Non esse ad gratiam concionandum

That it is dangerous both for speakers and hearers to speak for favor, and that it is useful and the greatest justice to accuse one's own sins. 1. I think we touched you sufficiently the day before yesterday, and gave a deeper wound; therefore it is necessary to heal today, and to apply gentler remedies. For this is the best method of treatment, not only to cut but also to bind up the wounds; this is a wonderful rule of teaching, not only to rebuke but also to encourage and console. Thus Paul commanded: Reprove, rebuke, encourage. If one encourages throughout, he makes the hearers more careless; if he only rebukes, he makes them harsher; for not being able to bear the burden of constant reproofs, they immediately jump away. Therefore the method of teaching must be varied. Since then on the previous occasion the word bit more sharply into each one's mind, we need gentler teaching today, and it is necessary to pour the gentleness of the word like oil upon the pains caused by the reproofs, first reminding you of the reproofs themselves. The day before yesterday we read to you Paul's law concerning the communion of the mysteries, laid down for all the initiated. The law was this; for nothing prevents reading it again now: Let each one test himself, and thus eat of the bread and drink of the cup. The initiated know what is said, and what the bread is and what the cup is. For he who eats and drinks unworthily of the Lord, he says, will be liable for the body and blood of the Lord.

We read this law to you, and we also explained the meaning of the text. We said what it means, "He will be liable for the body and blood of the Lord," that he will suffer the same penalty, the same punishment as those who crucified Christ. For just as those murderers, it says, became liable for the blood, so also do those who partake of the mysteries unworthily; for this is what "He will be liable for the body and blood of the Lord" means. The statement seemed to have great force, and the threat seemed unbearable; we also added a reasoning from an example that has much consistency. For just as, I said, whether someone tears the royal purple or defiles it with mud, he insults the king who wears it in a similar way; so also here, both those who destroyed the Lord's body and those who receive it with an unclean mind similarly outrage the royal garment. The Jews tore it with the cross, but he who receives it with an unclean soul defiles it; so that even if the acts of lawlessness are different, the insults are equal. This touched many, this disturbed many; it stung the conscience of the hearers, or rather not only of the hearers, but also of me, the speaker, before you; for the teaching is common, the wounds are common; therefore I also apply common remedies. This was a work of God's love for humanity, so that both the speaker and the hearers are subject to the same laws, share the same nature, and each is equally liable when transgressing. Why?

So that he may administer rebuke with moderation, that he may become forgiving toward those who sin, that, mindful of his own weakness, he may not make his reproach unbearable. For this reason God did not bring angels down from the heavens to set teachers over the nature of human beings, so that, because of the superiority of their nature and the ignorance of human weakness, they might not make their rebukes against us too severe; but he gave mortal human beings as teachers and priests, human beings clothed in weakness, so that this very fact—that both the speaker and the hearers are subject to the same things—might become a bridle for the speaker's tongue, not allowing him to make accusations beyond measure. And that this is true, Paul himself, who laid down that law, also taught us this reason, speaking thus: "For every priest taken from among human beings is appointed over human beings, able to be moderate toward those who are ignorant and go astray." Whence and why? Because he himself is also clothed in weakness. Do you see that weakness becomes the basis of compassion, and the kinship of nature never allows the one who rebukes to fall into excess, even if he is very contentious? Why have I said these things? So that you may not say, "You, being pure of sins, free from the pain of rebuke, with great authority inflict a deeper cut upon us." For I am the first to feel the pain, since I myself am also subject to sins. For we are all under penance; and, "No one will boast of having a pure heart.

so that I was not philosophizing about the misfortunes of others, nor from any inhumanity, but from great solicitude I made those reproaches. For in the case of those who heal bodies, the one who applies the blow feels no sensation of the blow, while the one being cut is the only one torn by the pains; but in the case of those who heal souls, it is not so, unless I am mistaken in judging the affairs of others from myself, but the speaker himself is the first to be pained whenever he rebukes others. For we are not so much pained when reproached by others as we are when reproaching others for sins of which we ourselves are guilty. For the conscience of the speaker immediately seizes him, and the dignity of the teaching, when it falls into the same sins as the disciples and requires the same reproaches, makes the pain more bitter for the speaker. 2. And I do not now simply lament this, but because many, unable to bear the weight of what was said, after the withdrawal came forward and were vexed and indignant, saying, "You are leading us away from the holy table and driving us from communion." For this reason I was compelled to say these things, so that you may learn that I do not lead away, but rather gather; I do not drive away or exclude, but rather draw you in through reproaches. For the fear of the mentioned punishment, like fire into wax, falling into the conscience of those who sin, dissolves and melts our transgressions, sitting there continually, and rendering the mind pure and gleaming, instills in us greater confidence.

from the frankness and eagerness would be greater for continually partaking of the secret and awe-inspiring mysteries. And just as one who gives bitter drugs to those with poor digestion, and purges the bad humors, stimulates the depressed appetite, and prepares them to partake of their usual food with greater eagerness than customary; so too one who speaks bitter words, and purges the evil thoughts of the mind, and removes the heavy burden of sins, gives the conscience room to breathe, and prepares it to taste of the Lord's body with great pleasure. Therefore one ought not to be vexed at what has been said, but to accept and praise it. But if some are more weakly disposed, and cannot bear this defense of ours, I would say this to them: that I am not expounding my own laws to you, but I am reading letters that have come down from heaven; and it is necessary for one entrusted with this ministry either to say everything with frankness, seeking what is beneficial, and not what is pleasant to the hearers in every case; or, fearing the enmity of the hearers, to sacrifice both his own salvation and theirs through this untimely favor. For that it is exceedingly dangerous both for the speaker and for the hearers

that some of the divine laws are hidden, and that teachers are held liable for murders when they do not expound all of God's ordinances without reservation, I will again present Paul to you as a witness on these matters. For this reason I constantly take refuge in that holy soul concerning all things, because the words of Paul are useful and divine laws. For it is not Paul who speaks, but Christ who moves that man's soul; for through him all things that he said are uttered. What then does Paul say? Having summoned those dwelling in Ephesus and delivered his final address to them, since he was about to depart from them, teaching those set over them that just as those who shed the blood of their disciples, so those who do not tell them what is beneficial are liable to punishment and retribution, he speaks somewhat as follows: "I am clean from the blood of all." Why? For I did not shrink from announcing to you the whole counsel of God; as if he had shrunk from announcing it, he would not have been clean from blood, but would have been judged a murderer, and rightly so. For the murderer destroys only the body, but one who speaks to please and makes his hearers more careless destroys the soul; and the former consigns to present death, while the latter destroys the soul and sends it on to immortal punishments and retributions. Does Paul alone say this? Not at all, but even before Paul, God through the prophet hints at the same thing, saying thus: "I have set you as a watchman for the house of Israel." What is "watchman"?

A scout is called one who, taking a high and hilly place while the armies are seated below, watches from there for the approaching enemies, and signals the attack to those seated below, and rouses them for the battle array, so that the enemies do not fall upon them off guard and dispatch them with great ease. Since, therefore, we who walk lowly do not see many of the approaching dangers, the grace of God has arranged that, as if standing on a high place of prophecy, the holy prophets foretell from afar the wrath of God about to come upon us, so that by repentance we may recover ourselves, and, raising our fallen soul, we may ward off the divinely sent blow from afar. For this reason he says: "I have given you as a scout to the house of Israel," so that you may foretell the impending calamity, just as that scout does the enemies. And he imposes no small punishment on the one who does not foretell the wrath of God. What is this? "The souls of those who perish," he says, "I will demand from your hand." Who, then, is so cruel and inhuman and unsympathetic as to accuse the one who speaks and continually discourses about the wrath of God, when he is about to undergo such a penalty if he should be silent? That, therefore, it is not beneficial for us who speak such things to be silent, both the prophet and the apostle have sufficiently taught us; and that it is not beneficial for you who hear, is clear from this. For if I, by being silent, were concealing the sins through silence, then each one would rightly be displeased and indignant, but I am not silent.

But if, even when we are silent now, the transgressions must necessarily appear there, what benefit could come from silence? No benefit, but the greatest harm. For if I speak now, I lead to repentance and compunction of mind; but if I am silent, now we will not recall our transgressions, nor will we repent; but there we will see them bare and exposed before our eyes, and we will lament in vain and to no purpose. 3. Since it is necessary, then, either there or here to be stricken with compunction for our sins, it is better here, and not there. How is this clear? From the prophetic sayings, from the evangelical. For the prophet says, "In Hades, who will make confession to you?"—not that we do not confess, but that we do this in vain. And Christ also taught this very thing through a parable. For there was a certain Lazarus, he says, a poor man, covered with sores from all sides, having an incurable disease; and another, a rich man, who did not share even crumbs with the poor man. And why need I go through the whole parable? You know the entire story—the cruelty of the rich man, how he did not share his table with the poor man, the poverty of that one and the hunger with which he continually wrestled. But these things are here; when each had died, he sees that poor man in the bosom of Abraham. And what does he say? "Father Abraham, send him, so that he may drip with the tip of his finger on my tongue, that I may have rest from the pain." Do you see the reciprocity? He did not share crumbs with him; he does not receive a drop of water. For "with the measure," it says, "with which you measure, it will be measured to you." What then does Abraham say? "Child, you have received your goods, and Lazarus his evils.

heart, and now this man is comforted here, while you are pained. But the point is this: they are stung by their sins and change and become better because of Gehenna, but they gain nothing for the alleviation of the flame. For he says, "Father, send him to my house, so that he may testify to my relatives, and they may not come to this place." Having himself failed to obtain the benefit, he now procures salvation for others. Do you see how harsh he was before this, how philanthropic he became after these things? When Lazarus was lying before his eyes, he passed him by while alive, but now he cares even for absent relatives; and then, when he was in abundance, he was not bent by the pitiable sight of the beggar, but now, while in unavoidable pains and constraints, he takes thought for his own kin and asks that the one who will report these things be sent to them. Do you see how philanthropic and gentle and sympathetic he has become? What then? Did he derive any benefit from the repentance? Did any gain come to him from the compunction? Not at all; for the repentance was untimely. The theater was dissolved, the contests departed, it was no longer the time for the struggles. Therefore I exhort and entreat and implore: it is necessary to lament and mourn here over the sins. Let the words pain us here, and let the things not frighten us there; let the discourse bite us here, and let the venomous worm not bite us there; let the reproof burn us here, and let the Gehenna of fire not burn us there. For those who mourn here, it follows that they will be comforted there.

those who here live luxuriously and laugh and are insensible in their disposition toward sins must of necessity there lament and bewail and gnash their teeth. This is not my word, but that of the one who then judges us: "Blessed," he says, "are those who mourn, for they will be comforted; woe to you who laugh, for you will weep." How much better, then, is it to exchange a temporary compunction and lamentation for immortal goods and pleasure that has no end, than to have laughed through this short and temporary life here and then depart to be punished immortally there? But are you ashamed and do you blush to confess your sins? Even if it were necessary to speak and parade these things before men, you ought not to be ashamed even so; for it is sinning that is shameful, not confessing what has been sinned. But as it is, there is no need to confess in the presence of witnesses. Let the examination of what has been done amiss take place before the reasonings of the conscience; let the court be without witness; let God alone see you confessing, God who does not reproach sins but dissolves sins through confession. But even so, do you hesitate and shrink back? I know too that the conscience cannot bear the memory of one's own transgressions. For if we only come to a recollection of what we have done amiss, like some untamed and hard-to-bridle colt, the mind prances. But restrain it, bridle it, soothe it with your hand, make it tame, persuade it that if it does not confess now, it will confess there, where the punishment is greater, where the public exposure is greater. Here the court is without witness, and you, the one who has sinned, judge yourself.

There, in the midst of the theater of the whole world, everything will be brought forward, unless we anticipate and wipe them away here. Are you ashamed to confess sins? Be ashamed to commit sins. But when we commit them, we dare boldly and shamelessly; but when it is necessary to confess, then we are ashamed and hesitate, when we ought to do this with eagerness. For it is not a shame to accuse oneself of sins, but justice and virtue; if it were not justice and virtue, God would not have set a reward for it. For that confession has rewards, hear what he says: "You first declare your lawless deeds, that you may be justified." Who is ashamed of an act from which one becomes righteous? Who is ashamed to confess sins in order to dissolve sins? For does he command confession in order to punish? Not to punish, but to forgive. 4. For in external courts, after confession comes punishment. Therefore the psalm, foreseeing this very thing, lest anyone, fearing punishment after confession, should deny the sins, says: "Confess to the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy is everlasting." For does he not know your sins, even if you do not confess? What then do you gain from not confessing? For can you escape notice? Even if you do not speak, he has seen; but if you speak, he forgets. Behold, I am God, wiping away your lawless deeds, and I will not remember. Do you see? "I will not remember," he says; for this is of philanthropy; but you remember, that you may take a basis for self-discipline. Hearing this, Paul, of sins which God did not remember, himself continually remembered, speaking thus:

I am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church; and, Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the first. He did not say, I was, but, I am. The forgiveness of sins was accomplished by God, and the memory of the forgiven sins was not obliterated in Paul; what the Master erased, he himself paraded. For you heard the prophet saying, And I will not remember; but you remember. God calls him a chosen vessel, and he calls himself first of sinners. If he did not forget the forgiven sins, consider how he remembered the benefactions of God. And why do I say that the memory of sins does not bring shame? The memory of sins does not make us as illustrious as the memory of good deeds; rather, the memory of good deeds not only does not make us illustrious, but also fills us with shame and condemnation; while the memory of sins fills us with confidence and great righteousness. Who says this? The Pharisee and the publican. For the one who confessed his sins went down justified; the one who boasted of his good deeds went down, having become inferior to the publican. Do you see how much harm comes from remembering good deeds, how much benefit from not forgetting sins? And this is quite reasonable. For the one who remembers his good deeds is lifted up into arrogance, looks down on other men, which is what the Pharisee suffered; for he would not have come to such great pride, he would not have said, I am not like other men, if he had not remembered his fasting and his tithe.

The memory of sins restrains the mind, persuades it to be humble, and through humility draws down the goodwill of God. Listen, then, how Christ also commands us to consign our good deeds to oblivion. When you have done all these things, say, "We are useless servants." You say that you are a useless servant; I do not make you useless. If you confess your own worthlessness, I make you bright and crown you. Do you see through how many arguments it has been demonstrated to us that the memory of sins brings profit, and the memory of good deeds brings harm, and conversely again, that punishment comes from the forgetfulness of sins, and benefit from the forgetfulness of good deeds? Do you wish to learn from another source that remembering sins is a very great achievement? Listen to Job. For just as he boasted about other things, so also he boasted about the confession of sins, speaking thus: "But if I sinned willingly, I was ashamed before the multitude of my people, so as not to reveal the

my sins. What he says is this: never has the assembly of fellow servants brought me to shame. For what benefit is there from the ignorance of men, when the judge knows everything? And what harm from their knowing the transgressions, when he wishes to acquit me of the charge? Even if all judge, but the judge acquits, I care nothing for their verdict; even if all praise and admire, but he condemns me, again I have no benefit from their judgment. For in all things we must look to him, and do the same with our sins as we do with the expenditure of money. Immediately upon rising from bed, before going to the marketplace or handling any private or public affairs, we call the servant and demand an account of what has been spent, so that we may know what has been wasted, what has been spent properly, and how much remains; and if we see that what remains is little, we devise means of income in every way, lest we perish unnoticed from hunger. Let us do this, then, with our own actions. Let us call our own conscience and make it give an account of words, deeds, thoughts; let us examine what has been spent properly, what to our own harm; what word was spent badly, in abuse, foul language, insults; what thought moved the eye to licentiousness; what reasoning was carried out to our harm in deed, either by hands, or by tongue, or by the eyes themselves.

Let us strive to cease from untimely expenditure, and instead of what has once been badly spent, lay up another source of income; instead of words vainly uttered, prayers; instead of licentious glances, alms and fasts. For if we are to spend untimely and lay up nothing, nor store up any good for ourselves, we shall, when reduced to extreme poverty, be found sending ourselves to the eternal punishment of fire. We are accustomed to give an account of our money in the morning, but of our actions after dinner and in the evening itself, while lying on our bed, with no one disturbing, no one troubling us; let us then demand from ourselves an accounting of all our deeds and words of the day. And if we see something amiss, let us punish our conscience, rebuke our mind, and so sharply pierce our reason that, remembering the evening blow, we no longer dare, when we rise up, to bring ourselves to the same abyss of sin. 5. That this time is more suitable for such an accounting, hear the prophet saying: "What you say in your hearts, be pierced in your beds." Many things by day we do not do as we wish: friends provoke us, servants become savage, a wife grieves us, a child pains us, a crowd of worldly and public affairs surrounds us; and we cannot then perceive how we are tripped up.

Having been freed from all these things, and coming to ourselves in the evening, and enjoying great quiet, let us convene the court on our bed, so that we may have God propitious through such a judgment. But if we sin each day, and strike our own soul, yet never perceive it, just as those who receive continuous wounds, then neglect them, draw upon themselves fevers and unbearable death, so too do we, from this continuous insensibility, draw upon ourselves an inexorable punishment. I know that what has been said is burdensome, but it contains much profit. We have a gentle Master; He only wishes to seize a pretext, and immediately displays all His philanthropy. For if, while sinning and remaining unpunished, we did not become worse, He would have remitted the punishment for us; but He clearly knows this, that not being punished for our sins harms us no less than the sins themselves. Therefore He imposes the punishment, not demanding retribution for past deeds, but

correcting the one who is about to sin. And so that you may learn that this is true, listen to what he says to Moses: "Let me go, and in my anger I will destroy them." "Let me go," he said, not because Moses was restraining him—for he said nothing to him, but stood by in silence—but because he wanted to give him an excuse for his intercession on their behalf. For since those men had sinned in a way worthy of punishment, and of inexorable punishment, but he did not wish to punish them, but to show clemency, and this would have made them more careless, he arranged both so that punishment would not be inflicted, nor would they become more careless from impunity, learning that it was not due to their own merit, but to Moses' advocacy that they escaped the wrath of the Master. This we also often do: when servants have committed offenses worthy of punishment, and we neither wish to punish them nor to relieve them of the fear of punishment, we order friends to snatch them from our hands, so that the fear remains intense in them, and they escape our blows. This also God did; and that it is true is clear from the very words: "Let me go," he says, "and in my anger." For indeed, when we wish to punish and no one restrains us, then we become angry; but he says, "Let me go and I will become angry," so that you may learn that anger is not a passion in God, but the punishment inflicted on us is called by this name. Therefore, when you hear Moses saying, "If you forgive them their sin, forgive," be amazed at the Master before the servant, that he himself provided the occasions for this clemency.

He did this not only here, but also to Jeremiah and to Ezekiel he says the same: "Run about and see in the streets of Jerusalem if there is anyone doing judgment and righteousness; I will be gracious to them." Do you see the love for humanity? The virtue of one man benefits many, even the wicked; but by the wickedness of the many, even if there is one who is upright among a great multitude, he is not carried away; rather, one man living rightly will be able to snatch an entire people from the wrath of God, but an entire city that is corrupt will not be able to draw the one who lives well into its own punishment and ruin and destroy him. This is clear from Noah: when all were perishing, he alone was saved; and it is evident from Moses: he alone was able to intercede for such a great people. I have another even greater example of God's love for humanity to mention. For when he does not find living men who have freedom of speech and are able to intercede for the sinners, he has recourse to the dead, and says that he forgives the sins because of them, just as he says to Hezekiah: "I will defend this city for my sake and for David my servant, who has already died." Knowing these things, that God moves and contrives everything so as to free us from punishment and retribution, let us give him many opportunities, confessing, repenting, weeping, praying, forgiving the anger of our neighbors, relieving the poverty of those near us, being sober in our prayers, showing humility, and remembering our sins continually.

For it is not enough to say, "I am a sinner," but one must also recall the specific forms of one's transgressions. For just as fire falling upon thorns easily destroys them, so too does a thought that continually turns over one's misdeeds within itself easily destroy and submerge them. And may God, who passes over lawlessness, who removes injustices, deliver us from our sins and deem us worthy of the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and love for humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom glory is to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.