In illud: Pater, transeat a me calix iste

A homily by the same author on the saying of the Gospel which was spoken: "Whoever among you will have a friend and will go to him at midnight," and on the saying: "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me," and on almsgiving. When the law of almsgiving was proclaimed to us, brothers, when the discourse concerning love of the poor and hospitality was being exercised, I saw the desire of all of you, and I praised your zeal and I blessed your eagerness. For like a thirsty land, you seized upon the heavenly word, knowing this, that what rain is to the earth, that the word of God is to the soul, and just as rain moves the earth to sprouts, so the word of God stirs souls to bear the fruit of divine philosophy. Hence, I think, the blessed Moses also, bearing witness to the flourishing and productive power of divine teaching, said through that holy and great song: "Let my utterance be awaited like rain, and let my words descend like dew." And lest he seem to ascribe to himself the authority of such theology, he immediately added: "Because I have called upon the name of the Lord.

I praise you, brothers, because you are not captivated by the letter, but you seize the beauties of the thoughts and, like the wise bee, entering this pure and spiritual meadow of the holy Scriptures and culling the beauties of piety, each of you in the hidden workshop of the soul moulds the divine oracles into wax. For just as honey and the honeycomb have their nature and power in the flowers, but their use and enjoyment in the labors of the bees, so, I think, also the flowers and power of this piety are in the divine Scripture, but the enjoyment of divine piety is in the labors of the virtuous. Having moulded these divine oracles into wax in himself, the blessed David also, using experience as a teacher, cried out, singing somewhere: "How sweet to my throat are your words, more than honey and honeycomb to my mouth." But I praise your eagerness not so much as I marvel at the father's abundance of love, swelling with divine wisdom and gleaming with heavenly grace. For being such a great river and irrigating such a church and delighting such a city of God—for the rushings of the river delight the city of God—and gushing forth pure and clear streams, he receives the trickles of our words; and such a great cloud swelling with heavenly rains does not shake off the droplet of our tongue, but he who provides for you before you, through his intercession, praises with you the speaker for what is said, and praises his own things as if they were foreign. For he imitates his own master Christ.

He who spoke through all the prophets praises what is proclaimed by the prophets. He himself spoke through the prophet Isaiah, he himself sounded the beneficence of the Spirit, and he himself accepts what comes from that one, saying to the Jews: "Hypocrites, Isaiah spoke well about you." Not "Isaiah spoke well," but "you spoke well through Isaiah and through all the prophets." So the blessed Zechariah bears witness, saying: "As he spoke through the mouth of the holy prophets from eternity." For the words were not of the prophets, but the activity of the Spirit. For just as a reed does not write what it wishes but is commanded by the hand, so the tongue of the prophets does not utter what it wants, but is commanded, being directed by the authority of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, I think, the blessed David also cries out rightly: "My tongue is the reed of a swift-writing scribe." So this wonderful father, granting us through his holy prayers the abundance of speech, praises what he hears, which he supplies while praying. Since, then, we have such a great and so great a father and an excellent president of the festival, judging not by law but awarding by love, come, let us, winged by his holy prayers, lift our mind to the height of the glory of the Only-begotten, not that we may attain his worth. For nothing reaches the worth of the Only-begotten—neither breadth of speech nor depth of thought. For he surpasses every mind and every conception. And David hints at this when he says: "A man will approach with a deep heart, and God will be exalted.

For the more one delves into the words concerning God, the higher he finds the knowledge of truth. Let us then speak of the goodness of the Only-Begotten from what has just been read. The source of wisdom has used parables; he who speaks through David has used parables: "I will open my mouth in parables," and he sets forth a certain image, full of great power, but seeming from the wording to be unlike his own goodness. For who among you, he says, will have a friend and go to him at midnight and say to him: "Friend, lend me three loaves, since a friend of mine has arrived from a journey and I have nothing to set before him." And the other answers: "The door is locked, my children are with me in bed; do not trouble me; I cannot get up and give." Then what does he add? "Truly, truly I say to you: Even if he will not give out of friendship, yet because of his shamelessness he will get up and give him more than he wants. And I say to you: Ask, and it will be given to you." What likeness does this parable bear to the abundance of his provision? For one is by nature sleepless, the other lies in bed; one is not held back by reluctance, the other is enslaved to reluctance and sleep. What then does the inequality of the parable intend? For he added: "And I say to you: Ask, just as that one asked the sleeper." For do you not sleep? Do you not have a sleepless nature? Do not the prophets cry out concerning you: "Behold, the one who guards Israel will neither slumber nor sleep"? What then does the inequality of the parable intend? The word of the Savior is always accustomed to present like things through like, and to show opposite things through opposites.

He does this also through another parable. Once, wishing to demonstrate from the opposite his own abundant goodness, the ungrudging grace and never-exhausted beneficence, he brought forward an image such as we have now heard. But let this first be examined and let it be made clear what it wishes to show. For the image is dissimilar. The savior wishes to say this: if the persistence of one who waited and overcame idleness by diligence awakened one enslaved to sleep, one held by idleness, one whose door was shut, will not the persistence of those who wait in truth awaken the immaterial nature, I mean God, who is not held by idleness, not enslaved to sleep? And who fights against this thought? So that you may learn precisely how he showed the opposite from the opposite, a little further on he used the same image again, which shows the opposite through the opposite: For which of you, he says, when the son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or a fish, and instead of a fish a snake? Or an egg, and instead of an egg a scorpion? Then, setting forth the better from a comparison with the human, he says: If then you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly father give good things to those who ask him? Do you see how he showed the opposite from a comparison with the opposite?

He has used such a parable elsewhere as well, as I said earlier. What this parable is and what power it has, I think it good and necessary to state. There was, it is said, a certain judge in the city, who feared neither God nor respected any human being. A widow persistently troubled him, but accomplished nothing more. For his godlessness and harshness were not shamed by supplication. Yet persistence conquered his savage severity. And that unjust judge said to himself: "Even if I do not fear God and am not ashamed before humans, still, because she causes me trouble, I will not grant her justice." This is the parable. Then the Savior, wishing to show the opposite from the opposite again, immediately added: "Do you see what the unjust judge said? Will not God then exact vengeance for those who cry out to him?" If, he says, persistence on the part of the widow bent even the unjust and harsh man toward compassion, will not persistence on the part of those who attend upon the good God, the loving father, and the philanthropic master draw him toward mercy?

These things he taught through that parable; these things he also sets forth through the present one. And I say to you: ask and you shall receive; knock and it shall be opened. According to the image of the one who knocked and said, "Friend, open," seek and ask, and you shall find. But when you ask of God, consider what it is that you ask and of whom you ask. For many, brothers, take up different opinions about God in their prayers and wish God, when they themselves pray concerning their own sins, to be good and philanthropic; but when they call upon him for vengeance against those who wrong them, to be something severe and just and full of much right judgment. For example, when someone, standing in his own behalf, prays, he uses words that both persuade and entreat God: "I beseech you," he says, "Lord, have mercy on me, the unworthy; I beseech you, Lord, you are good, you are philanthropic, you overlook sins, you pass over wrongdoings. If you should take note of lawlessness, Lord, who would withstand you? Act toward me according to your mercy." These things all say when they pray on their own behalf. But when someone comes grieved against an enemy, he forgets this speech and turns his supplication to another thought. And what does he say then? "Lord, you are a just judge, evil things do not please you; avenge me from my enemies; you are a judge of truth; do not be patient with my enemies, but as a judge of truth, judge the truth." — When I judge for you, do you wish me to be good? When I judge for your enemies, do you wish me to be just? Have you forgotten your former prayers? Did you not call me good?

Were you not entreating him as a lover of humanity? Were you not beseeching him as patient? What then? Should I divide myself according to your opinions? And should I sell justice for what pleases you? But it is not possible that you should have the goods that come from goodness, while your enemies have the lawful benefits of just judgment. For the good one is good to all, and the just one preserves justice for all. See, then, lest by praying against your enemies you stir up the just one against yourself; for the just one examines your affairs along with those of others, so that if you call upon him as just against your enemies, you necessarily provoke the judge also against yourself; but if you beseech him as good on your own behalf, he will be good to all, even if you do not wish it. Therefore, when praying, you must ask for such things as are pleasing to God; when praying, you must beseech for such things as then give rest to God. For if the Savior, having said, "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me," added, "but not as I wish, but as you," do you, a worthless man, judge according to your own opinion, and do you not yield to the divine opinion?

But now I finally bring the discourse to the subject itself, since I know this is demanded of me by you. I see, then, that you are all distressed and constrained by the labor, but Isaiah speaks well, encouraging and urging everyone to listen: "Learn to listen while distressed." He spoke well, and you all listened well, distressed in body but released in spirit. For the present affliction frees you from many afflictions. Sweats endured for God dissolve every disease of sins. A crisis of sweat, arising from nature, dissolves a disease of the body; but sweats for God and for the word of God, flowing as from a spring of desire, do they not utterly dissolve the disease of sins? But let us return to the matter at hand. I know that the discourse I omitted is demanded of me by you. And many, as friends, both desire and seek it, while many others simply hunt for phrases and attempt to slander. For it has not escaped everyone that many of the slanderers have spread the rumor that we have left the discourse unexamined due to weakness. But I marvel at such people not for their accusation but for their inopportune timing. You accuse as one who has lent and not received back the loan. For was I, when the discourse was demanded, fleeing the solution? Or did I, when another proposed a question to me, shake off the inquiry? I myself promised, I myself forgot. And why, he says, did you forget?—Then blame the weakness of nature, and do not find fault with the discourse of the exposition.

Especially if the interpretation exceeded us, the power of the subject under investigation was not entirely corrupted along with the weakness of the speech. For the just claims of truth are not betrayed on account of my feebleness. In the present case, however, the reason for the delay is clear. For by the multitude of things said, like waves, distracting my mind here and there, it drew me away from the proposed inquiry. What I then omitted unwillingly, I now willingly repay. And while repaying the debt, I am again afraid. For I find among you some new and strange intoxication, producing not forgetfulness but awakening memory, although we all know that the work of intoxication is to obliterate memory and introduce forgetfulness. But you, brothers, the more you are intoxicated with the divine word, the more you banish forgetfulness and display inspired memory. And the wonderful thing is that those who serve you wine become intoxicated, burdened by the excess of thought, while you, after drinking so many bowls of the divine word, even after intoxication thirst, and demand what was omitted with great precision. And truly one can see the words of spiritual drunkards: "He omitted the cup, he did not interpret the cup, he did not render the account of the cup." I love you who yearn for the cup of Christ. I love you who seek what was omitted. I love you for the most excellent intoxication, not willing to yield even one cup, and rightly so. For in the case of bodily feasting, the one who omits the cup for the sake of philosophy is admirable.

At the divine and heavenly table, the one who omits nothing that leads to saving intoxication, but is both fed and hungry, both drunk and thirsty, truly partakes of the salvation of the cup. I therefore count as blessed, within myself, both those who speak and those who hear. Those who hear, when they listen while thirsty. For the Savior says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled." And those who speak, because divine teaching must resound in living ears. For blessed is the one who speaks into the ears of those who hear. For now, let us set that aside. Let it be said, then: "Father, if possible, let the cup pass from me." For this saying is full of many questions and brings great sickness to the heretics—not because it is badly spoken, but because it is badly understood. For some consider the "if possible" to introduce something inevitable, bringing in the necessity of so-called fate and mythologized destiny; others, in a different way, insult the dignity of the Only-begotten, constructing from this a servile submission of the Son to the Father. For, they say, being subject to the Father's authority, he made use of this entreaty. What argument, then, will suit us for the question at hand? And what will resolve this much-talked-about problem of the heretics? There is no other way than to make the truth known from itself. Let us therefore run back to the very summit of the Savior God himself, to the economy itself, who does and says everything not only according to the dignity befitting him, but also according to the economy fitting for us.

And to be brief—for it is good for me to be concise and to take up many things in few words—the Savior foreknew that the Passion was necessary, and that for the salvation of the world a cross is erected, death is exposed, and resurrection is ordained. And he knew this so well that he even foretold to the disciples: "Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinful men, and they will mock him and crucify him, and on the third day he will rise." This is the voice of a God who foresees the future, a God who anticipates experience with knowledge, a God who administers human affairs. Peter, with sparing concern for the flesh, speaks against him as he says these things and says: "Mercy on you, Lord; this shall not happen to you." What then does the Savior do? He is vexed at the untimely disposition and blames the untimely sparing, and says to him: "Get behind me, Satan, for you do not think the things of God, but the things of men." Here examine and consider the whole argument well: if you serve the bare wording, you impute to the Savior not only great weakness, but also an inconsistency of reasoning. Do you accuse, O Lord, Peter who prays that the cross be averted from you, and do you yourself entreat the same things you accuse? This is not only unfitting for God, but not even proper for a man of standing. Who praises a general who, before the war, with great pomp and great boldness threatens the enemy, but in the very heat of the war flees and shows cowardice and unmanliness? Before Christ came to the Passion, he said to the one who prayed that the Passion be averted: "Get behind me, Satan, for you do not think the things of God.

Is he claiming this for himself as he prays? O the folly, or rather the madness, of those who serve the bare letter and rashly dare everything and attempt to misinterpret divine matters, and who are unwilling even to consider this: that from the bare interpretation of the words they are eager to show him not only inferior to the Father, but also lesser than many wise and just men, and not even possessing the common condition of human beings. For what wise or just man, or any other of those men simply attested for virtue, denies his own virtue and insults the courage he has proclaimed and announced beforehand? Who is so fickle and changeable as to boast in his promises, but then, when tested by experience, to think otherwise? Does the one who threatens death and its dissolution, who proclaims the resurrection, beg off from the cross? I have said these things to refute those who serve the letter, who insult the Lord, and who peddle the truth. What then does the contradiction of the words themselves intend, when the truth always agrees with itself? And what does the harmony of the truth devise in the face of the conflict of the sayings? For the sayings truly conflict, but the divine meanings remain in concord. Therefore, it is fitting for me to speak diligently and for you to listen eagerly concerning the resolution of the meanings before us.

Therefore the Lord, coming to the cross and foreseeing the completion of the economy, the mighty God and sole sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords—since many heretics rise up against the truth, misrepresenting the divine passion, falsely claiming a strange drama of the economy, and especially the disciples of the one named after madness, I mean the Manichaeans, who dare to say that Christ underwent the passion in some shadow and phantasm, and that he did not even take on flesh, but received the cross in form and shadow and phantasm—for this heretical error, he preemptively stops the mouths of the heretics, and in order to show that he put on this body subject to many passions, the body that struggles, that trembles at the violence of death, that grieves and is disturbed at the end of life, he says: Now my soul is troubled; my soul is very sorrowful unto death. Pay close attention. My soul is very sorrowful; Father, if possible, let it pass. If what is happening is shadow and phantasm, why is he troubled? If it is form and phantasm, why is he disturbed? For shadow frightens no one anywhere. Where there is form and not reality, nothing is capable of causing disturbance.

Do you wish me to establish the truth of the definition for you from a narrative? Once, angels entered Sodom, men in appearance, angels in nature. The Sodomites attempted to force them, as men, into shameful and unbridled licentiousness. What then did the angels? Since they knew that they were not clothed with a body capable of enduring violence, they were not disturbed, but the nature of the angels remained untroubled, receiving no wave of passions from the body. And Lot, truly thinking them to be men, became agitated lest they suffer violence, and he beseeched the frenzied men, saying: "I beg you, do not wrong these men, do not let them suffer violence, for whose sake they entered under the roof of my house. I give up my own beauty; take my daughters." O what noble hospitality, preferring one's own before strangers! But Lot, as a man, was disturbed, while the nature of the angels endures no disturbance; for with great authority they departed, embracing the one who could endure violence, and they struck those who endured that unbridled, rather godless, licentiousness with blindness; and they went about the whole night seeking the door and did not find it; for those who saw wickedly were justly and rightly blinded. Why do I say these things? For the ancient narrative has nothing in common with the present one; but to show that where there is a semblance, there is no fear, but where there is truth, there is both fear and grief. In short, brothers, so that the Savior himself may defend what the words were, and cut off the heretics' notions and fix the doctrines of truth, he says to the apostles:

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Then he himself attributes it to the weakness of the flesh, but you, heretic, cast the baseness upon the authority of the divinity. But indeed, by not being eager to go beyond the word and find the meaning, you have been found insulting the master beyond measure. For you do not, as you suppose, only establish this, that he prayed to the Father and as a suppliant is inferior to the one supplicated, but I show more clearly that if you were to serve the bare expression, you would make him not only inferior to the Father, but also lesser than his own apostles. For just as with those who wrongly interpret the phrase "I do not speak from myself, the Father gave me a command what to say and what to utter," the apostolic authority came forward to curb the madness, with Paul saying: "Concerning the virgins, I have no command from the Lord, but I give an opinion"—and he gives it—O the much more bitter doctrine of the heresy. If it was permitted for Paul to exercise authority without a command from God, but it was not permitted for Christ to speak anything outside the Father's commands—so also here, from a comparison with apostolic courage, it would be possible to show, to the heretical madness being carried away, that the Lord's utterance is far inferior to apostolic dignity. But as I have often said before, if we serve the word, we fall into blasphemy; if we accept the meaning, the truth remains unwounded, or rather we will remain unwounded; for the truth is not wounded. If, therefore, you do not grasp the theory but follow the word, you find Christ acting cowardly and speaking far beneath both his own dignity and the courage of the apostles. Now my soul is troubled.

Paul, having arrived in the regions of Palestine, when a certain prophet named Agabus came and said, "Thus says the Holy Spirit: 'This man, whose belt this is, will be bound thus by the elders and the priests in Jerusalem,'" and with all the brothers urging Paul not to go up to Jerusalem, that noble voice, or rather that courageous and noble soul, answers those who are dissuading him: "Why are you weeping and crushing my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die for the name of Christ." Then Paul, with such boldness, with such steadfastness, with such great courage, trampling upon death and the terrors of death, while the master of Paul says, "Now is my soul troubled?" And Paul's heart is not crushed, but Christ's soul is troubled? And Paul says, "Not only that, but we even boast in our afflictions." Paul boasts in afflictions, but Christ, the master of Paul, says, "My soul is deeply grieved." What likeness does grief have to boasting? A man truly considers suffering a boast. But Christ, who strengthens him, considers the economy a grief?

Consider also another disposition of Paul, full of great courage. Once, when he was detained in Philippi of Macedonia, after many blows had been inflicted on him and great distress was tormenting his body—for they gave him many blows, cast him into prison, and secured his feet in the stocks—that noble champion of piety, and Silas with him, conquered the calamity by their power, conquered the sufferings by their philosophy. And the historian, having noted this well, says: "About midnight Paul and Silas were singing hymns to God." They suffer and give thanks, they are beaten and sing hymns. And observe the precision of the historian. He did not say: "About midnight Paul and Silas were praying to God," but "singing hymns"; for prayer often arises from distress, but a hymn from exultation. The apostles, then, manifest grace: "About midnight Paul and Silas were singing hymns to God"—a sign of a cheerful soul. The saints, wishing to represent the cheerfulness of the soul, did not, it says, suffer as though distressed, but sing hymns as though exulting. Then Paul and Silas, men by nature, show greatness of soul in their sufferings. And do you ascribe to Christ, the king of the saints, base words spoken through economy for the diminishment of his dignity? Away with such a thought. Let no one insult holy things, let no one slander divine things, let no one attempt to construct impiety from the words of the Savior, deeming them base.

But the hearer demands from me consistency. "You have shown well," he says, "that the words truly belong to the economy, but explain to me the very force of the economy. Why did he use such words at all? Why did he say, 'Let the cup pass from me, if possible'?" The "if possible," brothers, neither introduces a necessity of fate nor of the fabled birth, nor does it accuse the speaker of cowardice or lack of courage; rather, the "if possible" belongs to one who is managing the human persona and sparing those who are about to be scandalized. For since he knew that the passion was able to scandalize many, especially those not initiated into the mysteries of the economy—for we proclaim Christ crucified, a scandal to Jews and folly to Greeks—therefore, taking up the human image, the one who wisely manages all things says, if it is possible for the economy to be fulfilled in another way and apart from death, so that the many might not be scandalized by such a passion. "If possible, then, let it pass.

But you have pressed me," he says. "Show me the truth that is attested, that he said these things out of consideration for human weakness. So then, listen to how, while conversing with the apostles, he says at the same time, at the very height of the passion: 'Pray.' And they became drowsy. Then, reproaching them, he says: 'So you were not able to stay awake for one hour? Pray, that you may not enter into temptation.' He did not say 'that I may not enter,' for the passion did not harm him, but it scandalized the others. 'Pray, that you may not enter into temptation.' He did not say 'that I may not enter into temptation,' but 'that you may not enter into temptation.' I spare you; I do not exempt myself from the passion. I know the future; I know the future benefit that will bloom for all people from the economy. But since, before the outcome, the visible things scandalize you, I wish, if it is truly possible, that the passion be averted. So the 'if possible' is not as many think. For it is necessary to work out the argument, that it does not have an inviolable necessity or an inexorable limit. And do you wish to learn, brother, that the lot was not brought down upon the Savior by necessity from above, but that the all-wise economy of the Lord himself fulfills everything by his own purpose? Listen clearly to how the Lord himself, anticipating, dissolved the suspicion of necessity, and also made known the authority of his own purpose. Listen to what he says: 'No one takes my soul from me.' For he says: 'I have authority to lay down my soul, and I have authority to take it up.' And again: 'Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it.' If, then, you have authority, why have you used the expression 'if possible'?

For your sake, the weak, not for my sake, the capable and strong and superior to all weakness." Why does he call the passion a "cup" at all? For another inquiry arises: why does he call the passion a "cup"? Scripture is always fond of calling the discipline imposed by God upon sinners a "cup." Pay close attention, I ask, and be an intelligent listener, not snatching at the words but waiting for the meanings. For it is possible that one who hears badly may also misinterpret what is said badly. Nevertheless, let the one speaking in church not be surprised if he endures some slander from those who simply attempt to accuse falsely; for even the apostles were slandered as having said some forbidden things. Listen to Paul proclaiming the slander made against him: "And not as we are blasphemed, and as some say we say, let us do evil so that good may come; whose judgment is just, because they slander as having heard what they did not hear, because they bring forward as slander against the teachers what they did not hear from the teachers." But let us return to the matter at hand. Scripture is always fond, as I said earlier, of calling the disciplines or punishments imposed by God upon sinners a "cup." But let the enemy and spy not immediately seize upon the word and say, "What then? Did Christ sin and undergo punishment for sins?" Far from it. But he himself was not liable to punishment, but you are subject to punishment; on behalf of us who are condemned by sin and subject to punishment, he underwent death, just as Isaiah also proclaims beforehand, saying:

He came to death for the sins of the people. Since, then, he accepted the punishment against sinners, taking it upon himself, he fittingly calls it a cup. For behold, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world: he also takes away our sins and was led to death for the sins of the people. His passion is therefore called a cup according to the reasoning previously given. For this reason, the blessed David, describing the penalty against sinners, says: "A cup in the hand of the Lord, full of unmixed wine of mixture; all the sinners of the earth will drink it." And again, the Lord, threatening punishment against the nations, says to Jeremiah: "Take a cup and mix it and give it to drink to all the nations and to Jerusalem, and say to them: Drink and be drunk and be beside yourselves." What is "Be beside yourselves"? The discipline from God brings many into a state of astonishment; for the punishment inflicted often brings many into perplexity, especially when they see the righteous taken together with the unjust. This is what they now murmur throughout the whole earth: Why were priests slaughtered at the altars? Why were holy virgins taken? Why did such and so great outrages occur? Why did God not stand by his own? Since such sufferings bring about astonishment and perplexity of reasoning, he fittingly says: "Drink and be drunk and call out gently: Wait for my weakness, and I will lay bare the truth to you." Again, the Savior, addressing his passion as a cup, says to those around James and John: "Can you drink this cup, which I am about to drink?" that is, "Undergo the passion which I am about to undergo?" They say, "Yes.

The blessed David clearly taught that he calls the cup the death brought on for piety. For he says: What shall I render to the Lord for all that he has rendered to me? Like a grateful servant, seeing the consolations teeming with benefactions, he too seeks to give back some small gratitude, and like a poor man receiving a rich man, at a loss as to what to prepare for the rich man for a feast, what to bring to the table worthy of his superiority, he often is at a loss with himself and says to himself: How shall I receive him worthily, what shall I do, what shall I offer, how shall I honor him, how shall I entertain him? Thus the blessed David, looking upon human poverty and the wealth of divine beneficence, and seeing that nothing worthy of God is brought by men, says, using the voice of perplexity: What shall I render to the Lord? I find nothing worthy of the benefaction. What shall I render? What shall I do? What shall I become? With what gifts shall I requite the benefactor? When, then, he was at a loss for everything, he found one thing, not worthy of the benefaction of God, but of his own zeal: I will take the cup of salvation and I will call upon the name of the Lord. Then, since what was said was unclear and obscure, he interpreted the cup through what follows. For after saying, I will take the cup of salvation and I will call upon the name of the Lord, he adds: Precious before the Lord is the death of his saints.

Therefore, "Father, if possible, let the cup pass from me," if possible, let the suffering pass. But you have the solution to the questions already given, that the "if possible" fulfills the form of the human economy. For the one who said this from the perspective of humanity had himself previously said from the perspective of the divinity that holds authority over all: "I have authority to lay down my soul and I have authority to take it again." And showing that it is not the divinity that declines the suffering, but the weakness of the flesh, the same one says again: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." And that the suffering did not harm him, but scandalized others, he himself made known to the disciples, saying: "Pray that you do not enter into temptation." Moreover, that prayer also teaches us not to demand everything from God in prayer, but to defer to his judgment. Wisely managing all this, he says: "Not as I wish, but whatever you wish." These things are not fitting for him, but are suitable for you, so that when you pray, you do not ask for what you yourself want, but defer to the will of God. Therefore, you too, when praying, say in imitation of Christ, who humbled himself for your sake: "But whatever you wish, Lord." Defer to the will of God; do not demand things contrary to his intention. For to those who love God, everything cooperates for good, both things that do not turn out according to their wish and things that turn out contrary to their expectation.

Knowing, then, that the cup is brought from God as punishment for those who sin, but for Christ the suffering is not of punishment but of economy. For the sinless one endured the death of sinners, in order to deliver the whole world condemned by sin. Why, he said, does he call death a cup at all? That the cup signifies punishment and death, the testimony of the scriptures has clearly demonstrated. But why does he call the suffering a cup at all? For a cup has nothing in common with death. Because the disciplines brought upon us, brothers, appear to us harsh and severe and full of great calamity, divine scripture necessarily calls sufferings a cup, in order to show that God does not punish as a harsh judge nor destroy as a merciless one, but as a physician he heals the sufferings and brings the disciplines like a bitter antidote to those who are ill. This salutary cup of disciplines is bitter in taste but most excellent in outcome. The word, then, presents the good God through the cup as a good disciplinarian, as a father disciplining and not as a king condemning, not as an enemy striking, but as a physician astringing. And just as a physician, brothers, when he applies iron or a cautery to the body, does not fight against the person but resists the disease, so also God, when he brings disciplines, does not punish his own creation but purifies the sin. Have you never seen a physician operating out of anger? Have you never seen him applying a cautery or any other thing out of anger?

And yet, is not the sight of the physicians frightening to the one being operated on, but the intention of the one treating him good? For it is not because the treatment is frightening to the one being treated that the physician treats him with anger. But if even the profession of the art is frightening, the blessed Paul, setting forth a definition of discipline, says well to all and wonderfully: All discipline does not seem to be of joy for the present, but of grief. The sick person, when he sees the physician cutting, often begs off, as from something fearful and hostile. But when he is healed, he then looks upon and venerates the one whom he once turned away from seeing. Or do we not know, brothers, how often the excess of the disease leads the one being treated even to insult those who treat him? And the physician forgives the one who is angry. For the insult is not of the disposition, but of the affliction. When, however, he goes forth adorned with health, he even gives a fee for that former supposed severity, and gives it not under compulsion, but compelling himself. So also we now are distressed by afflictions, but when the fruit of the affliction arrives, we will praise the benefactor and greatly admire him, saying ourselves along with David: We passed through fire and water, and he led us out into refreshment.

And yet now he calls the afflictions a cup, and not simply a cup, but a cup in the hand of the Lord, full of unmixed wine of a mixture. And again the expression is contradictory, as far as the wording goes. For the mixed and the unmixed have no similarity to each other. Why then is the cup of God both unmixed and mixed? The covenant and discipline always brought by him to men is both unmixed and mixed: unmixed in that it is not mixed with injustice alongside justice, in that nothing lawless or unjust or spurious is mingled with his righteous judgment, but it is like unmixed, that is, naked and pure, the eye of justice seeing clearly and brightly. For this reason it is a cup in the hand of the Lord of unmixed wine. For injustice is not mixed with justice. There is nothing there of the opposites capable of adulterating the truth of the judge. It is a cup of unmixed wine. Why then is it full of mixture? Does the expression not seem contradictory to you? But it is reconciled with truth. An unmixed cup, as I have often said before, because it has no injustice, but mixed again, because philanthropy is mixed with justice, as if one were to say: unmixed for vengeance and mixed for philanthropy. For in disciplining he shows mercy, and in showing mercy he disciplines.

And observe a strange definition of truth. It is a sign of God's providence and love for humanity when he chastises those who sin; it is a sign of wrath and indignation when he does not chastise the one who sins. Then fear God as one who hates and turns away, when he does not chastise the one who sins. For whom the Lord loves, he chastises, and he scourges every son whom he accepts. But whom he turns away from because of the excess of sin, that one he leaves unchastised and unpunished. And what word sets this forth? Listen to him speaking through the prophet Hosea: "Because," he says, "you transgressed my law, I will not look after your daughters when they commit fornication," as if he said: I hand you over to sin; I do not punish lawlessness; I do not check corruption; I do not heal the wounds of sin; but I let you die in your own evils. Do you see how he is indignant and threatens by not chastising? But when he truly loves, he does not refuse to chastise. It has therefore been shown, brothers, to the best of our ability, what the manner of the prayer is and what is meant by "Father, if possible, let this cup pass from me," that these were not words of divine authority, but of human economy. For clearly the Lord, attributing to the weakness of the flesh the lowly things of cowardice and fear and disturbance, said: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." I will often recall this saying, so as to confirm the meaning of the truth. But if anyone dares to falsify the account given of this question, having first set up his own definition, he will contend with our words, if he is able to fight against the divine word.

Let him not accuse as an enemy, but as one fighting for the truth, let him bring it forward openly. But let this suffice for now. Having come to the matter at hand, let us conclude the discourse. For I think that the account of the economy and of the saying has been given fully and completely; for if someone contradicts after such testimony, the truth is not overturned. "But if someone," says the apostle, "seems contentious, we have no such custom. We have learned to follow the scriptures, not to practice dialectic. I prefer to solecize with the scriptures than to Platonize with you." And let these things be said to you sufficiently. But let us remember the poor. For Paul today clearly reminded us about them. For having said that Peter and James and John gave right hands of fellowship to me and Barnabas, that we might go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcision, he added: "Only that we remember the poor." Therefore let us also remember the poor. Remember a poor person and you have remembered yourself. You pity yourself when you pity another, you benefit yourself when you benefit a needy person, you sow in him and you reap in the heavens. Here almsgiving is sown and in the heavens it is reaped. Do not say: "What then shall I do, overwhelmed by need? I want to give alms, but I cannot. I want to, but the narrowness of my circumstances does not obey me." From what you can, do; work according to your ability. Learn not only to hear while being constrained, but also to give alms while being constrained. Listen to what Isaiah says:

If you are hungry in your soul, instead of taking from what you are about to eat, if you take and give and make the poor man a partner in your food, you have had mercy on yourself, by means of which you fed him. I know that I am to remind you also of what has already been said to you concerning almsgiving. Almsgiving procures the friendship of God; almsgiving works remission of transgressions; almsgiving also delivers from death. So the blessed Tabitha was given over to death by the law of nature, but by the gratitude of widows she was recalled from death back to life. For the tears of the poor dissolved the gates of death. Consider what power a poor man has when he prays. When that Tabitha, who was filled with good works, died, all the widows stood around Peter weeping, and the tears of the poor quenched the mourning, or rather overcame its force. For she who had died was given back by the law of nature to the word of grace. For she was full of almsgivings. The widows wept and implored God. Here pay close attention in your mind. To die is according to nature; to rise from the dead is both contrary to nature and above nature. If, then, the tears of the poor were able to accomplish what is above nature, do they not accomplish what is according to nature? Consider how much a widow groaning against a powerful man can do. If a poor man groans against a violent rich man, if an orphan groans against those who wrong him, see how he rouses God. Therefore, let not a poor man groan against you, let not a beggar groan, let not an orphan cry out. Sow almsgiving for orphans, so that you may store up philanthropy for yourself and your children.

Imitate Abraham, who, having spread the bowels of hospitality toward all the needy, left to his own descendants a pledge of salvation. And observe the wonder. Having loved hospitality, he was deemed worthy to receive even angels of God. So through hospitality he received even angels. And then a man ate the bread of angels. Thus hospitality advances: by receiving men, it reaches also to the reception of angels; it reaches again to the reception of God. For God was there, attended by angels as bodyguards. Hence also our Lord Jesus, the only-begotten Word of God, setting forth the fruit of the table of the generous, says: He who receives you receives me. Through hospitality the blessed Abraham also received God. And observe the wonder. He saw three, but he worshipped one; for he did not say "Lords," but "Lord." He saw three and hymned one Lord. But this is not the time to examine those matters, but to exercise the practices of hospitality. He received them and did not rest them. Strange mysteries of God’s philanthropy. See how the Lover of mankind repays the benefactions: I am the bread that came down from heaven. You feed men; I give heavenly food to your descendants. Contrary to nature, angels eat from men what comes from men; contrary to nature, men receive heavenly things. Neither is that food natural to the nature of angels, nor this to the nature of men. But to speak of these things with precision now is not the time. But you, long for the reward of hospitality, and there strive for the sake of wealth, and store up the reward for yourself. You have a field; sow into the field of the poor. He scattered.

he gave to the poor; his righteousness remains forever. Let these things have been said sufficiently by us. For the reminder concerning the poor has been made again for confirmation, not for instruction. The things previously said are sufficient to rouse the well-disposed. But let us also call to mind the spiritual father, the teacher of the church, and say to him opportunely: Awake, my glory; awake, psaltery and cithara. There is need of your teaching and of your paternal words to award the prize to our words. For even if the flour is much, yet there is need of the small leaven; even if the words are many, there is need of spiritual assistance, so as to consolidate and confirm what we have said for the glory of Christ, because glory belongs to him for ever and ever. Amen.