In illud Vidi dominum

Praise for those who assembled in the church, and concerning good order in the doxologies, and on the text "I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up." I see you showing great zeal to put into practice what was spoken by us earlier. Therefore I too unhesitatingly sow the seeds of teaching, nourished from this by good hopes. For the farmer also, whenever he has sown the seeds with labor and sees the fertile earth and the flourishing crops, forgets his former toils and rouses himself to the next work and care by the profit he expects. And yet how much more resourceful and profitable is this farming? For that one, procuring abundance of perceptible fruits, deposits food in bodies; but this one, sowing the teaching of words and multiplying the gifts of the Spirit, deposits spiritual wealth, the inexhaustible and undefiled food that is not dissolved nor corrupted in the course of things, but is preserved by some ineffable providence and has its enjoyment in the mind. This is the fruit of my labors, this is the wealth deposited in your love. Perceiving this, then, growing in you, I rejoice continually, as one not sowing the seeds in vain, as one not having endured labors to no purpose, as one sowing into fertile and rich soil and fit for bearing fruit. From where, then, do I conjecture such profit? From where do I perceive the words advancing into action?

Evidently from the present gathering, from your eagerly hastening to the church, the mother of all, from this all-night and unceasing standing, from your imitating the angelic choir and offering unceasing hymnody to the Creator. O the gifts of Christ! Above, the armies of angels give glory; below, in the churches, men standing in choir imitate that same doxology. Above, the Seraphim cry aloud the thrice-holy hymn; below, the multitude of men sends up the same; a common festival of heavenly and earthly beings is assembled; one thanksgiving, one exultation, one joyful choir. For the ineffable condescension of the Master brought this together, the Holy Spirit wove it together, the Father's good pleasure harmonized the concord of its sounds, so that it has its rhythm of melody from above and, moved by the Trinity as if by a plectrum, resounds with that delightful and blessed melody, the angelic song, the ceaseless symphony. This is the goal of your zeal here, this is the fruit of your assembly. For this reason I rejoice to see such good progress; I rejoice to behold the gladness in your souls, the spiritual joy, the exultation according to God. For nothing so fills our life with joy as the cheerfulness in the church. In the church the joy of the glad is preserved, in the church the good cheer of the despondent, in the church the gladness of the sorrowful, in the church the refreshment of the oppressed, in the church the rest of the weary.

For he says, 'Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.' What could be more desirable than this voice? What sweeter than this call? The Master calls you to a banquet, summoning you in the church; he urges you to rest from your labors, he transfers you to relief from your pains, lightening the weight of your sins; with luxury he heals despondency and with gladness he cures sorrow. O his care, O heavenly call! Let us hasten, then, beloved, to show our zeal itself intensified, and to fulfill it with the proper order and the fitting aim. For I wish today to raise before you the discourse concerning this matter, which seems burdensome but is in truth inoffensive and profitable. For so do affectionate fathers also act: they commend to their children not only what gladdens them for a little while but also what grieves them; and they advise them not only of things that show their benefit at once, but also of all that seem to be burdensome yet are saving when fulfilled, and these they teach with great care and safely demand their observance. Perhaps we too. For this reason we set forth this discourse, so that we may not expend the labor here in vain, so that we may not, enduring the necessity of the vigil, fight to no profit, so that our voices, dissolving into the air, may not resound to our loss rather than to our gain.

For a merchant does not undertake long voyages, enduring the great onset of winds and the rising of waves, only to accept such toils idly and in vain; but for this reason he cuts through the seas, braves dangers, moves from place to place, and spends every night without sleep, so that his trade may increase. For if this were not present, but along with the profit the loss of his capital also came upon him, it would not even be possible for him to set sail, nor to endure those intricate dangers. Knowing this, then, let us come here with the reverence that is fitting, so that we may not return home having made an addition of sins instead of the forgiveness of sins. But what is it that is sought and required of us? That those who send up divine hymns, restrained with great fear and adorned with reverence, should offer them in this way. For there are some here, whom I think even your love does not fail to know, who despise God and regard the oracles of the Spirit as common things, and who let out disorderly cries and are in no better a state than the insane, shaken with the whole body and spun around and displaying habits alien to the spiritual condition. Wretched and miserable man, when you ought to send forth the angelic doxology in fear and trembling, and with fear make confession to the Creator and through this ask forgiveness for your offenses—but you bring in here the things of mimes and dancers, raising your hands disorderly and leaping with your feet and twisting with your whole body.

And how is it that you have not feared, nor shuddered at daring such words? Do you not consider that the Master himself is here invisibly present, measuring the movement of each one and calling the conscience to account? Do you not consider that angels stand by this awe-inspiring table and attend it with fear? But you do not understand these things, because your mind has been darkened by the things heard and seen in the theaters, and for this reason you confuse what is done there with the rites of the church, and for this reason by your meaningless shouts you publicize the disorder of your soul. How then will you beg forgiveness for your own sins? How will you draw the Master to compassion, offering your petition with such contempt? You say, "Have mercy on me, O God," and you display a character foreign to mercy. You cry, "Save me," and you fashion a bearing alien to salvation. What contribution do hands make to supplication when they are continually raised on high and tossed about disorderly, and a shout violent and, by the forceful impulse of the spirit, meaningless? Are not some of these the deeds of women who prostitute themselves at the crossroads, and others the deeds of those who perform in the theaters? How then do you dare to mingle the playthings of demons with this angelic glorification? And how are you not ashamed of this voice that you utter, saying, "Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice in him with trembling"? Is this what serving with fear means—to be dissolved and strained and not even to know yourself about what you are speaking with the disorderly sound of your voice? This is contempt, not fear; arrogance, not humility.

This is more the part of those who play than of those who give glory. What then is it to serve the Lord with fear? It is to fulfill every commandment, to work it out with fear and compunction, to offer up supplications with a contrite heart and a humbled mind. And the Holy Spirit through the prophet enjoins not only to serve with fear, but also to rejoice with trembling. For since the fulfillment of the commandment is accustomed to produce joy in the one who practices virtue, this too, he says, ought to be done with trembling and dread, lest, confounded by fearlessness, we both lose the fruit of our labors and provoke God. But how, he says, shall one rejoice with trembling? For it is not even possible for the two to happen at the same time, since there is a great difference between them. For joy is the fulfillment of desires and the enjoyment of pleasant things and the forgetting of grievous things; but fear is the intensification of expected evils, standing upon a condemned conscience. How then is it possible to rejoice in fear, and not simply in fear, but in trembling, which is an intensification of fear and a sign of great agony? And how, he says, shall this come to be? The Seraphim themselves teach you this by deed, as you fulfill such a ministry. For they too, enjoying the ineffable glory of the Creator and beholding as in a mirror the beauty that surpasses understanding—I do not mean that very beauty which is in its nature (for this is incomprehensible and invisible and without form, and it is absurd to suppose such things about it), but as far as they are able, as far as they have strength to be illumined by that ray.

For since they minister continually around the royal throne, they pass their time in continual joy, in everlasting gladness, in unceasing exultation, rejoicing, leaping, glorifying without silence. For to stand before that glory and to be illumined by the radiance that flashes forth from it—this is joy to them, this is exultation, this is gladness, this is glory. Perhaps you have felt some pleasure and have come to desire that glory. But if you are willing to listen to the one who exhorts you and to make the present doxology with reverence, you will not be deprived of such joy; for he is that very Master who is glorified both in heaven and on earth: "For the whole heaven, it says, and the earth are full of his glory." How then do those who enjoy such great gladness mix it with fear? How? Hear what the prophet says: "I saw the Lord sitting on a throne high and lifted up." For what reason, having said "high," did he add "lifted up"? Was it not enough to signify the whole of the matter by "high" and to show the transcendence of his worth? Why then did he add "lifted up"? To indicate the incomprehensibility of the seat. For since with us "high" provides some notion of comparison with things lowly and more humble (for example, mountains are high compared to plains and the hollows of the earth, and the heaven is high, raised above all earthly things), but "lifted up" and "exalted" belong to that incomprehensible nature alone, which it is possible neither to conceive nor to interpret—for this reason he says:

I saw the Lord seated on a throne high and lifted up." And what else did you see, O prophet? What did you behold around him? "And the Seraphim stood," he says, "round about him." Doing what, tell me, and saying what? Enjoying what boldness of speech? No boldness of speech at all, he says, but full of fear and terror, and through their very posture displaying the ineffable nature of their dread. "For with their two wings they covered their faces," at once fencing off the radiance sent forth from the throne, because they cannot bear its intolerable glory, and at the same time revealing their own reverence, which they have toward the Master. With such joy do they rejoice, with such gladness do they exult. You saw how they cover not only their faces but also their feet. For what reason do they do this? Their eyes, reasonably, because of the fearsomeness of the sight and their inability to look directly at the unapproachable glory; but why do they cover their feet as well? And I would have preferred to leave this to you, so as to persuade you also to labor over its solution and to keep watch for the investigation of spiritual things; but lest, leaving your mind occupied with the inquiry into it, I cause you to neglect the exhortation, it is necessary to solve it myself. Why, then, do they cover their feet? They hasten to display insatiable reverence toward the Creator, great anxiety both through their posture and through their voice and through their appearance, and through their very standing.

Since they fail in this way too to attain what they desire and what is fitting, they conceal their deficiency from every side by covering it over. Did you grasp what was said, or is it right to take it up again? But so that this may become clearer, I will try to make it evident from examples among us. Someone stands before an earthly king and devises every means to display great reverence toward him, so that through this he may draw to himself greater goodwill from him. For this reason, through the posture of the head and through the voice and through the binding of the hands and the joining of the feet and the composure of the whole body, he cultivates such reverence. This also happens with those incorporeal powers. For since they have a great desire for reverence toward the Creator and devise from every side to secure it, and then fail in their striving, they cover over what falls short of their desire with a veil. For this reason, then, they are said to cover their eyes and their feet. Even if there is some other more mystical contemplation that is contemplated concerning this; for the prophet does not indicate this so that we might shout that they have feet and faces—for they are incorporeal, just as the divine nature is—but so that through these things he might show that they are wholly composed in fear and reverence, ministering to the Master. In this way we too must stand, offering such glorification to him, fearing and trembling and gazing upon him as if upon that very one with the eyes of the mind. For he is present here entirely and is circumscribed nowhere and records the voices of all.

Therefore, sending up praise with a broken and humbled heart, let us make it acceptable and send it up to heaven like fragrant incense. For "a broken and humbled heart," it says, "God will not despise." But the prophet, they say, urges us to offer glorification with a shout: "Shout to the Lord, all the earth." But we do not forbid that kind of shout either, but rather the meaningless cry; nor the voice of praise, but the voice of disorder, the rivalries against one another, the hands lifted up in the air at random and in vain, the prancing feet, the disorderly and dissolute manners, which are the playthings of those who spend their leisure in theaters and hippodromes. From there these destructive teachings are smuggled in among us, from there these reckless and vulgar cries, from there the disorders of the hands, the strifes, the rivalries, the disorderly manners. For nothing so prepares one to despise the oracles of God as the excitements of those spectacles. For this reason I have often exhorted that no one of those who come here and enjoy the divine teaching and partake of the awesome and mystical sacrifice should go to those theaters, and mix the divine mysteries with demonic things. But some have become so mad that, even while putting on an appearance of piety and having reached deep old age, they nevertheless desert to those places, neither paying attention to our words nor feeling shame at their own outward form.

But when we set this before them and urge them to respect gray hair and piety, what is their cold and ridiculous argument? Listen. "The example," he says, "of the victory there and of the crowns is also a reason, and from this we reap the greatest benefit." What are you saying, man? This argument is brittle and full of deceit. From where do you reap the benefit? From those countless rivalries and the oaths sworn rashly and in vain to the harm of those who speak them? Or from the insults and blasphemies and mockeries with which the spectators of such things drench one another? But not from these. But from the disorderly shouts and the indistinct noise and the dust sent up and those pushing and shoving and the women ogling opposite—do you gather the fruits of benefit from these? But this is not so, it is not. And here all the prophets and teachers point out the very Master of the angels himself sitting on a high and exalted throne, and awarding the prizes and crowns to the worthy, but allotting Gehenna and fire to the unworthy; and the Lord himself confirms this. Then do you despise these things, in which are both the fear of conscience and the conviction of deeds done and the agony of accounts and the inexorability of punishment; but in order that you may find an irrational pretext for your lofty pretensions, you say you are benefited in those things in which you endure inconsolable loss? No, I beg and entreat, let us not make pretexts in sins; for these things are a cloak and a deceit, procuring for us ourselves what is harmful. But concerning this, that is enough.

It is time now to run back to the earlier exhortation, and after saying a few things about it, to give the discourse its proper conclusion. For not only are the matters of disorder here, but another grievous disease also circulates. What is this? That when people have set out to hold converse with God and send up the doxology to him, then, leaving him aside, each one takes his neighbor and arranges his household affairs, the things in the marketplaces, the things in the assembly, the things in the theaters, the things in the army—how these were managed and how those were neglected, what is excessive in business and what is lacking; and simply put, they converse here about all things, public and private. And what forgiveness are these things worthy of? When someone converses with an earthly king, he makes his speech about those matters only concerning which that king wishes and about which he proposes his questions; and if he should dare to put forward anything else contrary to that king's mind, he will undergo the ultimate punishment. But you, conversing with the King of kings, whom angels serve with trembling, having abandoned your converse with him, converse about mud and dust and a spider's web? For these present matters are such things. And how will you bear the penalty of contempt? Who will rescue you from such punishment? But, he says, the affairs of state and of the commonwealth are in a bad condition, and our talk about this is much, our struggle is much. And what is the cause? The folly of the rulers, he says. It is not the folly of the rulers, but ours

Sin is the exaction of offenses. It has turned things upside down, it has introduced all terrible things, it has armed wars, it has brought about defeat. From no other source did the swarm of troubles overflow upon us than from this cause. So whether it be Abraham who rules, or Moses, or David, or Solomon the wisest, or a man more sinful than all men, since we are in a bad condition, the cause of evils remains a matter of indifference. How and in what way? Because if he be among the most lawless and among those carried along unwillingly and disorderly, our own lack of counsel and disorder has produced such a one as fruit, our own sins have first prepared the blow. For to receive rulers according to our hearts is nothing other than this: that having sinned beforehand, we have obtained such a leader, whether he be one of the priests or one of those administering worldly authorities. But if he be exceedingly righteous, and so righteous as to have reached the virtue of Moses, his righteousness alone will not be able to cover over the boundless offenses of his subjects. And one might learn this precisely from Moses himself, who suffered many hardships for Israel and offered much supplication on its behalf to God, that he should inherit the promised land; but since this people made itself a stranger to the possession by its own lawless acts, his prayer could not alter God's righteous verdict, when the whole people had been laid low in the wilderness. And yet who is more righteous than Moses? Or who more bold toward God?

Effectual" indeed "is the supplication of a righteous man," but "when it is working," that is, when it is aided by repentance and conversion for the things on account of which it is offered. But for those whose manner is unrepentant and unconverted, how will it be able to help, when they themselves oppose it by their own deeds? And what are we to say, when this happens on the part of a whole people transgressing the law, seeing that the sin of even a few subjects, or often even of one man, outruns the boldness of those who rule justly? And one may again understand this from Israel himself, who was led as a people by Moses, when he encamped against the land of the foreigners and joined battle against them, how certain of his men, raging after their women, brought about that wholesale slaughter and destruction. And in the case of one man such a thing has happened: as in the case of Achar, who took the embroidered robe from the dedicated offering and kindled the anger of God against the people. But perhaps some of those present are ignorant of the details of this history. Therefore it is necessary, after saying a few things about it, to remind those who know and to teach those who do not know. This Achar, then, happened to be one of those who crossed the Jordan with Jesus the son of Nave, that Jesus who was chosen beforehand by the vote of God as the successor of Moses, who holds the image and type of our true Savior Jesus Christ.

For just as that man led the people across from the wilderness through the Jordan into the land of promise, so too our Savior led us across from the wilderness of ignorance and idolatry through the holy and saving baptism into the Jerusalem above, into the mother of the firstborn, where the mansions of true rest were prepared, where the dwelling is unshaken and peaceful. This man, then, having led the people across by the power of the one who commanded, attacked Jericho and, carrying out that strange siege, when the walls were already about to fall, what does he say to the people? "This city shall be devoted, and all that is in it, to the Lord Sabaoth, except Rahab the harlot; preserve her. Take heed, therefore, from the devoted thing, lest perhaps, having thought of it, you take from it and destroy us." All things in the city, he says, have been consecrated—for this is what "devoted" means. Let no one, therefore, embezzle any of the things dedicated to the Lord God and destroy us from the land. The command is dangerous; great is the strictness both of God who commands and of Jesus who legislates. For how was it not possible, in so great a multitude, for this law to be transgressed, when there were many things urging them to this? For either the instability and love of gain of the people, or the fact that not all were obedient to the command set before them, or the variety of the spoils lying there like bait and luring those who love possessions, would easily have impelled them to transgression. Nevertheless, this law was laid down, and the danger of transgressing it was hung over their heads. What then, after this?

The walls fell, and everything in the city came into the hands of those besieging it. Since, then, the whole people was keeping this commandment, the transgression of one man kindled the anger of God against the entire multitude. "For the sons of Israel," it says, "committed a great transgression, and they embezzled and took from the devoted thing, and Achar the son of Charmei took from the devoted thing, and the Lord was enraged with anger against the sons of Israel." And yet it was one man who transgressed. How then, it says, "did the sons of Israel transgress," and "the Lord was enraged against the sons of Israel"? Do you see how the sin of one man brought punishment beforehand upon the whole people? How it set God at war against the multitude? Since, then, the lawless deed was committed and no one was aware of it except only God, who knows hidden things, the punishment was impending, and the one who did this, even if he seemed to escape notice, was nevertheless being consumed by his own conscience as by fire. So then the time of the threat came, and of the sin being made manifest. "For Joshua," it says, "sent men from Jericho to Gai. And about three thousand men went up there and fled from before the men of Gai, and they killed thirty-six men from among them and drove them out and crushed them, and the heart of the people was terrified and became like water." See the exacting of punishment for one sin; see the blow beyond consolation. One man transgressed, and death and cowardice fell upon the entire people. What is this, O Master who loves good? You alone are just, and your judgments are upright. You assign judgment to each according to his own works.

You said, O lover of humanity, that each person shall die in his own sin and that one shall not be punished in place of another. What, then, is this righteous verdict of yours? All your works are good, Lord, and exceedingly good, and are ordered for our benefit. Sin, it says, is a kind of ruin; therefore let it be made a public example through punishment for all, so that it may not utterly destroy all, so that, having learned how great a threat one transgression has begotten, they may flee the endless chastisement that comes from more numerous sins. Seeing, then, it says, the irresistible flight, Joshua tore his garments and fell upon the ground, lamenting those dirges which the divine Scripture indicates. What then does the Master say to him? "Rise up; why have you fallen thus? Your people have sinned and transgressed my covenant, and the sons of Israel shall not be able to stand before the face of their enemies, until you remove the accursed thing from among yourselves." This was therefore proclaimed among the people; the one who committed the transgression is made known by God, and he agrees. For it says, Achar answered Joshua and said: "Truly I have sinned before the Lord God of Israel; thus and thus I did. I saw in the plunder a variegated robe, exceedingly beautiful, and two hundred didrachmas of silver and one tongue of gold of fifty didrachmas, and I coveted them and took them; and behold, these things are hidden in the ground in my tent." He brings everything, then, into the open, since he saw that the one who had disclosed these things was truthful and had the one who convicted him as a secure witness. Observe also his shameful and destructive death: "Joshua brought him up," it says, "to

the valley of Achar, and his sons and his daughters, and his calves and his beasts of burden and all his sheep and his tent and everything that belonged to him, and all Israel stoned them with stones. This is the recompense of lawlessness; thus is the impartial judgment of God. Knowing this, therefore, let us reckon the onset of grievous things as the exacting of our own sins, and examining our own charges each day, let us attach the cause of these things not to others but to ourselves. For it was not only the negligence of rulers, but much more our own transgressions that heaped up the evils. So then, let each one, coming here and reckoning his own trespasses, neither blame another nor fail to send up the present doxology with the fitting good order. And the good order required of us is this: first, to come to God with a contrite heart; then also to display the disposition of the heart through the visible posture, through the standing, through the good order of the hands, through the gentle and restrained voice. For this is easy and possible for everyone who wills it. How, then, will it be achieved by all? Let us lay down a law for ourselves and say that a commandment beneficial to all has been established, and that all of us must partake of such benefit. For this reason let us also silence disorderly voices and restrain the habits of the hands, presenting them to God bound and not lifted up with unruly gestures. For he hates this and turns away from it, just as he loves and accepts the restrained.

For to whom, he says, will I look, except to the meek and quiet and trembling at my words?" Let us say to one another that he does not wish us, while conversing with him, also to talk among ourselves, nor, having abandoned our discourse with him, to stir up the encounters of those present and to mingle pearls in the mire. For such a thing he considers a personal insult and not glorification. And if anyone should wish to transgress this commandment, let us stop his mouth, let us drive him away as a plotter against our salvation, let us cast him outside the enclosures of the holy church. For by doing so, we shall easily wash away our former sins, and we shall have the Master himself in our midst, dancing with the holy angels and awarding to each the crowns of good order. For since he is a lover of mankind and a great giver of gifts and rejoices in our salvation, delighting in our good deeds, for this reason he both promised the kingdom of heaven and a share in undefiled life, and prepared all good things beforehand, wishing us to dwell in them. May it be granted to all of us to attain these things by the grace and love of mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom glory, power, and worship are fitting to the Father and to the Holy Spirit, now and always and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

To the prophetic saying: "And it came to pass in the year in which King Uzziah died [I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up]," and that one must not pass over a single time or letter of the [divine] Scriptures. I rejoice to see you running together to the hearing of the divine oracles, [and I make this the greatest proof of your progress according to God]. For just as hunger is a sign of bodily good health, so the love of words is a sign of the soul's health. I rejoice, then, for this reason; but I fear lest I be unable to provide anything worthy of this desire. In much the same way a tender-hearted mother grieves when, having an infant at the breast, she is unable to supply the springs of milk to it abundantly; yet even in want she offers her breast, and the child takes it and draws and strains at it, and warming the chilled nipple with his mouth, he calls forth more nourishment than there is; and the mother suffers as her breasts are strained, yet she does not thrust the child away; for she is a mother, and she would rather rejoice in suffering all things than grieve the one she bore. If, then, mothers are so tender-hearted toward their offspring, much more ought we to be so disposed toward your love. For the pangs of the Spirit are warmer than those of nature. So that even if our table is full of great poverty, not even so will we hide it, but bringing all that we have into the midst, we will set it before you. And if these things are small and cheap, yet we offer them nonetheless.

For that servant also who was entrusted with the talent was not accused because he did not bring five talents, but because he buried the one which he had received; for this reason he paid the penalty. For what God and men seek is not to deposit few or many, but nowhere to bring an offering less than the ability one possesses. You heard recently, when we were deemed worthy to discourse to your love, those reading that psalm which, having cast the sinner out of the sacred precincts, urged the angels and the powers above to praise the God of all things. Do you wish, then, that today too we hear that mystic melody itself, standing somewhere near to that place? To me, at least, it seems so. For if foul men, setting up choirs in the marketplace, in deep darkness and at an unseasonable hour of the night, singing harlots' songs and broken strains, set our whole city fluttering and turn it toward themselves, shall we not run together with the heavenly hosts, with the choirs above, as they hymn the King of this universe, shall we not hear that divine and blessed voice? And what excuse would there be for us? And how is it possible to hear? he says. By ascending to heaven itself, if possible—if not in body, yet in mind; if not in presence, yet in thought. For the body, being earthy and heavy, is naturally disposed to remain below; but the soul is released from this necessity, and flies boldly to the highest and most distant places. And if it wishes to go to the very ends of the inhabited world and to ascend to heaven, nothing hinders it.

Thus God gave the soul the light wings of reason. Nor did he give it light wings only, but he also bestowed on it eyes that see far more keenly than the body. For the sight of the body, if it travels through empty air, advances a great distance; but if it strikes against even a small object, like a stream carried along and checked, it is turned back again. But the eyes of the soul, even if walls or ramparts or the vastness of mountains, or the very vaults of the heavens, meet them face to face, will easily run past them all. Yet although the soul possesses such swiftness and keenness of sight, it is not of itself sufficient for the contemplation of heavenly things, but needs one to lead it by the hand. Let us therefore do what those who long to see the imperial courts do. And what do they do? Having sought out the one entrusted with the keys of the doors, they come to him and converse with him and entreat him, and often they even pay out silver, so that he may grant them the favor. Let us also come to one of those entrusted with the heavenly gates, and converse with him, entreat him, and instead of silver let us show forth choice and a sincere disposition. And if he accepts that reward, taking us by the hand he will lead us everywhere, showing us not only the palace itself, but the King himself seated, with the armies present and the commanders standing by, and the myriads of the

of the angels, the thousands of the archangels; he will show us all things with exactness, as far as it is possible for us to see. Who, then, is this? Who is the one entrusted with this portion, into which we wish now to enter? Isaiah, the most loud-voiced of the prophets. It is necessary, then, to converse with him. But follow, walking with a restrained rhythm and with much quietness. Let no one who has cares for the things of life enter; let no one enter who is flighty or agitated, but let us all lay these things aside outside, before the doors, and so enter. [For we are entering the palace of the heavens; we are stepping upon places flashing with lightning.] The things within are full of much silence and secret mysteries. But pay close attention; for the reading of the Scriptures is an opening of the heavens. "And it came to pass in the year in which King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up." Do you see the kindliness of a grateful servant? At once he led us to the royal throne, not first leading us around through long entrances, but at the same time he opened the gates and showed the King sitting directly opposite. "And the Seraphim," he says, "stood round about him; six wings to the one and six wings to the other; and with two they covered their faces and with two their feet and with two they flew, and they cried one to another and said: Holy, holy, holy, Lord Sabaoth." Truly holy, because he has deemed our nature worthy of so many and such great mysteries, because he has made us partakers of such secret things. Shuddering and trembling seized me in the midst of this song.

And what is wonderful if this holds me, the clay vessel and one from the earth, when even the very powers above are continually held by the greatest amazement? For this reason, at any rate, they turn away their faces and thrust their wings forward as a wall, unable to bear the rays from there. And yet, he says, what appeared was a condescension. How then did they not bear it? Do you say these things to me? Tell those who busy themselves with the ineffable and blessed nature, those who dare the undared. The Seraphim were not able even to see a condescension, and would a man dare to say—or rather, could a man take it into his mind—that he is able to see the pure nature with exactness and clearly? Tremble, heaven; be astonished, earth: these daring deeds are greater than those. For what those men were impious in then, these men are impious in now. For they worship the creation likewise; but what these men have now devised, no man of that time dared either to say or to hear. What do you say? What appeared was a condescension? Yes, but a condescension of God. For if Daniel, who had great boldness toward God, did not endure to see an angel who had condescended to him, but fell and lay face down, the bonds of his body being loosed, what is wonderful if the Seraphim were struck with amazement, not bearing to see that glory? For the distance between Daniel and the angel is not as great as that between God and those powers. But so that we too, lingering longer on these wonders, may not bring your souls into amazement, come, let us turn back to the beginning of the history, entertaining you with simpler narratives.

And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died. It is worth first inquiring for what reason the prophet marks out the times for us; for he does not do this simply or at random. For the mouths of the prophets are the mouth of God; and such a mouth would say nothing carelessly. Let us therefore not listen carelessly either. For if those who dig for metals do not pass over even the small grains of gold, but whenever they lay hold of a vein of gold-bearing ore, they examine the fibers closely, how much more ought we to do this with the Scriptures? And yet in the case of metals the discovery of what is sought is very hard to hunt down. For since both the metals are earth and the gold is nothing other than earth, and the kinship of nature in the things sought deceives the eyes, nevertheless even so those men do not give up, but display all diligence—and yet they know by seeing what is truly earth and what is truly gold. But with the Scripture it is not so. For the gold does not lie before us mixed with earth, but it is pure gold, silver tried in the fire, proven in the earth. For the Scriptures are not mines needing working, but they provide a ready treasure to those who seek the wealth that comes from them. For it is enough only to stoop down and to depart filled with every benefit; it is enough only to open and immediately to behold the gleam of the stones.

I have not said these things without purpose, nor have I stretched out my discourse at random, but because there are certain crude men who, whenever they take the divine books in their hands and then find a number of years or a list of names set down, immediately run past them and say to those who reproach them: "It is only names and has nothing useful in it." What are you saying? God speaks, and you dare to say that nothing useful is among the things spoken? For if you should see only a bare inscription, will you not, tell me, stop with earnestness and search out the wealth that lies in it? And why do I speak of years and names and inscriptions? Learn how much the addition of even a single letter avails, and cease despising whole names. Our patriarch Abraham—for he belongs to us rather than to the Jews—was first called Abram, which when interpreted means "wanderer"; but after these things, having been renamed Abraham, he became father of all the nations, and the addition of one letter entrusted such great rule to the righteous man. For just as kings hand golden tablets to their officials as a symbol of rule, so too God then gave that letter to that righteous man as a symbol of honor. But concerning names I will explain at another time; how great the gain of years when they are known, and how great the harm when they are unknown, it is necessary to speak of. And first I will demonstrate it to you from everyday matters. Contracts and documents concerning marriages, concerning debts, concerning other agreements, if they do not have the years of the consulate written at the top, are destitute of all their own force.

For this is the strong point in those documents, this removes disputes, this delivers from lawcourts and makes enemies friends. For this reason those who write these documents, like a lamp on a lampstand, stamp the consulate at the top of the writing, so that everything written below may be visible. And if you remove these things, you have removed the light and filled everything with darkness and great confusion. For this reason every giving and receiving, whether it takes place with friends, or with enemies, or with servants, or with stewards and household managers, needs this security, and everywhere we write months and years and days below. If, then, in worldly affairs the force of this matter is so great, in spiritual matters it is far greater and more useful. For this shows prophecies to be prophecies. For what else is a prophecy at all, but a foretelling of things to come? Therefore, how will the one who is ignorant of the times of the things said or of the things that came to pass be able to demonstrate the worth of prophecy to the one who disputes it? From this come our contests and victories against the Greeks, when we show that our things are older than theirs; from this we have many proofs of the truth against the Jews—against the wretched and miserable Jews, who through ignorance of the times fell into the greatest error. For if they had heard the patriarch saying, "A ruler shall not fail from Judah, nor a leader from

of his thighs, until he comes to whom it is reserved"; and if they had carefully observed the times of his coming, they would not have fallen away from Christ and fallen into the Antichrist. Just as Christ himself also hinted at this to them, saying, "I came in the name of my Father, and you did not receive me; if another comes in his own name, you will receive him." Do you see how great a fall has come from ignorance of the times? Do not, then, neglect so great a benefit. For just as boundaries and pillars in the fields do not allow the portions to be confused, so times and seasons do not allow affairs to collide with one another, but separating them from each other and arranging each in its proper order, they free us from great confusion. It is worthwhile, then, to tell you who this Uzziah was, and when he reigned, and over whom he reigned, and how great was the length of his rule, and how he ended his life; or rather, it is worthwhile now to be silent. For the account must be carried out into a boundless sea of histories. But those who are about to journey over such a sea must begin the voyage not when the sailors are exhausted but when they are at their peak. For this reason harbors and islands have been planted everywhere throughout the sea, so that both the helmsman and the sailor may rest, the one setting down the oar, the other rising from the helm; for this reason inns and lodgings have been devised everywhere along the roads, so that both beasts of burden and travelers may cease from their labors.

For this reason also a time of silence has been appointed for the word of teaching, so that we may neither wear ourselves out with the abundance of what is said, nor exhaust you. And Solomon too knows these times, speaking thus: "There is a time to be silent and a time to speak." Let there be, then, a time for us to be silent, so that there may be a time for the teacher to speak. For our words are like wine freshly drawn from the vats, but his are like wine grown old and aged, providing both great benefit and strength to those who receive it; and that saying of the Gospel has come to pass today: for after the lesser wine, the better is brought in. And just as it was not a vine that produced that wine then, but the power of Christ did so, so too the word of this one is not poured out by human understanding, but by the grace of the Spirit. Therefore, upon these abundant and spiritual streams, let us receive them with zeal, let us keep them with safety, so that, watered by them continually, we may bear ripe fruit to God who has granted these things; with whom be glory to the Father with the Holy Spirit forever. Amen.

To the passage of Chronicles that says, "The heart of Uzziah was lifted up," and concerning humility, and that the virtuous man must not be confident, and how great an evil is presumption. Blessed be God, and in our own generation too martyrs have sprouted; we have been deemed worthy also ourselves to see men slaughtered for Christ, dripping holy blood, watering the whole Church, dripping blood fearful to demons but longed for by angels and saving for us. We have been deemed worthy to see men wrestling for piety, being crowned. Nor have we been deemed worthy only to see, but also to receive the very bodies of the athletes, and we now have the crowned victors among us. But let us now leave the discourse concerning the martyrs to the zealot of the martyrs, the common teacher; and we ourselves will now speak to you of the events concerning Uzziah, paying off an old debt and loosening long-standing birth-pangs of hearing. For each one of you was in labor, I know well, to hear that history; and we have prolonged this labor, not wishing to intensify your pain, but striving to increase your desire, so that our banquet might appear most pleasant to you. For the wealthy among hosts, if they find the guests already filled, could by the lavishness of what has been prepared rouse their desire; but nothing makes the table of the poor appear so splendid as the guests who are to partake of it arriving hungry.

Who, then, is Uzziah, and whose descendant, and king over whom, and for how long a time did he reign, and what did he set right, and where did he fail, and how did he end his life? All these things we shall tell you now—or rather, as many as can be told—so as not to bury your memory by their abundance; which also happens with the fire of the lampstand. For if you drip the oil onto the wick little by little, you have given the fire sufficient nourishment; but if you pour it all at once, you have extinguished even the flame that was there. This Uzziah, then, was a descendant of David, and king of the Jews; and he reigned fifty-two years; and though in the beginning he was well approved, afterward he fell into sin. For having thought greater things than his own worth, he rushed upon the office of the priesthood. So great an evil is presumption; for it persuades each person to be ignorant even of himself, and after many labors it empties the whole treasure of virtue. And the other evils are naturally overcome when we are negligent, but this one grows upon us when we succeed. For nothing is so accustomed to give birth to presumption as a good conscience, unless we take heed. For this reason Christ also, knowing that after our successes this passion steals in upon us, said to his disciples: "When you have done all things, say that we are unprofitable servants." For when the beast is about to steal in upon you, then, he says, by these words shut the doors against it. And he did not say: When you have done all things, you are unprofitable; but: "You say that we are unprofitable." Say it, do not be afraid, for I do not bring the verdict from your judgment.

For if you call yourself useless, I will crown you as useful. So he says elsewhere too: "Speak your lawless deeds first, that you may be justified." For in external courts, death follows the accusation of the one who has sinned; but in the divine court, a crown follows the accusation of sins. Therefore Solomon also said: "Do not justify yourself before the Lord." But Uzziah heard none of these things, but entered the temple and wished to burn incense, and when the priest prevented him he did not endure it. What then did God do? He sent leprosy upon his forehead, punishing the shameless face and teaching him that the court is divine and that the war was not against men. And these were the things concerning Uzziah. Come then, let us go over the history itself from the beginning. For this reason I myself also, having gone ahead, recounted to you in brief all that had happened, so that when you hear the Scripture proclaiming these things, you may follow them with precision. But pay attention. "And Uzziah did," it says, "what was right before the Lord." By these words he testified to great virtue in him. For he did not merely do what was right, but even before God, not for the display of men, like those among the Jews who trumpet before their almsgiving, who disfigure their faces in their fastings, who make their prayers in the streets; than whom what could be more wretched, when they endure the labors but are deprived of every reward? What are you doing, man? You are about to give an account to one for what has been done, and you call another as witness of what is happening?

Do you have one judge and seat another as spectator? Do you not see the charioteers, who, when the whole city sits above at the contests of horses, running past every part of the stadium, strive there to overturn the chariots of their rivals, wherever they see the king sitting, and they consider one eye more trustworthy than so many sights? But you, seeing the very king of the angels presiding over your races, leave him and flee to the eyes of your fellow servants? For this reason, after countless wrestlings you withdraw uncrowned, after many sweats you depart without prizes to the judge of the contest. But Ozias was not like this, but he did what was right before the Lord. How then, living his life with such exactness, was he tripped up and fell? For this I too marvel at and am perplexed by—or rather, this would not be worthy of perplexity; for he was a man, a thing easily slipping into sin and swift-flowing toward evil. And this is not the only difficult thing, but also that we have been commanded to walk a narrow and compressed road, hemmed in on both sides by precipices. When, therefore, both the ease of the will and the difficulty of the road come together into the same, no longer marvel concerning transgressions? For just as in the theaters those who practice climbing up and down the rope stretched from below to above, if they look aside a little, are overturned and carried down into the orchestra and perish; so also those who walk this road, if they grow a little slack, are hurled down.

For this road too is that of the rope, and it is narrower and steeper and more uphill and far higher; for it ends up at heaven itself, and then our steps will be more precarious for us, when we are up and near the very summit. For for those standing on a height there is great trembling, and only one safety remains: not to look down, nor to see the earth. For from there the dizziness becomes severe. For this reason the prophet continually cries out to us, saying: "In the end, do not destroy," restraining our soul when it is slack and holding it up and keeping it from falling when it is about to fall. For in the beginning we do not need much encouragement. Why ever so? Because every man, even if he is the dullest of all, when about to take up a matter, displays great zeal in the preludes, and while his eagerness is at its peak and his strength is still fresh, he easily sets out toward what lies before him; but when we have advanced the greater part of the road and our eagerness has withered and our strength has failed, and we are about to fall, then the prophet stands by us at the right moment, offering this refrain like a staff and saying: "In the end, do not destroy." For the devil too then blows more violently. And just as pirates at sea do not attack when they see the ships leaving the harbor—for what profit is it to them to sink an empty vessel?

But when it returns carrying a full cargo, then they set every device in motion; so too that wicked demon, when he sees that someone has gathered much—fasting, prayers, almsgiving, chastity, and every other virtue—when he sees our ship full of the precious stones of piety, then he attacks, digging through the treasure from every side, so as to sink the vessel right at the very mouth of the harbor and send them stripped bare to that harbor thereafter. For this reason the prophet commands all, saying: "In the end, do not destroy." For after such a fall, rising again is hard to recall. "For he who has come into the depth of evils despises." And all of us forgive those who fall at the beginning, because of their inexperience; but one who has been tripped up after many laps no one would readily deem worthy of forgiveness or defense; for then the fall seems to be the result of negligence. And this is not the only terrible thing, but that many are those who are scandalized by the falls of such a person, so that in this respect too it is again unforgivable

Sin becomes the outcome. Knowing these things, then, let us listen to the prophet and not be corrupted in the end. For this reason Ezekiel too cries out, saying: "If a man becomes righteous, and then turning falls into sin, his righteous deeds shall not be remembered for him, but in his sin he shall die." For he too has feared concerning the end. And not only from this, but also through the opposite he shows that the matter has great force. "For if a man becomes a sinner," he says, "and then changing becomes righteous, his sins shall not be remembered; in his righteousness he shall live." Do you see here too that he makes great provision for the end? For so that the righteous man, trusting in his righteousness and inclining to negligence, should not perish, he frightens him by means of the end; and so that the sinner, despairing over his transgressions, should not remain forever in his fall, he raises him up by means of the end. You have sinned much, he says, but do not despair; for there is a return, if you show the end to be the opposite of the beginning. Again to the righteous man: You have accomplished much, he says, but do not be confident; for it happens that one may also fall, if you do not maintain equal zeal through to the end. Do you see how he has removed the one's negligence and the other's despair? But Uzziah did not listen to any of these things; therefore, becoming confident, he fell into a grievous and incurable fall. For not every fall produces an equal wound in us, but of sins some lie under condemnation only, while others receive the most grievous punishment. At any rate, when Paul rebuked those who did not wait for their brothers at the common meals, he spoke thus:

Now in giving this charge, I do not praise you." Do you see that the sin is brought to the point of condemnation and that the penalty carries reproach? But he does not do so when he is discoursing about fornication. How, then? "If anyone destroys the temple of God, God will destroy him." For here there is no reproach, nor condemnation, but the most severe punishment. Solomon too knew the differences among sins; at any rate, comparing theft with adultery, he speaks somehow like this: "It is no wonder if someone is caught stealing; for he steals that he may fill his hungry soul; but the adulterer, through lack of sense, procures destruction for his own soul." This is a sin and that is a sin, he says, but the one is lesser and the other greater; for the one has the excuse of poverty, but the other is deprived of every defense. But even this one, he says, has the compulsion of natural desire. But the wife allotted to him does not permit it, but stands by, depriving him of forgiveness. For this is why marriage and lawful enjoyment exist, so that the man may have nothing of these things to say. For this reason the woman was given to him as a helper, that she might restrain nature when it rages, that she might calm the waves of desire. Just as, then, a pilot who causes a shipwreck in the harbor would obtain no pardon, so too the man who, after the safety that comes from marriage, digs through the marriages of another, or looks with meddlesome curiosity at any woman whatsoever, would obtain no defense, neither among men nor before God, even if he should say ten thousand times the pleasure of nature.

But rather, what pleasure could there be where there is fear and agony and danger and the expectation of so many dreadful things, where there are courts and audits and the judge's anger and the sword and the executioner and the pit and the noose? Such a man trembles and is afraid of everything—the shadows, the walls, the very stones, as though they were uttering a voice; he looks with suspicion and distrust on everyone—servants, neighbors, friends, enemies, those who know everything, those who know nothing. And more than that, if you wish, let even these things be removed, and let no one know of the deeds dared, but only he himself together with the woman who was outraged: how will he bear the accusation of conscience, carrying a bitter accuser everywhere? For just as no one could ever flee from himself, so neither from the verdict of that tribunal. This court is not corrupted by money, nor does it yield to flatteries; for it is divine and established by God in our souls. Truly "the adulterer, through lack of sense, brings destruction upon his own soul." Nor indeed is the thief deprived of punishment, but he pays a lesser penalty. For comparisons do not thrust the things compared into the opposite rank, but leaving them in their own place, they introduce diminution and superiority. Perhaps you did not understand what was said; then it is necessary to speak more clearly. Marriage is good, but virginity is better; not because virginity is better is marriage for this reason evil, but it is less than that, yet itself also good. So also here: theft is evil, but adultery is worse;

It is not because adultery is worse that theft is not evil, but it is less than that, yet it too is evil. Do you see the differences among sins? Let us see, then, what sort of sin this man committed. "His heart was lifted up," it says. The wound is severe; for it is madness, madness the source of all evils. And so that you may learn concisely the wickedness of the disease, hear this. The other sins revolve around our own nature, but pride dragged down an incorporeal power and cast it down from on high. For this is what made the devil a devil, though he was not previously a devil. And if we bring forward Isaiah as a witness, who speaks thus concerning him: "I will ascend into heaven, and I will be like the Most High," those who do not gladly accept allegories will reject our testimony; but if we set Paul before him as accuser, no one will any longer contradict. What then does Paul write to Timothy? That one who has just touched the preaching must not be led to the great dignity of the episcopate; he says somewhat as follows: "Not a novice, lest, being puffed up, he fall into the judgment [and snare] of the devil"—lest, he says, having sinned the same sins as that one, he be punished the same as he.

And this is clear not only from this, but also from what that evil demon advised the first man of all to do. For just as it is the habit of the good to recommend to their neighbors those things through which they themselves became good, so too it is the habit of the wicked to suggest to their neighbors such things through which they themselves became base. For this also is one form of their wickedness, and they consider the destruction of others a consolation for their own punishment. What, then, did the devil advise Adam? To take a conception of himself greater than his own nature and to hope for equality with God. For if this, he says, cast me out of heaven, much more will this same thing cast him out of paradise. For this reason Solomon also said: "God opposes the proud." He did not say that God abandons the proud and forsakes them and strips them of his own help, but "he opposes," he says—not that he needed a battle-line and a fight against the proud man; for what could be weaker than a proud man? For just as one who has lost his eyesight lies exposed to all for suffering harm, so the proud man, who does not know the Lord—"for the beginning of pride," he says, "is not knowing the Lord"—is easily captured by men, having fallen from that light. But if he were strong, God would not have needed a battle-line against him; for he whose will sufficed to bring all things forth would much more have sufficed also for their destruction. For what reason, then, does he say, does he oppose? In order to show the vehemence of his hatred toward the proud man.

That the wound of pride is indeed grievous is clear both from these things and from many other considerations. But if you wish, let us also learn the very cause from which the sore arose. For it is the habit of Scripture, whenever it is about to accuse someone, not only to state his sin, but also to teach us the cause of the sin; and it does this, making those who are healthy more secure against falling into the same things. Thus also physicians, when they visit the sick, trace out the sources even before the diseases, so as to check the evil from above; for he who cuts off only the shoots while the root remains labors to no other end than in vain. Where, then, did Scripture state both the sin and the cause of the sin? It accuses those who lived before the flood of improper unions; and hear how it sets down the cause: "The sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair, and they took them as wives for themselves." What then—is beauty the cause of sin? By no means; for it is the work of God's wisdom, and a work of God could never be a cause of wickedness. But is it seeing? Not this either; for this too is a work of nature. But what? Seeing badly; for this belongs to a corrupted will. Therefore a certain wise man also advises, saying: "Do not gaze intently upon another's beauty." He did not say, "Do not see"—for it happens that this occurs even spontaneously—but "Do not gaze intently," he says, abolishing the contemplation that comes from dwelling on it, the meddlesome look, the observation accompanied by lingering, the viewing that comes from a corrupted and lustful soul.

And what harm, he says, could come from this? "From this," he says, "love is kindled like fire." For just as fire, when it takes hold of some grass or stubble, does not wait for some time, but as soon as it touches the material, it kindles a bright flame—so too the fire of desire within us, when through the eyes it touches a beautiful and radiant sight, immediately sets ablaze the souls of those who look. Do not, then, look at the fleeting pleasure that comes from the sight, but consider the unceasing pain that comes from the desire. For the one, having inflicted a great wound, has often sprung away; but the wound does not spring away, but remains and destroys. And just as a deer that has received an arrow in a vital part of the body, even if it escapes the hands of the hunters, gains nothing thereafter, so too a soul that has received the arrow of desire from licentious and idle gazing, even if it lets the arrow go and departs, is itself corrupted and destroyed, seeing the enemy everywhere and having him following after. But as I was saying—for it is not right to allow long digressions in the discourse—that Scripture is accustomed to state both the sins and their causes; hear, then, what it says here also concerning Uzziah. For it did not only teach us that his heart was lifted up, but it also added from where it was lifted up. From where, then, was it lifted up? "When he became strong," it says, "his heart was lifted up." He could not bear the greatness of his power, but just as inflammation comes from gluttony, and fever is born from inflammation, and then often death from there, so too here, from the great abundance of affairs, madness arose.

For what inflammation is to bodies, that madness is to souls. Then from madness comes desire for things that do not belong to him. We do not lengthen these matters without purpose, but so that you may never consider those in positions of power to be enviable[, nor call them blessed], knowing how great the danger of the matter is, and so that you may never regard those in poverty and hardship as wretched, knowing that from this comes greater security. Therefore the prophet also cried out, saying: "It is good for me, Lord, that you humbled me." Consider, then, how great the evil has come from exaltation. "His heart was lifted up until it destroyed," he says. What is this? "Until it destroyed?" Of evil thoughts, some do not even enter our soul at all, if we fence ourselves about with great security; others are begotten within, when we are negligent, and they sprout; but if they are anticipated, they are quickly stifled and buried. Others are both begotten and grow and issue forth into evil deeds and destroy all the health of our soul, when we are in great negligence. This, then, is what he says: "His heart was lifted up"; and the madness did not remain within, nor

it was quenched, but it leaped out, and having come to an evil deed, it corrupted all his virtue. The blessed state, then, is not even to receive the evil thought at all; which indeed the prophet also said: "Lord, my heart was not lifted up." And he did not say, "It was lifted up, but I restrained it," but rather, "It was not lifted up at the very beginning," that is, I kept the soul wholly inaccessible to evil. This, then, is the blessed state; the second after it is to thrust away the thoughts quickly once they have entered and not allow them to linger longer, so that they do not make an evil pasturage in us. But if we are careless even to this point, there is, through God's love for humanity, a consolation even for this carelessness, and many remedies have been prepared by that ineffable and great goodness for such wounds. But come, let us now put an end to the discourse, lest this very thing which we feared at the beginning should now happen and the length of it should damage your memory. For which reason it is also necessary to recapitulate briefly what has been said. For mothers do this too: whenever they put fruit or sweetmeats or something of the sort into a child's bosom, so that nothing of what was given to them may fall out through the children's carelessness, they wrap the little tunic all around and secure it with the fastening of the belt. Let us do this as well: let us draw in the discourse that has been stretched out at length and entrust it to the guard of memory. You have heard how we must do nothing for the display of men, and how great an evil carelessness is, how it easily tripped up even the one living a life of strictness.

You know how much zeal we need, and especially in relation to the very ends of life, and how one who has changed his ways ought neither to despair over his transgressions nor the careless man to be confident in his successes. We have spoken to you about the difference of sins, about not gaping at the splendid bodies, and how great an evil we showed from this. Remember what was said to you about despair, what was said about evil thoughts. Keeping these things, let us withdraw home; or rather, keeping these things, let us also receive the more perfect exhortation of the noble teacher. For our own words, whatever they may be, bear the marks of youth; but his, whatever they may be, are adorned with the gray hair of understanding. And our words resemble a stream rushing with a roar; but his resemble a spring sending forth rivers with much stillness, imitating the course of oil rather than of waters. Let us therefore receive the streams, so that there may be in us "a spring of water leaping up to eternal life"; may we all attain it, by the grace and love of mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen.

On the passage of the prophet Isaiah that says, "It came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne high and lifted up," and a praise of the city of Antioch, and a God-inspired demonstration against those who hinder marriage. Bright today has our theater become, and radiant our assembly. What then is the cause? The harvest of today is the fruit of yesterday's seeds. Yesterday we planted, and today we gather. For we do not farm lifeless earth, that it should be slow, but rational souls. It is not nature that delays, but grace that hastens. Orderly is our people, eager to hear is the populace. Yesterday they were called, and today they are crowned. The fruit of yesterday's exhortation is today's obedience. For this reason we also sow the seeds with eagerness, because we see the field clean, nowhere a thorn choking, nor a path being trodden, nor a barren rock, but some deep and rich soil, receiving the seeds and at the same time providing us the ear of grain. These things I say, and saying them always I will not cease: that this is a praise of our city—not because it has a senate and we can count consuls, nor because it has many statues, nor because of abundance of wares, nor because of the convenience of its site, but because it has a people eager to hear and temples of God filled, and the Church feasts more each day on a word that flows and a longing never satisfied. For the city is admired not from its buildings but from its inhabitants. Do not tell me that the city of the Romans is great in size; but show me there a people so eager to hear.

For Sodom too had towers, while Abraham had only a hut; yet when the angels came, they passed by Sodom and descended to the hut. For they were not seeking the splendor of houses, but were going about in search of the virtue of the soul. So too in another way the wilderness had John, and the city had Herod; for this reason the wilderness was more discerning than the city. Why ever so? Because prophecy is not in buildings. And I say this so that we may never praise a city on the basis of things that are destroyed. Why do you tell me of buildings and columns? These are destroyed together with the present life. Enter into the church and see the nobility of the city. Enter and see the poor persevering from midnight until day, see the sacred all-night vigils joined to day and night, see a people that loves Christ, fearing neither the necessity of poverty by day, nor the tyranny of sleep by night. A great city and a metropolis of the world. How many bishops, how many teachers have come here and, having been instructed by the people, depart and prepare to transplant elsewhere the law that is implanted by nature? If you tell me of dignities and abundance of wealth, you are praising the tree from its leaves and not from its fruit. And I say this not flattering your love, but proclaiming your virtue. Blessed am I because of you, blessed are you because of yourselves. Blessed is the one who speaks into ears that hear; thus I have become blessed. "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness." See how you have become blessed because of yourselves. Blessed is the man who loves spiritual words. This is what distinguishes us from irrational beasts.

For it is not the constitution of the body, nor eating, nor drinking, nor grazing, nor living—for all these things are common to us and to the irrational animals—but what distinguishes man from the irrational animals? By reason; for this reason man is also a rational living being. For just as bodies are nourished, so also the soul is nourished; but the body is nourished by bread, and the soul by reason. Tell me: if you should see a man eating stones, would you say he is a man? In the same way, if you should see one not nourished by reason but by irrationality, you would say: This one has lost even the very being of a man; for his nurture shows the nobility of the man. Since, then, the theater has been filled for us, and again the sea is stirred up and full of calm, and again the deep is storm-tossed and still, come, let us drag out the ship, spreading out the tongue instead of the sail, calling upon the grace of the Spirit instead of the west wind, using the cross as pilot instead of the prow and the rudder. For the sea has salt waters, but here there is living water. There are irrational animals there, but here rational souls; there those who sail from sea to land, but here those who sail from earth to heaven come to anchor; there are ships there, but here spiritual words; there are planks in the ship, but here are compacted words; there is a sail, but here a tongue; there the breeze of the west wind, but here the visitation of the Spirit; there a man is pilot, but here the pilot is Christ. For this reason the ship is storm-tossed, but it does not sink. For it could have sailed even in calm, but the pilot did not permit it, so that also the

You would see the endurance of those who sail and accurately learn the understanding of the pilot. Let Greeks hear, let Jews hear of our achievements and the preeminence of the Church. By how many was the Church warred against, yet she was never conquered? How many tyrants? How many generals? How many kings? Augustus, Tiberius, Gaius, Claudius, Nero—men honored in words, powerful—warred against her while she was still in youthful vigor, but they did not uproot her. But those who warred against her have been silenced and handed over to forgetfulness, while she who was warred against rises above the heavens. For do not look at this, that the Church stands on earth, but that she has her citizenship in heaven. From where is this clear? The proof of the facts demonstrates it. Eleven disciples were warred against, and the whole world warred against them; but those who were warred against conquered, and those who warred were destroyed; the sheep prevailed over the wolves. Did you see the shepherd sending the sheep into the midst of the wolves, so that they might not procure safety even by flight? What shepherd does this? But Christ did this, to show you that achievements come about not according to the sequence of events, but beyond nature and sequence. For the Church is rooted rather in heaven. But perhaps the Greek condemns me as foolish; but let him await the proof of the facts and learn the strength of the truth. How? It is easier for the sun to be extinguished than for the Church to be destroyed. Who is it, he says, who proclaims these things? The one who founded her: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away." These things he not only said, but also fulfilled.

For why did he rather establish her greater than heaven? For the Church is more precious than heaven. Why heaven? For the sake of the Church, not the Church for the sake of heaven. And heaven is for the sake of man, not man for the sake of heaven. And it is clear from what he himself made. For Christ did not take up a heavenly body. But so that we may not, by prolonging the discourse, withdraw again today as debtors—for you know how many things we promised yesterday, and we are ready to pay them today. For it was on account of those who were absent that I postponed it. Since, then, those who were absent have fulfilled their own part and have granted us their presence, a table filled with expenditures, come now, let us set before you the dishes—dishes not stale; for even if they were from yesterday, they do not become stale. Why ever so? They are not meats, so as to be corrupted, but thoughts blooming perpetually. For meats are corrupted, for they are body; but thoughts, remaining, become more fragrant. What, then, was it that we said yesterday? For we too enjoyed a table yesterday, and those who were absent were not harmed. "And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died, I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up." Who says these things? Isaiah, the beholder of the Seraphim, who had dealings with marriage and did not extinguish the grace. And you have given heed to the prophet, but hear the prophet also today: "Go forth, you and Jasoúph your son." It is necessary not to pass over these things either. "Go forth, you and your son." Did the prophet have a son? Consequently, if a son, also a wife, so that you may learn that marriage is not a base thing, but fornication is an evil. But since we are conversing with many people and saying:

Why do you not live rightly, why do you not show forth a strict manner of life? How can I, he says, unless I renounce a wife, unless I renounce children, unless I renounce possessions? Why? Is marriage a hindrance? A wife has been given to you as a helper, not as a plotter against you. Did the prophet not have a wife? And marriage was no hindrance to the Spirit; but he both conversed with his wife and was a prophet. Did Moses not have a wife? Yet he both split rocks and changed the air and conversed with God and restrained the wrath sent from God. Did Abraham not have a wife? And he became the father of many nations and of the Church; for he had Isaac as a son. Did this not become for him a basis for right achievements? Did he not offer up the child, the fruit of marriage? Did he not become both a father and a lover of God? Was it not possible to see a priest born from his own loins? A priest and a father? Nature being conquered and piety prevailing? Loins being trampled and pious achievements prevailing? And the father being released and the lover of God being crowned? Did you not see the whole man, both a lover of his child and a lover of God? Did marriage hinder him? What then? Was not the mother of the Maccabees a woman? Did she not give seven sons, the choir of the saints? Did she not see them bear witness? Did she not stand like a mountain, unshaken? Did she not stand by, bearing witness to each one of them, both a mother of martyrs and herself a martyr seven times over? For while they were being tormented, she herself received the blow. For she did not bear what was happening in such a way as to be untouched by it; for she was a mother, and the outrage against nature displayed its own power; but she was not conquered. For she was a sea and waves;

But just as the sea, when it rages, is brought to rest, so too nature, when stirred up, was curbed by the fear of God. How did he anoint them? How did he nourish them? How did he set up seven temples to God, golden statues, or rather more precious than gold? For gold does not shine as brightly as the soul of martyrs. The tyrant stood and, defeated by a single woman, withdrew. He besieged with weapons, and she prevailed by zeal; he kindled a furnace, and she the virtue of the Spirit; he set an army in motion, and she sailed over to the angels; she saw the tyrant below and considered the King above; she saw the torments below and counted the prizes above; she saw the present punishment and considered the future immortality. [Therefore Paul also said: "While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen."] Was marriage then a hindrance? What about Peter, the foundation of the Church, the mad lover of Christ, the uneducated in speech who surpassed the orators, the ignorant man who stopped the mouths of philosophers, the one who dissolved the Greek religion like a spider's web, the one who ran around the world, the one who netted the sea and fished the world—did he not also have a wife? Yes, he had one. And that he had one, hear the evangelist. What does he say? "Jesus entered to Peter's mother-in-law, who was sick with a fever." Where there is a mother-in-law, there is also a wife; where there is a wife, there is also marriage. What about Philip? Did he not have four daughters? Where there are four daughters, there is also a wife and marriage. What then of Christ?

From a virgin, yes, but he came to a marriage and brought a gift; for "They have no wine," he says; and he made the water wine, honoring marriage by his virginity, marveling at the deed by his gift; so that you may not loathe marriage, but hate fornication. At my own risk I guarantee your salvation, even if you have a wife. Pay attention to yourself. If a wife is useful, she is a helper to you. What then if she is not useful? Make her useful. Were there not good women and bad, so that you might have no excuse? What sort of woman was Job's? And Sarah was beautiful. I will show you a worthless and wicked woman. Job's wife did not harm her husband; she was wicked and worthless, for she advised him to blaspheme. What then? Did she shake the tower? Did she bring down the adamant? Did she overcome the rock? Did she strike down the soldier? Did she pierce the hull? Did she uproot the tree? None of these things; but she struck against it, and the tower became more secure; she herself stirred up the waves, and the ship was not sunk, but sailed with a fair wind; its fruit was harvested, and the tree was not shaken; the leaves fell, and the root remained unshaken. I say these things so that no one may use a woman's wickedness as an excuse. Is she worthless? Correct her. But, he says, she cast me out of paradise. But she also carried you up to the heavens. The same nature,

The judgment is different. But is Job's judgment base? But Susanna's is good. But is the Egyptian woman unchaste? But Sarah is modest. Did you see that one? Look also at this one; since also among men some are base, and some are earnest. Joseph is good, but the elders are unchaste. You saw everywhere vice and virtue, not judged by nature, but divided by judgment. No excuses for me; but let us hasten to the debts and the payment. "And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died." I am about to say why the prophet marks the time; for we were seeking yesterday why, when all the prophets are accustomed to speak of the time of the kings' life, and of this very one, here the custom was broken; and he does not say, "In the days of Uzziah," but "at the death of Uzziah." This I wish to resolve today. For even if the heat is great, yet greater is the dew of the word; for even if the body is constrained, growing soft, yet the soul, flourishing, is gladdened. Do not tell me of heat and sweat; if you sweat in the body, you wipe clean your mind. The three youths were in the furnace and suffered nothing, but the furnace became dew. When you consider sweat, consider also the reward and the recompense. For a diver, a man, ventures for nothing else to cast himself into the depth of the waters than for pearls, the pretext of the war. But I do not slander the material, but the unchaste judgment. And you, in order that you may receive an unfailing treasure and plant a vine in your soul, do you not endure heat, nor sweat?

Do you not see those sitting in the theater, how they sweat and with bare head receive the sun's ray, so that they may become captives of death, so that they may be slaves of a prostitute? Those men labor for destruction, and do you grow weary for salvation? You are an athlete and a soldier. Do not, then, grow weary in the face of dangers, but bear the contests with good courage. Who, then, is that Uzziah, and why did he speak this end of his? This Uzziah was a king and a righteous man, and abounding in many achievements; but later at some point he came to folly, to folly, the mother of evils, to arrogance, the tumult of the sick, to pride, the destruction of the devil. For nothing is worse than folly; for this reason we also spent the whole discourse on this yesterday, tearing down folly and teaching humility. Shall I tell you how great a good humility is and how great an evil folly is? A sinner conquered a righteous man, the tax collector the Pharisee, and words prevailed over works. How words? The tax collector says: "O God, be merciful to me, a sinner." The Pharisee says: "I am not like the many of men, a robber or a covetous man." But what? "I fast twice a week, I tithe all that I possess." The Pharisee showed works of righteousness; the tax collector spoke words of humility, and words prevailed over works, and so great a treasure was blown away and so great a poverty was changed into wealth. Two ships came bearing cargo; both entered the harbor; but the tax collector was well moored in the harbor, while the Pharisee suffered shipwreck, so that you may learn how great an evil folly is. Are you righteous?

Do not humble your brother. Are you proud of your successes? Do not reproach your neighbor, and you will not cut short your own praise. The greater you are, the more you should humble yourself. And pay close attention to what I say, beloved. The righteous man ought rather to fear recklessness than the sinner—this I said yesterday, and today I say it for the sake of those who were absent yesterday—because the sinner has his conscience accusing him, and he must be humble-minded, while the righteous man is lifted up by his successes. Just as, then, in the case of ships, those who have an empty ship do not fear a band of pirates—for they do not come to pierce through a ship that has nothing in it—but those who have a ship full of cargo fear pirates; for the pirate goes where there is gold, where there is silver, where there are precious stones. So too the devil does not easily attack the sinner, but the righteous man, where there is great wealth. Since recklessness often comes from the devil's plotting, it is necessary to be sober. The greater you are, the more you should humble yourself. When you go up to a height, you need to be secured, so that you do not fall. Therefore our Lord also says: "When you have done all things, say, 'We are unprofitable servants.'" Why are you proud, being a man, kin to the earth, of one substance with ashes, not reckoning the changes of things in nature, in disposition, in choice? Today rich, tomorrow poor; today healthy, tomorrow sick; today rejoicing, tomorrow grieving; today in glory, tomorrow in dishonor; today in youth, tomorrow in old age. Does nothing human stand still? Rather, it imitates the course of river streams.

For as soon as it appears, it leaves us more easily than a shadow. Why then are you proud, O man, as smoke or vanity? "For man was likened to vanity." "His days are like smoke." "The grass withered, and its flower fell off." I say these things, not to belittle your substance, but to bridle your arrogance. For indeed "man is great, and a merciful man is honorable." But this Uzziah, being a king and wearing the diadem, since he was righteous, once thought great things, and thinking great things and greater than his worth, he entered the temple. And hear how: He entered, it says, into the holy of holies, then it says, I wish to burn incense. Being a king, he seizes the office of the priesthood. I wish, he says, to burn incense, since I am righteous. But stay within your own bounds; other are the bounds of kingship and other the bounds of the priesthood; but this is greater than that. For a king is not judged by appearances, nor by the stones set for him, and the gold with which he is surrounded. For this man received the lot to administer the things on earth; but the institution of the priesthood sits above. "Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven." The king is entrusted with the things here, I with the heavenly things; when I say "I," I mean the priest. Do not then, if you see an unworthy priest, slander the priesthood; for one must not slander the thing itself, but the one who uses the good badly; since even Judas became a traitor, but this is not an accusation of the apostolate, but of his own disposition; not a charge against the priesthood, but against the evil disposition.

And so do not slander the priesthood, but the one who uses what is good badly. For when someone converses with you and says, "Did you see this Christian?" say: "But I am conversing with you not about persons but about matters." For how many physicians became executioners and gave poisons instead of remedies? But I do not slander the art, but the one who used the art badly. How many sailors sank ships? But it was not seamanship, but their evil intent. If a Christian is worthless, do not accuse the doctrine and the priesthood, but blame the one who became worthless through negligence—or rather, do not blame him, but pray and weep that he may be changed. The king entrusts bodies, but the priest entrusts souls; the king remits remnants of money, but the priest remits remnants of sins; that one compels, this one exhorts; that one has perceptible weapons, this one spiritual weapons; that one makes war against barbarians, but my war is against demons. This rule is greater; for this reason the king brings his head under the hands of the priest, and everywhere in the Old Testament priests anointed kings. But that king, overstepping his own bounds and leaping beyond the measure of his kingship, attempted to add to it and entered the sanctuary with authority, wishing to burn incense. What then did the priest say? "It is not permitted to you, Oziah, to burn incense." See

boldness, a spirit not enslaved, a tongue touching heaven, unsubdued freedom, a body of man and a mind of an angel, walking on the earth and conducting himself in heaven. He saw the king and did not see the purple; he saw the king and did not see the diadem. Do not tell me of the kingdom, where there is lawlessness. "It is not lawful for you, O king, to burn incense in the holy of holies; you transgress the boundaries, you seek what has not been given; therefore you will also lose what you received. It is not lawful for you to burn incense, but for the priests." This is not yours, but mine. Did I seize your purple? Do not seize my priesthood. "It is not lawful for you to burn incense, except for the priests, the sons of Aaron." [After a long time, after the death of Aaron, this took place.] And why did he not say, "For the priests" only, but also mentioned the father? It happened at that time that something of this sort occurred. For Dathan and Abiram and Korah rose up against Aaron; the earth was opened and swallowed them; fire came from above and consumed them. Wishing therefore himself to remind of that history, that they once also assailed the priesthood, but it was not defeated, but a multitude came against it and God defended them. "It is not lawful for you to burn incense, except for the priests, the sons of Aaron." He did not say: Consider what those who did these things at that time suffered; he did not say: Consider that those who rose up were burned, but he named Aaron who was avenged and brought him into remembrance of the history, almost saying this: Do not dare the things of Dathan, lest you suffer such things as happened in the case of Aaron.

But King Uzziah did not endure this; rather, puffed up with folly, he entered the temple, threw open the holy of holies, wishing to offer incense. What then did God do? Since, then, the priest had been treated with contempt in an unseemly way, and the word of the priesthood was being trampled underfoot, and the priest could no longer do anything—for it is the priest's role only to reprove and to display boldness, not to wield weapons, nor to seize shields, nor to brandish a spear, nor to draw a bow, nor to send an arrow, but only to reprove and to display boldness—since, then, the priest reproved and the king did not yield, but was wielding weapons and shields and spears and was using his own resources, the priest, as if pleading his case before God, says: "I have done what was mine to do; I can do nothing more; do you yourself help the priesthood that is being trampled underfoot; the laws are being wronged, the ordinances are being overturned." What then did the lover of mankind do? He punished the audacious man, and immediately leprosy broke out on his forehead. Where there was shamelessness, there also was the punishment. Did you see the lovingkindness of God's punishment? He did not let loose a thunderbolt, he did not shake the earth, he did not convulse the heaven, but the leprosy broke out—not in another place but on the forehead, so that he might carry the trophy of his chastisement, so that it might lie there like letters on a pillar. For it did not happen for his sake, but for the sake of those after him. For though he was able to bring the punishment in full measure, he did not bring it, but like a law set in some lofty place saying: "Do not do such things, so that you may not suffer such things." A living law went forth, and the forehead sent forth a voice brighter than a trumpet.

There were letters inscribed on his forehead, letters that could not be erased—for it was not ink, so that someone might wipe them away, but from nature the leprosy both made him unclean and made the others clean. And just as condemned men, when they receive a rope, are led out with the rope at their mouth, so too this man, in place of a rope, had leprosy on his forehead as he was led away, because he had insulted the priesthood. I say these things not to slander kings, but those who are drunk with recklessness and rage, so that you may learn that the priesthood is greater than kingship. For God always, when the soul sins, punishes the body. So he did also in the case of Cain. The soul sinned by committing murder, and his body was paralyzed. How? Listen: "Groaning and trembling," it says, "you shall be on the earth." And Cain went about conversing with everyone, uttering a voice in silence, instructing by speechlessness. His tongue was silent and his limbs cried out, and he conversed with everyone as to why he groans, why he trembles: I killed a brother, I committed murder. Moses afterwards spoke through letters; that man went about through deeds, saying to all: "You shall not murder." Did you see a mouth that was silent and a deed that cried out? Did you see a living law being carried around? Did you see a pillar going about? Did you see a punishment becoming the abolition of honor? Did you see a chastisement becoming a basis for instruction? Did you see a soul sinning and the flesh being punished? And very reasonably. So indeed also in the case of John: the soul sinned and the tongue was bound; for since the instrument of the tongue had henceforth become useless, that one who had begotten the voice, Zechariah, was being punished.

Thus Uzziah too, having sinned, was struck with leprosy on his forehead, so that he might be disciplined. And from then on the king went out, becoming an example to all, and the temple was cleansed and he was cast out, with no one pushing him, and wishing to take on the priesthood he lost even what he had. And he went out from the temple. In ancient times it was the law that every leper be cast out outside the city; but now no longer. Why? Because God legislated as for children; then leprosy was of the body, but now the leprosy of the soul is sought. So the king went out in leprosy, and they did not cast him out of the city, perhaps out of reverence for his diadem and his kingship, but he sat there transgressing the law. What then did God do? Being angry with the Jews, he stopped the prophecy. So all these things were because of the word of the prophet, so that I might discharge the debt. But let me return to the matter at hand. The king went out from the temple, having been struck with leprosy. Since, then, it was necessary to cast him out of the city as well, according to custom, as unclean, the people tolerated him sitting inside and did nothing of what they ought, neither small nor great, in the matter of boldness. Since, therefore, they let him go, God turns away from them and stops the grace of prophecy; and very reasonably. For in return for the fact that they set aside his law and shrank from casting out the unclean man, he stops the prophetic gift. "And there was no precious word then, and there was no utterance prophesying," that is, God did not converse with them through prophets; for the Spirit did not breathe in them through whom they spoke, since they had the unclean man; and the grace of the Spirit did not work in the unclean.

For this reason he was not present, he did not appear to the prophets, but he is silent and hides himself. And so that what is said may become clear, I will make it evident by means of an example. Just as a man who is disposed toward someone with affection, when that person has grievously grieved him over some matter, says to him, "I will no longer look at you, I do not speak to you," so also God did then. For since they provoked him by not casting out Uzziah, he says, "I no longer speak to your prophets, I no longer send the grace of the Spirit." See the punishment full of gentleness. For he did not hurl thunderbolts, nor did he shake the city from its foundations; but what? "You do not wish me to exact vengeance?" he says, "I do not converse with you. Was I not able to cast him out? But I wished to leave what remained to you. You do not wish it? Then neither do I converse with you, nor do I stir the soul of the prophets. The grace of the Spirit does not work." Consequently from that time there was silence, a enmity between God and men. Since therefore that man died after these things, the matter of the curses was also dissolved. Since therefore the prophet had spent a long time without prophesying, and when that man died the wrath was dissolved and prophecy returned. For the rest, the prophet necessarily marks the time and says, "And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died, I saw the Lord sitting on a high and lifted up throne." When he died, then I saw the Lord. For before that I did not see God being angry with us. For the death of the unclean man came and dissolved the wrath. For this reason, everywhere speaking of the life of the kings, here

He spoke of the death of Uzziah: "It came to pass, he says, in the year in which Uzziah the king died, I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and lifted up." But here again it is possible to see the loving-kindness of God. The unclean man died, and God was reconciled with men. Why did this happen, when there were no good deeds, but by his dying? Because he is loving toward mankind and does not scrutinize such matters precisely; he sought only one thing, that the unclean man depart. Knowing these things, then, let us pursue folly no longer, let us embrace humility, let us send up the customary glory to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and always and unto the ages of ages. Amen. On the Remaining Deeds of Uzziah. Come then, today let us give the conclusion to the accounts concerning Uzziah and finally put the roof on the discourse, lest we too be mocked, just as that man in the Gospels who undertook to build the tower but was not able, lest one of those present say of us also: "This man began to build and was not able to finish." So that what is said may become clearer to you, let us briefly take up again some of what was said before, so that our discourse may not enter the spiritual theater without a head, but having received its proper appearance may be recognizable to the spectators. For the same things will be a reminder to those who have heard, and instruction to those who have not. Recently, then, we said how Uzziah was pious, and how he became base, and from where and to what point he slipped into folly.

But today it is necessary to say how he entered the temple, how he attempted to offer incense, how the priest prevented him, how he did not yield, how he drew upon himself the wrath of God, how he ended his life in leprosy, and for what reason the prophet passed over the days of his life and mentioned his death, saying thus: "In the year in which Uzziah the king died." For this is the reason why we have set in motion the whole account from the beginning; but pay close attention. "And it came to pass," he says, "when Uzziah the king had become strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction, and he did wrong against the Lord his God." What was the manner of the wrongdoing? "He entered," he says, "into the temple of the Lord, to offer incense upon the altar of incense." O the audacity, O the shamelessness! He dared to trespass upon the very holy of holies; he rushed into the holy of holies, a place inaccessible to all except the high priest alone, and he attempted to profane it. Such is the soul that has once for all despaired of its own salvation: it does not stop anywhere in its madness, but giving the reins of its salvation over to irrational desires, it is carried everywhere, and just as a hard-mouthed horse, having thrown the bit from its mouth and cast its rider backward from its back, is carried faster than any wind and is unbearable to those it meets—everyone fleeing, and no one daring to restrain it—so too the soul, having cast out the fear of God that curbs it and thrown off reason that guides it, overruns all the places of wickedness, until, carrying its own salvation down into the depths of destruction, it hurls it headlong.

Therefore it is necessary to check it continually and, as with a bridle, to rein in its irrational impulse by the reasoning of piety; which Uzziah did not do, but transgressed against the very highest authority of all. For the priesthood is an authority more august and greater even than kingship itself. For do not tell me of the purple robe, nor the diadem, nor the garments of gold. All those things are a shadow and more worthless than the flowers of spring. "For all the glory of man," it says, "is as the flower of grass," even if you mean the royal glory itself. Do not tell me these things, but if you wish to see the difference between priest and king, examine the measure of the authority given to each, and you will see the priest seated far higher than the king. For even if the royal throne appears splendid to us because of the stones set into it and the gold that encircles it, nevertheless it has been allotted to administer the things on earth and has nothing more than this authority; but the throne of the priesthood is established in the heavens and has been entrusted to administer the things there. Who says this? The very King of the heavens: "For whatever you bind," he says, "on earth shall be bound in the heavens; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in the heavens." What could be equal to this honor? From the earth heaven receives the beginning of judgment. Since the judge sits on the earth, the Master follows the servant; and whatever this one judges below, that one ratifies above.

And the priest stands between God and the nature of men, bringing down the honors from there to us and bringing up our supplications to there, reconciling him who is angered to the common nature, snatching us who have offended away from his hands. For this reason God also places the royal head itself under the hands of the priest, teaching us that the ruler is greater than that one; for "the lesser is blessed by the greater." But concerning the priesthood and how great the magnitude of its worth is, we will make clear at another time; for now let us see the magnitude of the king's injustice, or rather of the tyrant's. "He entered into the temple of the Lord, and Azariah the priest entered after him." Was I then speaking in vain when I said that the priest is greater than the king? For he did not come in as one about to drive out a king, but as one pursuing a runaway and an insolent household slave, he came in with vehemence, like a noble hound rushing upon the unclean beast, so as to drive it out of its master's house.

Did you see the soul of the priest full of great boldness and lofty spirit? He did not look to the bulk of the office, he did not consider how great a thing it is to restrain a soul drunk with desire, he did not hear Solomon saying, "The threat of a king is like the wrath of a lion"; but looking to the true King of the heavens, and having in mind that tribunal and those accounts, and having fortified himself with these reasonings, thus he leaped upon the tyrant. For he knew, he knew clearly that "the threat of a king is like the wrath of a lion," but for those who look to the earth; whereas for a man who imagines heaven and has prepared his soul to be sent forth within into the inner shrines, that man was more worthless than any dog, if he were to overlook the sacred laws being outraged. For nothing is weaker than the one who transgresses the divine laws; just as, then, nothing is stronger than the one who avenges the divine laws. "For everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin," even if he has countless crowns upon his head; but the one who works righteousness is more kingly than the king himself, even if he is the last of all. Having philosophized these things to himself, that noble man came in to the king. Let us therefore also come in with him, if it seems good, and let us see what he says in dialogue with the king. For it is permitted; and it is no small thing for the profit of the account, to see a king being reproved by a priest. What then does the priest say? "It is not permitted to you, Oziah, to burn incense to the Lord." He did not call him king, nor did he address him by the name of his office, since he had by his own act cast himself out of the honor. Did you see the boldness of the priest? Therefore also learn his gentleness.

For we need not boldness only when we are about to reprove, but gentleness also, and gentleness more than boldness. For since those who sin turn away from and hate no one of men so much as the one who is about to reprove them, and desire to lay hold of a pretext so as to leap away and escape the rebuke, we must therefore restrain them by gentleness and mildness. For such a man, not only uttering a voice but even being seen, will be burdensome to those who sin: "For he is burdensome to us," it says, "even when seen." Therefore we must display great gentleness. For this reason our discourse has also brought before your eyes both the one who sinned and the one wishing to correct him. For the wise among physicians, whenever they are about to cut putrid limbs, or to draw out stones lodged in the passages, or to correct some other defect of nature, do not take the sick man into a corner and do this, but set him forth in the midst of the marketplaces and gather a theater from those passing by, and so apply the incision. And they do this, not wishing to make a public mockery of human calamities, but teaching those who see, in others' bodies, to take great forethought for their own health. So also Scripture does: whenever it takes one of those who sin, it sets him forth on the height of proclamation, not in the midst of marketplaces, but in the midst of the earth; and having gathered the theater of the inhabited world, it thus displays the healing, teaching us to be more secure concerning our own salvation. Let us see, then, how the priest then attempted to correct this man. He did not say:

O vile and utterly vile man, you have overturned and confounded everything; you have leapt out to the utmost of impiety. Nor did he stretch out long speeches of accusation, but just as those who cut, when they are eager to make the incision quickly, stealing the perception of pain by the swiftness of the cut, so too this man by his brevity cut away the inflammation of the king. For what the surgeon is to wounds, reproof is to sins. And he displays his gentleness, along with other things, also through his brevity. But if you wish to see also the sharpness of his words, and where he hid the blade, listen: "It is not permitted to you," he says, "to burn incense to the Lord, but only to the priests, the sons of Aaron, those who have been sanctified." Here he struck the blow. How? I will tell you. For why did he not say simply "to the priests," but added "of Aaron"? This Aaron became the first high priest, and in his times such a daring deed was attempted. For Dathan and Korah and Abiram, having conspired against him together with certain others, attempted to cast him out of his office; but some the earth opened and swallowed up, and others fire coming down from above consumed. Wishing therefore to remind him of this history, he reminded him of Aaron who was then wronged, so as to direct his mind to the calamity of those who had done the wrong. Nevertheless nothing more came of it; but this was not due to the priest, but to the audacity of the king. For while he ought to have praised what was said and acknowledged gratitude for the counsel, he became angry, it says, and made the wound more grievous.

For sin is not so great an evil as is the shamelessness that comes after sin. But David was not like this; how then? After the accusation made by Nathan concerning Bathsheba, he says, "I have sinned against the Lord." Did you see a broken heart? Did you see a humbled soul? Did you see how even the falls of the saints are useful? For just as the fair bodies, even in sickness, show us many traces of their comeliness, so too the souls of the saints, even in their very transgressions, bear the marks of their own virtue. And yet that man was accused by the prophet in the midst of the palace, with many present; but this man was within, in the inner chambers, and had his conviction without witnesses; but not even so did he bear the rebuke. What then? Did he remain incurable? By no means, and this through the loving-kindness of God; but just as in the case of the moonstruck boy, when the disciples could not cast out the demon, Christ says, "Bring him to me here"; so also here, when the priest could not cast out sin, a disease more grievous than any demon, God himself thereafter takes the sick man in hand. And what does he do? He smites leprosy upon his forehead. ["For it came to pass, it says, when he threatened the priest, that leprosy rose up on his forehead."] And he went out thereafter. Just as those led away to death, having a cord upon their mouth, a symbol of the condemning vote, so too he himself, bearing the symbol of his dishonor upon his forehead, not with executioners dragging him, but with the leprosy itself, in place of executioners, pushing him toward his head.

He entered to receive the priesthood, but he also lost the kingdom; he entered to become more revered, and he became more accursed. For he was thereafter more dishonored than any private person, being unclean. So great an evil is it not to remain within the measures given to us by God, whether one does this in honor or in knowledge. Do you not see this sea, how it is unbearable in its violence, with how many waves it is crested? Yet nevertheless, when it rises to a great height and advances with much fury, when it comes to the boundary set for it by God, it dissolves its waves and returns again to itself. And yet what could be weaker than sand? But it is not that which hinders it, but the fear of the one who set it. And if this example does not bring you to your senses, let the things concerning Uzziah instruct you, the things just now spoken by us. But since we have seen the wrath of God and the deserved recompense, come, let us also show his love for mankind and his great forbearance. For one must not stir up only words about wrath, but also those about kindness, so that we may cast those who hear neither into despair nor into negligence. So also Paul does, and he mixes his exhortation with both of these, saying thus: "Behold then the kindness and the severity of God," so that by fear and by good hopes he might raise up the one who has fallen. Did you see the severity of God? Behold also the kindness. How then shall we see the kindness? If we learn what Uzziah was worthy of. What then was he worthy of? As soon as he set foot on the sacred vestibule with such shamelessness, of ten thousand thunderbolts and the last condemnation and punishment.

For if the first men who dared these things paid this penalty—those around Dathan and Korah and Abiram—how much more ought this man to have been punished, who was not brought to his senses even by their calamities. But God did not do so; rather, he first brought words full of great clemency through the priest. And what Christ enjoined on men to do when they sin against one another, this God did toward the man. For he says, "When your brother sins against you, go, reprove him between you and him alone." Thus God also reproved this king. And Christ says, "If he does not listen to you, let him be to you as the Gentile and the tax collector"; but God, by his love for mankind surpassing his own laws, did not cut him off even so, but though he disobeyed and was indignant, he did not cast him out, but again receives him and disciplines him in a manner that has correction rather than punishment. For he did not send down a thunderbolt from above, nor did he burn up that shameless head, but disciplined him only with leprosy. And the matters concerning Uzziah are such as these. But I, having added one thing more, will bring my discourse to an end. And what is this? What we sought long ago and from the beginning: for what reason, in external matters and in the prophecies, when it is customary to mark the times of the kings' lives in all cases, did this one omit this and mention the time of Uzziah's death, saying thus: "And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died." And yet it was possible to state the time of the one then reigning, as was the custom with the prophets; but he did not do this. For what reason, then, did he not do it?

There was an ancient law that the leper be driven out of the city, so that both the city might become better and he himself might not lie exposed to those who wished to insult him, as an occasion for mockery and jeering, but by remaining outside the city he might have his desolation as a veil for his misfortune. This is what this king also ought to have endured after his leprosy; but he did not endure it, since those in the city respected him because of his rule, but he remained hidden in his own house. This provoked God, this hindered the prophecy; and what happened in the case of Eli: "The word was precious, and there was no vision distinguishing." But here too, understand for me God's love for humanity. For he did not overturn the city, nor did he destroy its inhabitants; but just as friends do toward friends of equal honor, when they have some just complaint against them, remaining in silence, so also God did toward that nation, which was worthy of greater chastisement and punishment. "For I," he says, "cast him out of the sanctuary, but you did not even cast him out of the city; I bound him through the leprosy and handed him over as a private person, but you were not even so prevailed upon, but you could not bear to cast out of the city the one condemned by me." And yet what king would have borne this mildly, and would not have overturned the city from its foundations, seeing the one ordered to be resettled beyond the borders dwelling in the city? But God did not do this; for he was "God, and not man." But when he died, with his life he also brought to an end his anger against them and opened the doors of the prophecy and returned to them again.

But know also from the manner of the reconciliation the loving-kindness of God. For if one were to examine the strict requirement of justice, they ought not even then to have been reconciled. For what reason? Because it was not their own achievement that they cast out Uzziah. For they did not themselves take him and drive him away, but death, coming upon him by the law of nature, then cast him out of the city. But God does not scrutinize us so precisely in these matters; he seeks only one thing—a token of reconciliation with us. For all these things, then, let us give thanks to him, let us glorify his ineffable loving-kindness; of which may we also be found worthy, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen. On the passage: "And it came to pass in the year in which Uzziah the king died," and concerning repentance. Scarcely at last have we sailed through the sea that concerns Uzziah—and scarcely have we sailed through it, not because of the length of the journey, but because of your love of learning, you who sail with us. So too a pilot who has passengers eager for honor and longing to see lovely cities does not complete the voyage in a single day, even if the distance be but a day's journey, but is compelled to spend more time, anchoring the vessel at each harbor, allowing them to go ashore at each city, so as to gratify somewhat the desire of those who sail with him.

This we too have done, not sailing around islands, nor pointing out roadsteads and harbors and cities, but men who have set upright the virtue and fallen into negligence, the shamelessness of kings and the boldness of priests, the wrath of God and his love for mankind, both having come about for correction. But since at last we have reached the royal city, let us no longer delay, but having composed ourselves, as those about to enter a city, so let us go up to the upper metropolis, Jerusalem, our mother, the free woman, where the Seraphim are, where the Cherubim are, where thousands of archangels are, where myriads of angels are, where the royal throne is. Let no one, then, be present who is profane, nor polluted—for we are about to dare to undertake mystical narratives—let no one be unclean and unworthy of this hearing; but rather let every profane and polluted person be present, but having laid aside all uncleanness and wickedness outside, so let him enter. For that man too who had filthy garments, for this reason the father of the bridegroom drove him out of the bridal chamber and the sacred marriage-bed, not because he had filthy garments, but because he was entering with them as he was. For he did not say to him: Why do you not have a wedding garment? But: Why, not having a wedding garment, did you enter thus? At the crossroads, he says, you stood begging, and I was not ashamed of your poverty, I did not loathe your filthiness, but having freed you from all that cheapness, I brought you into the sacred bridal chamber and deemed you worthy of royal banquets and led you to the highest honor, you who were worthy of the last punishment.

But you did not become better even through benefits, but remained in your accustomed wickedness, having committed outrage against the marriage, having committed outrage against the bridal chamber. Depart therefore henceforth and give the punishment owed for such insensibility. Let each of us therefore also consider, lest he hear this voice and, having cast off all reasoning unworthy of spiritual teaching, thus partake of the sacred table. "And it came to pass," he says, "in the year in which King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a high and lifted-up throne." How he saw, I do not know; for that he saw, he said, but how he was silent. I accept what has been said, I do not busy myself with what has been kept silent; I understand what has been revealed, I do not pry into what has been covered—for this is why it has been covered. The narrative of the Scriptures is a golden robe, the warp gold, the woof gold. I do not weave in the webs of spiders, the weakness of my own reasonings. "Do not move the boundaries," he says, "which your fathers set." To move boundaries is not safe; and how shall we move those things which God has set for us? Do you wish to learn how he saw God? Become a prophet yourself. And how is this possible, he says, for one who has a wife and attends to the rearing of children? It is possible, if you are willing, beloved. For he too had a wife and was the father of two children, but none of these things hindered him. For marriage is no hindrance to the journey to heaven; since if it were a hindrance and the woman was going to plot against us, God would not, when he made her from the beginning, have called her a helper. I wished, then, to say what it is for God to sit; for God does not sit—

For the form belongs to bodies, but the divine is incorporeal. I wished indeed to say what precisely the throne of God is; for God is certainly not encompassed by a throne, for the divine is uncircumscribed; but I feared lest, by dwelling on the teaching about these things, I should drag out the debt. For I see all gaping toward the Seraphim, not only today but from the first day; therefore, just as a crowd of people, the word, cutting through with great force the multitude of all the thoughts, hastens to that explanation. "And the Seraphim stood round about him," it says. Behold the Seraphim, which you all long ago desired to see. Gaze therefore and fill your desire, but not with clamor, nor with hurried reasoning, as happens at royal processions and entrances; for there this very thing reasonably occurs. For the guards do not wait for the eyes of the spectators, but before all things are seen clearly, they compel them to pass by; but here it is not so; rather the word sets the contemplation before you, until you go through all things, as many as it is possible to go through. "And the Seraphim stood round about him." Before the dignity of their nature, he taught us the dignity that comes from nearness in place. For he did not first say what the Seraphim were, but he said where

They stand. For this is greater than that dignity. How? Because it does not show those powers to be as great by their being Seraphim as by their standing near the royal throne. For we too consider those of the bodyguard more distinguished whom we see driving near the royal chariot. So also among the incorporeal powers, those are more radiant, as many as are near the throne. For this reason the prophet also, leaving aside discussion of the dignity of their nature, first speaks to us about the precedence of place, knowing that this is the greater order and this the beauty of those natures; for this is the glory and the honor and all security—to appear around that throne. This can also be seen in the case of the angels; for when Christ wished to show them great, he did not say that they are angels and fall silent; but "their angels always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven." For just as there it is greater than the angelic dignity to behold the face of the Father, so it is greater than the dignity of the Seraphim to stand around the throne and to have it in their midst. But this great thing is possible for you too to receive, if you are willing. For he is in the midst not only of the Seraphim, but also of ourselves, if we are willing. "For where two or three are gathered," he says, "in my name, there am I in their midst"; and "The Lord is near to those who are crushed in heart, and he saves the humble in spirit." For this reason Paul also cries out:

Set your minds on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God." Do you see how he set us alongside the Seraphim, bringing us near the royal throne? Then he says: "Six wings to the one and six wings to the other." What do these six wings show us? The lofty, soaring, light, and swift nature of those beings. This is why Gabriel also comes down with wings, not because there are wings around that incorporeal power, but because he has come down from the highest places and, leaving the dwellings above, has arrived. And what does the number of the wings mean? Here we have no need of our own interpretation; for the text itself has resolved it, explaining to us their purpose. "For with two," it says, "they covered their faces," as if walling off their eyes with a kind of double barrier, because they could not bear the radiance that leaps forth from that glory. "And with two they covered their feet," for the same astonishment. For we too are accustomed, whenever we are seized by some awe, to wrap our body all around. And why do I speak of the body, when even the soul itself, having suffered this from the surpassing manifestation and drawing in its own activities, flees to the depths, wrapping itself all around with the body as with a kind of garment? But let no one, on hearing of astonishment and awe, suppose that some unpleasant distress comes upon them; for with this astonishment an unbearable pleasure is also mingled. "And with two they flew." And this is a sign of continually striving after things on high and never looking down. "And they cried out, one to the other:

Holy, holy, holy." And again their cry is a very great proof of wonder to us; for they do not simply sing praise, but with a mighty cry; and not merely with a cry, but they do this continually. For the bright things of bodies, even if they be bright beyond measure, are accustomed to astonish us only when we first perceive them with our eyes; but when we dwell longer on the contemplation of them, we destroy the wonder by familiarity, our eyes having by then grown accustomed to the bodies. For this reason, when we see a royal image newly set up and gleaming brightly with its colors, we are astonished; but after a day or two, no longer. And why do I speak of a royal image, when even in the case of the very rays of the sun we have experienced this same thing, than which no body could be brighter? Thus in the case of all bodies familiarity destroys the wonder; but in the case of the glory of God it is not so, but quite the opposite. For the more these powers dwell on the contemplation of that glory, the more they are astonished and intensify their wonder; and for this reason, from the time they came into being until now, seeing that glory, they have never ceased crying out with astonishment; but what we experience in a brief moment when a flash of lightning is borne against our eyes, that these continually endure, and unceasingly, with a certain pleasure, they hold the wonder. For not only have they cried out, but they do this also to one another, which is a sign of intensified astonishment.

So too with us: when thunder crashes or the earth shakes, we not only fear and leap up, but we also cry out to one another. This is what the Seraphim also did; and for this reason they cried to one another: Holy, holy, holy. Did you recognize this voice? Is it ours or the Seraphim's? It is both ours and the Seraphim's, through Christ who destroyed the dividing wall of the barrier and made peace between things in heaven and things on earth, through him who made both one. For formerly this hymn was sung only in the heavens; but when the Master deigned to set foot upon the earth, he also brought this melody down to us. For this reason this great high priest too, whenever he stands at this holy table offering the rational worship, presenting the bloodless sacrifice, does not simply call us to this acclamation, but first mentioning the Cherubim and reminding us of the Seraphim, he thus exhorts all to send up that most awe-inspiring voice, striving by the remembrance of those who sing in chorus to draw our mind up from the earth to the heavens, and all but crying out to each of us and saying: You sing with the Seraphim, stand with the Seraphim, with them spread the wings of your mind, with them fly around the royal throne. And what is wonderful, if you have stood with the Seraphim, when the very things that the Seraphim did not dare to touch, God has given to you with boldness?

For he says, one of the Seraphim was sent to me, and he had a burning coal, which he took with the tongs from the altar." That altar is a type and image of this altar; that fire, of this spiritual fire. But the Seraphim did not dare to touch it with the hand, but with the tongs; yet you take it with your hand. For if you look to the worthiness of what is set before you, these things are far greater than the touch of the Seraphim; but if you consider God's love for mankind, he is not ashamed to descend even to our lowliness upon what is set before us by grace. Considering these things, then, O man, and reckoning the greatness of the gift, rise up at some point and be freed from the earth and ascend to heaven. But the body drags you and forces you down? But behold, fasts come forward, making the wings of the soul light and making the burden of the flesh light, even if they take a body heavier than all lead. But let the teaching about fasting wait for now, and let the teaching about the mysteries be set in motion already, through which fasts also come. For just as the crown is the end of the wrestling contests in the Olympic games, so also the end of fasting is pure communion; so that if we do not accomplish this through these days, having cut ourselves down in vain and to no purpose, we shall depart from the arena of fasting uncrowned and without prizes. For this reason the fathers also extended the course of the fast, giving us a set time for repentance, so that having been purified and having wiped ourselves clean, we might thus draw near. For this reason he himself from here already cries out with a bright voice and solemnly testifies

I beg and beseech and implore you not to approach this sacred table with a stain, nor with an evil conscience; for this would not be an approach, nor a communion, even if we touch that holy body ten thousand times, but a condemnation and a punishment and an addition of penalties. Let no sinner, then, draw near—or rather, I do not say this: let no sinner, since I first bar myself from the divine table—but let no one who remains a sinner draw near. For this reason I forewarn you from now on, so that when the royal banquet comes and that sacred evening arrives, no one may have it to say: "I came in unprepared and am shut out," and that these things ought to have been foretold long ago. For if I had heard these things long ago, I would certainly have changed, I would certainly have purified myself and so approached. Therefore, so that no one may have this as a pretext, from now on I solemnly testify and exhort you to show great repentance. I know that we are all under penalty and that no one will boast of having a pure heart; but this is not the dreadful thing—that we do not have a pure heart—but that, not having a pure heart, we do not come to the one who is able to make it pure. For he is able, if he wills; and he wills it more than we ourselves do; but he waits to receive a small pretext from us, so that he may crown us with boldness. Who has become a greater sinner than the tax collector? But because he only said, "Be merciful to me, a sinner," he went down justified rather than the Pharisee. And yet how much power did that phrase have? But it was not the phrase that cleansed him, but the disposition with which he also spoke that phrase.

Rather, not even the disposition alone, but before this, the loving-kindness of God. For tell me, what toil, what labor, what sweat is it for the sinner to persuade himself that he is a sinner and to say this to God? Do you see how I was not speaking idly when I said that he wishes us to take hold of even a small pretext, and thereafter he himself contributes everything to our salvation? Let us repent, then; let us weep; let us lament. A man who has often lost a daughter spends the greater part of his life in lamentation and wailing; have we lost a soul, and do we not lament? Have we fallen from salvation, and are we not cut to the heart? And why do I speak of a soul and salvation? We have provoked a Master so gentle and mild, and do we not bury ourselves? For his care for us surpasses all the goodwill not only of a solicitous Master, but also of a child-loving father and an affectionate mother. "For shall a woman forget," he says, "her child, or fail to have compassion on the offspring of her womb? Even if a woman should forget, yet I will not forget, says the Lord." The declaration is trustworthy even before proof, for it is God's; nevertheless, come, let us also provide the proof through events. Rebecca once, commanding her child to act out the drama of the theft of the blessings and clothing him well all around and putting on him the mask of his brother, when she saw that even so he was not confident, wishing to remove all the child's fear, said, "Upon me be your curse, child." Truly a mother's word, and one burning with love for her child. But Christ not only said this, but also did it.

He did not merely promise it, but it also came to pass. And Paul cries out, saying: "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us." This one, then, we provoke. Tell me: how is this not more grievous than Gehenna itself, and than the unending worm and the unquenchable fire? When, therefore, you are about to approach the sacred table, consider that there also the King of all is present; for he is truly present, discerning the mind of each one, and who it is that comes with the holiness that is fitting, and who comes with an evil conscience, with unclean and filthy thoughts, with sordid deeds. And if he finds someone of that sort, for the time being he delivers him to the court of his conscience; then, if that one, having received it, is scourged by his thoughts and made better, he receives him again; but if he remains uncorrected, he commands that the senseless and unfeeling man be handed over to his own hands. "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." I know that these words bite, but what am I to do? If I do not apply bitter medicines, the wounds will not be removed; if I apply bitter ones, you cannot bear the pain. I am hemmed in on every side; nevertheless, I must now stay my hand; for what has been said is sufficient for the correction of those who pay heed. But so that these things may become useful not only to you but, through you, to others as well, come, let us recapitulate them again. We discoursed about the Seraphim; we showed how great a dignity it is to stand near the royal throne, and that it is possible for human beings also to possess this dignity.

We have spoken about the wings and the unapproachable glory of God, and about his love for mankind that is shown toward us; we have added the reason for the cry and the ceaseless wonder, and how in unceasing contemplation the doxology of the Seraphim is also unceasing; we have reminded you into what choir we have been brought and with whom we hymn the common Master; we have added words about repentance; and finally we have shown how great an evil it is to approach the mysteries with a wicked conscience, and how it is impossible for the one who has dared such things to escape. Let a woman learn these things from a man, and children from a father, and a servant from a master, and a neighbor from a neighbor, and a friend from a friend—or rather, let us speak of these things even to our enemies; for we are also accountable for their salvation. For if we are commanded to raise up their fallen beasts of burden and to save those that have wandered and to bring them back, how much more must we bring back their soul when it has wandered and raise it up when it has fallen. If we thus manage our own affairs and those of our neighbors, we shall be able to stand with boldness before the judgment seat of Christ, with whom be glory to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, now and always and unto the ages of ages. Amen.