Homilies on First Corinthians 13

We are fools for Christ's sake (for it is necessary again to take up the discourse from this point), but you are wise in Christ;

we are weak, but you are strong;

you are honored, but we are without honor.

Having filled his discourse with much weightiness—a thing which carried a blow greater than any accusation—he here handles it with the dignity that befits him; and having said that 'Without us you have reigned,' and that 'God has set us forth last, as men doomed to death,' he shows through what follows in what way they are doomed to death, saying:

We are fools and weak and without honor, and we hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no fixed abode, and toil, working with our own hands;

which things were the marks of genuine teachers and apostles.

But those men prided themselves on the opposite things—on wisdom, on glory, on wealth, on being honored.

Wishing therefore to pull down their conceit, and to show that in these things one ought not only not to preen oneself, but even to be ashamed, he first holds them up to ridicule, saying:

For I indeed say, he means, that the present time is not one of honor nor of glory, of which you are enjoying your fill, but of being persecuted and outraged—the very things which we suffer.

But if it is not so, but this is rather the season of recompense, as I see (this he says ironically), then you the disciples have moreover already reigned;

while we the teachers and apostles, who above all ought to receive the reward, have not only become last of you, but even as men doomed to death—that is, condemned criminals—pass our whole life in dishonor and dangers and famine, being outraged as fools and driven about and enduring things past remedy.

And he said these things in order that from them too he might make them perceive that they ought to emulate the things of the apostles—the dangers and the outrages, not the honors and the glories;

for it is not those things, but these, that the preaching requires.

But he does not say this outright, so as not to appear burdensome to them;

rather, as was fitting for him, he thus handles this rebuke.

For if he had brought in the discourse outright, he would have spoken thus:

You are led astray and deceived, and stand far off from the apostolic admonition;

for the apostle and minister of Christ ought to seem a fool, and to pass his life in affliction and in dishonor, which is what we are;

but you are in the opposite condition.

But in that way what was said would rather have stood by them as containing praises of the apostles, and would have made them the bolder, as being reproached for sloth and vainglory and luxury.

For this reason he does not treat what he has said in this manner, but in another—more pointed indeed, yet less offensive.

Wherefore he thus advances his discourse by way of irony, saying:

But you are strong and honored.

So that, had he not used irony, he would have spoken thus:

It is not possible for the one to be reckoned a fool and the other prudent, and the one strong and the other weak, since the preaching does not exempt either party from these things.

For if it were permitted that some should be this, and others that, perhaps what is said by you would have some reason;

but as it is, it is not possible to seem prudent, nor honored, nor to be released from dangers.

Otherwise, you must have been preferred to us before God—you the disciples, before the teachers and those who have suffered ten thousand things.

But if no one would say even this, it remains that our lot is to persecute you.

And let no one, he says, suppose that the things...

For even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked.

Do you see that the whole life of Christians must be of this sort, and not for one day or two? For neither is an athlete crowned after prevailing in a single bout only; but should he fall afterward, he is crowned again.

'And we hunger,' set over against those who live in luxury;

'and we are buffeted,' set over against those who are puffed up;

'and we have no certain dwelling,' set over against those who take their ease;

'and we are naked,' set over against those who are rich;

'and we toil,' now set over against those false apostles who endure neither to labor nor to face danger, but batten upon the disciples themselves.

'But we are not so,' he says; rather, besides the dangers from without, we also wear ourselves down with unceasing labor.

And what is yet greater: that no one could say we are vexed at these things, or that we bring charges against those who persecute us;

for we requite those who insult us with the very opposite.

For this is the great thing: not to suffer evil,

but, while suffering, neither to be distressed nor to be vexed.

But we not only are not vexed, but even rejoice.

And the proof of this is that we requite with the contrary those who do us evil.

And that they did indeed do this, hear what follows:

'Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being defamed, we entreat;

we are made as the filth of the world' — that is, fools for Christ's sake.

For he who suffers evil, and neither defends himself nor grieves, seems to those without to be a fool, and dishonored, and weak.

And that he might not make his discourse too burdensome, having set the sufferings within the compass of the whole world rather than of their own city, what does he say? 'We are made the filth,' not of your city, but of the world;

and again, 'the offscouring of all things;'

not of you only, but of all.

So then, just as when he discourses concerning Christ's tender care, he passes over the earth, the heaven, all creation, and sets the cross in the midst;

even so, when he wishes to draw them to himself, passing by the miracles, he speaks of the sufferings he endured for their sake.

So too it is our custom, when we are wronged by any and despised, to bring forward into the midst those very things which we have suffered on their behalf.

A vigorous blow he dealt them toward the close.

'Of all,' he says, not of the persecutors, but of those for whose sake we suffer these things;

that is to say, 'I owe them much thanks.'

It is the word of one deeply grieved — not that he himself is pained, but that he wishes to strike them.

For he who has countless grounds for complaint yet salutes them affectionately.

For this reason Christ also bids us bear insults meekly, that we ourselves may practice this heavenly wisdom, and that we may the more put them to shame.

For one accomplishes this not so much by reviling as by keeping silence.

Then, since he saw that the blow was unbearable, he swiftly healed it, saying:

'I write not these things to shame you, but as my beloved children I admonish you.'

'For I say these things not as putting you to shame,' he says.

That which he had done by his words, this he says he had not done;

or rather, he says that he had indeed done it, yet not out of an evil and hateful intent;

since this is indeed the best remedy: after speaking the word, to add the defense drawn from one's intention.

For not to have spoken at all was impossible, since they would have remained uncorrected;

yet having spoken, to leave the wound again incurable would have been grievous;

wherefore he makes his defense with gravity.

For this not only does not take away the incision, but even causes it to sink deeper within, soothing all the anguish of the wound.

For he who hears that these things are said not to reproach but out of love, the more readily accepts the correction.

And here too there is much gravity and much power to shame.

For he said not, 'as a teacher,' nor 'as an apostle,' nor 'as one having disciples' — which would have been according to his dignity — but, 'as my beloved children I admonish you;'

and not simply children, but dearly longed-for children.

And if anything burdensome has been spoken, it comes of love.

And he said not, 'I rebuke,' but, 'I admonish.'

And who would not bear with a father who is pained, and who counsels what is fitting? For this reason he said not this before, but only when he had dealt the blow.

'What then? Do the other teachers not spare us?' one might say. I do not say that, but that they do not spare you in the same way.

But this he did not say in so many words directly, but by his conduct

and by the names he made it plain, setting the tutor over against the father.

'For though,' he says, 'you may have many tutors in Christ, yet you have not many fathers.'

He does not here set forth the dignity, but the surpassing greatness of his love.

And he did not even strike those others, when he added 'in Christ,' but even comforted them, calling those who labor earnestly and endure the toils not flatterers, but tutors;

and he displayed his own tender care.

Therefore he said not, 'But not many teachers,' but, 'not many fathers.'

Thus he did not wish to establish a rank, nor to teach that they had received greater benefit from him;

but, conceding to those others that they had labored much for them (for such is the tutor), he reserves to himself the surpassing greatness of love.

And he does not merely say that 'No one loves you thus,' which would have been beyond examination, but he brings a fact accomplished into the midst.

And what sort of thing is this? 'For in Christ Jesus, through the Gospel, I begot you.'

'I do not,' he says, 'reckon this to myself.'

Again he strikes those who fasten the teaching upon themselves.

'For you,' he says, 'are the seal of my apostleship;'

and here, 'I begot you.'

He said not, 'I preached the word,' but, 'I begot you,' making use of the terms of nature.

For one thing he was earnest to display: the love which he had toward them.

'For those others, having received from me, brought you in;

but that you became believers came about through me.'

For since he had said, 'as children,' lest you should think the word to be flattery, he presents the fact as well.

'I beseech you therefore, be imitators of me, even as I also am of Christ.'

How great is the teacher's boldness of speech!

How exact is the image, when he even summons others to this very thing!

Yet he does this not to exalt himself, but to show that virtue is an easy thing.

For do not say to me, 'I cannot imitate you;

you are a teacher, and a great one.'

For the distance between me and you is not so great as that between Christ and me;

and yet I imitated Him.

So then, when he writes to the Ephesians, he does not set himself in the middle, but leads them all straightway there, saying, 'Be imitators of God';

but here, since his word was addressed to the weak, he interposed himself.

And in another way too he shows that it is possible even thus to imitate Christ.

For he who imitates the exact impression of the seal has imitated the original pattern.

Let us then see how he himself imitated Christ.

For this imitation needs no lengths of time nor art, but resolve alone.

For if we go in to a painter, we shall not be able to imitate the picture, even though we look at it ten thousand times;

but this man one may imitate from hearing alone.

Will you then that we bring the tablet into the midst, and sketch out before you the manner of life of Paul? Let the tablet then be set forth, being far more brilliant than the royal portraits.

For the material underlying it is neither boards glued together nor linen stretched over it, but the work of God is the material underlying it;

the soul is the work of God, not of men, and the body likewise. Did you applaud here? But this is not the time for applause; rather, applaud and be zealous over what follows.

For meanwhile the material lies common to all.

For soul differs nothing from soul, in so far as it is soul, but the resolve reveals the difference.

For just as body differs nothing from body, in so far as it is body, but both Paul's and the common man's are alike, yet the dangers make the one more resplendent than the other;

let the tablet then lie before us: the soul of Paul.

This tablet lay formerly covered with soot, full of cobwebs;

for nothing is worse than blasphemy.

But when He came who transforms all things, and saw that it had been thus defaced not through sloth and stupidity, but through inexperience and the lack of the flowers of piety (for zeal indeed he had, but the colors were not present;

for he had zeal, but not according to knowledge)—

He gives him the flower of truth, that is, grace;

and all at once He rendered the image royal.

For having received the colors, and having learned what he did not know, he waited no time,

but straightway appeared a most excellent artist.

And first he shows the head to be royal, by proclaiming Christ;

then the rest of the body also, that of the exact manner of life. Now painters, shutting themselves up, do everything with much exactness and quiet, opening the doors to no one;

but this man, setting his tablet forth in the midst of the world, with all men opposing, making an uproar, throwing all into confusion, thus wrought this royal image, and was not hindered.

'We are made a spectacle to the world,' painting the image in the midst of earth and sea, and heaven and all the inhabited world, and the world both perceptible and intelligible.

Will you see the remaining parts of this image also, those below the head? Or will you that we carry the discourse upward from below? Behold then a golden statue—nay rather, one more precious even than gold, and such as it were fitting to stand in heaven, not fastened with lead nor set in one place, but running from Jerusalem as far as Illyricum, and departing into Spain, and everywhere throughout the inhabited world borne along as though on wings.

For what could be more beautiful than these feet, which traversed all the earth that lies beneath the sun? This beauty the prophet too proclaims of old, saying,

'How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace!'

Have you seen how beautiful the feet are? Do you wish to see the breast also? Come, I will show you this too, and you shall see it far more brilliant than these beautiful feet, and than the very breast of the ancient lawgiver.

For Moses bore tablets of stone;

but this man had Christ Himself within, he bore the very royal image and that of the mercy-seat;

wherefore he was more venerable even than the Cherubim.

For not such a voice was borne thence as hence, but from there the utterances were for the most part concerning things perceptible, whereas from the tongue of Paul concerning matters above the heavens;

and from the mercy-seat He gave oracles to the Jews alone, but from here to the whole inhabited world;

and there through lifeless things, but here through a virtuous soul.

This mercy-seat was more brilliant even than heaven, being illumined not by the variety of the stars nor by the sun's rays, but having the very Sun of righteousness sending forth His rays from thence.

And this heaven a cloud running beneath it at times makes more gloomy, but that breast no such storm ever overran;

or rather, many storms often did overrun it, yet they did not darken the light, but in the midst of temptation and dangers this light shone forth.

Wherefore he too, wearing a chain about him, cried aloud,

'The word of God is not bound.'

Thus he ever sent forth rays through that tongue;

and neither fear nor danger made that breast gloomy.

Perhaps the breast seems to outstrip the feet;

yet both those are beautiful as feet, and this as a breast.

Will you see the belly also as beautiful? Hear what he says concerning it:

'If food causes my brother to stumble, I will eat no flesh forever.'

'It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak.'

'Foods for the belly, and the belly for foods.'

What could be more beautiful than this belly, so trained to be still, and taught all self-control, and knowing both to hunger and to famish and to thirst? For just as a well-ordered horse takes a golden bridle, so also did this belly walk in measured steps, having conquered the necessity of nature;

for Christ walked in it.

And this being so temperate, it is evident that all the rest of vice too was dissolved.

Will you see the hands also as they now are? Or will you first behold their former wickedness? This man, entering into the houses, formerly dragged off both men and women, having not the hands of a man, but of some savage beast.

But when he received the colors of truth and spiritual experience, these hands were no longer a man's, but spiritual, bound each day with chains;

and they never struck anyone, but were struck ten thousand times.

A viper once reverenced these hands;

for they were no longer a man's hands;

therefore it did not even lay hold of them.

Will you see the back also, resembling the other members? Hear what he says concerning it too:

'Five times I received from the Jews forty stripes save one, thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have spent in the deep.'

But lest we too, falling into a boundless deep, be carried far about in going over each of his members, come, let us withdraw from the body and behold another beauty, that which comes from the garments, which even the demons reverenced;

wherefore they too fled, and diseases took to flight.

And wherever Paul appeared, everything gave way and withdrew, as though the champion of the whole world had arrived.

And just as those who have received many wounds in battle shudder even at the sight of the weapon of the one who struck them,

so too the demons, merely at the sight of his handkerchiefs, were driven out.

Where now are they that are rich, and are proud over their money? Where are they that reckon up their dignities and their costly garments? Setting themselves beside these things, they shall see that all their possessions are but mire and filth.

And why do I speak of garments and gold? For if someone were to grant me to rule over the whole world, I would deem Paul's mere fingernail mightier than all that kingdom; his poverty stronger than all luxury, his obscurity than all glory, his nakedness than all riches, the buffeting of that sacred head than all security, and the stones which he received than every diadem.

Let us long, beloved, for this crown;

and even if there be no persecution, let us in the meantime prepare ourselves.

For not from persecutions alone was this man illustrious;

this too can be achieved even apart from persecution.

For he exhorted us to make no provision for the flesh, to fulfil its lusts;

and again, 'Having food and covering, with these we shall be content.'

For unto these things there is no need of persecutions.

And the well-to-do also he brought to sober mind, saying:

'They that desire to be rich fall into temptation.'

If, then, we too discipline ourselves in this manner, on entering the contest we shall be crowned, and even in the absence of persecution we shall receive many prizes on their account;

but if we pamper the body and live the life of swine, then even in time of peace we shall commit many sins and bring shame upon ourselves.

Do you not see against whom our wrestling is? Against the incorporeal powers.

How then, being flesh, shall we prevail over these? For if one who wrestles against men needs to feast temperately, much more one who wrestles against demons.

But when, along with an excess of flesh, we are also bound fast to wealth, whence shall we overcome our adversaries? For wealth is a bond, a grievous bond to those who know not how to use it, a savage and inhuman tyrant, commanding all things to the ruin of those who serve it.

But if we will, we shall overthrow this bitter tyranny from its throne, and make it yield to us and not command us.

How then shall this come to pass? When we distribute our wealth among all.

For so long as it is alone with a solitary man, like some robber in a desert place, it works all manner of evils;

but when we bring it into the midst, it will no longer have mastery over us, since all men on every side bind it fast.

And I say this, not because money is a sin;

but not to distribute it to the poor is a sin, and to use it wickedly.

For God made nothing evil, but all things exceedingly good;

so that money too is good, provided it does not master its possessors, provided it relieves the poverty of one's neighbours.

For neither is that light good which does not dispel the darkness but rather intensifies it; nor would I call that wealth which does not relieve poverty but increases poverty.

For the rich man seeks not to receive from others, but to succour others;

but he that seeks to receive from others is no longer rich, but is himself the poor man.

So that money is not the evil, but the poverty-stricken mind, which drives wealth into poverty.

These men are more wretched than those who beg through the narrow streets, than those who are maimed and have their bodies mutilated, than those clothed in rags—I mean those in silken and splendid garments;

those who strut about in the market-place are more wretched than those who walk along the lanes and enter the courtyards and cry out from below.

For these last praise God in song, and utter words of mercy and of much wisdom;

wherefore we also pity them, and stretch out a hand, and never reproach them.

But those who are wickedly rich belch forth words of cruelty and inhumanity, of rapacity and satanic desire;

wherefore also they are hateful and ridiculous in the eyes of all.

Consider then, what seems shameful in the eyes of all men—to beg from the rich, or to beg from the destitute? It is plain to everyone that it is to beg from the destitute.

Now this is precisely what the rich do;

for they would not dare to approach those richer than themselves.

But the beggars beg from the well-to-do;

for the beggar will not ask of the beggar, but of the well-to-do;

but the rich man tears the poor man to pieces.

Again tell me, which is the more honourable: to receive from those who give willingly and with gratitude, or to force and molest those who are unwilling? It is quite clear: not to trouble those who are unwilling.

But this too is what the rich do.

For the poor receive from those who give willingly and with gratitude, but the rich take from the unwilling and the reluctant, which is a proof of greater poverty.

For if one would not even choose to go out to a banquet, unless the one inviting were grateful to the one invited, how can it be honourable to take money under compulsion? Do we not for this very reason turn away from the dogs and flee those that bark—because by their persistent importunity they force us? This too is what the rich do.

But surely to add fear to the giving is more honourable.

This indeed is the most shameful of all;

for he who moves every stone in order to get, of whom would he not be more ridiculous? For indeed, often out of fear of the dogs, we have flung away the very things we were holding.

Again tell me, which is the more shameful: to beg clothed in rags, or to beg wearing silks? For when a rich man courts poor old men in order to obtain their goods—and that when they have children—of what pardon shall he be worthy? But if you please, let us examine the very words themselves: what the rich say when they beg, and what the poor say.

What then does the poor man say? That he who gives alms shall never come to want, that he gives from what is God's, that God is loving toward mankind and gives back in greater measure;

and all these are words of wisdom, of exhortation, and of counsel.

For he bids you look toward the Master, and takes away your fear of coming poverty;

and one might see much instruction in the words of those who beg.

But of what sort are the words of the rich? Of swine and dogs and wolves and the other beasts.

For some of them talk continually of tables and dishes and rich sauces and wine of every kind and perfumes and garments and the rest of their profligacy;

and others talk of interest and loans, forging bonds and suspending an intolerable weight of debts, and, as though they had received a domain inherited from fathers or grandfathers, they strip one man of his house, another of his field, another of his slave, and of all his possessions.

What should one say of the wills written in blood instead of ink? For either by surrounding men with intolerable danger, or by bewitching with certain paltry promises those whom they see possessing some little property, they persuade them to pass over all their kinsmen—even such as are often perishing of poverty—and to enrol themselves in their stead.

What manner of beasts, then, do these things not conceal in their madness and savagery? Wherefore, I beseech you, let us flee all such wealth, the shameful wealth that is full of murders;

and let us acquire the spiritual wealth, and seek after the treasures in the heavens.

For they that possess these are the rich ones, they are the well-to-do, enjoying all things both here and there.

For he who is willing to be poor according to the word of God has the houses of all men opened to him.

For to him that possesses nothing for God's sake, everyone would contribute his own goods;

but he that wishes to hold even a little unjustly has shut against himself the doors of all.

In order, therefore, that we may attain to the good things both here and there, let us choose the wealth that cannot be moved, the imperishable abundance;

may we attain this by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, and so on.