Homilies on First Thessalonians 7

'But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them that are asleep, that you sorrow not, even as the rest who have no hope.'

Many things grieve us merely out of ignorance, so that, if we learn them well, we shall beat back the pain.

This indeed Paul too made plain when he said, 'I would not have you to be ignorant, that you sorrow not, even as the rest who have no hope.'

In what would you not have them ignorant? In the doctrine, he says, concerning the resurrection.

But why do you not speak of the punishment laid up for being ignorant of the doctrine concerning the resurrection? Because this is evident from that, and is already agreed upon;

and meanwhile, together with that, this too will be no small gain.

For since it was not that they disbelieved the resurrection, but nevertheless they mourned, on this account he speaks thus.

And he discourses in one way with those who disbelieve, and in another with these;

for those who inquire about the times and the seasons plainly did know.

'For if we believe,' he says, 'that Jesus died and rose and lived again, even so them also that are fallen asleep through Jesus will God bring with him.'

Where are those who set aside the flesh? For if He took not flesh, neither did He die;

and if He died not, neither did He rise.

How then does he urge us to faith from these things? Was he not rather, according to them, a trifler and a deceiver? For if to die belongs to sin, and Christ did not sin, how does he urge us now? And why also does he say, 'Even as the rest who have no hope'? As though he said:

Whom do you bewail, O men? For whom do you sorrow? For the sinners, or for those who simply die? So then, for whom do those others lament? But all these things become stale to them: 'the Firstborn,' he says, 'from the dead;'

therefore there must also be the rest.

And observe how here he lays down nothing from reasonings, since they were docile;

but writing to the Corinthians, he first stirred up much even from reasonings, and then he added:

'You foolish one, that which you sow is not made alive.'

For this is more authoritative; but that is when he discourses with the believer.

But with respect to the outsider, what force would this have? 'Thus,' he says, 'shall God also bring with Him, through Jesus, those who have fallen asleep.'

Nowhere does he say 'those who have died.'

But in the case of Christ he set down the word 'died,' since he also spoke of the resurrection;

here, however, he says 'those who have fallen asleep through Jesus.'

He means one of two things: either those who have fallen asleep in the faith of Jesus, or that He will bring through Jesus those who have fallen asleep — that is, the faithful.

At this point the heretics assert that he is speaking of those who have been baptized.

Then where does the word 'thus' stand? For Jesus did not fall asleep through baptism.

And for what reason does he say 'those who have fallen asleep'? So that he is discoursing not about a universal resurrection, but about a partial one.

'He will bring,' he says, 'those who have fallen asleep through Jesus.'

'For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord shall by no means precede those who have fallen asleep.'

He speaks concerning the faithful, and 'those who have fallen asleep in Christ';

and again, 'The dead shall rise.'

Furthermore, his discourse is not about the resurrection only, but also about the resurrection and about the honor that lies in glory.

Of the resurrection, then, all shall have their share, he says;

but not all shall be in glory — only 'those in Christ.'

Since, therefore, he wishes to console them, he consoles them not by this alone, but also by the great honor and by the swiftness, since they already knew the former.

For that he wishes to console them by the honor, going on he says, 'And so we shall always be with the Lord';

and that, 'We shall be caught up in the clouds.'

But how do the faithful fall asleep through Jesus?

Evidently by having Christ within themselves.

And the phrase 'He will bring with Him' shows that they are led from many quarters.

'For this we say to you,' he says, 'by the word of the Lord.'

For this reason he adds also the note of trustworthiness.

That is: 'Not of ourselves, but having learned it from Christ, we say, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord shall by no means precede those who have fallen asleep.'

This is what he says in the Epistle to the Corinthians, namely that

'In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.'

Here he set forth the trustworthiness both by the resurrection and by the manner of it.

And since the matter seems to be difficult, he himself shows that, just as it is easy for the living to be caught up, so also it is for those who have departed.

But the word 'we' he does not say concerning himself;

for surely he was not going to remain until the resurrection, but he speaks of the faithful.

For this reason he added, 'We who remain until the coming of the Lord shall by no means precede those who have fallen asleep.'

Do not suppose there is any difficulty when you hear that the living at that time shall by no means precede those who are dissolved, those who are decayed, those who have lain for countless years;

but just as it is easy for Him to bring back those still whole, so also those who are dissolved.

But there are some who disbelieve the matter, because they do not know God.

For which, tell me, is easier: to bring into being out of non-being, or to raise up again what has been dissolved? But what do they say? 'Such a one,' they say, 'suffered shipwreck and was sunk, and as he fell many fishes received him, and each of the fishes ate a portion of him.'

Then of these very fishes, one was caught in this gulf, another in that, and was eaten by another, and that one by yet another.

And these again — the fishes that ate the fishes which had devoured the man — died in other regions, they too perhaps by wild beasts.

Now with such confusion and dispersion having taken place, how shall the man rise again? Who is it that shall gather the dust together? Why do you say this, O man, and weave strings of nonsense, and set it down as impossible? For tell me: even if he does not fall into the sea, even if no fish eats him, nor is the fish in turn devoured by countless men, but the man is laid out in a coffin and buried, and neither worms nor anything else troubles him — how shall that which is dissolved rise again? How shall the dust and ashes be joined together? Whence, after all, shall come the bloom of the body? Is not this too impossible? Now if it be Greeks who raise these difficulties, we shall say ten thousand things against them.

How so? For among them there are those who lead souls into plants and into shrubs and into dogs;

tell me, which is easier: to take up one's own body, or that of another? Others again say that we are consumed by fire, and that there is a resurrection of garments and of sandals, and they are not laughed at;

others introduce atoms.

But against those men we have no argument here;

yet to the faithful — if indeed we ought to call those who raise such questions 'faithful' — we shall nevertheless say the apostolic word: that all life comes from corruption; all plants, all seeds.

Do you not see the fig tree — how great a trunk it has, how great its stems? And how many leaves, branches, shoots, and roots holding on so firmly and embosomed in the earth? This, then, so great and of such a kind, comes from that little millet-grain which was cast down, and which itself first perished;

and unless it rots and is dissolved, none of these things will come to be.

Tell me, whence comes this? And the vine too, so beautiful both to behold and to partake of, comes from that unsightly thing.

And tell me, is not the water that is borne down from above one and the same? And how is it changed into so many things? For this is more marvelous than the resurrection.

For there the seed is the same, and the same plant underlies it, and the kinship is great;

but here, tell me, how does that which has one quality and one nature turn into so many things? In the vine there comes wine — not wine only, but also leaves and sap;

for indeed not the cluster only, but also the rest of the vine is nourished by it;

again, in the olive there is oil, and all the other things which one cannot even enumerate.

And what is marvelous: here it is moist, there dry; here sweet, there sharp; there astringent, elsewhere bitter.

How, tell me, is it turned into so many things? Give the explanation.

But in your own case, tell me (for it is nearer at hand): this seed that is cast down, how is it fashioned and shaped into eyes, into ears, into hands, into a heart, into so many things? Are there not ten thousand differences in the body — of shapes, of sizes,

of qualities, of positions, of powers, of proportions? How do sinews and veins and flesh and bones and membranes and arteries and joints and cartilages, and however many more than these the sons of physicians investigate with precision — things that hold our nature together — how do all these come from the one seed? Does not this seem to you far more baffling than those other things: how the moist and soft is congealed into the hard and cold, namely the bone? How, when united, it becomes the warm and moist, namely the blood? How the sinew becomes cold and soft? How the artery becomes cold and moist? Whence come these things, tell me? Do you not raise these as difficulties? Do you not see, each day, a resurrection and a death occurring in the ages of life? Where has youth gone? Whence has old age come? How is it that the aged man cannot make himself young again, yet begets another child that is most young, and what he cannot furnish to himself he furnishes to another?

This may be seen both in trees and in living creatures.

And yet that which furnishes to another ought first to furnish to itself.

But these things human reasoning demands;

yet when God is the Maker, let all things give way.

If these things are so baffling, and baffling beyond measure, there has now come into my mind a thought concerning the madmen who busy themselves with prying into the incorporeal begetting of the Son.

The things that happen each day, that are subjected to our very hands, and that have been sought out ten thousand times — no one has ever yet been able to find them out;

how then, tell me, do they busy themselves with prying into that ineffable and unutterable begetting? Has not the mind grown weary, treading on emptiness in such matters? Has it not been whirled into ten thousand dizzy turns? Has it not been struck dumb? And yet not even so are they instructed.

Being unable to say anything about grapes and figs, they busy themselves with prying into God.

For tell me, how is that grape-seed resolved into leaves and stems? How was it that before this it was not in it, nor was it seen? 'But it is not the grape-seed,' he says, 'rather it is all from the earth.'

And how is it that without this the earth bears nothing of itself? But let us not be foolish;

that which comes to be is neither of the earth nor of the millet-grain, but of the Lord of both the earth and the seeds.

Therefore both without these and with these He made these things to come to be — showing on the one hand His own power, when He said, 'Let the earth bring forth the herb of grass';

and on the other hand, along with showing His own power, also instructing us to be diligent and fond of labor.

Why now have these things been said by us? Not without purpose, but so that we may also believe in the resurrection;

and that, whenever we wish to grasp something by reasonings and are not strong enough, we may not be vexed nor indignant, but, gratefully turning back and reining in our reasoning, may take refuge in the power of God and His resourcefulness.

Knowing these things, therefore, let us put a bridle upon our reasonings;

let us not overstep the bounds and the measures of knowledge that have been given to us.

'For if anyone thinks he knows something,' he says, 'he has not yet known anything as he ought to know.'

I do not speak concerning God alone, but concerning every matter.

For what do you wish to learn about the earth? What do you know of it, tell me? How great is its measure? How vast its magnitude? What sort of position has it? What is its substance? What kind of place is it in? Where does it stand, and upon what? Yet you would be able to say none of these things.

But that it is cold and dry and dark, these you might be able to say, but nothing beyond that.

But what of the sea? Here likewise you will fall into perplexity, not knowing where it begins, where it ends, upon what it is borne, what supports its depths, what sort of place it occupies, and whether beyond it there is dry land, or whether it terminates in water and air.

But what do you know of the things within it? Shall I speak of the air? Or of the elements? You will say nothing.

Let me leave these things aside. Would you have us choose the smallest of the plants? The fruitless grass, which we all know, tell me how it is brought forth? Is it not water that lies beneath it, and earth and dung? What is it that makes it appear so beautiful and have so marvelous a color? Whence does that beauty so wither away? It is not the work of water, nor of earth.

...need? How does the earth bring forth? How does it travail, tell me? Yet you would be able to say none of these things.

Be instructed, O man, in the things below and the things here at hand, and do not busy yourself curiously nor meddle with heaven — and would that it were heaven, and not the Master of heaven!

You do not know the earth, tell me, from which you were born, in which you were nourished, which you inhabit, which you tread upon, without which you cannot even draw breath — and do you meddle with things so far removed? Truly man is vanity.

If someone should bid you go down into the deep and track out the things at the bottom of the sea, you would not endure the command;

yet, with no one compelling you, do you of yourself wish to comprehend the unsearchable abyss? Do not, I beseech you;

but let us sail above, not swimming with our reasonings;

for we shall soon grow weary and be sunk beneath the waves;

but rather, making use of the divine Scriptures, as with a ship let us spread the sails of faith.

If we sail in these, the Word of God will be present with us as a pilot;

but if we swim in human reasonings, no longer so.

For to which of those who so swim will a pilot be present? So that the danger is twofold: both that there is no ship, and that the pilot is absent.

For if even a vessel without a pilot is perilous, when both are lacking, what hope of salvation is there? Let us not, then, cast ourselves into manifest danger, but let us walk on safe ground, having fastened ourselves to the sacred anchor.

For thus shall we sail into the calm haven with much merchandise and with all safety;

and may we attain the good things laid up for those who love Him, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, and so forth.