Homilies on First Thessalonians 10

And we beseech you, brethren, to know them who labor among you, and are set over you in the Lord, and admonish you; and to esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake.

The ruler of necessity has many occasions for despondency.

And just as the sons of physicians are constrained to inflict much pain upon the sick, prescribing both foods and medicines which bring no pleasure, yet much benefit;

and just as fathers in many cases are burdensome to their sons;

so also are teachers, and much more so.

For the physician, even if he be hated by the sick man, yet is regarded with kindness by his relatives and friends, and often even by the sick man himself;

and the father, both by the ties of nature and by the outward laws, exercises his authority over his child with great ease;

and even if he correct and rebuke him against his will, there is none to hinder, nay, the child himself cannot even look him in the face against him;

but in the case of the priest there is great difficulty.

First of all, then, he ought to rule over willing subjects, and over those who are grateful to him for his rule;

but this cannot readily come to pass.

For he who is reproved and rebuked, whatever kind of man he be, altogether casts off his gratitude and is filled with hatred;

in like manner will act also he who is exhorted, and he who is admonished, and he who is entreated.

'Empty out your money to the needy'—I have spoken something oppressive and burdensome;

'Chastise your anger, quench your wrath, put a stop to unseemly desire, cut off some small portion of your luxury'—all these are burdensome and oppressive.

And if I chastise the negligent man, or lead him away from the church, or bar him from the common prayer, he is grieved—not because he has fallen from these things, but because of the shame before all.

For this too is an aggravation of the disease, that when we are barred from spiritual things, we grieve not for the loss of so many good things, but for the shame before those who behold us;

we do not shudder, we do not fear the matter itself.

For this reason Paul discourses much, up and down, concerning these things.

And Christ indeed subjected them with such great constraint, so as to say:

'The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat.'

'All therefore, whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do;

but do not according to their works.'

And again, when He had healed the leper, He said:

'Go, show yourself to the priest, and offer your gift, which Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them.'

'You make him twofold more the son of hell than yourselves.'

For this reason He said, 'What they do, do not,' he says.

Thus did Christ shut out every pretext from the one who is ruled.

And this same Paul, writing also to Timothy, said:

'Let the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honor.'

And writing also to the Hebrews he said:

'Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves.'

'And we beseech you, brethren, to know them who labor among you, and are set over you in the Lord.'

'Edify one another'—lest they should think that he had exalted them to the dignity of teachers, he added this, all but saying, 'To you also have I granted to build up one another';

for it is not possible for the teacher to say everything.

'Them who labor,' he says, 'among you, and are set over you in the Lord, and'—

And how is this not absurd? he says. What do you mean? You, indeed—if a man become your patron with a man, you do everything, you acknowledge every favor;

but this man stands as your patron before God, and you acknowledge no favor? And how does he stand as patron? he says. Because he prays for you, because he ministers to you the spiritual gift that comes through baptism, he visits, he exhorts and admonishes; in the middle of the night, if you call, he comes; he is subject to nothing but your mouth alone, and bears the revilings that come from you.

What necessity had he? Did he act well or ill? You indeed have a wife, and you live in luxury, and you choose a merchant's life;

but the priest has devoted himself to this;

he has no other life, but is wholly occupied about the Church.

'Esteem them,' he says, 'very highly in love for their work's sake.'

Do you see how he knows that despondencies arise? 'Love them not simply,' he says, 'but very highly, as children love fathers.'

For through them you were born the eternal birth; through them you obtained the kingdom; through their hands all things are done; through them the heavenly gates are opened to you.

Let no one be seditious, let no one be contentious.

He who loves Christ, whatever kind of man the priest may be, will love him, because through him he has obtained the awful mysteries.

Tell me: if, desiring to behold the palace ablaze with much gold and glittering with the splendor of gems, you should find the man who has the keys, and he at your request straightway opened it and conducted you within, would you not prefer him to all men? would you not love him as your own eyes? would you not embrace him? This man has opened heaven to you, and do you not love and cherish him? If you had a wife, would you not long above all others for the one who was your go-between? So then, if you love Christ, if you love the kingdom of heaven, recognize through whom you obtained it.

'Now we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, comfort the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all.'

Here he discourses to the rulers.

'Admonish,' he says, 'the disorderly';

that is, rebuke them not from authority nor from arrogance, but with fairness, with gentleness.

'Comfort the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all.'

For he who is harshly rebuked, despairing of himself, becomes more insolent through contempt;

for this reason it is needful in admonition to make the medicine pleasant.

And who are the disorderly? Assuredly those who act contrary to what seems good to God.

For more fitting than the military order is this order of the Church.

So then both the reviler is disorderly, and the drunkard is disorderly, and the covetous man, and all who sin;

for they walk not in ranks in the phalanx, but wildly out of line.

But there is also another kind of evils—not indeed such as this, yet itself also a vice.

What kind is this? Fainthearted despondency;

for this too, like negligence, destroys men.

He who cannot bear an insult is fainthearted;

he who cannot bear a temptation is fainthearted;

this is he that was sown upon the rock.

There is also yet another kind, that of weakness.

'Support the weak,' he says, meaning by 'the weak' those weak concerning the faith;

for weakness arises also concerning it.

But observe how he does not permit them to be disdainfully cast off.

And elsewhere too, writing, he said, 'Him that is weak in the faith receive.'

For indeed in our own bodies also we do not suffer the ailing member to perish.

'Be patient,' he says, 'toward all men.'

What then? Even toward the disorderly? Yes, very much so;

for there is no remedy equal to this, especially for a teacher, nor is anything so suitable for those under instruction;

it is altogether able to abash, altogether able to shame even the man who is fiercest and most shameless of all.

'See that none render to any man evil for evil.'

If one ought not to render evil for evil, much more should one not render evil for good; and much more still, when no evil has gone before, should one not render evil.

'But such a one,' he says, 'is wicked, and

he has grieved me, and has wronged me in many things.'

Do you wish to avenge yourself upon him? Then do not requite him;

Only as far as this? By no means.

'But ever follow that which is good, both toward one another, and toward all men.'

This is the greater philosophy: not merely to refrain from requiting evils with evils, but to requite them with good things;

for this is indeed the true revenge, which carries harm to him and benefit to you;

or rather, it brings much benefit even to him, if he is willing.

And that you might not suppose this was said only concerning the faithful, for this reason he said:

'Both toward one another, and toward all men.'

This concerns the trials that bring on affliction.

Hear this, all you who have fallen into poverty, all you who are beset by grievous affairs;

for out of these things joy is born.

For when we have such a soul as to avenge ourselves on no one, but to do good to all, whence, tell me, shall the sting of grief be able to enter in? For he who so rejoices in suffering ill as even to requite with kindnesses the one who has done him ill, from what quarter shall he thereafter be able to be pained? And how is this possible, one asks? If we are willing, it is possible.

Then he also showed the way:

'Pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks.'

To give thanks always—this belongs to a soul devoted to true wisdom.

Have you suffered some evil? Yet if you are willing, it is no evil;

give thanks to God, and the evil has been changed into good;

'Blessed be the name of the Lord forever.'

For what, tell me, of such a kind have you suffered? Has sickness befallen you? Yet this is nothing strange;

for our body is mortal and subject to suffering.

But has poverty of goods met you? Yet these things too are such as may be gained and lost, and remain here below.

But have there come plots and false accusations from enemies? Yet it is not we who have been wronged in these things, but those who have done them;

for 'the soul,' he says, 'that sins, that soul itself shall also die.'

But it was not the one who suffered ill that sinned, but the one who did ill.

Therefore one ought not to avenge oneself on him who is (as it were) dead, but rather to pray for him, that he may be delivered from death.

Do you not see the bee, how in stinging it dies upon its sting? Through that creature God teaches us not to grieve our neighbors;

for we ourselves receive death first.

For in stinging those men we have perhaps grieved them for a little while;

but we ourselves shall live no longer, just as neither does that creature.

And yet the Scripture praises it, saying,

whose labor kings and common men alike apply for their health;

yet nothing avails it to escape dying, but it must altogether perish.

But if its remaining greed does not deliver it, when it does ill, much less shall it deliver us.

For it belongs to the most savage of wild beasts to begin injustice when no one is wronging you;

For those beasts, if you leave them to feed in the wilderness, and do not straiten them so as to reduce them to necessity, will never do harm, nor approach, nor bite, but will go off on their own way;

but you, being a man endowed with reason, honored with so great a rule and honor and glory, do not even imitate the beasts toward your own kind, but wrong your brother and devour him? And whence shall you be able to make your defense? Do you not hear Paul saying,

'Why do you not rather suffer wrong? Why do you not rather allow yourselves to be defrauded? But you yourselves do wrong and defraud, and that your brethren.'

Do you see that to suffer ill lies in doing ill, and to fare well lies in suffering ill? For tell me:

if someone should revile the rulers, if someone should insult those in authority, whom does he wrong—himself, or them? Plainly himself.

Then, while he who insults a ruler insults not that man but himself, does not he who insults a man insult Christ through that man?

What do you say? He who stones the images of the emperor, whom does he stone? Is it not himself? Then, if he who stones the image of an earthly emperor stones himself, does not he who insults the image of Christ—for man is the image of God—wrong himself? How long shall we love money?

for I shall not cease crying out against it;

for this is the cause of all evils.

How long shall we not take our fill of this insatiable desire? What good has gold in it? I am astonished at the thing;

the thing is truly a kind of sorcery, that gold and silver should be esteemed by us at so high a price.

For our souls we make no account, but for lifeless images there is much attendance.

Whence did this disease come upon the world? Who shall be able to exterminate it? What manner of word shall cut down this cruel beast, and destroy it with utter ruin? The desire has been sown into the minds of men, even of those who seem to be in godliness.

Let us be ashamed before the evangelical precepts;

the words lie only in the Scripture, but in works they are nowhere displayed.

But what is that specious argument of the multitude? 'I have children,' he says, 'and I myself am afraid lest I fall into the necessity of famine and want, lest I come to need others;'

For this reason, then, do you make others beg? 'I cannot,' he says, 'endure hunger.'

For this reason, then, do you compass others about with famine?

Do you know how dreadful a thing it is to beg? How dreadful to be wasted by famine? Spare your own brethren also.

You are ashamed to hunger, tell me, but are you not ashamed to plunder? You dread to be wasted by famine, but do you not dread to waste others? And yet to hunger has neither shame nor blame in it;

but to compass others about with these things brings not only shame, but also the uttermost punishment.

All these are pretexts and words and idle babblings.

For that it is not for the sake of children that you do these things is witnessed by all those who have no children and never shall have, yet toil and afflict themselves thus, and heap about themselves wealth as great as if they had ten thousand children to leave it to.

It is not care for children that makes a man money-loving, but a disease of the soul.

Because of this, many even without children go mad over money;

while others, living amid a multitude of children, even despise their possessions;

those latter shall accuse you in that day.

For if the necessity of children constrained men to the gathering of money, those others too would have needed to have the same longing, the same desire;

But if they have none, it is not because of a multitude of children, but because of the love of money, that we go mad.

'And who are they,' one asks, 'that despise riches for the sake of their children?' Many, and in many places;

and if you wish, I will speak also of the men of old.

Did not Jacob have twelve children? Did he not live the life of a hired servant? Was he not wronged by his father-in-law? Did not that man often deal falsely with him? Did his many children compel him to plot anything unbecoming? And what of Abraham? Did he not, besides Isaac, have many other children as well? What then? Did he not hold his possessions as belonging to strangers? Do you see that not only did he do no wrong, but he even yielded up what was his own, not only doing good, but even choosing to be wronged by his nephew? For to bear being plundered for God's sake is far greater than to do good.

Why? Because the one is the fruit of the soul and of the will, and therefore comes about with ease;

and one would more readily part with ten thousand talents willingly, and count himself to have suffered nothing dreadful, than, being robbed of three obols against his will, bear it with meekness.

So that this is rather a philosophy of the soul.

And this we see to have taken place in the case of Abraham;

'For Lot,' it says, 'beheld the country round about, and it was well watered, like the paradise of God, and he chose it for himself.'

And that man gave no word of opposition.

Do you see that not only did he do no wrong, but he was even himself wronged? Why do you accuse your own children, O man? God did not give us children for this end, that we should snatch away the goods of others.

See that you do not provoke God by saying this.

For if you say this, that they are the cause to you of your rapine and your money-getting, I fear lest you be deprived of them, as of things that harm you and plot against you.

God gave you children that they might care for your old age, that they might learn virtue from you.

For this reason He willed that the human race should be constituted in this way, bringing about two most important things:

the one, by setting fathers over children as teachers; the other, by implanting great love.

For if men were simply to come into being, no one would have any relationship with another.

For if now, when there are fathers and children and grandchildren, many take no thought for many, much more would this have been so then.

For this reason God has given you children;

do not, therefore, accuse your children.

But if those who have children have no defense, what plea could those offer who have none, and yet wear themselves out over the gathering of wealth? Yet there is a certain plea for these too, one stripped of all defense.

What then is this? 'That in place of children,' he says, 'we may have our wealth as a memorial.'

'In place of children,' he says, 'the house becomes an immortal memorial of my glory.'

It will be a memorial not of your glory, O man, but of your greed.

Or do you not see now how many, as they pass by the splendid houses, converse with one another in such terms as these:

'How much did so-and-so extort, how much did he plunder, in order to build this house? And now that man has become ashes and dust, while this house has passed into the inheritance of others.'

You leave behind, then, a memorial not of your glory, but of your greed.

And though your body is hidden in the earth, you do not permit the memory of your greed—which by the multitude of years might have been forgotten—to be forgotten, but you cause it to be sounded forth and dug up again by means of the house.

For so long as this house stands, bearing your surname and called by the name of so-and-so, it is altogether necessary that the mouths of all be opened against you.

Do you see that it is better to have nothing than to endure this accusation? And this is so here;

but there, tell me, what shall we do, we who here become lords of so much, yet impart nothing of our possessions, or very little? How shall we strip off our acts of greed? For he who wishes to strip off greed gives not a little out of much, but many times over what he has snatched, and ceases even from snatching.

Hear what Zacchaeus says:

'And whatever I have taken by force, I restore fourfold.'

But you, having plundered ten thousand talents, if you give a few drachmas—and even that grudgingly—think you have paid back the whole, and consider yourself as having given more;

and yet you ought both to restore those very things, and to add to them yet more out of your own store.

For just as the thief has not made his defense merely by restoring those stolen things, but has often added his very life as well, and often has settled the matter only by paying many times over, so too the covetous man.

For the covetous man too is a thief, and a robber far more grievous than that one, inasmuch as he is also more tyrannical.

For that man, by hiding himself and by setting to his work at night, greatly curtails his own audacity, as though ashamed and afraid of sinning;

but this man, having cast off all shame, with bared head snatches away the goods of all in the midst of the marketplace, being at once both thief and tyrant;

he does not break through walls, nor put out the lamp, nor open the chest, nor overturn the seals;

but what does he do? He does things bolder than these: in the sight of those he wrongs, he casts them out through the door, opens everything with utter effrontery, and compels those very men to set forth their own goods.

So great is the excess of his violence.

This man is far more polluted than those, inasmuch as he is also more shameless and more tyrannical.

For he who has suffered something through guile grieves indeed, yet has no small consolation in this—that his very wrongdoer at least was afraid;

but he who, together with suffering harm, is also treated with contempt, will not even be able to bear the violence.

Tell me: if one man committed adultery with a woman secretly, and another did this thing in the sight of the husband, which would have grieved him more, and been able to sting him to the quick? Is it not the latter? For the one, along with doing evil, also showed his scorn;

the other, if nothing else, at least showed that he feared the one he had wronged.

So also in the case of money: he who takes secretly has by this very thing paid honor—by taking secretly;

but he who takes openly and publicly has, together with the loss, brought shame as well.

Let us therefore cease from snatching away the goods of others, both we who are poor and

for this word of mine is not to the rich only, but also to the poor.

For they too plunder those poorer than themselves; and the better-off and more powerful craftsmen make merchandise of the more needy and poorer, hucksters do so to hucksters, and all who are in the marketplace do the like.

So that I wish to root out injustice from every quarter.

For the wrong consists not in the measure of what is snatched and stolen, but in the purpose of the one who steals.

And that these are the greater thieves and covetous men—those who do not even despise small things—I know, and I remember having said to you, if indeed you also remember.

Nevertheless, let us not scrutinize the matter too precisely;

let these too be reckoned like the rich.

Let us henceforth train the mind not to desire what belongs to greater men, not to reach out after more.

And in the heavens let the desire for more never have any limit, but let each ever reach out after more;

but upon the earth let each be content with his need and with self-sufficiency, and seek nothing more, that so we may be able to attain the things that are truly good, by the grace and love-toward-mankind, and so forth.