Homilies on Second Corinthians 1

Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the Church of God which is at Corinth, with all the saints who are in the whole of Achaia:

grace be to you and peace from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, through the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

It is worth inquiring first for what reason he adds a second Epistle to the former, and why he thus begins from the mercies of God and from comfort.

For what reason, then, does he add a second? In the former Epistle he had said, 'I will come to you, and I will know, not the word of those who are puffed up, but the power'; and toward the end he had again more gently promised this very thing.

'For I will come to you,' he says, 'when I have passed through Macedonia;

for I am passing through Macedonia;

and perhaps I will remain with you, or even spend the winter there.'

But though much time had passed in between, he had not come; indeed, even after the appointed time had gone by, he was still delaying and was slow, the Spirit holding him back among other matters far more necessary than these.

For this reason he had need of a second Epistle, which he would not have needed had he been delayed but a little.

And not for this reason alone, but also because they had become better as a result of the former Epistle.

For the man who had committed fornication, whom formerly they had supported and on whose account they had thought highly of themselves, this man they now cut off and entirely separated.

And this he made plain when he said:

'But if anyone has caused grief, he has not grieved me, but in part—that I may not overcharge you all.'

'Sufficient to such a one is this punishment, which was inflicted by the many.'

And going on further he again hints at the same thing, saying:

'For behold, this very thing, that you were grieved after a godly manner—what earnestness it wrought in you;

yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what longing, yea, what zeal, yea, what avenging!'

'In everything you have proved yourselves to be pure in this matter.'

And the collection, too, which he had commanded, they gathered together with much earnestness.

'For I know your readiness, of which I boast on your behalf to the Macedonians, that Achaia was prepared a year ago.'

And Titus, whom he had sent, they received with all goodwill.

And showing this very thing, he again said that 'his inward affection is more abundant toward you, as he remembers the obedience of you all, how with fear and trembling you received him.'

On account of all these things he writes the second Epistle.

For it was fitting that, just as he had accused them when they were sinning, so too, now that they had been corrected, he should accept them and commend them.

For this reason the whole Epistle is not of a more severe cast, but only a few portions toward its end.

For among them too there were certain from the Jews who thought highly of themselves and slandered Paul as a braggart and as one worthy of no account, saying:

'His letters are weighty, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible.'

'For when he is present,' he says, 'he appears to be worthy of nothing';

for this is the meaning of 'The presence of the body is weak';

but when he is away he vaunts great things by the letters he sends;

for the words 'His letters are weighty' signify this.

And in order that they might seem to make their own conduct appear dignified, they pretended not to receive [support].

This very thing, then, he also hints at:

'that in what they boast, they may be found even as we.'

And along with these things, having also there the power that comes from eloquence, they were greatly exalted.

Therefore he also calls himself unskilled in speech, showing that he is not ashamed of this, nor does he regard it as any great possession, but rather quite the contrary.

Since, then, it was likely that some were being led astray by these men, having first praised them for the things in which they had done well, and having cast down the arrogance of those men over their Jewish observances—inasmuch as they were contentiously bent on keeping those observances out of season—he then, in due measure, administers his rebuke concerning these matters as well.

The subject-matter of the Epistle, then, as one might state it in summary and in passing, appears to me to be this.

But it remains now to take up the very preamble of the Epistle, and after his customary salutation to say for what reason he thus began from the mercies of God.

For the present, however, it is necessary to speak of the very beginning, and to inquire how it is that he here ranks Timothy together with himself.

'For Paul,' he says, 'an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy the brother.'

For indeed in the former Epistle he had promised to send him, and had given charge, saying:

'Now if Timothy come, see that he may be with you without fear.'

How, then, does he here rank him together with himself in the preamble? Having arrived according to the teacher's promise (for 'I have sent to you Timothy,' he says, 'who shall put you in remembrance of my ways which are in Christ'), and having set all things right, he returned.

For indeed, when sending him, he had said:

'Send him forward in peace, that he may come to me;

for I look for him with the brethren.'

Since, then, he had received back his disciple, and having set right along with him the affairs in Asia (for 'I will tarry,' he says, 'at Ephesus until Pentecost'), and had crossed over again into Macedonia, he naturally now ranks him together with himself as being present with him.

For then indeed he was writing from Asia, but now from Macedonia.

And he ranked him together with himself, thereby both making him more honorable and displaying his own great humility;

for indeed Timothy was inferior to him, but love brings all things together.

Wherefore also everywhere he makes him equal to himself, now saying:

'As a child with a father, he served with me;'

and now, 'For he works the work of the Lord, as I also do';

and here he even calls him brother, thereby rendering him worthy of respect in every way to the Corinthians.

For indeed he had been present there, as I said, and had given proof of his own virtue.

'To the Church of God which is at Corinth.'

Again he calls them a Church, gathering all into one and binding them together.

For there could not be one Church if those in it were torn apart and standing against one another.

'With all the saints who are in the whole of Achaia.'

At the same time he also honors the Corinthians, addressing all through their Epistle, and he gathers together the whole nation.

And he calls them saints, showing that if anyone is unclean, he is outside this appellation.

But why, in writing to the metropolis, does he through it address all, since he does not do this everywhere? When writing to the Thessalonians, at any rate, he surely did not write to the Macedonians as well;

and in writing to the Ephesians, likewise, he did not include all Asia;

and the Epistle to the Romans, too, was not addressed also to those dwelling in Italy.

But here he does this, and also in the Epistle to the Galatians.

For there too he writes not to one city, nor to two or three, but to those scattered everywhere, saying:

'Paul, an apostle not from men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ and God the Father who raised him from the dead, and all the brethren who are with me, to the Churches of Galatia: grace be to you and peace.'

And to the Hebrews, too, he wrote a single Epistle to them all, not dividing these either according to cities.

What then is the reason for this? It seems to me that the maladies here were common to all;

and therefore he makes the Epistle a common one, since they also had need of a common correction.

For indeed the Galatians were all sick, and so were the Hebrews.

Having therefore gathered together the whole nation, and addressed them—as it was his custom to greet them all together—

'For grace to you and peace,' he says, 'from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.'

Hear now how fittingly he begins in accord with the subject before him:

'Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort.'

And in what way, someone asks, is this fitting to the subject before us? Most fitting indeed.

It grieved and greatly troubled them that the Apostle had not come to them there, even though he had promised it, but had spent all his time in Macedonia, and seemed to have preferred others before them.

For this reason, taking his stand against what was troubling them, he states the cause for which he did not come to them;

yet he does not set it forth directly, nor does he say, 'I know that I promised to come, but since I was hindered by afflictions, forgive me, and do not condemn me for any disdain or negligence on our part';

but he frames it otherwise, in a more magnificent and more credible manner, exalting the matter by his consolation, so that they may no longer even inquire into the cause for which he was delayed.

And he does the very same thing as one would who, having promised to come to someone dearly longed for, and then, after countless dangers, having arrived, should say:

'Glory to Thee, O God, that Thou hast shown me the countenance I longed for;

blessed be God, from what great dangers hast Thou delivered me!'

For this doxology becomes a defense against the one who would accuse, and does not even allow him to blame the delay.

For he is ashamed to drag before a tribunal, and to demand an account of the tardiness from, one who is giving thanks to God for deliverance from so many evils.

For this reason he too begins in this way:

'Blessed be the God of mercies';

hinting thereby at the visitation of great dangers and his deliverance from them.

Since David too does not everywhere call upon Him in the same way, nor from the same attributes;

but when he discourses of war and victory, he says, 'I will love Thee, O Lord, my strength; the Lord is my defender';

and when of deliverance from affliction and from the gloom that had gripped him, 'The Lord is my light and my Saviour';

and now from His lovingkindness, now from His righteousness, now from His impartial judgment he names Him, fittingly to the circumstances at hand.

So then Paul also, beginning here, calls upon Him from His lovingkindness, saying, 'The God of mercies';

that is, He who has shown forth such mercies as to bring us up out of the very gates of death.

For this is especially proper to God and peculiarly His, and allotted to His very nature—thus to show mercy.

For this reason he calls Him the God of mercies.

But consider with me, from this too, the humility of Paul;

for though in danger for the sake of the preaching, he does not say that he is saved on account of his own worthiness, but on account of the mercies of God.

But this he says more plainly afterward; for now he goes on, saying:

'Who comforteth us in all our affliction.'

He did not say, 'Who suffereth us not to be afflicted,' but, 'Who comforteth us in our being afflicted.'

For this both displays the power of God and increases the endurance of those who are afflicted;

for 'affliction,' he says, 'worketh endurance.'

This the prophet also said:

He did not say, 'Thou didst not suffer me to fall into affliction,' nor, 'Thou didst quickly remove the affliction,' but, 'While it yet remained, Thou hast enlarged me'—that is, Thou hast granted much room and relief;

which indeed came to pass in the case of the three children as well.

For neither did He prevent them from falling in, nor, when they had fallen in, did He quench the flame; but while the furnace was burning, He granted them room.

This too God is ever wont to do;

which very thing Paul also, hinting at it, said:

'Who comforteth us in all our affliction.'

And by these words he shows yet another thing.

What sort of thing is this? That not once, nor twice, but continually He does this.

For neither does He comfort at one time and forsake at another, but always and unceasingly He works this.

Wherefore he said, 'Who comforteth,' not 'Who comforted'; and, 'In all affliction,' not 'In this or that,' but, 'In all';

'that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, through the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.'

Do you see how he strikes up his defense beforehand, and gives the hearer a suspicion of great affliction? And through these very words he again shows moderation, saying that this mercy itself came to pass not on account of their worthiness, but on account of those who were destined to be benefited by them.

'Us,' he says, 'that we may comfort one another.'

And by this he also shows the dignity of the apostles, making it plain that, when comforted and given respite, he does not sink down as we do, but goes forward to anoint and to strengthen and to rouse up others.

But some say that he means this also: that our comfort is the comfort of others as well.

And it seems to me that through this preface he is also aiming at the false apostles who vainly boast, and sit at home in luxury.

But this he does enigmatically, and as it were in passing;

while his primary aim was this: to make his defense concerning the delay.

For if it is for this reason that we are comforted—namely that we may comfort others also—do not accuse us as though we had not come to you.

For to this all our time was consumed—to plots, to onslaughts, to breaking up the terrors that came upon us.

'For as the sufferings of Christ abound unto us, so through Christ our comfort also aboundeth.'

For lest he cast down the disciples by exalting their calamities too greatly, he again shows that the abundance of comfort is also great, and raises up their mind—not by this alone, but also by reminding them, and by saying, that the sufferings are Christ's own;

and even before the comfort, from the afflictions themselves he introduces consolation.

For what is sweeter than to become a partaker with Christ, and to suffer these things for His sake? What is equal to this comfort? And not from this alone, but from another quarter also, he lifts up the spirits of the afflicted.

From what other quarter? From saying, 'It aboundeth.'

For he did not say, 'As the sufferings of Christ come upon us,' but, 'As they abound';

showing that they endure not only His sufferings, but even more than these.

'For not so many sufferings as He suffered,' he says, 'have we suffered, but even more abundant.'

Christ was driven out, was persecuted, was scourged, died.

'But we have suffered more than these,' he says;

which alone would suffice for consolation.

But let no one condemn the saying as presumptuous;

for indeed elsewhere too he says:

'Now I rejoice in my sufferings, and fill up on my part that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh.'

But neither of these came from any rashness or from mere presumption.

For just as they wrought greater signs than He did (for He says, 'He that believeth on me, greater works than these shall he do'), while yet the whole belongs to Him who works in them,

so also they suffered more than He did;

yet the whole of this again belongs to Him who comforts them and enables them to bear the terrible things that befall.

Therefore Paul too, perceiving how great a thing he had uttered, see how he again abates it, saying:

'So through Christ our consolation also aboundeth';

attributing the whole to Him, and thereby proclaiming also His love toward mankind.

For, he says, we are not comforted only in proportion as we are afflicted, but far more abundantly.

For he did not say, 'The consolation is a counterpoise to the sufferings,' but, 'The consolation aboundeth';

as though the season of the contests were once more the season for yet other crowns.

For tell me, what is equal to being scourged for Christ's sake, and to conversing with God, and to being mightier than all men, and to prevailing over those who persecute us, and to being unconquered by the whole world, and to expecting from thence such good things as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man? And what is equal to being afflicted for godliness' sake, and to enjoying countless consolations from God, and to being freed from so many sins, and to being counted worthy of the Spirit and of sanctification and of righteousness, and to fearing and trembling before no one, and to appearing more brilliant than all men in the very moment of danger? Let us not then be cast down in temptations.

For no one has fellowship with Christ while living in luxury and sleeping and lying at ease, nor any of those who lead this soft and dissolute life;

but he who is in affliction and temptation, he stands near to Him—he who travels the narrow way.

For He Himself also trod this path;

'The Son of man hath not where to lay His head.'

Do not therefore grieve when afflicted, considering with whom you have fellowship, and how you are purified through your temptations, and how much you gain.

For there is nothing grievous save this alone—to offend against God.

But when this is absent, neither afflictions, nor plots, nor anything else is able to grieve the soul that is rightly minded;

but just as if you cast a little spark into a great abyss you at once quench it,

so also every excess of despondency, when it falls into a good conscience, perishes and is easily made to vanish.

For this reason Paul too rejoiced always, since he took courage in the things pertaining to God, and did not even feel the sense of those so great evils;

but he indeed suffered pain as a man, yet was not cast down.

So too that patriarch was in gladness, though he suffered many painful things.

He was driven from his country, endured long and grievous journeys, and coming into a strange land had not even a foot's breadth of ground.

Thereupon again a famine overtook him and made him a wanderer, and the famine was in turn succeeded by the seizing of his wife, and the fear of death, and childlessness, and war, and dangers, and plots; and last of all, the very crown of his trials, the slaying of his only-begotten and true-born son—that painful and irremediable thing.

Do not then, because he obeyed readily, suppose that he underwent all those things without feeling.

For though he were righteous ten thousand times over—as indeed he was—yet he was a man, and suffered what belongs to nature.

But nevertheless none of these things overthrew him, but he stood firm like a noble athlete, being proclaimed victor and crowned for each of these things.

So too the blessed Paul, though he saw snowstorms of temptations coming upon him day by day, yet rejoiced and exulted as though he were reveling in the midst of paradise.

As therefore he who rejoices with this joy is not liable to be captured by despondency, so he who has not chosen this joy is an easy prey to all, and suffers the same as one who, having rotten armor, is wounded even by a chance blow.

But not so he who is well fenced about on every side; rather he wards off every javelin that comes against him.

For the joy that is according to God is stronger than any weapon;

and nothing can make such a man downcast and gloomy, but he bears all things nobly.

For what is worse than fire? What is more painful than continual tortures? For though a man lose ten thousand possessions, though he lose children, though he lose anything whatever, this is the most tyrannical of all in respect of pain.

For 'skin for skin,' he says, 'yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life.'

And nothing could be more grievous than such pains.

But nevertheless even things that are unbearable to the hearing become bearable and even desirable through the joy that is according to God.

And if you bring the martyr while yet a little breath remains in him from the rack or from the frying-pans, you will find the joy laid up for him to be so great as cannot even be told.

'And what am I to do,' someone says, 'seeing that the season of martyrdom is not present now?' What say you? Is the season of martyrdom not present? Nay, it is never absent, but is ever before our eyes, if we are but watchful.

For it is not the mere hanging upon a cross that makes a martyr;

since, if this were so, Job would have been outside these crowns.

For he neither stood before a tribunal, nor heard the voice of a judge, nor beheld an executioner;

for he was not hung aloft upon a cross and had his sides torn;

but nevertheless he suffered things more grievous than many martyrs, and the words of those messengers that came one after another smote more sharply than any stripe and pricked him on every side, and the mouths of those worms devoured him on every side more bitterly than ten thousand executioners.

Of how many martyrs, then, would this man not be the equal? Of ten thousand indeed!

For in all things he both wrestled and was crowned—through his possessions, through his children, through his body, through his wife, through his friends, through his enemies, through his servants;

for these too spat in his face;

through famine, through dreams, through pains, through the noisome stench.

For this reason I said that he would be the equal not of one or two or three, but of ten thousand martyrs.

For besides the things mentioned, the length of time also adds much increase to his crowns;

such as the fact that he suffered these things before the Law and before grace, and for many months, and all in excess, and that all the terrible things assailed him at once;

and yet each of them, even taken by itself, was unbearable, even that which seems more bearable—the loss of possessions.

They bore stripes, but the loss of possessions they bore not, but chose rather to be scourged for them, and to suffer ten thousand terrible things rather than to give up any of them;

and this blow—the loss of possessions—appeared to them greater than the other.

So that this too is yet another mode of martyrdom for him who nobly bears the loss of these things.

'And how shall we bear it nobly?' someone says. When you learn that you will gain more than you have lost, by one single word—that of thanksgiving.

For if, on hearing of the loss, we be not troubled, but say, 'Blessed be God,'

we have found far greater riches.

For truly you will not reap so much from spending your wealth upon the needy, and going about, and seeking out the poor, and scattering your substance to the hungry,

as you will gain through this one word.

Since even in Job's case I do not so much admire him for opening his house to the needy as I am astonished at him, and proclaim him, for bearing the plundering of his possessions with thankfulness.

And this same thing one may see happening also in the loss of children.

For neither here will you receive a less reward than he who led up his son and offered him in sacrifice, if, seeing your child die, you give thanks to God who loves mankind.

For in what respect will such a man be inferior to Abraham? For Abraham did not see his son lying dead, but only expected it;

so that if he has the advantage of being about to slay him and of stretching out his hand to snatch the knife, he is at a disadvantage in that here the child lies actually dead.

And in another respect too: for him the hope of the successful accomplishment brought consolation, and the fact that that heroic deed was the work of his own courage, and the hearing of the voice borne down from above made him more eager;

but here there is nothing of the kind.

Wherefore one needs a soul of adamant to see an only son, reared in wealth and giving fair promise of good hopes, lying stretched out upon the bier, and yet to bear what has befallen with meekness.

Such a man, if he is able, having stilled the waves of nature, to say without tears the words of Job, 'The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away,' will stand with Abraham himself, and will be proclaimed together with Job from this word alone.

And if, having stilled the wailings of the women and broken up the choirs of the mourners, he stirs up all to glorify God, he will receive ten thousand prizes from above, ten thousand from below—men admiring him, angels applauding, God crowning him.

And how is it possible, one says, for a man not to mourn, being human? If you consider how the patriarch, and how Job—both of them being men—suffered nothing of this kind, and this though each of them lived before the Law and before grace and before so great a discipline of the laws; if you reason that the one who has died has removed to a better country and has sprung away to a fairer portion, then you have not lost your son, but have laid him up henceforth in an inviolable place.

Do not, then, say, 'I am no longer called father.'

For why are you no longer so called, when your son abides? Have you indeed cast away the child? Have you indeed lost your son? Rather, you have gained him the more, and hold him more securely.

For this reason you are called father no longer here only, but also in heaven.

So that you have not lost being called father, but have gained a greater title of the name.

For you shall be called the father no longer of a mortal child, but of an immortal one, of a noble soldier who stands within continually.

Do not, because he is not present, therefore suppose that he has perished.

For not even if he happened to be away on a journey would the very name of kinship depart from you together with the body.

Do not, then, fix your gaze upon him who lies there, since thereby you rekindle your grief; but lead your mind away from the one lying there, up toward heaven.

This is not the child—that which lies here—but the other, who has flown away and run up to a boundless height.

When, therefore, you see the eyes closed, and the mouth shut, and the body motionless, do not think this—that this mouth no longer speaks, these eyes no longer see, these feet no longer walk, but that all is gone to corruption.

Do not say these things, but the contrary of these—that this mouth shall speak better, and the eyes shall behold greater things, and the feet shall be caught up upon the clouds, and that which is now corrupted

—this body shall put on immortality, and I shall receive back my son more radiant.

But if the things you see grieve you, then meanwhile say to yourself:

'This is a garment, and he has put it off, so as to receive it back more costly;

this is a house, and it has been pulled down, so that it may become brighter.'

For just as we, when we are about to pull down houses, do not allow those dwelling within to remain, but—so that they may be rid of the dust and the tumult—having bidden them to move aside for a little while, when we have made the chamber secure, then we bring them in again in safety;

even so also does God: having pulled down his crumbling tent, he has meanwhile taken him into the ancestral home, to himself, so that when this tent has been pulled down and rebuilt, he may then restore it to him more radiant.

Do not, then, say, 'He is perished and shall be no more,'

for these are the words of unbelievers;

but say, 'He sleeps and shall rise again; he has gone abroad and shall return with the King.'

Who says these things? He who has Christ speaking within himself.

'For if we believe,' he says, 'that Jesus died and rose and lived, so also will God bring with him, through Jesus, those who have fallen asleep.'

If, then, you seek your son, seek him there where the King is, where the host of the angels is;

not in the tomb nor in the earth, lest, while he has been so greatly exalted, you yourself remain dragged along upon the earth.

If, then, we thus practise wisdom, we shall easily beat off all such anguish.

And may the God of mercies and Father of all comfort comfort the hearts of us all—both of those who are anguished by such things, and of those held fast by any other sorrow—and grant that we be delivered from all despondency, and reap spiritual joy, and attain the good things to come;

which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.