In filium prodigum

On the Prodigal Son, and on Repentance, and on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, and on the Thief. Recently, the great and godly epiphany of the Savior set before us a rich table, and mixing a brimming bowl of inspired philosophy, made the whole people—nay, rather, the whole world, so to speak—drunk. "For they shall be drunk," says the prophet, "from the richness of your house, and you shall water them with the torrent of your delight." But when divine Scripture speaks of drunkenness, it does not mean wine that intoxicates, but wisdom that makes wise. And the fruit of repentance followed upon the presence of the Savior. For it is fitting that the fruits of repentance should follow the shining forth of the Savior. Therefore yesterday our discourse was exercised on this subject. Though falling far short of the worth of the matters at hand, yet not departing from its own capacity, a discourse on repentance was set in motion—which is a medicine of salvation; and a physician was proclaimed, of souls and of bodies, healing not with a drug but curing with a nod of benevolence. But since the Gospel reading ran past our mind, distracted here and there, it is necessary today, after briefly going through this subject for you, to bring the discourse to a close.

The Savior, presenting piety through word and through parables and riddles and various modes of teaching, introducing what is beneficial to the faithful, spoke a certain parable having a strong image of repentance. A certain man, he says, had two sons, of whom the younger approached and asked his father to divide the property between them. He obtained what he asked and, receiving the paternal property, managed it badly. You know the narrative. But it is worthwhile to introduce the interpretation here. For even if it is possible for the many to understand it in different ways, the truth clarifies itself to the well-disposed. What then does the fountain of wisdom set forth here? The first order of the righteous and the second order of those justified through repentance: of those who honor justice from the beginning, and of those who are led back to justice through repentance. A certain man had two sons, whom, even if choice separated the impious from the pious, yet the truth knows all as one creation of the creator, and all are sons of God, even if by evil thought they are cut off from their own worth. Hence God, if we through evil desires depart from piety, does not deny the relationship but even to those who are restive sends forth a paternal voice: Return to me, sons who have fallen away, and I will return to you. Do you see that even when the mind of the one sinning is in revolt, God does not deem it unworthy to call the fallen away sons? For he knows the creation as his own and does not deny his own benefaction.

Why then did the younger son make bad use of what was given to him? The matter at hand is an enigma. And hear how. From the beginning, righteousness existed and was manifest and shone forth. But sin was something younger, introduced into the world later and recent. For this reason the first son is not placed in the position of the one who squandered badly. For the ancient creation had its beauty complete, when the world was new, shining with new grace, new beauty. For Moses bears witness to the beauty of creation, saying: "And everything was good, not simply good, but very good." So righteousness was first, and the good was most ancient. But sin was younger. For it came in upon righteousness and disturbed its beauty. He therefore divided the possessions equally between them. Why equally? For the righteous have nothing more in the present life, since the sun rises on both righteous and unjust, and it rains on both good and evil. But the one depicted in the region of the righteous did not wish to divide the paternal inheritance, but remained under the authority of the father. For the righteous always follows God and is not drawn away into his own authority. Do you wish to learn that the righteous man wants to receive nothing from God, but only follows the management and providence of his own father? David cries out from the order of the righteous: "What do I possess in heaven? And what have I desired from you on earth?" You see that the order of the righteous does not wish to seize for itself the authority over the creatures, but wants the matters of management to lie under the providence of the father.

The younger son, having received his father's property, journeyed to a far country—not separated by distance in space, but by manner of life. For the one who sins is far from God, brothers, not in place but in way of life, according to the saying: "Behold, those who distance themselves from you will perish." Having received his father's property, he squandered it, living dissolutely in it. The creation he received he defiled with sin. He took the sun for enjoyment and worshipped the gift as a god; he took springs for pleasure and considered the gift a god. The giver was ignored, and the gifts were honored, as Paul cries out indignantly: "And they worshipped the creation rather than the creator." The same judgment, the same paternal property. And one used it well, the other badly. This is an order, and that is both good and contrary. The pious man beholds the beauty of the sky and from the beauty infers the creator: "I will see," he says, "the heavens, works of your fingers." He saw the beauty and gave thanks to the one who wrought such beauty; he saw the cosmos and praised the one who adorned it. For the pious man praises creation, but worships the creator. When the pious flee from worshipping visible things, they do not insult creation, but assign honor to the master. A believer does not hate the sun because he does not worship light along with the impious, but he sets a measure on honor. And he both honors and loves visible things as gifts of God. Do you wish to see how the pious man beholds and admires beauty, and reserves worship for the creator? One of the wise—I mean the wise in piety—says:

The sun shining in the highest heavens of the Lord, a wondrous vessel, a mighty work, breathing forth fiery rays, illuminating the sky. And what immediately? Great is the Lord who made it. And its beauty proclaimed and did not conceal the craftsman. But the impious man saw the heavens badly, which relate the glory of God, not by words but by the beauty of creation. For the heaven never uttered a voice, but it sends forth a testimony more effective than a voice through its comeliness. And does the heaven, while silent, relate the glory of God? Certainly. Your letters speak while silent. And do the elements of God not speak while silent? For you have received the taste of piety; from the taste receive the whole of truth. Examine the part of the impious man, how from the same things he stumbles, from which the righteous man is justified. He sees the moon and worships; he sees the stars and reveres; he sees the sea and deifies. Those in the Babylonian furnace, who entered it, with the saving and good confession hymned God through the works, saying: "Bless all the works of the Lord, the Lord." It is enough, then, having uttered this utterance, to stop the hymn. For God rests not on the length of hymns, but on the intention of those hymning. Therefore, by saying "all the works," everything was encompassed and there was no need of any other addition. But since they were not proclaiming to themselves, but were hymning God and through the hymn were teaching the Chaldeans standing by, necessarily the hymn traverses through all of creation, so that the erring Chaldeans might learn what is being hymned and what are the things hymning.

But since our discourse has cast us into a deep contemplation, let us for now leave that aside and return to the matter at hand. The younger son journeyed to a far country and squandered his property badly, and began to be in need. For the rich have become poor and have hungered; but those who seek the Lord will not be deprived of any good. For the Lord will not withhold good things from those who walk in innocence. He began to be in need. And he attached himself to one of the rulers of that country, and that ruler sent him to tend swine. See how great was the height of his ancient nobility; how great the humiliation of one cut off from piety. He was given to tend swine, that is, to be immersed in pleasures and sins. For what mud is to swine, that sin is to those who are immersed in it. For this reason the Savior, alluding to those who live in impurity and are immersed in sins like mud, said: Do not give the holy things to the dogs, nor cast your pearls before the swine. He tended swine.

He desired to be filled with the carob pods which the swine ate, and no one gave him any. Pay close attention here. The one who cuts himself off from piety does not even have the enjoyment of pleasures, but is subjected to want and condemned to poverty, so that he does not even have an abundance of the evils he chose. For the foolish man, it is said, will end in want. So he compares the pleasures in the world to carob pods. For the carob pod has much roughness, but little sweetness. And the bright and desirable things in the world have many labors, but little enjoyment. This whole life of ours is yoked more to toil than to joy. For the days of our years among them are seventy years, and the greater part of them is toil and pain. But then hunger educated him, and distress turned him back. Your apostasy will teach you, and your wickedness will convict you. But when he came to himself. "To himself" is good. For when we sin, we are outside ourselves, we are out of our minds, we are carried away from our own reasoning. But when we act righteously, we return to ourselves. "When he came to himself," he said. Here pay close attention to how the previously spoken word is true, that physicians prescribe foreign and alien remedies, but the remedies of our life we have from ourselves. "When he came to himself." He did not use a foreign remedy, but his own, the natural advantages, these he used for salvation and says: How many hired servants of my father have an abundance of bread, while I perish from hunger? Now divine scripture calls those "sons" who are wholly devoted to righteousness and piety.

to those who are hired workers, not having a complete disposition toward him, nor, in accordance with the discipline of the life, thinking entirely the things of God, but understanding the good and loving the word, yet not having dedicated their whole mind to it. And to those who have a complete longing, and who wholly devote themselves to piety, God gives a reward according to the proportion of their intention. Naturally, then, that one says: "How many hired workers of my father abound in bread, while I perish from hunger? I will return to my father; I will return, as the saying goes: 'Return, my soul, to your rest.'" And I will say: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me one of your hired workers." The words of the one repenting are one thing, and the words of the one receiving the repentance are another. The one coming from sins to repentance does not imagine the kingdom of heaven, does not judge himself worthy of eternal life, but has only one prayer: to be delivered from Gehenna. He himself expects little, but God bestows upon him the abundant wealth of beneficence. But O the wonder! He only conceived of repentance, and the father immediately arrived with philanthropy. He did not wait to receive the words of confession, but anticipated the request, according to what is said: "Before he calls me, I will say, 'Behold, I am here.'" He saw his son coming from afar and went to meet him. Do you see how philanthropy overtakes repentance?

For this reason also David, having stripped off the disease of sin with the medicine of repentance and knowing that God, being philanthropic, goes out to meet those who approach him, exhorts God, saying: "Rise up to meet me and see that I come to you genuinely, that I clothe myself in repentance with truth." The father received the son; and that one said to the father: "I have sinned; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me one of your hired workers." Here the father makes no reply to him; he does not answer him, but says to the servants: "Bring out the first robe for him." What does the riddle mean? The penitent prays much, but he does not obtain a response in words; rather, he sees the philanthropy through action. Here we are taught that our repentance is through words, but God's philanthropy is through deeds. "Bring out the first robe for him," which he lost through transgression. Give him also sandals. Why? Because the serpent is swollen against those who sin, according to what is said: "It will guard your head, and you will guard its heel." So that the destructive serpent may not approach with bare foot, so that it may not again pour out the venom of sin against the one freed from sin, he puts sandals on him for security. If he does not take the sandals, he cannot tread upon serpents and scorpions, nor upon the entire power of the enemy. For this reason, Paul, securing himself against the bites of the serpent, recently proclaimed: "I fear that, just as the serpent deceived Eve, so your thoughts might be corrupted from the simplicity toward Christ.

But here a certain new drama arises, that much-discussed question. For many take hold of the creation. And why, it is said, was the serpent in paradise? Why did the tree bring about such a great foundation of evils? Why did the creator plant such a plant? And how is it not absurd that a man, a gardener, takes care to remove contrary seeds and alien weeds from his own seeds and keep his own land pure from opposites, while God, having planted so great and so vast a paradise, should construct a plant from which the foundation of evils was to spring? The divine Paul leads us to this line of reasoning, saying: I fear that just as the serpent deceived Eve, so your thoughts may be corrupted from the simplicity toward Christ. What then, brothers? Leaving aside the many and superfluous details examined individually, let us come to the point: God made all things good—and not simply good, but very good. For the addition shows the extreme beauty of all that was made. So God gave to Adam abundance, enjoyment, the authority to enjoy paradise and to rule over visible things. For let us make man in our image and likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the wild beasts, the cattle, and the whole earth. Here he gave the authority of paradise; he gave luxury and enjoyment. So he was a king by appointment, having both authority over visible things and enjoyment of paradise.

It was necessary, then, for a commandment to be given to Adam, exercising his soul toward obedience. But many say: Did God not know that Adam would transgress? Why, then, did He legislate for one who was about to transgress? I entreat your love to strive along with me in this discourse, which is full of toil. For we are making a defense on behalf of the creation, on behalf of the divine work. He made man; He gave him abundance of all things; He commands him to eat from all. And if the commandment were narrow, permitting him to touch a few things but to abstain from the majority, the transgression would have a plausible excuse, the narrowness of enjoyment providing an occasion for the inclination of the will. But if the abundance is great, and the forbidden thing is small, why did he not honor the benefactor through obedience? Yet it is possible to say that He gave abundance of many things, but such beauty was not seen in another tree. For this tree is beautiful to the sight and good to the taste. So, in order to remove even this plausible excuse, God gave beauty to that tree and granted this to all the others as well. For Moses says: And God caused every tree to spring up that is beautiful to the sight and good for food. Why, then, was the commandment given? So that he might learn that he is under law and a master. And why was this one given, and not another? There was no other exercise of obedience. For what was God to say to Adam? Do not steal? Whose things? What was God to legislate? Do not murder? Whom? Do not commit adultery? Whose wife? Do not covet? Things belonging to whom? The commandment had no material; the world did not exist, nor the confusion now present in the world.

But it was necessary to say: "You shall not slander." What court was there? Who were the accusers? Or who were the accused? He gives him a commandment from the enjoyment that lay before him: to have abundance of all things, but to abstain from this one thing alone, so that while having the enjoyment of all things, he might have the lordship set over him, which forbade the tree—not because the tree itself was good, but because the transgression was wicked. For just as the law of nature intends a virgin to be given in lawful marriage, but if a virgin, anticipating her father's appointed time or the season of marriage, gives herself over to licentiousness, she incurs inexorable punishment from the laws—not because she has suffered something foreign to other virgins, but because she has given herself over to sin contrary to the law pleasing to her father, and is punished not because of the nature of the act, but because of the manner of the transgression—so also Adam becomes liable to punishment, not because he touched something forbidden, but because he appropriated what was forbidden by the commandment.

Read the records. Why do you quarrel about things you do not know? When you wish to trace the history or trial of ancient matters, do you not take the ancient records and learn what were the words of the accused, what those of the advocates and defenders, what those of the judge delivering the verdict, and thus renew what has been buried in oblivion through the memory of recollection? Read, then, the records of the ancient history. When the judge of truth sat down, or rather when the physician of our faults came to the condemned in the guise of a friend, what does he say to him? Adam, where are you? And what did Adam say? I heard your voice, and I hid myself, because I am naked. What then does the all-knowing one? He feigns ignorance and says: And who told you that you are naked, unless you ate from the tree, the only one from which I commanded you not to eat? He shows that he received abundance of all things, so to speak, and that it was not the narrowness of enjoyment that led him to the transgression. What then does the accused say to this? The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave to me. Adam attributes the sin to the woman, and you circumscribe the accusation to the tree? The accused was unable to utter any falsehood; he finds no escape outside the truth; he did not ascribe the cause to the creator, but accused the woman, and you accuse things whose power you do not know? And what does God say to Eve? Why did you do this? And she, in response to the question, answers the cause: The serpent deceived me. Did she touch the creation? Did she slander the creator? Did she say—

Why did you make us? Why did you forbid us from the tree? The one subject to the charges finds nothing to fabricate. For it is characteristic of the accused to invent even non-existent things to escape the charges. The one subject to the charges, then, found no other escape. And you, do you bring against God what the condemned did not bring, as an accusation? But I will again bring the discourse back to the matter at hand. Adam, where are you? Since he saw that the mouths of sinners are stopped, and the sinner has no boldness, in the form of a question he opens a path of defense for him. I transgressed and hid. Having heard of your philanthropy, master, I came forward to my defense. And observe the just judge. He does not immediately examine the one who sinned, but the one who was deceived. And rightly so. The court would have become harsher if it had first touched the guilty. But he begins with the one who is able to find even a small defense, that he received deception from another person. So from the man he proceeds to the woman and says, Why did you do this? And she says to the master, The serpent deceived me. The serpent deceived? The deception would have had room if the command had not preceded and foreclosed the error. If I had not first said that on whatever day you eat from the tree, you will die by death, the deception would have had room. Why did the word of God not prevail, but the word of deception was accepted? Thus the creator was blameless, but the transgressor was guilty.

But let us return to the matter at hand. The examination of the transgressions proceeds from the one who was deceived to the one who was deceived, but the sentence falls upon the cause of the evils. First, divine justice brings its verdict against that one. For it does not immediately pass judgment against the man, nor against the woman, but against the serpent. And observe the leniency of the judgment. God does not summon the serpent for examination. For he does not wish to refer the cause to another, nor to find another means of escape. What then does he say to it? "Cursed are you above all the beasts of the earth." The serpent was the visible instrument, but the devil was the one who invisibly deceived through the serpent. Why does divine justice inflict punishment on the instrument and not on the author of the wickedness? It proceeds both against the sin and against the instrument of the sin. You know that even in the case of a bull that has no reason, if it gores someone, God ordains death as the penalty, even though it has no reason, but he punishes the very impulse itself. So then, here too, he pronounces judgment against the serpent, showing that if the instrument of sin is punished in this way, much more does he punish the one who set it in motion. For this reason, the blessed Isaiah, rightly interpreting this threat against the serpent, says: "And it shall be in the last days: God will bring the holy, great, and mighty sword against the dragon, the fleeing serpent, against the dragon, the crooked serpent, and he will slay the dragon on that day." He calls the devil a dragon and a crooked serpent, the ruler of the demons. Thus also the Savior says:

Behold, I have given you the authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions. And, lest you take the visible things as a pretext, he added: And upon every power of the enemy. But when you hear "dragon" and "serpent," do not suppose a root of evil, as the Manichaeans say. For there was no root of evil, nor a nature of wickedness, but a turn toward lawlessness. Do you see, he says, how scripture called him serpent and dragon, as if introducing some alien nature of wickedness? But these are the empty and vain words of the impious, having no reasoning. For even when the Lord says to men, "Serpents, offspring of vipers," he does not slander their nature, but contends with their choice. Thus one must not be persuaded by words, but instructed by meanings. But they object again and seek another question. Why, they say, did it call the tree "the knowledge of good and evil," if not because the divine writing intended to make known some such nature of the plant? Do not simply slander the truth, O man. For the tree of good and evil did not generate a nature, but brought forth a circumstance, and it was called by such a name, not because it had this by nature, but because it accomplished this according to the decree. For what did the tasting teach Adam? That it is good to obey God and evil to disobey God. And this is the knowledge of good and evil, and nothing else at all. For what knowledge of good things did he find by looking immediately? What other good did he see? Almsgiving? For who were the poor there? But what did he see? That philanthropy is good? For what circumstance of philanthropy did he find? What then did he find?

that obedience is good, but disobedience to the benefactor is evil. Who makes this clear? Scripture says: "If it has been announced to you, O man, what is good or what does the Lord seek from you, other than to fear your Lord and God?" You see that the fear of God is good, and that disobedience to God is evil? "The heaven shuddered," it says, "and the earth was amazed, because my people did two evil things: they abandoned me, a spring of living water," and so forth. Why then, it says, did he say: "Do not touch the tree; if you eat from it, you will come to know good and evil through the transgression"? Why? I will clarify for you and give a concise account. It is always dear to divine Scripture to give such names to things as the circumstances may warrant. For example, what I mean: Isaac dug a well. The Philistines came and fought over the well and appropriated it for themselves, enjoying the fruits of others' labors. What then did Isaac do? He called the name of the pit "Enmity." It was not the pit that produced the enmity, but the circumstance concerning it created enmity. And for this reason, it became a well of enmity. He dug another well, and this too was taken away. And he called it "Well of Injustice," not because the well was unjust, but because the injustice had its material around the well. Similarly, the servants of Joab and Abner, concerning the spring, as those familiar with Scripture know, conspired against each other, clashing with one another, and the place was called "Share of the Conspirators." Again, here it is not the place that gave birth to the conspiracy, but the circumstance gave a name to the place. So then also in the case of Adam.

Since he was about to learn from experience that obedience is good and disobedience evil, the tree received its name from the circumstance. But let this suffice. May we flee from that tree and run to the tree of life, the plant of the cross, which blossomed with fruits of righteousness, sprouted virginity, poured forth holiness, and yielded diverse fruits, flourishing with many and varied advantages, which in this sensible planting of the wood bestowed upon us that greatest and strange salvation—not the one the Savior mysteriously arranged, but the one that thief openly plundered. For since Adam was expelled from paradise because of a tree—Righteous are you, Lord, and your judgments are straight—because for one sin Adam is banished, and for one faithful confession the thief is admitted into paradise: you are crucified with lawbreakers and you save lawbreakers. The thief says to him: "Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom." And this thief did not stop thieving until, along with others, he plundered even the kingdom itself. But the other thief reproaches the Lord: "If you are the son of God, save yourself and us." The words of the thief are akin to those of the Jews. For they also said: "If you are the son of God, come down from the cross, and we will believe you." Do you see how the children of the devil have a uniform teaching of impiety? "Save yourself and us," he says. What then of the blessed thief?

The condemned man speaks in defense of the Lord and assumes the role of judge, and begins to judge according to truth: "Do you not fear God, that we are under the same judgment? And we justly; for we receive what we deserve for what we have done. But this man—what has he done? Tell me, O robber, before Pilate, why did you not confess quickly? Why, after countless tortures, did you not then say what you had done?" It is one thing to be a human judge; it is another to be God the judge. To that one I tried to hide, who did not know the heart; from this one I do not hide, who enters into hearts. Why did you not confess quickly before Pilate? Because there, confession was followed by punishment; but here, confession is followed by salvation. For you speak your lawless deeds first, so that you may be justified. So one could see the Savior in the midst of the thieves, a balance of justice. So one could see him weighing faith and unfaith, and justice and injustice. He drew the middle of the judgment of justice; and the one weighed down by unfaith was dragged down, while the one lifted up by faith was raised up. "We," he says, "receive what we deserve for what we have done; but this man—what?" And now, he says, I see an injustice and a strange one: a just man crucified with unjust men, and good order punished with lawlessness. We receive what we deserve for what we have done; but this man—what has he done? We committed murders and killed the living; this man brought the dead to life and dissolved the violence of death. We plundered the property of others; this man commands even his own possessions to be given away. We killed those who had done no wrong; this man taught even to love enemies. The judgment is unjust.

Then, are this man’s deeds worthy of punishment, while ours are worthy of forgiveness? Judge the truth. Let wickedness flee; let justice be honored. But these things happened through Jewish wickedness; yet the prophetic mystagogy was being fulfilled, which speaks explicitly about the Savior: “And the righteous man was counted among the lawless.” But the blessed thief philosophized in this way; thus he taught those present, through the reproaches he directed at the other. When he saw that the hearing of those present was dead, he then turns to the one who knows the heart and says to the Lord: “Lord, remember me in your kingdom.” You see him crucified and you confess him as Lord? You see the form of a condemned man and you proclaim the dignity of a king? And why are we amazed, brothers, if Paul, after so much mystagogy, after so much experience of miracles, says: “For if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory?” Paul proclaims this after so much mystagogy, after the miracles, after the signs, after countless energies, after the resurrection, after the ascension. But the thief, while the apparent outrage of the fixed cross was at its height, calls the crucified one Lord and says to him: “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” What have you done worthy of remembrance? What have you not done worthy of punishment? Did you not murder? Did you not steal? Did you not plunder? Defiled by countless evils, do you deem it fitting to be remembered by the source of justice for your injustice? Yes, Lord, you are just, and your judgments are straight. Give me in accordance with your justice. I have seen your apparent outrage and the cross and the reproach of the lawless.

And I do not see the apparent insult, but the hidden kingdom. I overlook what I see; do you not overlook my visible faults and accept the faith of my mind? Remember me, Lord. O the just judgment! Remember me in your kingdom. Is it not just, Lord, to make the devil a traitor among the disciples? But from the disciples of the devil, should you not convert one into an evangelist? The disciple of truth was seized by injustice; will not the disciple of injustice be converted by truth? For you, Master, are the one who transforms darkness into light and crooked things into straight; transform also the robber into an evangelist; conquer wickedness with goodness; extinguish injustice with justice; and give glory to your philanthropy, to which glory and adoration are due for ever and ever. Amen.