In illud Utinam sustineretis modicum

On the Apostolic Saying, "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly." 1. I love all the saints, but especially the blessed Paul, the vessel of election, the heavenly trumpet, the bridesmaid of Christ. I have said this, and I have brought into the open the love I have for him, in order to make you also partakers of this affection. For those who love with bodily love naturally are ashamed to confess it, since they both shame themselves and harm their hearers; but those who love with spiritual love never cease confessing it, for they benefit both themselves and their hearers through this good confession. For that love is a reproach, but this is a commendation; that is a passion of the soul that is censured, but this is a delight of the soul, a rejoicing, and the best adornment; that introduces war into the mind of the lovers, but this expels even the existing war and establishes the lovers in great peace. And from that comes no benefit, but rather great loss of money, some senseless expenditure, an overturning of life, and the complete ruin of households; from this comes great wealth of good deeds, great abundance of virtue. In addition to what has been said, those who love beautiful bodies and gape at the radiance of faces, if they are ugly and ill-favored, gain nothing from their desire for those others to relieve their own lack of beauty, but are judged even uglier and more repulsive; but with this love, the opposite is entirely the case.

For the one who loves a holy soul—beautiful, radiant, and exceedingly fair—even if he himself is ugly and ill-favored, even if he is the ugliest of all men, by persisting in his love for the saints, he will quickly become such as the beloved is. For this too is a work of God's love for humanity: that while a body that is misshapen and maimed cannot be corrected, a soul that is ugly and ill-favored can be made radiant and exceedingly fair. For from the beauty of that body no profit would arise; but from the beauty of this soul one can reap as many goods as it is fitting for a lover to possess who has God. Concerning this beauty, David also sings in the Psalms: "Listen, daughter," he says, "and see, and incline your ear, and forget your people and your father's house, and the king will desire your beauty." Here he calls "beauty" that which pertains to the soul, which is constituted through virtue and piety. 2. Since, then, the profit is so great for those who share in the saints, share with me in this love, and let us love this holy man with great intensity. For if this love enters into our soul and kindles a bright flame, even if it finds something thorny, stony, hard, and insensible in your thoughts, it will consume the one and soften the other, and will make our soul a deep and fertile field, suitable for the sowing of divine seeds. And let no one say to me, "Paul is not present now, nor is he seen by our eyes; how is it possible to love one who is not seen?

For nothing is an obstacle to this love; for it is possible to love even when one is absent, and to cherish even when not seen, especially when we behold such great and manifold memorials of that virtue every day: the Churches everywhere throughout the earth, the overthrow of impiety, the transformation of wicked life for the better, the deliverance from error, the overturned altars, the closed temples, the silence of the demons. For all these and such things the power of Paul's tongue, inspired by the grace of God, cast down, and kindled the bright flame of piety everywhere. Along with these achievements we also have his holy epistles, which accurately delineate for us the character of that blessed soul. Therefore, as if conversing and associating with Paul himself when he is present, let us with eagerness obey what is written, let us unfold what is said within, let us learn what it is that he was crying out today, saying: "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly; but do bear with me; for I am jealous for you with a divine jealousy." What are you saying, O Paul? You who command your disciples to walk in wisdom among outsiders, you who say, "Let your speech always be in grace, seasoned with salt," knowing how you must answer each one; you who pray for all that they be filled with spiritual wisdom—do you yourself say, "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly"? Was it not enough for you to utter a word of folly, but do you also bring this forth to your disciples?

and you make this clear not only to the disciples, but also to all people born afterward through the letter? Do you see how we must not simply pass over what is said, but examine each point precisely? For this, when read simply, escapes the hearers, but when investigated, shows Paul's great wisdom, his vast understanding, and his ineffable care. 3. What then is the meaning of what is said? There were many false apostles among the Corinthians, corrupting them, accusing Paul, undermining the reputation he had among the disciples, mocking him with irony, and charging him as a boaster. He appears to be contending against these people in many places of the epistle. For when he says, "We are not like the rest, who adulterate the word of God," and again after saying, "I have kept myself burdensome to you," and promising to keep this law inviolate throughout (for he says, "The truth of Christ is in me, because this boast of mine will not be silenced in the regions of Achaia"), in the statement of the cause he hinted at those vile men, saying thus: "Why? Because I do not love you? God knows. But what I do and will do, to cut off the pretext of those who want a pretext." And earlier than this he exhorts the disciples not to put him in a position of having to show his own power to them, speaking thus: "I beg that you not be present to take confidence in the assurance by which I think to dare against those who consider us as walking according to the flesh.

For these very people, about whom he says these things, accusing him of irony, used to say this: that Paul's letters have great bombast and verbal arrogance, but he himself is insignificant, cheap, and contemptible. So when he arrives there, he appears worthy of no account. Which point, then, he again makes clear, saying: "Lest I seem to be frightening you through my letters"—that the letters, he says, are weighty and strong, but the presence of the body is weak, and the speech is despised. Then, rebuking the Corinthians themselves who are being persuaded, he says: "Or did I commit a sin by humbling myself so that you might be exalted?" And also, while defending himself against that very accusation, he says again: "That what we are through letters when absent, such we are also when present in deed." Since, then, there were many false apostles among them, whom he also calls deceitful workers, speaking thus: "For such false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ." And

No wonder; for even Satan himself transforms into an angel of light. It is no great thing, then, if his servants also transform themselves as servants of righteousness. Since, then, these people, having found countless slanders against him, were harming the disciples, persuading them not to hold the proper opinion about him, he is finally compelled to fall into a narrative of his own praises; for it was no longer safe to be silent. Since, then, he is about to relate to us his own labors, and the revelations he saw, and the toils he toiled, wishing to show to all that he does this unwillingly and under compulsion, and seeing that it was necessary, he nevertheless called the thing folly, speaking thus: "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly." I am about, he says, to do a foolish thing, to praise and eulogize myself; but I am not the cause of this, but those who have cast me into such necessity; therefore I ask you to bear with me, and to attribute the cause to them. 4. And observe Paul's wisdom: having said, "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly," but also "Bear with me; for I am zealous for you with a divine zeal," he did not immediately come to the narrative of his praises, but again inserting words in between, he speaks somewhat as follows: "Again I say, let no one think me foolish; but if not, at least receive me as a fool." And not even thus did he touch upon the narrative, but again he adds and says: "What I speak, I speak not according to the Lord, but as in folly, in this state of boasting." And not even after these words did he dare to descend, but again, having started, he checks himself and says:

Since many boast according to the flesh, I too will boast; for you gladly endure fools, being wise yourselves. Then he draws back again and hesitates, and after saying some other things, he adds again: In whatever one dares, I say in folly, I too dare. And then only with difficulty, after so many preliminary corrections, did he venture upon the narration of the encomia. And just as a horse about to leap over a steep cliff rushes as if about to clear it, but seeing the depth grows numb and draws back, then seeing the rider forcing it more vehemently, tries again and suffers the same, and showing both the necessity and the compulsion, stands for a long time neighing on the edge of the chasm, so that by encouraging itself it may dare; so also the blessed Paul, as if about to let himself down over some cliff, the narration of his own encomia, once and twice and three times and many times draws back, speaking thus: Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly; and again, Let no one think me foolish; but if not, at least receive me as a fool; and, What I say, I do not say according to the Lord, but as in folly, in this state of boasting; and again, Since many boast according to the flesh, I too will boast; for you gladly endure fools, being wise; and again, In whatever one dares, I say in folly, I too dare.

And having called himself a fool and senseless countless times, only then did he barely dare to come to his own praises: Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they of the seed of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? So am I. And not even here did he reproach himself, but again he sets forth the preliminary correction, introducing it thus: I speak as one out of my mind, for I am. And not even here did he stop, but after recounting all his own praises, he says: I have become a fool by boasting; you compelled me. As if he were saying, I had no concern for them, if your affairs had been firm, if you had not been perverted and shaken. For even if those people had constantly spoken ill of us, no harm came to me from their slander. But when I saw the flock being corrupted, the disciples falling away, I disregarded a burdensome and oppressive matter, and I was compelled to become a fool, speaking my own praises for your sake and for your salvation. 5. For such is the custom of the saints: if they do something base, they parade it about, and lament it every day, and make it known to all; but if they do something noble and great, they conceal it and consign it to oblivion. Thus this same saint, even when no one compelled him, constantly turned over and paraded his sins, now saying, Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the first; now saying, I am grateful to Christ who strengthened me, because he considered me faithful, placing me in the ministry, me who was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an insolent man; but I was pitied, because I acted in ignorance and unbelief.

And again: "Last of all, as if to an abortion, he appeared also to me; for I am the least of the apostles, who am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church of God." And again: "To me, the least of all the saints, this grace was given." Do you see how he calls himself not only last of the apostles, but even simply of all the faithful, saying, "To me, the least of all the saints, this grace was given"? Thus he says he is not even worthy of the salvation through which he was saved; for if he says that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the first, listen also for what reason he says this: "But I was pitied for this reason, that in me first Christ Jesus might display all his forbearance as a pattern for those who were to believe in him for eternal life." And what he says is this: I was not pitied because of the worthiness of my change of life; do not think that; but so that no one who has lived in wickedness might despair, nor any of those who warred against Christ, seeing the last of all, after whom there was no other so great an enemy of Christ, saved. And while Christ says, "He is a chosen vessel to bear my name before nations and kings," this man, puffed up by none of those praises, remains bewailing himself after such boldness, calling himself first of sinners, and saying he was pitied for this reason, that no one who has driven wickedness to the extreme might despair of his own salvation, looking at him and the philanthropy shown to him.

6. His sins, then, even when there is no necessity, he parades daily in all his epistles, exposing and making them known not only to the people of that time, but also to all who would come afterward. But his praises, even when he sees a necessity, he nevertheless hesitates and shrinks from recounting. And this is clear from the fact that he called the matter folly countless times, and it is also clear from the entire time during which he kept silent about that marvelous and divine revelation. For he had seen it not then, nor two, three, or ten years before, but many more. For this reason he also sets down the time itself, saying: "I know a man who fourteen years ago was snatched up to the third heaven," so that you may learn that he would not have spoken even then, had he not seen great necessity pressing upon him. For if he had wished to recount his own praises, he would have spoken of it immediately when he saw it, or in the first, second, or third year. But now he endured and kept silent for fourteen years, and spoke of it to no one, but only to the Corinthians.

And when? When he saw the false apostles springing up, showing that he would not have spoken even then, had he not seen such great corruption arising among the disciples. But we do not act thus; on the contrary, we do everything opposite: we do not remember our sins for a single day, but if we hear others mention them, we are indignant, we are vexed, we consider the matter an insult, and we heap countless abuses upon them. But if we have done some small good, we constantly turn it over, and we are grateful to those who recall it, and we consider such people friends. Yet Christ commanded the opposite: to forget our good deeds and remember our sins. And he made this clear to us both through what he exhorted to his disciples, saying, "When you have done everything, say, 'We are worthless servants,'" and through the parable of the Pharisee, setting the publican before him. For just as the memory of his sins justified the publican, so the memory of his good deeds destroyed the Pharisee. And to the Jews God gives the same exhortation, speaking thus: "I am the one who blots out your sins, and I will not remember them; but you remember." 7. Such was the character of the apostles, such that of the prophets and all the righteous. David, for instance, constantly remembered his own sin, but nowhere his good deeds, except when he was compelled.

When, then, that barbarian war overtook Judaea, and everything was full of dangers, while he was still young and inexperienced in wars, having left the sheep and come into the battle line, seeing all cowering and afraid and trembling, he suffered nothing human, nor did he become more cowardly seeing his own people humbled; but by faith, transcending all visible things and looking to the King of the heavens, and filling himself with great eagerness, he approached the soldiers and the brothers, promising to deliver them from the danger that beset them. And when the brothers laughed at what was said (for they did not see the God within anointing him, nor that noble soul, heaven-high and full of great philosophy), leaving them, he went to others. And when they brought him before the king himself, and he found him dead from fear, he first rouses his spirit, speaking thus: "Let not the heart of my lord sink within him, for your servant will go and fight with this foreigner." And when that one disbelieved, saying, "You will not be able to go; you are a boy, while he is a warrior from his youth," David, being at a loss, is then compelled to recount his own praises. For that he did not wish to do so, he showed through the earlier events, neither saying anything of his own achievements to the brothers, nor to the soldiers, nor even to the king himself, until he saw him disbelieving and distressed and hindering the attack against that man. For what was he to do then? Keep silent about his praises?

But he would not have allowed him to depart, nor to be released from the pressing dangers. For this reason, having kept silent when it was necessary, when he saw the moment compelling him to speak, he no longer remains silent, but says to him: "I was a shepherd, your servant, in my father's flock, and whenever a lion or a bear came and took a sheep from the herd, I would go out after it, and I would strike it, and I would snatch it from its mouth, and I would seize it by the throat, and I would kill it; and your servant would strike both the lion and the bear. And this foreigner, this uncircumcised one, will be as one of these." Do you see how he made clear for what reason he spoke of his own achievements? Then indeed, then, having taken courage, the king at last ordered him to go. And he went, and drew up for battle, and conquered. If he had not spoken his praises, the king would not have entrusted that single combat to him; not having entrusted it, he would not have allowed him to go into the battle line; not having allowed it, he would have prevented the success; and with the success prevented, neither would God have been glorified then, nor would the city have been delivered from the pressing dangers. So that such great absurdities might not occur, nor such a great economy be hindered, David was compelled to speak of his own labors. For just as they know how to be silent when there is no necessity, so also they know how to speak when they see great compulsion pressing upon them.

8. Not only in this case, but also in the case of Samuel, one may see the same thing having occurred. For that man, having presided over the people of the Jews for so many years in the manner that God willed, and having never uttered anything great about himself, although he had many things to say, if he had wished—his upbringing from early childhood, his sojourn in the temple, his prophecy from his swaddling clothes, the wars thereafter, the victories he won, not using weapons but arraying himself with the goodwill of God—in the earlier times he said none of these things. But when he was about to withdraw from the leadership and entrust the office to another, then at last he was compelled to recount his own praises, and even then in a subdued manner. And having summoned the entire people, with Saul also present, he speaks somewhat as follows: "Behold, I have heard your voice, and I have set a king over you; and I myself have been turned about before you from my youth until this day, and I have grown old. Answer against me before the Lord and before his anointed: Whose calf have I taken? Or whose donkey have I taken? Or whom of you have I oppressed? Or whom of you have I squeezed? Or from whose hand have I taken a bribe or a sandal, and hidden my eyes in it?

Say against me, and I will give back to you. And what necessity was there to say these things, someone says? Much and great. For since he was about to introduce Saul as their ruler, in his own defense he wished to teach him how one must preside over and care for the governed, bringing forward the subjects themselves as witnesses of his philosophy. And he does not do this at the time of his rule, so that no one might say that, fearing and being afraid of him, they testified to things that were not; but when the matters of leadership were dissolved, and the office had passed to another, and there was no longer any danger for the accuser, then he pleads his case before them. Yet if it were someone else, he would have borne a grudge against the Jews, and would not have wished the ruler after him to be gentle and moderate, not only because of resentment, but also so that he himself might be praised all the more. 9. For this is a terrible disease present in rulers: they pray that those who come after them into office be base and wicked. For if they happen to be noble, they think they will appear more brilliant, since those who succeed them in office are not such; and if they are harsh and corrupt, the wickedness of the subsequent ruler will be an excuse for their own depravity. But this blessed man was not such; rather, he wished and prayed and desired that they might enjoy a much better leadership. So affectionate was he, so free from envy, so devoid of vainglory. Yet he sought only one thing: the salvation of the people. For this reason, he also shaped the ruler for them in his own defense.

For since to summon the king and say, "Be gentle and moderate and incorruptible, and do not force anyone, nor wrong anyone, nor covet," was burdensome and oppressive to the one about to hear these things; while to remain silent, on the other hand, would have been a betrayal of the people; so under the guise of a defense he accomplished both: he taught the king what sort of person a ruler ought to be, and he escaped the oppressiveness that comes from teaching. And he appears to be pleading his own case, but he is instructing the king how and in what manner he ought to care for his subjects. Now observe with what exactness he showed himself pure of bribes. For he did not say, "Did I not take any of your fields? Did I not take any gold?" but rather what was most trivial of all: "Did I not take a shoe?" he says. Then he also revealed to us another great virtue of his. For since many rulers, when they steal, are gentle and moderate and affable, not from their own character, but from the necessity of their conscience, having had their frankness stripped away by their thefts; while those who are incorruptible are burdensome and oppressive, again not from their own character, but from some vainglory and from being pure of bribes; and one would not easily see both combined in a single person; this holy man, wishing to show that he had overcome both—that he was master of both bribes and anger—after saying, "Did I not take a calf from any of you?" he did not stop, but added, "Or did I oppress any of you or squeeze you?" that is, "Did I crush you?" What he means is this: No one could say this, that I did not take, but because I did not take, I became burdensome and oppressive and harsh and savage.

For this reason he said, "Did I oppress any of you?" What then did they say? "You neither oppressed us, nor squeezed us, nor took anything from our hand." And so that you may learn that he said these things while educating even the king himself, he added, "The Lord is witness, and his Christ is witness." By this he was indicating and showing us that the testimony was not a flattering one, since he called as witness the one who knows the hidden thoughts of the mind, which is the proof of a clear conscience. For no one, no one, unless he were utterly mad and out of his senses, would ever call God as witness of his own conscience, unless he had great confidence in himself. So after they had testified concerning what he had said, he himself shows another virtue of his own. And having recalled all the ancient events in Egypt, and the protection of God, and the wars that followed after those, he reminds them of the battle that took place in his own time and the unexpected victory. And after telling how often, because of their own sins, they were handed over to their enemies, he himself called upon God and delivered them from their enemies, linking the new events with the old. He then adds and says, "The Lord sent Hierobaal, Gideon, Barak, Jephthah, and Samuel, and delivered you from the hands of your enemies all around, and you dwell in confidence." Do you see how it is customary for the saints not to speak of their own achievements, unless they are compelled? For this reason Paul also, looking to these examples and being precisely taught that it is burdensome and oppressive for someone to speak about himself, said, "Would that you had borne with me a little in my folly.

Not great, but something small. For even though there was no necessity, he was not prepared to pour himself out with abundance into the narration of the encomia, but runs through them briefly; and this very thing he does for their sake and for their salvation. For just as, when there is no necessity to speak of one's own achievements, it is the height of folly, so when necessity presses and compulsion drives, it is again a betrayal to be silent about one's own deeds. But nevertheless Paul, even seeing that there was necessity, hesitated, and called the matter folly, so that you might learn his prudence and wisdom and great caution. For having said, "What I speak, I do not speak as the Lord," he added, "in this form of boasting." Do not think, he says, that I say this universally. So it is for this reason especially that I praise and admire him and call him most wise, because he considered the act of praising and commending oneself to be a matter of folly. But if this man, seeing that there was necessity, called this folly, what forgiveness would be worthy, what apology, those who, even when there is no necessity, speak great things about themselves, or even compel others to speak them? Knowing these things, then, let us not only praise what is said, but also imitate and emulate, and forgetting our achievements, always remember our faults, so that we may be able to be moderate, and, stretching forward to what lies ahead, we may take the prize of the heavenly calling, by the grace and philanthropy of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, power, honor, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.