Post reditum a priore exsilio

Of the same, upon his return from the first exile, a homily. 1. When Pharaoh seized Sarah from Abraham, the beautiful and comely woman, the wicked and barbarous Egyptian, having seen her beauty with unjust eyes and wishing to perform a deed of adultery, then indeed, then, at the beginning God did not punish, so that both the courage of the righteous man and the chastity of the woman and the licentiousness of the barbarian and the love of God for humanity might be shown: the courage of the righteous man, that he bore what happened gratefully; the chastity of the woman, that she fell into barbarian hands and preserved her modesty; the licentiousness of the barbarian, that he approached another's bed; the love of God for humanity, that after the despair of men, he then brought the crown to the righteous man. These things happened then in the case of Abraham, and they happened today in the case of the Church. This man is an Egyptian, as that one was an Egyptian; this one had spearmen, that one had shield-bearers; that one had Sarah, this one the Church; that one detained her for one night, this one entered for one day; he was not permitted even that one day, but so that the chastity of the bride might be shown, that he enters and the beauty of her chastity was not corrupted, although he prepared an adulterer and the documents were being completed and many of the household were signing. The contrivance was completed, and the end did not come to pass.

His wickedness was revealed, and God’s love for humanity. But that barbarian of old, recognizing his sin, confessed his transgression; for he says to Abraham: “Why have you done this? Why did you say that she is my sister? And I almost sinned.” But this man, after his transgression, persisted. Wretched and miserable one, you sinned; be still, do not add sin to sin. And that woman returned, possessing Egyptian wealth; but the Church returned, possessing wealth from right-mindedness, and appeared more prudent. Observe the madness of the barbarian. You cast out the shepherd; why did you scatter the flock? You removed the helmsman; why did you break the rudders? You cast out the vine-dresser; why did you uproot the vines? Why did you destroy the monasteries? You imitated an invasion of barbarians. 2. He did everything to show your courage; he did everything to learn that here is a flock shepherded by Christ. The shepherd is outside, and the flock held together, and the apostolic word was fulfilled: “Not only in my presence, but also in my absence, you work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” And they threatened such things, fearing your courage and the charm of your love, and the longing for me. “We dare nothing in the city,” he says, “give him to us outside.

Take me outside, so that you may learn the longing of the Church, learn the nobility of my children, the strength of the soldiers, the power of the armed men, the splendor of the diadems, the abundance of wealth, the magnitude of love, the endurance of patience, the bloom of freedom, the glory of victory, the laughter at your defeat. O strange and paradoxical things: the shepherd is outside, and the flock leaps; the general is far away, and the soldiers are armed. No longer did the Church have only the camp, but the city became a Church. The streets, the marketplaces, the air were sanctified; heretics were converted, the Jews became better; the priests were condemned, and the Jews praised God and ran to us. So also it happened in the time of Christ. Caiaphas crucified, and the thief confessed. O strange and paradoxical things: priests killed, and magi worshipped. Let these things not astonish the Church. If these things had not happened, our wealth would not have been revealed; it existed, but it would not have been revealed. For just as Job was righteous, but he would not have been revealed, if not for the wounds and the worms, so also your wealth, if not for the plots, would not have been revealed. And God, defending Job, says: Do you think I have dealt with you otherwise than that you might appear righteous? They plotted, they waged war, and they were defeated. How did they wage war? With clubs. How were they defeated? By prayers. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other to him also. You bring clubs into the Church and wage war; where there is peace for all, you begin war.

You did not respect even the place, wretched and miserable one, nor the dignity of the priesthood, nor the magnitude of the office. The baptistery has been filled with blood; where there is remission of sins, there is a shedding of blood. In what battle line do these things happen? A king enters and casts aside his shield and diadem; you entered and seized clubs. He leaves even the symbols of kingship outside; you brought the symbols of war in here. But you have harmed my bride in nothing; rather, she remains displaying her beauty. Therefore I rejoice, not because you have conquered. If I had been present, I would have shared the victory with you; but since I withdrew, your trophy appeared bare. Yet even this is my praise, and again I share the victory with you, because I raised you in such a way that, even in the father's absence, you display your own nobility. For just as noble athletes display their own strength even in the absence of the trainer, so also the nobility of your faith displayed its own beauty even in the absence of the teacher. What need is there of words? The stones cry out; the walls utter a voice. Go to the imperial courts, and you immediately hear: "The peoples of Constantinople." Go to the sea, to the desert, to the mountains, to the houses; your praise is inscribed. In what have you conquered? Not by wealth, but by faith. O people who love your teacher, O people who love your father, blessed is the city, not because of columns and a golden roof, but because of your virtue. So many were the plots, and your prayers have conquered; and rightly so.

For the prayers were fervent, and the streams of tears flowed abundantly. They had arrows, but you had tears; they had wrath, but you had gentleness. Do what you will; you pray. And those who opposed—where are they now? Did we brandish weapons? Did we stretch bows? Did we let fly arrows? We prayed, and they fled; for they were scattered like a spider's web, while you stood firm as a rock. Blessed am I because of you. I knew even before this what wealth I possess, but I marveled at it now as well. I was far away, and a city was being relocated. Because of one man, the sea became a city. Women, men, children of tender age, women carrying infants—they dared the sea, they scorned the waves. No slave feared a master, no woman remembered her natural weakness. The marketplace became a church, everything everywhere for our sake. For whom did you not instruct? You gained a queen joining in the chorus; for I will not conceal her zeal. I say this not flattering a queen, but serving piety; for I will not conceal her zeal. For she took up not arms, but the achievements of virtue. I was being led away then—you know how. For I must speak even of painful things, so that you may learn the good; but learn how I was led away, and how I returned. Those who sow in tears will reap in joy. As they went, they went and wept, casting their seeds; but when they come, they will come in joy, lifting their sheaves. These words became reality. With gratitude you received the one whom you sent forth in grief. And not after a long time; after a single day, everything was resolved. For the delay occurred for your sake, since God had resolved it from the beginning. 4. I say

Yours is the secret. I crossed the sea alone, bearing the Church; for love is not confined. The ship was not crowded; for you are not crowded in us. I departed caring for your affairs, separated in body but united in intention; I departed calling upon God and entrusting your love to Him; I departed, I sat alone caring for your affairs, deliberating about my exile alone. Suddenly, when the untimely hour came, this most God-beloved woman sent letters on the first day, speaking these words (for I must also recount her words): "Let your holiness not think that I knew what had happened. I am innocent of your blood. Wicked and corrupt men devised this scheme; but God, to whom I offer sacrifice, is witness to my tears." What a libation she poured forth; for her tears became a libation. "To whom I offer sacrifice." The priestess, self-appointed, sacrificing to God and pouring forth tears and confession and repentance, not on behalf of a priest, but on behalf of the Church, on behalf of a scattered people. She remembered, she remembered also the children and the baptism. "I remember that through your hands my children were baptized." These things the queen said; but the priests, all consumed by envy, did not know the place where I was staying. And what is most marvelous to say, she, trembling as for a child, went about everywhere, not in person, but by her own escort of soldiers. For she did not find the place where I was dwelling. She sent everywhere, anxious lest I be murdered, lest I be killed, and we lose the prey. This alone, and I present what is from myself.

I seek only, and they do not obtain. The enemies went about everywhere spreading nets, to catch and bring him back into their hands. Then she also entreated and clasped the royal knees, making the man a partner in the hunt; just as Abraham did with Sarah, so she with her husband. "We have lost," she says, "the priest, but let us bring him back. There is no hope for us of the kingdom, unless we bring him back." It is impossible for me to share with any of those who did these things; shedding tears, beseeching God, displaying every device. You also know with how much goodwill she received us, how she embraced us as her own limbs, how she said she was zealous along with you. For these words did not escape your gratitude, that you welcomed the mother of the Churches, the nurse of the monks, and the protector of the saints, the staff of the poor. Her praise becomes glory to God, a crown for the Churches. Shall I speak of her warm longing? Shall I speak of her ambition concerning me? Yesterday, in the deep evening, she sent these words: "Tell him: my prayer is fulfilled; I have demanded the achievement; I have been crowned more than with a diadem; I have received the priest, I have restored the head to the body, the helmsman to the ship, the shepherd to the flock, the bridegroom to the bridal chamber. The adulterers are put to shame. Whether I live or die, I no longer care. See the achievements of the trial." What shall I do to give you a worthy return for your love? A worthy one I cannot, but what I have I give. I am ready to pour out my blood for your salvation.

No one has such children, no one such a flock, no one such a thriving field. I have no need of farming; I sleep, and the ears of grain flourish. I have no need of labor; I rest, and the sheep prevail over the wolves. What shall I call you? Sheep or shepherds, or helmsmen, or soldiers and generals? I make all these words true of you. When I see your good order, I call you sheep; when I see your forethought, I address you as shepherds; when I see your wisdom, I name you helmsmen; when I see your courage and vigor, I call you all soldiers and generals. O the toil, O the forethought of the people! You have driven away the wolves, and you will not be careless. The sailors who were with you have become against you, those who prepared war against the ship. You cry out "the lot" outside, and another lot for the Church. What need of shouting? They departed, and were driven away, though no one pursued them, they were exiled. No man accuses them, but their own conscience. If an enemy had reproached me, I would have endured it. Those who were with us have become against us; those who with us were steering the ship wished to sink the ship. I have marveled at your understanding. I say these things, not to incite you to faction. For faction is their doing, but yours is zeal. For you did not deem it right that they be put to death, but that this be prevented, both for your sake and for the Church's sake, that it might not again become submerged. For your courage did not allow the storm to arise, but their intention produced the surge. I, however, judge not by the outcome, but by their intention.

A man standing at the altar, entrusted with the care of such a great people, obliged to calm the troubles, you have increased the storm, you have driven the sword against yourself, having destroyed your own children in intention, if not in experience. But God prevented it. So I marvel at you and praise you, that after the war and the establishment of peace, you consider how peace might become complete. For the helmsman must be in harmony with the sailors; for if they are divided, the ship is sunk. You have accomplished peace after the grace of God; I will make you partners in security. Without you I will do nothing, and also without the most God-loving Augusta. For she too cares and worries and does very many things, so that what has been planted may remain firm, so that the Church may remain unshaken. I have therefore praised both your wisdom and the emperors' providence. For they are not so concerned about war as about the Church, not so much about the city as about the Church.

Let us entreat God, let us beseech that one, let us persist in prayers; and let us not, because the terrors have been dissolved, become more careless. For this reason we have prayed until today that the terrors be dissolved. Let us give thanks to God, just as we were brave then, so also today let us be zealous. For all these things let us give thanks to God, to whom belong the glory and the power together with the Son and with the good and life-giving Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.