Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew 19

'Take heed that you do not do your alms before men, to be seen by them.'

He now banishes the most tyrannical passion of all—the frenzy and madness for vainglory that arises in those who succeed in doing right.

For at the outset He said nothing about it;

for indeed it would have been superfluous, before persuading them to do any of the things they ought, to teach about how one must do them and pursue them.

But when He had led them on into the pursuit of virtue, then at last He also cleanses the corruption that had grown up alongside it.

For this disease is not born simply of itself, but whenever we succeed in doing many of the things commanded.

It was necessary, therefore, first to plant virtue, and then to root out the passion that ravages its fruit;

namely, from fasting, and prayer, and almsgiving.

For it is especially in these good deeds that it is wont to lodge.

The Pharisee, at any rate, was puffed up from this, when he said:

'I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess;'

and in the very prayer he was vainglorious, making it for the sake of display.

For since no one else was present, he made his display to the publican, saying:

'I am not as the rest of men, nor even as this publican.' And observe how he began, discoursing as though about some beast hard to detect, and clever at stealing from him who is not very much on the alert.

'For take heed,' He says, 'to your almsgiving.'

So also Paul says to the Philippians:

For indeed the beast steals in secretly, and blows everything away noiselessly, and carries off all that is within imperceptibly.

Since, therefore, He had made much discourse concerning almsgiving, and had brought God into the midst—'Who makes His sun to rise upon the evil and the good'—and had from every side urged them on to this, and had persuaded them to abound in the liberality of their giving, He now proceeds also to remove all the things

that trouble this fair olive-tree.

'Take heed that you do not do your alms before men.'

For that which was spoken of before is God's own almsgiving.

And having said, 'Do not do it before men,' He added, 'to be seen by them.'

And it seems that the same thing is said a second time;

but if one attends carefully, it is not the same thing, but this is one thing and that another, and it carries great safeguard, and unspeakable solicitude and considerateness.

For it is possible, even when doing it before men, not to do it in order to be seen;

and again, not doing it before men, to do it in order to be seen.

Wherefore He punishes and crowns not simply the deed, but the intention.

For if this precision had not been added,

this would have made many the more reluctant about the giving of alms, because it is not everywhere and altogether possible to do it unnoticed.

Therefore, releasing you from this necessity, He determines both the loss and the reward not by the outcome of the matter, but by the purpose of the doer.

'For what do I suffer,' you say, 'if another sees?' 'It is not this that I seek,' He says, 'but your mind, and the manner of what is done.'

For He wishes to mould the soul, and to free it from every disease.

Having therefore forbidden the doing of it for display, and having taught the loss that comes from this—the doing of it vainly and to no purpose—He again rouses their spirits, reminding them of the Father and of heaven, so that He might not lay hold of them by the loss alone, but might also shame them by the remembrance of Him who begot them.

'For you have no reward,' He says, 'with your Father who is in heaven.'

And He did not even stop here, but proceeds still further, working a great deterrence through other means as well.

For just as earlier He set forth publicans and Gentiles, shaming those who imitate them by the character of the persons,

so also here He sets forth the hypocrites.

'When therefore you do alms,' He says, 'do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do.'

Not that those men had trumpets, but He wishes to display their great madness by the wording of this metaphor, thereby holding them up to ridicule and parading them.

For the outward mask was of almsgiving;

but the intention was of cruelty and inhumanity.

For they do it not in order to have mercy on their neighbours, but in order that they themselves may enjoy glory;

which was the utmost cruelty—to seek personal glory while another is perishing of hunger, and not to relieve the calamity.

It is not, then, the giving of alms, but the giving as one ought, that is required, and the giving for this reason.

Having therefore sufficiently held those men up to ridicule, and having so laid hold of them as even to shame the hearer, He again corrects the mind that is sick with such things;

and having said how one must not do it, He shows again how one must do it.

How then must one do it? 'Let not your left hand,' He says, 'know what your right hand does.'

Here again He does not hint at hands, but has put it hyperbolically.

For if it were possible, He says, to be unaware of yourself, let this be your earnest concern—even if it be possible to escape the very hands that minister the service.

Not, as some say, that one must hide it from crooked men;

for here He commanded to escape the notice of all.

Then consider also how great is the reward.

For since He had spoken of the punishment yonder, He also shows the honor that is here, urging them on from both sides and leading them up to lofty teachings.

For He persuades them to know that God is present everywhere;

and that our affairs do not come to a standstill at the present life, but that a more fearful tribunal awaits us hereafter, together with the reckonings for all we have done, and honors and punishments;

and that no one, doing anything, whether small or great, shall escape notice, even though he seem to elude men.

For all these things He hinted at when He said:

'Thy Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly';

seating for him a great and august theater, and granting him with much abundance the very thing he desires.

namely, to have certain spectators of the things done? Behold then, thou hast, not angels, nor archangels, but the God of all.

And if thou desirest to have men also as beholders, neither of this desire does He deprive thee—at the fitting

time, but rather grants it to thee with even greater superabundance.

For now, if thou display it, thou wilt be able to show it to ten and twenty, or even a hundred men only;

but if thou art zealous now to be hidden, then God Himself shall proclaim thee, with all the world present.

So that, if thou most of all wishest men to see thy good deeds, hide them now, that then all may behold them with greater honor, when God makes them manifest and exalts them and proclaims them before all.

For now those who see thee will even condemn thee as vainglorious;

but when they see thee crowned, they will not only not condemn thee, but all will marvel.

Since then it is possible both to receive a reward and to reap a greater admiration, after waiting a little while, consider how great a folly it is to fall from both of these—both to ask the reward from God, and, while God is looking on, to call men to the display of what is done.

For if one must make a display, one ought to display before the Father above all;

and especially when the Father is Lord both of crowning and of punishing.

And yet, even if there were no loss, the man who desires glory ought not, forsaking this theater, to exchange it for that of men.

For who is so wretched as, when the king is hastening to come to the viewing of his good deeds, to send him away, and instead to seat his theater with beggars and mendicants? For this reason He commands not only not to make a display, but even to be zealous to remain hidden.

For it is not the same thing not to be zealous to be seen, and to be zealous to be hidden.

'And when ye pray,' He says, 'ye shall not be as the hypocrites;

for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the broad streets.'

'Verily I say unto you, they have their reward.'

'But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret.'

Again He calls these also hypocrites, and very fittingly;

because, while pretending to pray to God, they look round about for men, wearing not the appearance of suppliants, but of ridiculous men.

For he who is about to make supplication, letting go of all others, looks to Him alone who is Lord to grant the request.

But if, forsaking Him, thou goest about wandering and carrying thine eyes everywhere, thou shalt depart with empty hands.

For this is what thou thyself didst will.

For this reason He did not say that such men shall not receive a reward, but that they 'have' it—that is, that they shall indeed receive it, but from those from whom they themselves desire it.

For it is not God who wills this; rather, He was willing to grant the recompense that comes from Himself;

but they, seeking that which comes from men, would no longer be just in receiving from Him, for whom they have done nothing.

But consider for me the lovingkindness of God, that even for the good things He asks of us, He promises to furnish a reward.

Having then reproached those who use the matter improperly—both as to place and as to disposition—and having shown them to be exceedingly ridiculous, He introduces the best manner of prayer, and again gives the reward, saying:

'Enter into thy closet.'

What then? 'Ought one not,' says he, 'to pray in the church?' Indeed one ought, and very much so, but with such a mind.

For everywhere God seeks the aim of the things done.

Since, even if thou enter into thy closet and, having shut it, do this for display, the doors are of no benefit to thee.

Observe then how here too He has laid down an exact distinction, saying, 'That they may appear unto men.'

So that even if thou shut the doors, He wishes thee to accomplish this before the shutting of the doors—namely, to shut also the doors of thy mind.

For to be delivered from vainglory is good everywhere, but most of all in prayer.

For if even without this we wander and are carried about, when we come to prayer having this disease also, when shall we hear the things spoken by ourselves? And if we ourselves, who are entreating and beseeching, do not hear, how shall we count God worthy to hear? But nevertheless there are some who, after such and so many injunctions, behave so unseemly in prayer that, even while the body is concealed, they make themselves conspicuous to all by their voice—

making themselves manifest, crying out in a disorderly rabble, and making themselves ridiculous both in bearing and in voice.

Dost thou not see that even in the marketplace, if one approaches doing such things and entreating with a shout, he will drive off the one entreated;

but if quietly and with a becoming bearing, then rather he draws to himself the one who is able to grant the favor? Let us therefore make our prayers, not with the posture of the body, nor with the crying of the voice, but with the earnestness of the mind;

nor with noise and clamor and for display, so as even to disturb those near us, but with all gentleness, and with contrition of mind, and with tears that come from within.

'But I am pained in soul,' thou sayest, 'and cannot but cry out.' And yet it belongs to him who is exceedingly pained thus to pray and to entreat, as I have said.

Since Moses too was pained, and thus prayed, and was heard;

wherefore also God said to him:

'Why criest thou unto Me?' And Hannah again, though her voice was not heard, accomplished all that she desired, because her heart cried out.

And Abel, not by keeping silence, but even when dying, prayed; and his blood sent forth a voice brighter than a trumpet.

Groan therefore, thou also, as that holy man did;

Rend, as the Prophet commanded, thy heart, and not thy garments.

Out of the depths call upon God;

for 'Out of the depths,' it says, 'have I cried unto Thee, O Lord.'

From below, from the heart, draw thy voice;

make thy prayer a mystery.

Dost thou not see that even in the royal palaces all tumult is set aside, and there is deep silence on every side? Do thou also then, as one entering into a palace—not those on earth, but those far more awful than these, those in the heavens—display great decorum.

For thou art a fellow-chorister of angels, and a partner of archangels, and dost sing together with the Seraphim.

And all these hosts display great good order, singing with much awe that mystical melody and those sacred hymns to the King of all, God.

With these, then, mingle thyself as thou prayest, and emulate their mystical array.

For thou prayest not to men, but to God who is present everywhere, who hears even before the voice, who knows the unutterable things of the mind.

If thou pray thus, thou shalt receive a great reward.

'For thy Father,' He says, 'who seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.'

He said not, 'He shall give thee as a favor,' but, 'He shall reward thee.'

For He has constituted Himself thy debtor, and even from this present life has honored thee with a great honor.

For since He Himself is invisible, He wishes thy prayer also to be such.

Then He states the very words of the prayer.

'For when ye pray,' He says, 'use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do.'

For when He was speaking about almsgiving, He removed only the plague that comes from vainglory, and added nothing further, nor did He say from what source one ought to give alms;

that is, from righteous labours, and not from plunder or from greed;

for this indeed was a thing very fully agreed upon among all.

And earlier He had already cleared this away beforehand, when He pronounced blessed those who hunger after righteousness.

But concerning prayer He adds something further as well, namely, not to use vain repetitions.

And just as there He held up the hypocrites to ridicule, so here He holds up the heathen, everywhere putting the hearer to shame most of all by the meanness of the persons.

For since, in most cases, this above all stings and cuts to the quick—to seem to be made like to men who are cast off—He turns them away from it by this means, here calling vain babbling their empty chatter;

as, for instance, whenever we ask of God things that are not fitting—power and glory, and to get the better of our enemies, and abundance of riches, and in short things that in no way concern us.

"For He knoweth," saith He, "the things of which ye have need."

Together with these things, He seems to me here to be commanding also that we should not make our prayers long;

long, however, not in respect of time, but in the multitude and the extent of the things said.

For it is right indeed to persevere in asking for the same things;

"For continuing steadfastly in prayer," saith He.

And He Himself, by that parable concerning the widow who bent to her will the merciless and cruel judge by the continual pressing of her petition, and by that concerning the friend who came at an unseasonable hour of the night, and who raised the man from his bed—

having roused him, not on account of the friendship, but on account of the importunity—He laid it down as law for all men to do nothing else but to entreat Him continually; He does not, however, bid us come to Him composing a prayer of ten thousand lines and simply reciting it.

"They think that they shall be heard for their much speaking."

"For He knoweth," saith He, "the things of which ye have need."

"And if He knoweth," saith one, "the things of which we have need, wherefore must we pray?" Not that thou mayest instruct Him, but that thou mayest prevail with Him;

that thou mayest be brought into intimacy with Him by the continuance of thy supplication, that thou mayest be made humble, that thou mayest be reminded of thy sins.

"After this manner therefore pray ye," saith He;

"Our Father which art in heaven." See how at once He raised up the hearer, and reminded him at the very outset of all the benefits.

For he who calleth God Father, by this one appellation hath confessed the remission of sins, and the doing away of punishment, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption, and adoption as sons, and inheritance, and brotherhood with the Only-begotten, and the supply of the Spirit.

For it is not possible to call God Father, unless one hath attained unto all those good things.

In a twofold manner therefore He stirs up their spirit: both by the dignity of Him who is called upon, and by the greatness of the benefits which they have enjoyed.

And when He saith, "In heaven," He saith this not as shutting God up there, but as leading the one who prays away from the earth, and fastening him to the lofty regions and to the dwellings above.

And He teacheth us also to make our prayer in common on behalf of our brethren.

For He saith not "My Father which art in heaven," but "Our Father," offering up the supplications on behalf of the common body, and nowhere looking to his own interest, but everywhere to that of his neighbour.

And by this He both takes away enmity, and quells pride, and casts out envy, and brings in love, the mother of all good things, and banishes the inequality of human affairs, and shows how great is the equality of honour between the king and the poor man, seeing that in the greatest and most necessary things we all have a common share.

For what harm comes from the lowly kinship below, when according to that which is above we are all knit together, and no one hath anything more than another—neither the rich man than the poor, nor the master than the slave, nor the ruler than the ruled, nor the king than the soldier, nor the philosopher than the barbarian, nor the wise man than the simple? For upon all He hath bestowed one nobility, having deigned to be called alike the Father of all.

Having therefore reminded us of this nobility, and of the gift from above, and of the equality of honour with our brethren, and of love, and having separated us from the earth, and fastened us to the heavens, let us see what He next commands us to ask.

For indeed the very word itself is of itself sufficient to implant the teaching of all virtue.

For he who hath called God Father, and a common Father, would justly be bound to show forth such a manner of life as not to appear unworthy of this nobility, and to render a zeal equal to the gift.

Yet He is not content with this, but adds another clause also, saying thus:

Worthy of him who calleth God Father is the prayer that asks nothing before the glory of the Father, but counts all things secondary to the praise that is offered up to Him.

For the word "Hallowed be" means this: "Be glorified."

For His own glory He hath full and complete, and abiding ever the same;

yet He bids the one who prays to ask that He may be glorified also through our life.

Which very thing He had said also before:

"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

For indeed the Seraphim also, giving glory, spake thus:

So that the word "Hallowed be" means this: "Be glorified."

"For vouchsafe unto us," saith He, "so to live purely, that through us all men may glorify Thee."

Which again is a mark of perfect wisdom, so to present a life beyond reproach to all, that each one of the beholders may render up to the Master the praise on account of these things.

And this again is the word of a grateful child: not to be fastened to the things that are seen, nor to count present things as anything great, but

to press on toward the Father, and to long after the things that are to come;

which comes of a good conscience, and of a soul set free from the affairs that are on the earth.

This very thing therefore Paul also longed after every day;

for this cause too he said, that "We ourselves also, having the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body."

For he who hath this longing can neither be puffed up by the good things of this life, nor cast down by its griefs;

but, as though sojourning in the very heavens, is set free from both kinds of inconstancy.

"Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth."

Sawest thou a most excellent sequence? For He bade us desire the things to come, and press on toward that departure;

yet, until this come to pass, He bids those who abide here meanwhile to be earnest to show forth the same manner of life as those above.

"For one ought indeed," saith He, "to desire the heavens, and the things in the heavens;

yet, even before heaven, He hath commanded us to make the earth a heaven, and, while dwelling in it, so to do and say all things as though we were living there, so that we should entreat the Master concerning these things also."

For nothing hinders us from attaining unto the exactness of the powers above, because we inhabit the earth;

but it is possible, even while dwelling here, to do all things as though we were already on high.

What He saith therefore is this:

Just as there all things come to pass without hindrance, and the angels do not in some things obey and in others disobey, but in all things yield and are persuaded—

"For mighty in strength," saith He, "are they that do His word"—

so vouchsafe unto us also, unto men, not to do Thy will by halves, but to fulfil all things even as Thou wilt.

Sawest thou how He taught us also to be modest, having shown that virtue is not of our own zeal alone,

but also of the grace from above? And again He enjoined each one of us who pray to take upon himself the care for the whole world.

For neither did He say, "Thy will be done" in me, or in us;

but, "everywhere on the earth," so that error may be done away, and truth planted, and all wickedness cast out, and virtue return, and heaven henceforth in this respect differ in nothing from earth.

"For if this should come to pass," saith He, "the things below will in no way differ from the things above, even though they be separated in nature, the earth showing us forth as other angels."

"Give us this day our daily bread."

What is "our daily bread"? The bread for the day.

"Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth";

but He was discoursing to men clothed about with flesh, and subject to the necessity of nature, and unable to have the same freedom from passion as the angels;

as to the commandments, He bids that they be performed by us in like manner, even as those beings above fulfil them;

but thereafter He also condescends to the weakness of our nature.

For, He says, I require such great strictness of conduct, yet not freedom from passion;

for the tyranny of nature does not permit it;

for it stands in need of necessary nourishment.

But consider with me how, even in the things pertaining to the body, there is much that is spiritual.

For it was not for riches, nor for luxury, nor for costly raiment, nor for any other such thing, but for bread alone that He commanded us to make our prayer—and for the bread of the day only, so that we should not be anxious about the morrow.

For this reason He added, 'our daily bread,' that is, the bread for the day.

And He was not content even with this word, but after it He added yet another, saying, 'Give us this day';

so that we might not crush ourselves further with anxiety over the coming day.

For the day whose span you do not even know whether you will see, for what reason do you endure the anxiety over it? This too, as He went on, He enjoined at greater length, saying:

Do not be anxious for the morrow.

And He wills that on every side we be well-girded and, as it were, winged, yielding to nature only so far as the necessity of need requires of us.

Then, since it comes to pass that even after the washing of regeneration we sin, showing here also His great love toward man, He bids us draw near to the God who loves mankind for the forgiveness of our sins, and to speak thus:

Forgive us our debts, as we also

forgive our debtors.

Do you see the surpassing greatness of His love toward man? After the removal of so many evils, and after a gift of unspeakable magnitude, He again deems those who sin worthy of pardon.

For that this prayer belongs to the faithful, both the laws of the Church teach, and the very opening of the prayer.

For the uninitiated could not call God 'Father.'

If, then, the prayer belongs to the faithful, and these pray asking that their sins be forgiven them, it is plain that not even after the washing is the profit of repentance taken away. For if He had not willed to show this, He would not have appointed by law that we pray thus.

But He who both reminds us of our sins, and bids us ask forgiveness, and teaches how we may obtain that forgiveness, and thereby makes the way easy—clearly, knowing and showing that even after the washing it is possible to wash away our offences, He introduced this law of supplication;

by reminding us of our sins, persuading us to be modest;

by bidding us forgive others, delivering us from all remembrance of wrongs;

and by promising, in return for these things, to grant pardon to us also, holding out good hopes before us, and training us to reflect wisely upon the unspeakable love of God toward man.

But what one ought most of all to observe is this:

that in each of the petitions spoken He made mention of entire, whole virtue, and by this same also embraced the not bearing malice (for indeed the hallowing of His name is the strictness of a perfected manner of life;

and the coming to pass of His will again signifies this very same thing;

and the being able to call God 'Father' is a demonstration of a blameless manner of life;

in all which things was comprehended also the duty of laying aside wrath toward those who have offended us).

But nevertheless He was not content with these things; rather, wishing to show how great is the earnestness He bestows upon this matter, He sets it down also expressly, and after the prayer He makes mention of no other commandment than this one, speaking thus:

'For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.'

So then, the beginning rests with us, and we ourselves are lords of the judgment that is passed concerning us.

For that not even any of the most senseless might have grounds to complain when brought to judgment, whether in a small matter or a great one, He makes you, though you are the accountable one, lord of the verdict;

and, 'As you yourself have judged for yourself,' He says, 'so do I also judge you.'

If you forgive your fellow-servant, you shall obtain the same grace from Me also;

and yet this is not equal to that.

For you forgive because you yourself stand in need, but God forgives having need of nothing;

you forgive your fellow-servant, but God forgives His servant;

you being liable for countless evils, but God being without sin.

But nevertheless even so He displays His own love toward man.

For He was indeed able, even apart from this, to forgive you all your offences; yet He desires that you should be benefited even from this, furnishing you on every side with countless occasions for gentleness and love toward man, casting out the beast-like disposition within you, quenching your wrath, and on every side cementing you to the member that is yours.

For what could you say? That you have unjustly suffered some evil at your neighbour's hand? Why, these very things are the sins to be forgiven;

since if you suffered justly, the matter is not even a sin at all.

But you too are coming to receive forgiveness of such things, and of far greater ones.

And even before the forgiveness you have enjoyed no small gift, being taught to have a humane soul, and being trained in all gentleness.

And along with these things there is laid up for you also a great reward there, namely, that no account of your offences shall be demanded of you.

Of what punishment then should we not be worthy, when, having received the authority, we betray our own salvation? And how shall we be counted worthy to be heard in other matters, when we ourselves, in the very things wherein we are lords, are unwilling to spare ourselves? 'And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.'

'For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory for ever.'

Here He plainly instructs us in our own lowliness, and puts down our swelling pride, teaching us to decline the conflicts rather than to leap upon them.

For thus both our victory will be more brilliant, and the devil's defeat more ridiculous.

For when we are dragged into it, we must stand nobly;

but otherwise we must keep quiet, and await the season of the conflicts, that we may show forth both our freedom from vainglory and our nobility.

And here He calls the devil 'the evil one,' bidding us to wage against him an implacable war, and showing that he is not such by nature.

For wickedness belongs not to the things that come by nature, but to those that come by choice.

And he is called so pre-eminently, on account of the excess of his wickedness, and because, though in nothing wronged by us, he wages against us an implacable war.

For this reason He did not even say, 'Deliver us from the evil ones,' but, 'From the evil one;'

teaching us in no case to be bitterly disposed toward our neighbours for whatever wrongs we may suffer at their hands, but to transfer our enmity from these to him, as being the author of all our evils.

Having therefore made us anxious by the remembrance of the Enemy, and having cut off all our slothfulness, He again encourages us and raises up our spirits, by reminding us of the King under whom we are ranged, and showing that He is more powerful than all.

'For Thine,' He says, 'is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory.'

Therefore, if the kingdom is His, we ought to fear no one, seeing there is none that withstands Him, nor that divides the dominion with Him.

For when He says, 'Thine is the kingdom,' He shows that even that one who wars against us is made subject to Him, even though he seem to resist, God permitting it for a while.

For he too is of the servants, even though of those that are dishonoured and have given offence;

and he would not dare to set upon any of his fellow-servants, unless he had first received the authority from above.

And why do I speak of fellow-servants? Not even against swine did he presume to venture, until He Himself gave leave;

nor against flocks nor herds, until he had received the authority from above.

Therefore, though you were ten thousand times weak, you would have good reason to be of good courage, having such a One as your King, who is able easily to accomplish all things even through you.

'And the glory for ever.'

For He not only delivers you from the terrors that assail you, but can also make you glorious and illustrious.

For as His power is great, so also is His glory unspeakable, and all His things are boundless, and of them there is no end.

Do you see how on every side He has anointed the champion, and prepared him to be of good courage? Then, as I said before, wishing to show that beyond all things He turns away from and hates the remembrance of wrongs, and that above all things He accepts the virtue opposed to this vice, even after the prayer He again reminded him of this very good work, and, drawing the hearer both from the punishment that is laid up and from the honour that is appointed, He led him on to the obedience of this commandment.

For if you forgive men, He says, your heavenly Father will also forgive you;

but if you do not forgive, neither will He forgive you.

For this reason He made mention again of the heavens and of the Father, that by this too He might shame the hearer, seeing that, though he has such a Father, he should turn savage as a beast, and, though called to heaven, should still harbour an earthly and worldly disposition.

For it is not enough to become sons by grace only, but we must be so also in our works.

And nothing makes us so like God as being forgiving toward the wicked and those who wrong us;

even as He had already taught before, when He spoke of the sun rising upon the wicked and the good.

For this very reason, in each of the petitions He commands us to make the prayers in common, saying, 'Our Father';

and, 'Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth';

and, 'Forgive us our debts';

and, 'Lead us not into temptation';

everywhere commanding us to use this plural form, so that we may not retain even a trace of anger toward our neighbour.

Of how great a punishment, then, would they be worthy, who after all this not only refuse to forgive themselves, but even call upon God to take vengeance on their enemies, and, as it were, transgress this law in the very opposite direction—and that too when He does and contrives all things so that we should not fall into strife with one another? For since love is the root of all good things, by removing whatever mars it He gathers us together from every side and knits us to one another.

There is no one—not father, not mother, not friend, nor anyone whosoever—who has loved us as has God who made us.

And this is especially plain both from the benefits He bestows each day, and from the things He enjoins.

But if you speak to me of your griefs, and pains, and the ills of life, consider how many times each day you offend Him, and you will no longer marvel even if more of these ills should come upon you;

rather, whenever you enjoy any good thing, then you will marvel and be astonished.

But as it is, we look at the calamities that befall us, yet we do not consider the offences we commit against Him each day;

whereas if we but reckoned up with exactness the sins of a single day, then we should well understand of how many evils we are guilty.

And, to pass over all else—the transgressions that each has privately committed—let me speak of those done this very day;

and yet I know not what each of us has sinned;

but nevertheless so great is the abundance of transgressions, that not even one who knew all things exactly could reckon them up even from these.

Who among us, then, has not been slothful in prayer? who has not been presumptuous? who has not been vainglorious? who has not spoken ill of his brother, or admitted an evil desire? who has not looked with unchaste eyes? who has not remembered an enemy with passion, and made his heart to swell? Now if, being in church and in a brief space of time, we have become liable to so many evils, what shall we be when we go out from hence? If in the harbour the waves are so many, when we go forth into the surging strait of evils—I mean the marketplace, and public affairs, and household cares—shall we then be able so much as to know our own selves? Yet nevertheless, for deliverance from sins so many and so great, God has given us a short and easy road, free from all toil.

For what toil is it to forgive one who has grieved you? Nay, the toil is rather in not forgiving, but in holding fast one's enmity;

whereas to be rid of one's wrath brings much relief, and is exceedingly easy for one who is willing.

For there is no need to cross the sea, nor to journey a long road, nor to pass over mountain peaks, nor to spend money, nor to strain the body; it suffices only to be willing, and all one's sins are loosed.

But if you not only refuse to forgive yourself, but even entreat God against him, what hope of salvation will you then have left, when at the very moment you must propitiate Him and beseech Him, you then provoke Him—wearing the guise of a suppliant, yet uttering the cries of a wild beast, and hurling against yourself those very darts of the Evil One? For this reason Paul too, when he made mention of prayer, sought nothing so earnestly as the keeping of this commandment;

for 'lifting up holy hands,' he says, 'without wrath and doubting.'

For if, when you have need of mercy, not even then do you lay aside your anger, but even cling to it exceedingly—and that though you know that you are thrusting the sword against yourself—when will you ever be able to become loving toward men, and to spit out this venom of the Evil One? But if you have not yet perceived the greatness of this absurdity, consider it as taking place among men, and then you will see the excess of the outrage.

For if, while you were a man, someone came to you asking to be pitied, and then, as he lay meanwhile upon the ground, he caught sight of an enemy, and, leaving off supplicating you, began to beat that man—would you not be the more provoked to anger? Reckon that this same thing happens with respect to God.

For you too, while supplicating God, in the midst break off your entreaty and strike your enemy with words, and outrage God's laws—Him who has ordained the laying aside of all anger against those who have grieved us as a good thing—and you deem it right to do the opposite of His own commands.

Is it not enough to account you worthy of punishment, that you yourself transgress the law of God, but must you also call upon Him to do this? For has He forgotten what He enjoined? Is He a man, He who spoke these things? He is God, who knows all things, and who wills that His own laws be kept with all exactness, and who is so far from doing the things you ask, that He turns away from and hates even you who say these things—yea, even for the mere saying of them—and exacts of you the uttermost penalty.

How then do you deem it right to obtain from Him the very things from which He commands you with much diligence to abstain?

But indeed there are some who have come to such a pitch of unreason, as not only to imprecate curses upon their enemies, but even to lay curses upon their enemies' children, and, if it were possible, to taste of their very flesh;

or rather, they do even taste of it.

For do not tell me this, that you have not fastened your teeth into the body of the one who grieved you;

for you have done something far worse, at least as far as depends on you, in that you deem it right that wrath be brought down from above against him, and that he be delivered to undying punishment, and be overthrown together with his whole household.

For what bites are not less grievous than these? what darts are not less bitter? Not these things did Christ teach you;

not thus did He command you to make your mouth bloody.

For such tongues are more grievous than mouths that have been made bloody from human flesh.

How then will you greet your brother? how will you touch the sacrifice? how will you taste of the Lord's blood, having so much venom upon your mind? For when you say, 'Dash him down, and overthrow his house, and destroy everything, and imprecate ten thousand ruins upon him,' you differ in nothing from a murderer—nay rather, from a man-eating beast.

Let us therefore cease from this disease and this madness, and let us show forth toward those who have grieved us the kindliness which He commanded, that we may become like our Father who is in the heavens.

And we shall cease, if we call to mind our own sins;

if we examine with exactness all our transgressions—those within, those without, those in the marketplace, those in the church.

For if for nothing else, at least for our heedlessness here we are worthy to undergo the uttermost penalty.

For while prophets are chanting, and apostles are singing hymns, and God is discoursing, we wander abroad, and bring in the tumult of worldly affairs;

and we do not render to the laws of God even so much quietness as the spectators in the theatres afford of silence to the letters of the emperor.

For there, when those letters are read, consuls and prefects and senate and people all stand upright, hearkening in quietness to what is said;

and if in the midst of that deepest quietness anyone should suddenly leap up and cry out, he, as having insulted the emperor, pays the uttermost penalty;

but here, while the letters from heaven are being read, from every side arises much tumult.

And yet He who sent these letters is far greater than this emperor, and the assembly is more august;

for it is not of men only, but also of angels;

and these victories, which the letters proclaim as glad tidings, are far more awe-inspiring than those upon earth.

Wherefore not men only, but also angels and archangels, and the hosts of the heavens, and all those on earth, are commanded to give praise.

For 'Bless the Lord,' He says, 'all His works.'

For not small are the things accomplished, but they all surpass human speech and mind and understanding.

And these things the prophets proclaim aloud each day, each of them heralding this splendid trophy in a different manner.

For one says, 'Thou hast ascended on high, Thou hast led captivity captive, and hast received gifts among men';

and, 'The Lord strong and mighty in battle.'

And another says, 'He shall divide the spoils of the strong.'

For to this end He came, that He might proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind.

And crying aloud the triumphant shout against death, He said:

'O death, where is thy victory? O Hades, where is thy sting?' And yet another again, bringing glad tidings of the deepest peace, said:

'They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into sickles.'

And one calls upon Jerusalem, saying:

'Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion, for behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, riding upon a beast of burden and a young colt.'

And another proclaims aloud His second coming also, saying thus:

'The Lord whom ye seek shall come, and who shall endure the day of His coming? Leap ye like calves loosed from their bonds.'

And yet another again, being astonished at such things, said:

'None other shall be reckoned in comparison with Him.'

Nevertheless, though these things and far more are spoken, it behooves...

And we do not even consider that we are upon the earth, but as though in the midst of a marketplace we make an uproar and cause confusion, and by conversing about matters that are nothing to us we squander the whole time of the assembly.

When, therefore, both in small things and in great, both in hearing and in action, both without and within the church, we are thus slothful, and along with all these things we even pray against our enemies, whence shall we have any hope of salvation, when to so many sins we add yet another grievous one, of equal weight with them, offering up this lawless prayer? Is it then still just to be astonished if something unexpected and painful should befall us, when rather we ought to be astonished when it does not befall us? For the one belongs to the natural sequence of events;

but the other transcends all reason and expectation.

For indeed it surpasses reason that men who have become enemies of God and who provoke Him to anger should enjoy the sun and the rains and all the other blessings—men who surpass the ferocity of wild beasts, who set themselves against one another, and who redden their tongue with the wounds inflicted on their neighbours, and this after the spiritual table, after so many benefits, after the countless commandments.

Considering these things, therefore, let us vomit forth the poison, let us dissolve our enmities, and let us make the prayers that befit us;

instead of the beastliness of demons, let us take on the gentleness of angels;

and however greatly we may have been wronged, considering our own doings and the reward laid up for us in return for this commandment, let us soften our anger and calm the waves, that we may both pass through the present life without disturbance, and, departing hence, may find such a Master there as we ourselves have been toward our fellow-servants.

But if this seems burdensome and fearful, let us make it light and desirable, and let us open wide the splendid doors of confidence toward Him;

and what we were not strong enough to accomplish by abstaining from sins, this let us accomplish by becoming gentle toward those who have sinned against us (for neither is this burdensome, nor grievous);

and by doing good to our enemies, let us lay up beforehand for ourselves abundant mercy.

For thus, both in the present life all men will love us, and above all others God will love us and crown us and account us worthy of all the good things to come;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion unto the ages of ages. Amen.