In Iob sermo 1

On the Righteous and Blessed Job, Homily 1 The annual athlete of the world has come to us today; the stranger, the combatant of equal honor with the angels has come to us, the one beaten much by the devil and much witnessed to by God; the one struck much by the devil and receiving many prizes from the angelic spectators; the one scourged much by the enemy and proclaimed a great victor by God to the world. For thus he said, conversing with himself: Do you think I have dealt with you otherwise than that you might be shown to be righteous? Who then can praise such a hero worthily? Who will dare to weave prizes equal to his deeds of valor? Who will attempt to ascend the infinite sea of encomia? For just as no one of sound mind would ever dare to cross the expanse of the sea with human steps, so no one of the wise and very learned teachers will ever attempt to relate to the hearers the praises worthy of that noble and thrice-blessed soul. For his achievements surpass all human wisdom; his struggles surpass all crown-wearing. Therefore we need an angelic tongue, so that, touching that perfume-box, so to speak, with the tips of our fingers, we may fill the whole church at once. For if we only attempt to touch the vessel of Job and shake it a little, the church is immediately filled with the fragrance of the ointment. Let us then hear the history as it speaks about him.

In all these things that happened to him, Job sinned nothing with his lips against the Lord. Did you see the testimony rousing the good repute of the angels? Did you see the testimony putting the devil to shame along with his machinations? In all these things that happened to him, he sinned nothing. This testimony of God, like a precious ointment, delights those who hear it in every church. O precious vessel stored in one place in Arabia, yet sending the fragrance of the ointment throughout the whole world! O vessel struck by the devil with countless stones and blows and missiles, yet not spilling the ointment! Great was the labor for the devil to shatter the vessel and destroy the ointment of piety; and he strove through the foul odor of the wounds to darken the fragrance of the ointment. For his body also stank from the ulceration of the wounds; but the vessel remained wounded, and the ointment was not destroyed, so that we too may fittingly say to him: "Your name is ointment poured out." It is therefore necessary to set up the athlete naked, as he wrestled, so that looking at that marvelous image, we may be assured through the nature of things that God, wishing to show the devil that he has righteous men on earth, no longer deceived by flattery like Adam, but crowned through countless tortures and scourges, permitted this drama to take place. "Apostate," he says, "you are proud because you deceived Adam and, flattering the woman, cast them out of paradise.

Behold a man who lived without the precepts of scripture, and who accomplished the unwritten law of nature by his intellect. Bring countless flatteries, countless blandishments, countless tortures, if you can, to shake this most excellent soul. Behold, you cast the first man out of paradise. Now see, attempt, if you can, to trip up even from the dung-heap this athlete. But, if you please, let us run back a little to the history itself. There was a certain man in the land of Ausitis, whose name was Job. And that man was blameless, righteous, god-fearing, truthful, abstaining from every evil deed. Such also was Adam before he was persuaded by the woman. For this reason this man is not persuaded by the woman, so that he might not become like him. That one was clothed in incorruption, as his creator knew, and because he was persuaded by the woman, he became naked and was condemned. This one was naked, and was not persuaded by the woman, and so that he might not be persuaded by the woman, he put on the crown-bearing of the angels. That one, because he was persuaded by the woman, fell from the delight of paradise, made the earth a mother of thorns, and inherited death; this one, because he was not persuaded by the woman, received freedom from the dung-heap and the blows, and inherited the kingdom of the heavens. That one, defending himself to God, said, "The woman whom you gave me, she gave to me, and I ate." O an apology that has no pardon! She said, "Eat"; I said, "Do not eat." Why then did you listen to the woman and disobey God? But not so was the blessed Job. But how? With reproach he said:

You spoke like one of the foolish women. There was a man in the land of Ausitis, whose name was Job. Why did he name the land? For your sake, that you may learn that the company of sinners cannot make the righteous man sin, but the resolve of the pious ought to have a steadfast and firm purpose. For this land of Arabia is a dwelling place of wicked and corrupt men. All were lawless, all hateful to God, all profane, all arrogant, and descendants of Esau, and luxuriating in sins. But such a sea of impiety could not extinguish the lamp of piety; such a land of evils could not suffocate the beauty of endurance. Hence the devil attempted to approach him. Why? Because he saw him more wealthy in alms than in money. For listen to him speaking without falsehood: "I was an eye to the blind, and a foot to the lame." And again: "I wept for the helpless, and groaned when I saw a man in distress." And not only through words, but also through deeds he abounded in wealth, being a whole treasury of beneficence to those in need. For what does he say elsewhere? "No one in need left my house with an empty lap; the mouth of a widow blessed me; from the shearing of my sheep the shoulders of the poor were warmed." So it is clear that he was a whole treasury of wealth through all things: through words, through deeds, through almsgiving, through protection of the poor, through assistance to those in need. But see what the devil does.

He first seizes all his possessions from him, and finally takes his children. He first took the herds of camels, he took the flocks of sheep, the great number of donkeys, the immense herd of cattle; he took everything away, and finally the children. Why? Pay attention now with all precision: He first took all his possessions, then his children; he took the heritable property, then he destroyed the heirs, so that he might strike him in every way, even through his children. He first began to destroy his property, he first began to seize the heritable goods while the heirs were alive, so that with the sons and daughters still standing, the righteous man might receive a fatal blow of despondency through the loss of his possessions. For the evil demon reasoned, lest, if the children perished first, he might not even become aware of the loss of his property. But the true adamant and noble athlete, struck many times and crowned through all, receiving many arrows and piercing the devil with those very arrows, armed on right and left with the weapons of righteousness, did not suffer, did not weep, did not waver; he was not bent by the loss of his possessions, nor was his piety plundered by the death of his children, but he remained like an unshaken tower, rooted and founded on the earth below, and secured up to the very vaults of the heavens. A first messenger came and said to Job: The yokes of oxen were plowing, and the captors came and captured them, and killed the servants with swords.

While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said to Job, "Fire fell from the sky and burned up your sheep, and it likewise consumed the shepherds." See what the devil does. For when he saw him standing nobly against the first and second blow, and not at all shaken from his torments, attacked but not wounded, he contrives to do something like this: He sends fire from the air, so that the fire might seem to be sent down from heaven, and so that Job, thinking that God was attacking him from the heavens, might blaspheme God, who without any sin was unjustly attacking him. "Fire," he says, "fell from the sky and devoured your sheep and the shepherds." While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said to Job, "The horsemen made three heads against us, and surrounded the camels, and took them captive, and killed the servants with swords." But even in all this, the blessed Job remained like an unshaken pillar, like an immovable tower, like an invincible athlete, unbending, unyielding, striking rather than being struck. For when someone labors in vain, fighting much and accomplishing nothing, often contending and not at all prevailing, he himself is rather the one who receives the lashes for his futile efforts. While he was still speaking, another messenger came. The war is continuous, but futile for the one who labors; the missiles are more frequent, but the prizes are more glorious. He does not allow him even for an hour to catch his breath, so that he might not, in accordance with the wrestler's innate piety, devise some wise plan.

He shot all his arrows, and did not conquer the athlete. He emptied his quiver, and was not emptied of grief. Let those who sin in vain be put to shame. Since then that one too turned away humiliated, disgraced, the one who wrestled much and was defeated through all. For he sent against shepherds, against herds, against the sheep, against the camels, against the sons, against the daughters, against the house, against the body, through friends, through servants, through worms, through wounds, through ichor. He emptied everything, and did not dissolve piety. He dug through the wall, and did not empty the treasure. The tyrant of the world moved all the swords he had, through fire, through swords, through a mound, through captivity, through blood. He stretched everything, and made the athlete even braver. On account of this indeed the prophet cried out saying, "The swords of the enemy have utterly failed." Perhaps he also says to him, "It is hard for you to kick against the goads." He took all the money, the possessions, the property. And what of the last messenger? While your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking in the house of their elder brother, suddenly a wind came from the desert, and touched the four corners of the house, and the house fell upon your children, and they died. And so that you may learn, beloved, that it was not a man who was announcing these things to Job, but it was the devil himself disguised in human form, learn with all precision:

While your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking at the home of their elder brother, suddenly a wind came from the desert and touched the four corners of the house, and the house fell upon your children, and they died. How do you know, tell me, that it came from the desert and touched the four corners of the house? You are a human, and how did you see the wind? With what eyes did you behold it? And how did the wind touch the four corners? If you are a human and were inside the house, surely the house encompassed you as well; but if you were outside, how did you see what was happening inside? And if you are a spirit, show who you are; do not disguise yourself in human form. "Your sons," he says, "and your daughters were eating and drinking at the home of their elder brother." See how full of all understanding and wisdom the blessed Job was, and how he secured the affection of his children. For he reasoned that Cain and Abel were two brothers, alone in the inhabited world, having no occasion for war; for the whole earth lay commonly before both for their use. And yet, because of the honor of Abel, Cain became envious, rose up, and killed his brother. For this reason, the blessed Job offered a sacrifice to God each day concerning uncertain matters, rising early in the morning and saying: "May it not be that my sons have conceived evil in their hearts toward God.

As for what happened among them, whether in word or in contentiousness, he made them eat together with one another each day, reflecting that even if they had some pettiness toward one another, the table and the disposition of the loaves would transform them into friendship and banish the malice that had befallen them, knowing that through the continuous table all the troubles that had befallen them were resolved. But the evil-loving devil watched for such an opportunity to destroy the children, who had done nothing wrong. At the time of midday, when all were gathered together, when they were joining in peace, then he unleashed the implacable war against them. They were cultivating friendship; he was sharpening a sword. They were building love; he was demolishing the house. And at that very hour the house became a tomb, the table a vessel of disaster, the shepherd’s fold a shipwreck, and all were prey to beasts. What then did that noble man do? He was not confounded, he did not collapse. What of his shall I praise? What speech will suffice? What labor will be adequate for such a narrative? O noble and blessed soul! O great endurance without excess! Truly, beloved, I am confounded in my soul, I am disturbed in my conscience, even as I see Job being crowned. But I am more confounded in my soul now, seeing the victor, than he was then, seeing the disaster of his children before his eyes. I am confounded in my soul; and I think you are likewise disposed. How then shall I recount such a tragedy? I do not know, even as I bear the crown of praises on my tongue.

Natural parents, when they have a son struggling with his last breaths, sit around him, listen to his final words, clasp his hands, make arrangements concerning unforeseen matters, kiss his mouth, the final kisses of fathers. Then the child has given up his soul, as the one who gave it commanded; the parents lay him out, stretch out his hands, close his eyes, straighten his head, extend his feet, wash him, clothe him in worthy burial garments, and console themselves for their own misfortune. But what is this to that noble athlete? He went into the house which at one and the same hour became both house and tomb, banquet and mound, feast and mourning. He dug around and sought the limbs of his children, and found wine and blood, bread and a hand, an eye and dust. And he would take sometimes a hand, sometimes a foot, at other times he would pull up a head with the earth, and the stones, and the timbers; and sometimes a part of the belly, at other times the entrails of the intestines mixed up with the earth. And that athlete, reaching to the heavens, sat there, seeing the torn limbs of his children. He sat there, joining limb to limb, hand to forearm, fitting head to chest, knees to thighs. For the calamity was not a single one of the events that occurred, but a catastrophe surpassing all description, arising from diabolical energy and tyranny.

Job sat there, then, the truly enduring adamant, the blessed one, sorting the limbs of his children, lest the limbs of the females be formed in the pattern of the male limbs, lest the male form be fitted together with the limbs of the female. O noble soul, surpassing even the praise of the angels. Why? Because in all these events that befell him, Job committed nothing against the Lord, but instead of all these things, he offered a complete thanksgiving as a sacrifice to God, saying: "Blessed be the name of the Lord, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.