Homilies on First Corinthians 22

'Do you not know that they who work the sacred things eat of the things of the temple, and they who wait upon the altar have their portion with the altar? Even so also the Lord ordained that they who proclaim the gospel should live of the gospel.'

He makes great effort to show that the receiving is not forbidden.

Having spoken before, he was not content, but proceeds even to the law, furnishing a more fitting example than the former one.

For it was not the same thing to bring the oxen into the midst, and to bring into the midst a law expressly laid down concerning priests.

And observe, I pray you, in this also the discernment of Paul, how he mentions the matter with great dignity.

For he did not say, 'They who work the sacred things receive from those who offer;'

but what? 'They eat of the things of the temple;'

that neither the receivers might be reproached, nor those who give might be lifted up.

Wherefore also he has set down what follows in the same way.

For neither here did he say, 'They who wait upon the altar receive from those who sacrifice,' but, 'They have their portion with the altar.'

For the things offered were no longer thenceforth the property of those who offered them, but of the temple and of the altar.

And he did not say that 'they receive the sacred things,' but, 'They eat of the things of the temple,' showing again the due measure, and that one ought neither to make gain nor to grow rich.

And if he says that 'They have their portion with the altar,' he does not mean an equal division, but the consolation given them out of what is due.

And yet the things of the apostles were far greater.

For there the priesthood was an honor;

but here there were dangers and slaughterings and murders.

Wherefore it was far greater than all the other examples to say:

'If we sowed unto you spiritual things.'

For when he says, 'We sowed,' he indicates the storms and the dangers, and the plots and the unspeakable evils which they endured while preaching.

Yet nevertheless, though the superiority was so great, he was unwilling either to lower the things of the Old Covenant or to exalt his own;

but he even lowers his own, giving the superiority not from the dangers, but from the greatness of the gift.

For he did not say, 'If we ran into danger or were plotted against,' but, 'If we sowed unto you spiritual things.'

And he exalts the ministry of the priests as much as possible, saying:

'They that work about holy things, and they that wait at the altar' — wishing through these words to show forth their continual servitude and their perseverance.

And in speaking of the priests among the Jews, both the Levites and the high priests, he pointed to both orders, both the lower and the more eminent:

the one by saying, 'They that work about holy things,' and the other by saying, 'They that wait at the altar.'

For not all of them had one and the same appointed task;

but some had been entrusted with the coarser duties, and others with the higher.

Having therefore embraced all these, lest anyone should say, 'Why do you remind us of the Old Testament? Do you not know that ours is the season of more perfect commandments?' — after all these things he set down that which is mightiest of all, saying:

'Even so did the Lord ordain that they which proclaim the gospel should live of the gospel.'

And not even here does he say they are to be fed 'of men,' but just as in the case of the priests, 'Of the temple' and 'Of the altar,' so also here he says, 'Of the gospel.'

And just as there he said 'to eat,' so here 'to live' — not to make merchandise nor to lay up treasure.

'For the laborer,' he says, 'is worthy of his hire.'

'But I have used none of these things.'

'What then?' one might say. 'Though you have not used them now, do you wish to use them in time to come, and is that why you say these things? Away with the thought!'

For it was on this very account that he swiftly employed a correction, speaking thus:

'But I have written none of these things, that it should be so done unto me.'

And behold with what vehemence he denies and thrusts away the matter:

'For it were good for me rather to die, than that any man should make my glorying void.'

And not once, nor twice, but many times has he made use of this saying;

for above he said, 'We did not use this power;'

and after that again, 'That I abuse not my power;'

and here, 'But I have used none of these things.'

'Of these' — of what? Of the many examples.

'For though many things gave me the right — the soldier, the husbandman, the shepherd, the apostles, the law, the things done by us toward you, the things done by you toward others, the priests, the ordinance of Christ — by none of these was I persuaded to abolish my own law and to take.'

'And do not tell me of things past;'

and yet I am able to say that in many instances even in the

things that are past I endured much for this cause;

yet nevertheless I do not rely on those alone, but concerning the things to come as well I make my promise: that I choose rather to die of hunger than to be deprived of these crowns.

'For it were good for me rather to die,' he says, 'than that any man should make my glorying void.'

He did not say, 'than that any man should abolish my law,' but 'my glorying.'

For lest anyone should say that he indeed does it, but not with joy, rather groaning and grieving, wishing to display the exceeding measure of his joy and the abundance of his eagerness, he even calls the matter a 'glorying.'

So far was he from grieving, that he even glories in it and chooses rather to die than to fall away from this glorying.

Thus this thing was to him sweeter even than life.

Then from another quarter also he exalts it, and shows it to be great — not that he might set himself forth as illustrious;

for he was far removed from that passion;

but that he might show that he rejoices, and might remove the suspicion out of abundance.

For on this account, as I said before, he also called it a 'glorying.'

And what does he say? 'For if I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of;'

'for necessity is laid upon me;'

'yea, woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel!'

'For if I do this willingly, I have a reward;'

'but if unwillingly, a stewardship has been entrusted to me.'

'What then is my reward? That, when I preach the gospel, I may make the gospel of Christ without charge, that I abuse not my power in the gospel.'

'What do you say, tell me? If you preach the gospel, you have nothing to glory of, but only if you make the gospel without charge? Then is this greater than that?' By no means;

but in another respect it has something more:

namely, that the one is a command, but the other is an achievement of my own free choice.

For the things that are done beyond the commandment have, in this respect, much reward;

but the things that are within the rank of a commandment, not so much.

So that in this respect he says this is more than that — not according to the very nature of the thing.

For what is equal to preaching? For this makes one even vie with the very angels;

but nevertheless, since the one is a command and a debt, while the other is the generous ambition of free choice, in this respect the latter is more than the former.

Wherefore he says, interpreting the very thing that I have just now said:

'For if I do this willingly, I have a reward;'

'but if unwillingly, a stewardship has been entrusted to me;'

taking the 'willingly' and 'unwillingly' with reference to being entrusted and not being entrusted with the office.

So also the words, 'For necessity is laid upon me,' must be understood — not as though he did any of these things unwillingly (God forbid!),

but as being accountable for the things enjoined upon him, and in contrast to the freedom spoken of in the matter of receiving.

Wherefore also Christ said to His disciples:

'When you shall have done all things, say, We are unprofitable servants;'

'for we have done that which was our duty to do.'

'What then is my reward? That, when I preach the gospel, I may make the gospel without charge.'

'What then,' tell me, 'has Peter no reward? And who could ever have so great a reward as he? And what of the rest of the apostles?' How then did he say, 'If I do this willingly, I have a reward;'

'but if unwillingly, a stewardship has been entrusted to me'? Do you see here also his discernment? For he did not say, 'But if unwillingly, I have no reward,' but, 'A stewardship has been entrusted to me;'

showing that even so he has a reward, but such as belongs to one who has accomplished what was enjoined, not such as belongs to that other who, out of his own resources, has been generous and gone beyond the command.

'What then is my reward? That, when I preach the gospel,' he says, 'I may make the gospel without charge, that I abuse not my power in the gospel.'

Do you see how throughout he makes use of the word 'power,' showing what I have repeatedly said — that not even those who receive are worthy of blame? And he added, 'In the gospel,' at once indicating the gospel, and at once forbidding the practice to be carried everywhere.

For it is the one who teaches that ought to receive, and not simply the one who is idle.

'For though I was free from all men, I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more.'

Here again he sets down another surpassing point.

For great indeed was even the not receiving;

but this which he is about to say is far greater than that.

But what is it that he says? 'Not only did I not take,' he says, 'nor merely did I refrain from using this authority, but I even enslaved myself'—and to a slavery manifold and of every kind.

For it was not in money only, but in what was far greater than money, in many and

manifold matters that I displayed this very thing;

and I enslaved myself, though subject to no one in any respect, nor under any compulsion;

for this is what it means, 'Being free from all men.'

And I became a slave not to one only, but to the whole inhabited world;

wherefore also he added, 'I enslaved myself to all.'

For indeed I was commanded to preach and to proclaim the things entrusted to me;

but to devise countless means and to contrive them, this belonged besides to my own zeal.

For I was accountable only to lay down the money;

yet I did everything to demand it back again as well, undertaking more than what was enjoined upon me.

For since it was by deliberate choice and eagerness and love toward Christ that he did all things, he had an insatiable longing for the salvation of men.

Therefore also, out of the great abundance of his zeal, he overleaped the boundaries, in all things bounding even beyond heaven itself.

And having spoken of the servitude, he next tells the manifold modes of it.

And what are these? 'And I became,' he says, 'to the Jews as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews.'

And how did this come about? When he circumcised, that he might abolish circumcision.

For this reason he did not say 'a Jew,' but 'as a Jew,' which was a matter of dispensation.

What do you say? The herald of the world, who touched the very heavens, and shone so brightly in grace—does this man of a sudden descend so far? Yes;

for do not look at this only, that he descends, but that he also raises up him who lies below and leads him up to himself.

'To those under the law, as under the law, though not being myself under the law, that I might gain those under the law.'

Either this is a further explanation of the former statement, or it hints at something other than the former;

by 'Jews' meaning those who were such from above and from the beginning;

and by 'those under the law,' the proselytes, or those who had become believers and yet still clung to the law.

For these were no longer 'as Jews,' but 'under the law.'

And when did he become under the law? When he shaved his head, when he offered sacrifice.

But these things he did, not because his mind was changed—since the matter was an evil thing—

but because his love condescended.

For that he might transfer to these things those who truly held them, he himself became such, not truly, but only in outward show—not really being so, nor doing these things from a mind that was so disposed.

For how could he be, who was eager to remove others also from these things, and for this very reason was doing them,

that he might set free from that lowliness others who were practising them? 'To those without law, as without law.'

These were neither Jews, nor Christians, nor Greeks, but were outside the law, such as was Cornelius, and any who were like him.

For indeed, when he went in among those, he adopted many of their ways.

And some say that he is here hinting at the discourse which he held toward the Athenians from the inscription upon the altar, and that he means, 'To those without law, as without law.'

Then, lest anyone should suppose the matter to be a change of mind, he added:

'Not being without law toward God, but under the law toward Christ.'

That is to say: Not only am I not without law, but neither am I simply under the law, but I hold a law far higher than the older one—that is, the law of the Spirit and of grace.

Then, having made them confident concerning his mind, he again sets down the gain of such condescension, saying:

And everywhere he puts forward the reason for the condescension;

and he did not even stop at these, but says, 'And to the weak I became as weak, that I might gain the weak.'

This last he mentions as being their case, for whose sake also all these things have been spoken.

And yet those former things were far greater, but this was more pertinent;

wherefore also he set it down last.

And he did this same thing among the Romans also, when he brought a charge concerning meats, and in many other places.

Then, that he might not spend time by telling all things one by one, he says:

'To all men I have become all things, that I might by all means save some.'

Do you see the exceeding measure? 'To all I have become all things,' yet not expecting to save all, he says, but that I might save even a few.

And I endured such zeal and service as befitted one who was to save all, though not indeed hoping to prevail over all;

which was a very great thing, and the mark of a fervent eagerness.

Since the sower also sowed everywhere, and did not save all the seed, yet nevertheless he did his own part.

And having spoken of the fewness of those who are saved, again by adding 'by all means'

he consoled those who grieved on their account.

For even though it is not possible that all the seed be saved, yet nevertheless it is also impossible that all should perish.

For this reason he said 'by all means,' because it is altogether necessary that one who is thus fervently zealous should also attain his end.

'And I do all things for the gospel's sake, that I might be a fellow-partaker of it'—that is, that I too may seem to have contributed something of my own, and may share in the crowns laid up for the faithful.

For as he said, 'to live of the gospel,' that is, of those who believe, so also here, 'that I may be a fellow-partaker of the gospel,' that I may be able to share with those who have believed through the gospel.

Do you see his humility—how in the requital of rewards he sets himself as one among the many, though he had surpassed all in his labours? Whence it is plain that he did so in the prizes also.

Yet nevertheless he does not claim to enjoy the first place, but is content if he may share along with the rest in the crowns laid up.

And these things he said, not because he did them for any reward, but that from this also he might draw those men on, and by these hopes persuade them to do all things for the brethren's sake.

Do you see his understanding? Do you see the surpassing exactness—how he did more than what was enjoined, not taking, though it was lawful to take? Do you see the excess of condescension—how he who was under the law of Christ and kept the highest law was to those without law as without law, to the Jews as a Jew, appearing consummate in both and vanquishing all? This do you also, and think not that you fall down when you stand at the summit, if for your brother's sake you endure any of the lowly things;

for this is not to fall down, but to come down.

For he that has fallen lies prostrate, hardly rising again;

but he that has come down will also ascend again with much gain;

even as Paul also went down alone, but came up with the whole inhabited world, and that not by dissembling;

for he would not have sought the gain of those who are saved, if indeed he had been dissembling.

For the hypocrite seeks destruction, and dissembles in order to take, not in order to give;

but as a physician, as a teacher, as a father—the one to the sick man, the other to the disciple, the other to the child—condescends unto correction, not unto harm.

For that the things spoken were not dissembling, hear him speaking, when he is compelled to do or say no such thing, but wishes to show his disposition and his boldness:

'Neither life nor death, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other creation, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

Do you see a love hotter than fire? So let us also love Christ;

for indeed it is easy, if we are willing.

For neither was that man such by nature.

This is precisely why his former deeds also were recorded, deeds contrary to these, that we might learn that the matter rests upon our own free choice, and that to those who are willing all things are easy.

Let us not then despair; but even if you be a reviler, even if a covetous man, even if anything whatsoever, consider that Paul was a blasphemer and a persecutor and an insolent man, and the first among sinners, and yet on a sudden he mounted to the very summit of virtue, and his former deeds proved no hindrance to him.

And indeed no one is possessed by wickedness with so great a madness as that with which he was possessed in his war against the Church.

For he gave up his very soul at that time, and it grieved him that he had not ten thousand hands, that with all of them he might cast stones at Stephen.

Yet even so he found a way to strike him with more hands, namely with those of the false witnesses, whose garments he was keeping.

And whenever he entered into the houses, he leaped in like a wild beast, dragging and tearing men and women, filling all things with tumult and confusion and countless conflicts.

So terrible then was he, that even the apostles, after his excellent conversion, dared not yet to associate themselves with him.

But nevertheless, after all those things, he became such a man as he became;

for there is no need to say anything more.

Where then are those who set up the necessity of fate as a rampart against the freedom of the will? Let them hear these things and be silenced.

For to the man who wills to become good there is nothing

that can hinder him, even though he stand foremost among the most wicked.

For indeed we are the more fitted for this, inasmuch as virtue is according to our nature, and wickedness contrary to nature, just as are health and sickness.

For God gave us eyes, not that we might look with unbridled lust, but that, marveling at His creatures, we might worship their Maker.

And that this is the use of the eyes is plain from the things that are seen.

For the beauty of the sun and of the heaven we behold from an infinite distance;

but the comeliness of a woman no one could discern from so great a space.

You see that the eye was given to us rather for that purpose? Again, He made hearing, not that we might receive blasphemous words, but saving doctrines.

For this reason, whenever the soul receives something discordant, both it and the body itself grow numb.

For 'the talk of a much-swearing man will make the hair stand on end,' it says.

And if we hear anything cruel or harsh, again we shudder;

but if anything harmonious and kindly, we are gladdened and rejoice.

And our mouth too, when it utters shameful things, makes us ashamed and cover our faces;

but if it speak honorable things, it utters them with all boldness and freedom.

Now of things according to nature no one would be ashamed, but of things contrary to nature.

And hands, when they seize by plunder, hide themselves and seek excuses;

but if they give alms, they even take pride in it.

So that, if we will, we have on every side a strong inclination toward virtue.

But if you speak to me of the pleasure that comes from wickedness, consider that even this we reap more abundantly from virtue.

For to have a good conscience, and to be admired by all, and to await good hopes, is sweeter than all things to him who has examined the nature of pleasure;

just as, on the contrary, the opposite things are more painful than all to him who knows the nature of grief, such as to be reproached by all, to be accused from within one's own household, to tremble and to be in dread both of things to come and of things present.

And that what I say may become clearer, let us suppose in our discourse a man having another's wife, undermining his neighbor's marriage, and taking delight in this wicked theft, enjoying his beloved;

then let us set over against this man another again, one who cherishes his own wife;

and, that the victory may be greater and more manifest, let this man who enjoys his own wife alone even be in love with that adulteress too, yet let him master his passion and do nothing wicked;

and yet this is not even pure self-control;

nevertheless, out of superabundance, that you may learn how great is the pleasure of virtue, for this reason we have thus framed the drama.

Having then set them together, let us thus ask them both, whose life is the sweeter;

and you will hear the one exulting and leaping for joy over his victory against desire;

or rather, one need not even wait to learn anything from him;

for you will see the other, though he deny it ten thousand times, more wretched than prisoners in chains.

For he fears and suspects everyone, his own wife and the husband of the adulteress, and the adulteress herself, and household members and friends and kinsfolk, and walls and shadows and himself, and, what is hardest of all, he has his conscience crying out against him, baying at him every single day.

And if he but call to mind the judgment-seat of God, he will not even be able to stand.

And the pleasure is brief, but the pain that springs from it is unceasing.

For both at evening and at night, both in the wilderness and in the city, and everywhere the accuser follows him, showing a sharpened sword, and the intolerable punishments, and consuming and wasting him away with fear.

But that self-controlled man is delivered from all these things, and is in freedom, and with a clear conscience looks upon his own wife, his children, his friends, and meets them all with eyes that are free.

But if he who loves, yet masters himself, enjoys so great a pleasure, how much sweeter and more tranquil a soul will he acquire who does not even love, but is purely chaste? What harbor, what calm will not be inferior to it? For this reason you would see the adulterers but few, and the chaste more many.

For if the former were the sweeter, the many would have chosen it.

And do not tell me of the fear that comes from the laws;

for it is not this that restrains them, but the excess of the absurdity, and that the painful things outnumber the pleasant, and the reproach of conscience.

Such then is the adulterer.

But if you will, let us bring the covetous man also into the midst, laying bare yet another lawless love.

For him too we shall see fearing the same things, and unable to enjoy a pure pleasure.

For calling to mind those whom he has wronged, and those who suffer along with them, and the common verdict of all against him, he has ten thousand waves within.

And this is not the only grievous thing, but he is not even able to enjoy his beloved.

For such is the manner of the money-lovers:

they possess, not that they may enjoy, but that they may not enjoy.

But if this seem to you a riddle, hear what is yet worse and more perplexing than this:

that they are deprived of the pleasure of their possessions not only in this, that they dare not use them as they wish, but also in that they are never satisfied with them, but are perpetually in thirst;

than which what could be more grievous? But the righteous man is not such;

nay, he is delivered from trembling and hatred, and from fear and from this incurable thirst;

and just as all men curse the former, so all pray together for this one;

and just as that man has gained no friend, so this one has gained no enemy.

What then, these things being thus agreed, could be more distasteful than wickedness, or sweeter than virtue? Or rather, though we say ten thousand things, no one will be able to set forth in words either the grief of the one or the pleasure of the other, until we have had the experience of it.

For then shall we find wickedness more bitter than gall, when we have tasted the honey of virtue.

For even now it is unpleasant and burdensome and oppressive, and against this not even they themselves who serve it will speak in contradiction;

but when we have withdrawn from it, then we perceive more accurately its bitter injunctions.

And if the many run to it, this is nothing wonderful;

since children too, oftentimes choosing the less pleasant things, despise those which delight them more;

and the sick, for the sake of a momentary gratification, have destroyed their lasting and more secure enjoyment.

But this belongs to the weakness and folly of those who are in love, not to the nature of things themselves.

For he who lives with true pleasure is the virtuous man, the one who is truly rich and truly free.

But if anyone should concede to virtue all the other things—freedom, security, deliverance from cares, fearing no one, suspecting no one—yet refuse to grant it pleasure as well, then an abundant occasion for laughter comes over me at this point.

For what else is pleasure but to be released from care and fear and despondency, and to be unconquerable by all things? For tell me, who is the one that lives in pleasure—the man who rages and writhes and is goaded by many lusts and is not even in possession of himself, or the one who is delivered from all these waves and sits, as it were, in the harbor of philosophy? Is it not plain that it is the latter? But this has been shown to be the peculiar mark of virtue.

So that vice has only the name of pleasure, but is destitute of the reality;

and before the enjoyment it is madness, not pleasure, and after the enjoyment it too is straightway quenched.

If then neither at the beginning nor afterward is it possible to behold its pleasure, where and when shall it appear? But that you may learn more clearly what I mean, let us exercise the argument upon an example.

A certain man fell in love with a beautiful and shapely woman;

so long as he has not attained the object of his passion, he resembles those who are beside themselves and out of their wits;

but when he has attained it, he has quenched his desire.

If then he takes no pleasure in the beginning—

for the thing is madness—

and if by the union he dissolves the frenzy—

where then shall we find it? But our things are not like this; rather, even at the beginning our pleasure is delivered from all disturbance, and unto the end it abides in full vigor.

Or rather, with us there is no end to pleasure, nor do our good things have any limit, nor is this pleasure ever dissolved.

Considering all these things, therefore, if indeed we are in love with pleasure, let us lay hold of virtue, that we may attain both the present and the coming good things;

which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and love toward mankind, and so forth.