Homilies on Genesis 5

That it is not on account of Adam that we are punished, and that, if we attend to ourselves, the good things are greater than the grievous things brought in through him;

and against those who pass by the poor.

You perhaps suppose that our whole discourse concerning lordship has been completed;

but I still see much fruit appearing in it.

But do not grow weary, I beg you, until we have gathered in the whole vintage.

For diligent farmers, when they see a vine luxuriant with many leaves and heavy laden with much fruit, do not cut off only the clusters on the outside, but also go further within, bending back the branches and drawing aside the leaves, so that not even the small berries of a cluster, hidden beneath the foliage, may escape them.

Do not, then, show yourselves more slothful than they, nor depart until you have received the whole;

and especially since the labor is mine, but the fruit is yours.

Yesterday we brought a charge against women—or rather, not against women, but against Eve—because through sin she introduced servitude.

The women might say to us: For what reason, then, since she sinned, have we been condemned; and the transgression was that of one person, but the accusation is common to the whole nature? This too might servants say:

Why then, when it was Canaan who insulted his father, did the punishment pass over upon the whole race? And those who fear their rulers might well raise this same complaint:

Why then, when others lived in wickedness, were these themselves handed over to the yoke of subjection? What then shall we say to all these people? For there will be one solution to all these questions:

namely, that the first men sinned, and by their own disobedience brought in slavery;

and once it had been introduced, those who came after ratified it by their own sins.

For if they could show themselves to be at all times pure of sins, perhaps it would be well for them to think of objecting;

but if they too are liable to many penalties, this defense of theirs is superfluous.

For I did not say that sin does not now bring in slavery, but that every sin is allotted its portion of slavery; and I laid the charge against the nature of sin, not merely against a difference of sin.

Therefore, just as all incurable diseases lead to death, yet not all are of the same nature,

so also all sins give birth to slavery, yet not all are of the same nature.

Eve sinned by touching the tree, and on account of it she was condemned.

Therefore do not you again commit some other sin perhaps more grievous than hers.

This is worth saying also concerning slaves, and also concerning subjects: that the first brought in sin, while those who succeeded them held fast the power of mastery through the very things wherein they transgressed.

I have yet another way in which to make my defense:

namely, that many, when they returned to virtue, were set free from mastery.

And first, if you please, let us exercise the argument in the case of women, that you may see how the blessed Paul, who laid the bonds upon them, himself again loosed them.

If any woman, he says, has an unbelieving husband, and he consents to dwell with her, let her not send him away.

Why? For how do you know, O woman, whether you shall save your husband? And how, one asks, can a woman save him? By teaching, by instructing, by leading him on to the word of godliness.

And yet yesterday, O blessed Paul, you were saying: I do not permit a woman to teach.

How then do you again make her a teacher of her husband? I do this not in contradiction to myself, but rather in full agreement.

Hear then both for what cause he cast her out, and for what cause he again brings her back to the throne of teaching, that you may learn the wisdom of Paul.

For Adam, he says, was not deceived;

for the woman, he says, being deceived, fell into transgression.

For when the husband is unbelieving, but the wife is a believer, let the wife, he says, teach.

Why? Because she was not deceived.

The circumstances of teaching, he says, have been reversed;

let the circumstances of mastery henceforth also be reversed.

Do you see how everywhere he shows that slavery follows not upon nature, but upon deceit and sin? Deceit, then, came to the woman at the beginning, and subjection followed upon the deceit;

afterward the deceit passed over to the man, and the subjection passed over as well.

And just as in the beginning he entrusted to the man the salvation of the woman, since he had not been deceived, saying thus, Your recourse shall be to your husband, and he shall rule over you;

so also here, in the case of the believing woman who has an unbelieving husband, he entrusts the salvation of the husband to the woman, saying:

For how do you know, O woman, whether you shall save your husband? What could be clearer than this proof, that slavery follows not upon nature but upon sin? This may be said also concerning slaves.

Were you called as a slave? Let it not trouble you.

Do you see how again he shows that slavery is a bare name, when virtue is present? But even if you are able to become free, rather make use of it—that is, rather remain in slavery.

Why? For he who was called in the Lord as a slave is the Lord's freedman.

Do you see the slavery only as far as the name, but in the reality freedom? For what cause did he let him remain a slave? That you might learn the abundance of freedom.

For just as, in the case of the three children, it was far more marvelous to preserve their bodies unharmed while the furnace remained, than to have quenched it;

so to show freedom while slavery remains is far greater and more marvelous than to abolish the slavery.

Even if you are able to become free, rather make use of it;

for you possess the truest freedom.

Do you wish to see this also in the case of rulers? Nebuchadnezzar was a king, and he kindled the furnace with great fury, and led the three children into the midst,

young men, destitute, having no protection, slaves, captives, without a city.

And what does he say? Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, that you do not serve my gods, and do not worship the golden image which I have set up? What then did they do? Behold how virtue made them, captives though they were, more kingly than the king, and showed their spirit loftier than his.

For not as though addressing a king, but as if holding converse with a subject, so they answered with all boldness.

There is no need, they say, for us to answer the king concerning this matter.

Not by words, but by deeds, will we make our demonstration.

There is a God in heaven able to deliver us.

They reminded him of the benefit shown in the case of Daniel, speaking the very words which the prophet had then spoken.

For what did that man say? There is no word of the magicians, the astrologers, the Chaldeans, which the king demands;

but there is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries.

This saying, then, they call to his remembrance, in order to make him more lenient.

And if not, be it known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, and do not worship the golden image which you have set up.

Behold the wisdom of those young men.

For in order that those then present might not condemn God for weakness, should it happen that they were cast into the furnace and died, they first confessed His power, saying, There is a God in heaven who is able to deliver us;

and in order that, on the other hand, having escaped the flame, they might not be thought to serve God for the sake of reward and recompense, they added, And if not, be it known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, and do not worship the golden image which you have set up;

at once both proclaiming the power of God, and displaying the resolve of their own soul, that no one might say of them what the devil slanderously said in the case of Job.

And what did the devil say concerning Job? That Job does not revere you for nothing;

for you have fenced about all that he has within and without.

In order, then, that no one might be able to say this concerning them also, they, taking the lead, stopped up that shameless mouth.

But, as I was saying, even if one be a captive, even if a slave, even if a stranger, even if he pass his time in a foreign land, and yet has virtue with him, he shall be more kingly than all kings.

Have you seen the slavery of women loosed, and that of household servants, and that of subjects? Come now, I will show you further that even the fear of wild beasts has been cast out.

They once cast Daniel into the pit, in that same Babylon;

but the lions did not dare to touch him.

For they saw the ancient and kingly image shining forth in him; they beheld those features which they had seen in Adam before the sin.

For coming to Adam with that same subjection, they then received their names.

And not here only, but this also came to pass in the case of the blessed Paul.

For that man too, having been cast onto the island of the barbarians, sat beside a fire warming himself;

then a viper, darting out from the sticks, fastened upon his hand.

What then happened after this? The beast fell off at once.

For since it found no sin, neither had it the strength to bite;

but just as we, whenever we wish to climb up some smooth crag, finding no handholds anywhere, fall down at once, whether there be a sea beneath or an abyss;

So too that beast, though a fire had been kindled beneath it, finding no hold upon sin, nor any place where it might fix its teeth, fell into the fire and was destroyed.

Would you have me set before you yet a third manner of defence? The first is this: that not only did those of former times sin, but also those who came after them.

The second is that those who have lived uprightly, even while dwelling in this present life, experience a lighter servitude;

or rather, they are set free from it altogether—as indeed we see in the case of women, of subjects, and of the wild beasts.

The third, after these, is that Christ, having come to us, has now promised us blessings greater than those from which they who sinned at the beginning cast us out.

For why do you lament, tell me? Because Adam by his sin cast you out of paradise? Live uprightly, then, and be zealous for virtue;

and I will open to you not paradise, but heaven itself, and I will suffer you to endure no dreadful harm from the disobedience of the first-formed man.

Do you lament that he stripped you of your dominion over the beasts? Behold, I subject even demons to you, if only you give heed.

For it is said, 'You shall tread upon serpents and scorpions, and upon all the power of the enemy.'

He did not say 'rule,' as in the case of the beasts, but 'tread upon,' thereby introducing a more emphatic dominion.

For this reason Paul also did not say, 'God shall subject Satan under your feet,' but 'God shall crush Satan under your feet.'

No longer, as before, 'He shall watch your head, and you shall watch his heel;'

but the victory is complete, the trophy is unsullied, the utter destruction of the foe, his crushing and his ruin.

Eve made you subject to your husband;

but I make you not only equal in honour to your husband, but even to the angels themselves, if you are willing.

She deprived you of the present life;

but I bestow upon you the life to come as well—that which knows no age and no death, and is filled with countless blessings.

Let no one, then, think himself wronged on account of those of former times;

for even if we should wish to go through all the things which He is about to grant, we shall find the gifts far greater than what we lost.

And from what has been said, the rest also is clear.

Adam brought in a life of toil;

Christ promised a life from which pain and sorrow and sighing have fled away, and He proclaims that He will freely grant the kingdom of heaven.

For He says, 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.'

'For I was hungry, and you gave Me to eat;'

'I was thirsty, and you gave Me to drink;'

'I was a stranger, and you took Me in;'

'I was naked, and you clothed Me;'

'I was in prison, and you came to Me.'

Shall we then, we also, hear that blessed voice? I would not strongly maintain it;

for great among us is the contempt shown toward the poor.

A season of fasting, so much exhortation and teaching of saving doctrines, continual prayers, daily assemblies—and after such great diligence, what profit? None.

For we depart from this place seeing crowds of the poor standing in rows on either side;

and as though beholding pillars, and not human bodies, so mercilessly do we hurry past them.

As though beholding lifeless statues, and not living, breathing men, so do we hasten homeward.

'For hunger compels me,' says one.

And yet, let hunger rather persuade you to stay;

for full bellies, as the proverb has it, know nothing of those that hunger;

but those who hunger, out of their own necessity, recognize also the need of another;

or rather, not even thus is it possible to perceive the whole of that need.

For you run to a table already prepared, and cannot bear to wait even a little while;

but the poor man stands until the very evening, striving and hastening to make up his daily sustenance;

and seeing the day now spent, yet the money still not made up in full—the little that suffices for that day's food—he is grieved and burns within, and is compelled to venture beyond his own strength.

For this reason they press upon us more vehemently in the evening, swearing, adjuring, lamenting, wailing, stretching out their hands, forced to a thousand other shameless acts.

For they fear lest, when all have retired homeward, they be left to wander through the city as through a desert.

And just as those who have suffered shipwreck by day, when they lay hold of a plank, hasten to reach harbour before evening, lest, night coming on while they remain outside, they meet a more grievous fate—

so too the poor, dreading hunger as though it were shipwreck, hasten before evening to gather together the money sufficient for their food, lest, when all have gone away homeward, they be left outside the harbour.

For their harbour is the hands of those who come to their aid.

But we neither are moved to pity by their misfortunes in the marketplace, nor when we have gone away home;

nay, though our table is spread before us, often laden with countless good things (if indeed one ought to call those things good which we eat to the condemnation of our own inhumanity)—yet, I say, though our table is spread before us, hearing them below passing through the narrow lanes and crying aloud in the streets, groaning in deepest darkness and in utter desolation, not even so are we bent to compassion;

But even when we have eaten our fill and are going to bed, and at that hour again hear them below crying aloud, we hurry past as though hearing a raging dog, and not a human voice;

and we give no thought to the hour—that it is now late in the night, when all are asleep, and he alone laments; nor to the smallness of his request—that he asks of us nothing more than bread, or a little money; nor to the greatness of his misfortune—that he wrestles with unremitting hunger; nor to the reverence of the suppliant—that, held fast by such great necessity, he dares neither come to the doors nor draw near, but from below, at a great distance, makes his supplication.

And if he receives, he offers up countless prayers for you;

but if he receives nothing, not even then does he utter a bitter word, nor does he revile and blaspheme those who are able to give and yet do not provide;

but just as one led away by an executioner to some unbearable punishment, and then beseeching all the passers-by, imploring them, yet meeting with no help, is dragged off to his punishment amid great inhumanity—

so too this man, as though dragged by the executioner of hunger toward the night and its unbearable sleeplessness, stretches out his hands, calling with a loud cry upon those seated above in their houses, and meeting with no kindness, is sent away mercilessly and with great cruelty.

But none of these things bends us to pity; rather, after such great inhumanity we dare to stretch out our hands to heaven, and to discourse with God concerning mercy, and to ask pardon for our own sins;

and we do not fear lest a thunderbolt be hurled down after such a prayer, after such great cruelty and inhumanity.

How, tell me, do we go to sleep and to our rest, and fear not lest in a dream this very poor man stand over you—squalid, filthy, clad in rags—and lament and wail, accusing you of your cruelty? For often I have heard many say that, having by day despised the relief of the poor, in the night they saw themselves bound with cords and dragged by the hand of the poor, torn asunder, and suffering a thousand things.

But these things are but sleep and a dream, and a temporary punishment;

but do we not fear, tell me, lest one day we behold this poor man—who now laments and cries out and wails—in the bosom of Abraham, just as that rich man once beheld Lazarus? What follows thereupon I leave to your own conscience: those bitter and inconsolable torments—how he begged for water, how he obtained not even a drop, how his tongue was scorched as in a frying pan, how, though offering much supplication, he enjoyed no pardon, and how he was tormented undyingly.

But God forbid that we should learn these things by experience; rather, having heard them through words, may we flee the threat that comes through deeds, and, being shown worthy of the kindly welcome of our forefather Abraham, may we pass into the same place as he, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be honour and glory,

and might, together with the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.