pen of a scribe." Why do you call it a pen? So that you may learn that the letters are not mine, but belong to the hand that holds it. For the pen does not write of itself, but according to whatever the holding hand wishes. And my tongue is a pen; for the Holy Spirit holds it. Therefore, when the Greek says to you, "Who is your teacher?" do not be ashamed nor blush, but say:

The commoner, the tentmaker, the one who stood in the marketplace, the one who stitched hides. And your teacher, who is he? Plato, Pythagoras—not a commoner, but a philosopher. But if I say, "Your teacher, who is he?" A philosopher; your teacher is of noble birth, your teacher is wealthy, your teacher has a sharpened tongue, flowing more than rivers, enjoying honor, having the distinction of ancestors, honored everywhere; mine is the opposite. Thus the victory becomes clear to us. How? Because the commoner conquered the philosopher, the poor man conquered the rich man, the tongueless man conquered the one flowing more than rivers, the scourged man conquered the one who suffered nothing. The battle line is uneven, so that the trophy may be more splendid. Mine speaks ungrammatically, yours speaks Attic Greek; the one speaking ungrammatically conquered the one speaking Attic Greek; he speaks ungrammatically in tongue, but philosophizes in mind; I have no need of words, but I need thoughts. Mine conquered yours; how? The layman conquered the wise man, the rustic conquered the orator. And from where, he says, is it clear that he conquered? Shameless one, do you not see the things crying out? Where is Plato? Nowhere; where is Paul? In the mouths of all. Where is Plato? He is silenced and consigned to oblivion; and where is Paul? He has seized the imperial city of Rome, which he not only controlled while living, but also prevailed over after death. The body died so that he might live in spirit; the paper was torn apart, and the letters remain; for they were not written in ink, but were fixed in spirit. It is easier to transgress the sun than the words of Paul. For what does the one who granted him the words say? "The heaven and the earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away." If they are words, refute them; but if they are deeds, worship them.

The heaven and the earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away. It is easier for the sun to be extinguished and the heaven to vanish than for the sayings of my Master to be overthrown. And the experience of events, the length of time, and the assaults of those who wage war bear witness to this; for the remarkable thing is that not only has it not been overthrown, but that even while being attacked it prevails. Pay close attention to what I say. Paul spoke, John spoke—the fisherman and evangelist, the one who cast the net and took up the Gospel, the one who left the fishing rod and took up the teaching word. What did the fisherman speak, and what did he say? Let us see if I am fishing for the words of a fisherman, and not of a fisherman—of a fisherman, because that mouth spoke them; not of a fisherman, because the words were of the Spirit. For what does he say? "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." What does the Jew say? He boasts greatly of Moses, because he split the sea, divided and closed the deep, changed the air, cut out rock, brought down manna, destroyed cities with their men, and won wars without weapons.

Therefore, do you think highly of yourself? Hear what Moses said and what the fisherman said, so that you may see the poverty of the Old Testament and the abundance of grace. What did Moses say? In the beginning God made the heaven and the earth. What did the fisherman say? He does not place "He made" anywhere, but what? In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. That one begins from creatures, and this one from the Creator. Do you see how he rises higher than Moses? He heard Moses saying that God made the heaven; he left the heaven and ascended higher. Angels met him, and he passed by; archangels, and he passed through; the Cherubim, and he did not stop there. Where are you going? I seek something else; if the Cherubim shine, they are works; if the Seraphim sing, they are my fellow servants. What do you seek? If there are Thrones and Dominions, these too are slaves, these too are creations; if there are Powers, these too are products. Where are you going? I seek the Creator himself, I seek the one consubstantial with the Father; I will not stop until I find him, as far as it is possible for a human to find. Moses spoke about the heaven and stopped; for he did not have the spirit that I have; for he did not receive the spirit of slavery into fear, but he received the spirit of adoption into obedience of faith. I was entrusted with greater things. For this reason my Master descended from above downward, so that I might ascend from below upward. What do you seek? The Creator himself; when I find him, then I stop. He found him, and what does he say? In the beginning was the Word. Nowhere "he made," nowhere

it came to be; for the teaching is not about creations. Behold the Word: "In the beginning was the Word." How many tyrants, from the time the fisherman uttered this saying, wished to destroy it, and were unable? But wherever you go, you hear that "In the beginning was the Word"; whether in a country or in a city, it has preceded you, "In the beginning was the Word"; and in Persia, and in India, and in the land of the Moors, this saying shines more clearly than the sun. For the sun shines by day, but is hidden by night; but the saying, even by night, emits its own radiance, inscribed in the mind of each person. The one who wrote it died, and the saying shines; the body of the one who spoke it dissolved, and the saying flourishes beyond the sun. Wherever you go, the saying has preceded you, "In the beginning was the Word." And each person—both woman and man, both slave and free, both king and commoner, both rulers and ruled—meditates on it in their heart, and no one can erase this most beautiful inheritance, but it remains, preserving its wealth. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. The devil was unable to erase a saying; why? Because it is not a mere saying, but a saying of God. Do not, therefore, be ashamed when you hear: "These things the fisherman uttered, these things the one who mends nets spoke." Do you see how he sat at the very depth of poverty and rose to the summit of virtue? But lest, having begun with one subject, we be carried away to others by the momentum of what is said, abandoning the thoughts to roll away, let us use a bridle on the tongue and bring the subject back to our earlier promise. What, then, does the tentmaker, the man of the marketplace, say?

For I will not cease to sound these words constantly, because of the folly of the many and their unphilosophical opinion. For when many in the marketplace, after they insult, say, "Marketplace man?" What is "Marketplace man"? What is a marketplace man? Tell me: is being a marketplace man a crime? Is standing in the marketplace and working a crime? The crime is to stay indoors and seize the property of others. Learn what insult is and what praise is, and do not mock: being a marketplace man is not a crime, but being a robber, being a greedy person, is. What good do you do me by sitting in a chamber, if you are a wolf? And what harm does the poor man standing in the marketplace, imitating an ox and a plowman, do me? Are you a marketplace man? Are you a manual laborer? These are not crimes; these are praises, because you gather your sustenance from just labors, not meddling in the houses of others. So being a marketplace man is not a crime, nor is being a manual laborer; but what is a crime? Living idly—if only one were idle and not working evilly. Paul was a marketplace man, and he stood at his workshop; and he was not such before the Gospel; after the Gospel he changed. But he both preached and sewed leather; he preached and stayed with Priscilla and Aquila, because of the common trade; for they were tentmakers by craft. O the philosophy of Paul! O the lofty mind and unconquerable spirit! O the intellect touching the vault of heaven! O the soul looking down upon all visible things! O the spirit! He considered the fantasies of life as a spider's web.

He did not go to kings, nor did he go to the rich, nor did he go to the wealthy, but he went to tentmakers because of the common trade, and he was not ashamed to reveal his own occupation, but made this evident to all. He stood in the marketplace proclaiming the Gospel, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and he was not ashamed of the place, but took pride in the manner, and he stood in the marketplace. And one was selling hides, and others said, "Raise the dead man." And two women stood there, one saying, "Make my hide into a mattress," and the other saying, "Raise my son," and he answered both. And this did not hinder that, but his hands worked, and the grace was active, and the tentmaker answered both, providing to one what came from his craft, and to the other what came from grace. What do you want? I make the hide into a mattress, for I sew hides. What do you want? I cause your dead to be raised, for I call upon God. The craft is no disgrace. He did not go to a rich and wealthy house, for he was fulfilling the Lord's law which says, "Into whatever city or house you enter, ask who is worthy in it, and stay there." And was the tentmaker worthy of Paul? Yes, very much. Why not? Because he was a tentmaker in respect to love of poverty. Shall I tell you his praise, better than a diadem, more brilliant than a purple robe? "Greet Priscilla and Aquila." And he places the woman before the man, so that you may learn that virtue is greater in the woman. "Greet Priscilla and Aquila," writing to the Romans, who for the sake of my life submitted their own necks. Do you see the praise?

Did you see living witnesses? Those who placed their own necks beneath the knife for my soul. A perfect martyrdom, not by the shedding of blood, but by the intention of the mind. Do not tell me, "They were not slaughtered"; for even if they were not slaughtered in experience, they were slaughtered in purpose. And God does not seek the outcome, but the preparation; since also Abraham slaughtered his son, although he did not actually slaughter him, for the knife was pure. And He says: "You did not spare your beloved son for my sake; you did not spare him in intention, and I spared him in experience." Those who placed their own necks beneath the knife for my soul. They received the Apostle with blood. Do you understand what I said? For they did not sacrifice pigs and birds for him, but they poured out their own blood. O excess of hospitality! If others give ten obols, they do not deign to be troubled; those people poured out their own blood and despised their present life. The hospitable person appears thus, not like those now, with a grim face and raised eyebrows, if they give ten obols to a poor man, and these through a servant. But these people did not do that; they themselves became servants. So also Abraham and Sarah; for she kneaded the flour, not according to the softness of women now, who, by their gold and silk garments, render their nature softer. But she performed the work of a mill-girl. And her husband says to her: "Hurry and knead three measures of fine flour." And she did not say: "Are these things bearable? Did you take me, a relative, as a baker? Did I not bring a dowry? Am I not free? Do you command me to do the work of servants? Did I come to your house with these expectations?

None of these things did she say, but she hastened and kneaded; for she was the wife of Abraham, not only by the law of life, but also by the virtue of her deeds. "Let the hospitality be common," she says, "and let us together gather the fruit." "It is a treasure," she says; "let us partake together; I the calf, you the flour." She sacrificed a calf, and she took Isaac; she kneaded the flour, and her offspring became as the stars of the sky and as the sand of the sea. I say these things humbling human vanity, and debasing the arrogance of all the wealthy, and comforting the poor, so that no one may be submerged in poverty nor puffed up in wealth; for both are hindrances to virtue. Reason holds the place of a helmsman, neither submerged by the storm nor enervated by the calm, but preserving its own philosophy equally in times of unevenness, never shaken by the difference, nor becoming this or that; just as Job was neither blasphemous in poverty nor arrogant in wealth, but when he was rich, he opened his door, and when he became poor, he opened his own sides; then he was a lover of the poor, later becoming a philosopher, trampling upon the difference of worldly things. But since we have said so much about the tentmaker, come, let us also take up some of the things that have been said, bringing a few words into the midst, but opening up for ourselves a vast sea of thoughts.

Such is the treasure of the Scriptures: they display their abundance to you not by the multitude of words, but by the power of the thoughts. What then does the tentmaker say—the mouth filled with holiness, the tongue terrible to death? What does that right hand write, which is adorned with a chain and clothed in bonds, and raises the dead? What does it write? What does the tongue say? What does the right hand write? "We, even if we have known Christ according to the flesh, now no longer know him." Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, a new creation. Pay attention: we are descending into depth. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, everything has become new, and everything is from God. A treasure, then, hidden, but let us dig it up, and the depths to the depth; for it is not a depth that holds darkness, but a depth that gushes light. Even if the discourse is obscure, I will try to make it easy for both the layman and the poor man, the servant and the cook, the sailor and the woman, the free man and the slave. For the things of God lie before all in common, overshadowed by obscurity, but rendered easily comprehensible by interpretation. And if there is any slowness, I will make the table clearer by the ease of teaching; only provide me with an attentive mind, and do not grow soft in any way, for I have had experience of your obedience in respect to the mind. Therefore, I have often attempted difficult thoughts, not expecting them to be easily grasped, but seeing from the zeal in your listening that difficult things become easy. Let the mind be sober, and nothing is difficult; let the purpose be concentrated, and everything is clear.

Therefore, "if anyone is in Christ, [he is] a new creation"; the old things have passed away. When Greeks read these things, they laugh and mock us. "Such things," they say, "Paul says: 'If anyone is in Christ, a new creation.' You boast, O Paul (I speak their words), puffing us up with hopes; you have raised our minds, filling our ears with a new concept: 'If anyone is in Christ, a new creation.' First, learn not to be simply blinded; you are throwing yourself into a pit. Do you not know what you have heard? For a psychic man does not receive the things of the spirit; to him it is folly. Do you not know the treasure? The treasure has thorns and stones on top, but when it is dug up, pearls are found below. Do not look simply at the words, but at the thoughts; do not look at the words. Learn with certainty what 'new creation' is, learn what 'in Christ' means; learn and descend into the light. For often a child sees a king passing by and laughs, and the king sees him and it does not concern him; for the blame is not the king's, but the defect of the child's incomplete age. Come, let me lead you into the inner sanctuary; do not simply observe from the forecourts; come, I will unveil to you the whole secret of the mysteries. "And what," he says, "do you have to tell me? Did he not say that there is a new creation among Christians?" Certainly. "Then show me," he says, "a new creation; show me that a new heaven came into being, that before the arrival of Christ there was one kind, and after this another came into being; that there is another sea, other seeds, another nature, other fruit, other rivers, other winds. For all these things are old, and you say that there is a new creation?" Be patient; do not rage.

The more you argue, the more the abundance of truth bursts forth. "Am I not mad?" he says, "Do I not argue? See, I am quiet." Be quiet; I will ask you. Ask. He says, "Before Christ came, was the heaven different, and after he came did it become different? And before he came in the flesh, the same heaven existed, and after he came, the same heaven remained, and earth and sea and air and winds. What then," he says, "does Paul boast, saying: 'If anyone is in Christ, a new creation; the old things have passed away'? Behold, everything has become new. I," he says, "see nothing new." For you do not have eyes to see; come, I will make you eyes and you will see. "And you make eyes?" Certainly. "And you are a creator?" Certainly. "You are mad?" No. "Then make eyes for the body." But the greater thing, for the mind. "And you make me eyes?" Certainly. "Do I not have them?" No. "Since you have eyes, and I do not; how? Tell me." When you go into a temple, and see there a naked statue, a voiceless stone, and you say, "This is a god," do you have eyes? When you call a stone a god, how do you have eyes? What use are the external eyes, when the inner ones are blinded? Do you see that you need me to make you eyes, so that you may see the stone as stone, so that you may not mix the unmixable, so that you may not bring together the separate? Do you have eyes, when you see wood and worship it, and I take it and burn it, do you not have eyes when you call the burning thing a god, when you deify passions? A man gets drunk and staggers, and becomes a beast instead of a man from the drunkenness.

But you say that drunkenness is a god, and you call it Dionysus; that fornication is a god, and you call it Hermes. When, then, you deify passions and pieces of wood, how do you have eyes? You do not see what is visible, and you expect me to believe what is not visible? Do you see that you need eyes? Dionysus is a rotten stone, and Aphrodite is a piece of wood. Do you not believe my words? Believe the axe: I push it and I throw it down; give me fire, and I burn it. This is a passion of drunkenness; the law punishes these things, and you deify them? Do you not have eyes? Do you see that I need to make eyes for you through speech? For the Jews were also like that: they had eyes and did not see; the blind man did not have them, and he saw. Christ says to the blind man, "Do you believe in the Son of God?" And he says, "I believe," and he prostrated himself; but the Jews, who saw, crucified him. The blind man prostrates himself, and the one who sees crucifies. For this reason he says, "I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who see might become blind." Do you not have eyes? Do you wish, then, that I should construct eyes for you through speech, eyes of understanding, eyes that see the invisible? For such are the eyes of us who see by faith: they do not see what is seen, but what is not seen. If you wish to follow along, follow; but if you do not wish, I do my part, I teach.

For the word is varied, transforming opposites, correcting its own, and many-sided and complete from every angle. So that if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation; the old things have passed away, behold, everything has become new. O mouth! O splendor! For I see the treasure before I uncover it; I see the whole vessel of the Creator. O eyes, what things they see! Stretch yourself toward me, arise. Creation is called in Scripture not only the bringing of non-being into being, but also the change of what exists for the better. It is said briefly, but it must be stated more clearly. God is said to create not only when he works what is not, but also when he corrects and cleanses what exists that is distorted or defiled. For example: God created man, that is, to work what is not; and when he makes the wicked man good, here there is a change of things for the better; there is a bringing of non-being into being, here a change of what exists, which is perishing, for the better. And so that you may learn that creation is called not only the bringing of non-being into being, but also when something defiled and distorted is corrected and cleansed, listen to David speaking. For since he himself and his heart had been created, but it had been defiled by adultery and murder, he therefore entreats God and says: Create a pure heart in me, O God. Was he then without a heart before this? How then did he bring down Goliath? How did he please God? He is not speaking about the substance of the heart, but about the best conduct of life.

Behold, then, creation is spoken of, not as the bringing of substance from non-being into being, but as the change of that which exists, though corrupted, into something better. When you see someone licentious become temperate, say, "His mind has been created"; when you see a prostitute become chaste, say, "Her mind has been created"; when you see a rapist become merciful, say, "His heart has been created." For the wolf has become a sheep, the hawk has become a dove. For this reason it is called creation. For this reason also the bath of regeneration is called a creation. For, it says, putting off the old man, the one that is perishing according to the desire of his flesh, and putting on the new man, the one that has come to be according to the image of the one who created him. So that his creation is the thing made; for they were created in Christ Jesus for good works, first for perishable works. Then the Father took clay and made man; the Son takes water and makes it wine. There there is an element, and here an element; an exchange of element, and a better making. So that, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation. Do you see, then, that there is a new creation? For what benefit is it to me if a heaven comes to be? Pay close attention: A new heaven did not come to be, nor a new sun, nor a new earth. For what benefit is it to me if a new heaven came to be, while I was going to be in sins? What does it benefit or harm me that the heaven remains, when I do not remain the same? The heaven is a house, but I am sick.

If, then, you see a physician entering a house, taking no care for the sick person, but whitewashing the walls and gilding the ceiling, do you not say, "Man, raise up the sick person? Why are you beautifying the house?" And Christ entered this world, in which he found my nature lying sick. Pay attention again to what I say: A physician enters a great house, finds a man sick, feverish, having sores; does he abandon the sick man and set to work? Does he whitewash the walls? Does he gild the ceiling? Does he beautify the floor? No; but he takes no account of the house, and uses all his zeal for the sick man. If the master of the house becomes healthy, the other things follow. So also here. Christ entered the world; he took on flesh, and he is everywhere present always; and Scripture calls his entry the economy. He entered this great world, which he himself constructed; he found the nature of human beings sick, sick not lying on a bed, but cast down in vice, the common limb corrupted, altars being kindled, smoke polluting the air, children being slaughtered by their parents, nature being trampled, the laws of substance being shaken, sympathy being dishonored: They sacrificed their own sons and daughters to the demons.

people driven mad by licentiousness—one a fornicator, another an adulterer, another a murderer—the whole earth perishing, with men lying on the bed of wickedness, the devil standing by, kindling the furnace, filling the wounds, the physicians powerless—I mean the prophets—accusing but not correcting, the physicians sitting by, preparing drugs but not helping, and all accusing. There is not a single just man, there is no one who seeks God. The physician does this? What hope is there, then, when the physician accuses the patient? One said: "Horses became mad for females, each one neighed at his neighbor's wife." Another sat in the desert like a crow: "Alas, that piety has perished from the earth, and there is no one who does right among men." Another: "Curse and falsehood and theft and adultery are poured out upon the earth; each one oppresses his neighbor." Another: "Woe to the sinful nation." The physician goes out weeping. What hope does the sick man have when he sees the physician weeping? What hope do you have when you see the one who has given up? What good can you expect concerning the sick man? Yet physicians often, even when they know the end, overcome their emotion by philosophy, so as not to grieve the relatives, and

they show a cheerful face in their own judgment, so as not to cast down the spirits of the sick. For when the sick man sees the physician distorting his expression, what good can he hope for? But here the disease has so prevailed that the physician himself weeps: what am I to do? Wounds, putrefaction, worms, countless evils. Woe to the sinful nation! And another wrote entire laments, Jeremiah: one mourns, another laments, another exhorts; God from above: I have abandoned my house. What hope remains, when God says, I have abandoned everything, I have left my inheritance, I have given my beloved soul into the hands of my enemies? Elijah from below: Lord, they have demolished your altars and killed your prophets, and I have been left utterly alone, and they seek my life. If these things happened in Judea, where there was law, where there was a temple, where there was an ark, where there was Jewish sacrifice—what was it where there were idols, where there were the savor of burnt fat and smoke, lawless rites, impieties; where passions were deified, where they imitated the barking of dogs, those who raved in the rites of Dionysus with goatskin and dog's bark, so as to lose their nobility from every side? The devil made them dogs, made them swine, made them snakes, fashioned them into white asps. The law is weak, the prophets accuse. What then, wretch? Having entered and found the inhabited world so afflicted, was he going to adorn heaven and abandon the sick? But he did not do this; rather, he ran to the sick one, for whose sake heaven exists, for whose sake earth and sea and air and all else exist. For this reason he did not even assume the form of heaven.

For he was not going to treat the sky, but a human being. For this reason he recovered the kinship of the sick man, and comes as that very sick man himself, though he himself is not sick: for he committed no sin, nor was any guile found in his mouth; but he came having a vessel akin to that man's nature. He did not come with his divinity naked, lest the sick man flee, lest he scare away the prey; but just as a physician, often noble and illustrious, having the renown of ancestors and clothed in silken garments, when he enters to a poor sick man in need of surgery or something else, strips off his garments and abandons his renown, takes a towel, girds himself, about to cauterize, about to cut, and does not seek his own dignity but the care of the sufferer—so also did the Master of the angels, whose glory is ineffable: he came down as a man, girded himself with a towel, girded himself with our nature, the rich man became poor, not losing his wealth but hiding his wealth. "For you know," he says, "the grace of the Lord, that for our sake he became poor, though rich, so that we might be enriched by his poverty." Do you see poverty as the mother of wealth? Do you see penury as the foundation of abundance? The rich man became poor so that I, the poor man, might become rich. As a physician he girded himself with a towel. Where did he come down? He girded himself with a towel; the covering of his nature was not enough for him, but he also assumed the form of a slave, not only the nature of a slave.

He came, then, and found our nature sick, and became what I am, though without sin. He came into the hut where I lay. He saw worms, he saw putrefaction, he saw much foulness, the law not helping, the prophets accusing, sin pressing down, the desire of the sick man disorderly, unwilling to practice self-control, nor tolerating the physicians. "You shall not kill"—this man killed. "You shall not commit adultery"—each one neighed after his neighbor's wife. "You shall not steal." Curse and falsehood and adultery and theft are poured out over the earth. The physician said one thing, and the sick man did another. What was to happen? The physician commanded, the sick man did not obey. The disease increased, the slave-dealer devil remained, like a runaway slave. "What do you want? I give you a cold drink. What do you want? I give you meat, I give you things that ruin your stomach, things contrary to the physician." The physician commanded, and went out; the runaway came in secretly and provided everything. "Do you want fornication? Do you want falsehood?" That one said, "I want these things, not those the physician says; I want these things that you say." The wretched bodies were perishing. God accuses, prophets accuse, that executioner remained, and the desire of the sick man was for what harmed, not for what benefited. The race was perishing, everything was corrupted. The physician came, rich in the midst of poverty, finding an easy, simple, and saving way. "If I say," he says, "Do this and that, they do not do it. How? They did not accept the things of the law, and will they accept the things of grace? They did not accept the lower things, and will they accept the higher things?

If I speak of fasting, if I speak of wearing sackcloth, if I speak of poverty, if I speak of virginity, do they not know a chaste marriage, and can I speak to them about virginity? They seize what belongs to others, and can I speak to them about poverty? They fornicate, they commit adultery, and can I speak to them about wearing sackcloth? What then? I become a man, for the time being, in my own flesh, and I converse with the outcast. I abolish sin, for the time being, from the race; I show a healthy man. I show the same nature, and not the same fall. I show a man who has not committed sin, nor has guile in his mouth, so that these, being spectators, may have hope of salvation, and those who plot may flee, and they may see a man who has no sin. Be ashamed, devil. This is flesh, this is a body, which my Master has. For this reason he always went about saying, "If this man is a Son of God, how does he not sin? All others are under sin." For sin is not of nature, but of choice. Behold, I give a healthy man, a vessel cleansed and unblemished.

And standing in the midst of the people, he said, “Who among you convicts me of sin?” And no one could say anything. What then now? He goes to the sick for the time being, encouraging them with words, just as a physician does with medicines. “You have nothing evil if you are temperate; the disease is severe, but it can be resolved.” He exhorts them, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” The sick were burdened; for disease, disorder, fornication, theft, falsehood, false witness are burdens. For no burden is as heavy as an evil conscience. But since the sick person fears the physician, especially when the disease is severe—lest he sharpen a knife, lest he kindle fire—and many of the sick have chosen to die in their diseases rather than endure the pain from the treatment and reap the health from the pain, so that no one may fear this: “This man has come,” he says, “He demands from us an accounting of our sins; he demands from us an accounting of our transgressions; he is going to punish us, and then he corrects us.” So that no one, thinking this, may flee, he says, “Come to me. I have not come to judge the world but to save the world. Nothing is harsh; I have no knife, I have no burning fire; I do not burn, I do not cut; the treatment is painless, the cure without suffering. If you do not believe, look at the prostitute, look at the robber, look at the Magi, the tax collector, the Canaanite woman. I have given you an example from the outset. Did I burn? Did I cut? Did the prostitute only weep, and become more chaste than virgins? Did the Magi not worship, and become evangelists?

Did not the Canaanite woman come and receive healing for her daughter? I did not come to judge the world, but to save it. Come, all who labor and are burdened. I speak these words: I am master, I have no need, I am not a slave subject to law; the law accuses you, but I dissolve the accusation; I silence the accuser himself. How? Grace has silenced him; the prophets accuse, but I grant greater freedom. So, having come and found nature in a bad state, some in fornication, others in adultery, smoke and soot polluting the air, and all the rest, what does he do? Seeing our race burning with fever, he bathes it; first he says, Bathe, and be rid of the disease; he bathes with the bath of regeneration and anoints; and with the ointment of myrrh I anoint you, and I bathe and transform you. And is the power of the bath so great? So great. Go down below. He goes down below, and the old man does not remain. Is there need of iron? Of cutting and pain? The benefit is in pleasure; is the treatment not painful? And what shall we do to be saved? We have done countless evils, we have a wicked conscience, we are lost. He says to be baptized and to be saved; for he takes, anoints, bathes, then nourishes with solid food. For since the sick man has become innocent, he nourishes him and nourishes his own body, and gives him his own blood to drink; "Of me," he says, "the sinless one." For since you have become sinless from the bath, taking such a body, he anoints, bathes, nourishes.

This is a new creation. When a fornicator enters and becomes righteous, is that not a new creation? When a robber enters and is freed from his sins, is that not a new creation? You have seen the creation in grace; see also the creation in conduct. How many prostitutes have left the theatres, cast off silk garments, sprinkled themselves with ashes, clothed themselves in sackcloth, and now live in Christ? Is that not a new creation? When, then, you see the prostitute no longer a prostitute, but more chaste than a virgin, say: Her mind has been created anew, her heart has been changed, her understanding has been transformed from her former way; she no longer goes to the theatre, she no longer ensnares others, but she herself is saved; she is no longer a scandal to others, but a salvation; for fornicators see her and become chaste. Do you see the new creation? When you see the robber, the Greek, the one who licks altars, the one who rages against Christians, who strips countless orphans, who denudes countless widows, become a Christian, and give his own possessions to the poor, and attend all-night vigils, say: He has been created anew. Thus, If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. See everywhere in the world the new creation. When you see monks occupying mountains, crucified, trampling on the necessities of nature, imitating angels in their dispassion: thus, If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. Go to Persia, if not in body, then in mind: they used to marry their mothers, now they practice virginity. Thus, If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. Look even at kings, at the creation of those who wear diadems.

Before this, emperors filled everything with impiety, but now emperors come to church. And yet emperors are fearsome to all; but now the Church is fearsome to them. Who dares say to an emperor, "Lay down your diadem"? Yet the Church says it to him, and he obeys, and comes with bare head, with no one speaking, but his own reason urging him—with bare head and unadorned. He casts aside the diadem and takes up the cross. The poor man and the emperor enter the table alike; not one way for the poor and another for the emperor. Nor does the emperor say, "Give me more, and the poor man less," but having the same humility, the same reverence, as the poor man and I. Therefore, "If anyone is in Christ, a new creation." For all these things, let us give thanks to God, because glory to Him for the ages. Amen.