Homilies on Philippians 12

Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended.

But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Nothing so empties and puffs up right achievements as the memory of the good deeds we have wrought.

For it breeds two evils: it makes men more slothful, and it lifts them up into arrogance.

Therefore Paul, since he knew that our nature is quickly inclined to sloth, and since he had also praised the Philippians in many respects, see how he curbs their pride—by many other means above, but chiefly by the present passage.

By saying what? Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended.

But if Paul has not yet apprehended, and is not yet confident concerning the resurrection nor concerning the things to come,

then hardly would those men, who had not accomplished even a fraction of what he had, have acted in such a way.

'I consider that I have not yet apprehended the whole of virtue,' he says,

speaking thus as if one were to say of a runner, 'He has not yet reached the goal.'

'I have not yet accomplished the whole,' he says.

But if he says elsewhere, 'I have fought the good fight,' and here, 'I count not myself yet to have apprehended,' whoever reads both passages will well understand the reason both of those words and of these.

For one must not continually turn over the same things and explain everything to us—including that he said those words much earlier, and these near the end.

'I count not myself yet to have apprehended,' he says, 'but this one thing I do—I reach forth unto the things which are before.'

For this is what he means: 'This one thing—forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.'

See how, in saying this, he made clear what it was that caused him to reach forth unto the things which are before.

For he who thinks himself already perfected, and that he lacks nothing for the accomplishment of virtue, would indeed cease running, as having apprehended the whole;

but he who still thinks himself far from the finish will never cease running.

This, then, we must always reckon, even though we accomplish ten thousand good deeds.

For if Paul, after ten thousand deaths, after so many dangers, reckoned thus, how much more should we!

'Yet I did not slacken,' he says, 'because after running so far I had not prevailed; nor did I despair, but I still run, I still contend;'

'this alone I aim at—that I may make progress.'

So must we also do—forget our achievements, and leave them behind.

For the runner too does not reckon how many laps he has finished, but how many remain.

Let us reckon, not how much of virtue we have accomplished, but how much remains for us.

For what does the accomplishment profit us, when what remains is not added to it? And he did not say, 'I do not reckon,' nor 'I do not remember,' but 'Forgetting'—making us more attentive.

For thus we become vigorous, when we take up all our eagerness for what remains, when we consign those past things to forgetfulness.

'Reaching forth,' he says—before we arrive, we are eager to seize it.

For he that reaches forth is this man: the one who, though his feet are running, is eager to have them outstrip the rest of the body, stretching himself forward and extending his hands, that he may accomplish something more of the course.

And this comes from great eagerness, from great ardor.

So must the runner run—with such diligence, with such eagerness, not slackened.

And as great as is the distance between one who runs thus and one who lies flat on his back, so great is the distance between Paul and us.

He died daily; daily he won approval;

there was no season, no time, in which his course did not increase for him;

he did not merely wish to receive, but to snatch the prize;

on high stands He who gives the prize; on high lies the prize.

See how great a distance this is to traverse; see how great the height;

thither one must fly with the wings of the Spirit;

for otherwise there is no way to cleave this height.

Together with the body one must journey thither;

'For our conversation,' he says, 'is in heaven;'

Do you see how runners live by rule? how they admit nothing of the things that sap their strength? how they contend every day in the wrestling-school under a trainer and by rule? Imitate these men yourself—nay, rather display even greater eagerness;

for many are the things that sap the strength;

make it nimble-limbed for the foot-race;

for this is not a matter of nature, but of choice.

Let us make it light, that the remaining burden may not hinder the swiftness of the feet;

teach the feet to be sure;

for if you fall, you have lost much.

Yet even if you fall, rise up again;

Never attempt slippery affairs, and you will not fall;

keep the head up, keep the eye aloft.

This too the trainers charge their runners:

But if you look downward, you have fallen, you are undone.

Look up, where the prize is;

the very sight of the prize makes the resolve greater;

the hope of the tribulation does not let one feel the toils, and makes the length appear short.

What is the prize? Not a palm branch, but what? The kingdom of heaven, everlasting rest, glory with Christ, an inheritance, brotherhood, ten thousand good things which cannot be told.

It is not possible to describe the beauty of that prize;

he alone knows it who possesses it, and he who is about to receive it.

It is not of gold, it is not set with precious stones;

Gold is but mire compared to that prize;

precious stones are but brick beside the beauty of that prize.

If, possessing that, you depart into heaven, you will be able to walk there with great honor, and angels will reverence you as you bear this prize;

you will approach all with great boldness.

'This I do in Christ Jesus,' he says.

For it is not possible, apart from His aid, to traverse so great a distance;

great is the help needed, great the alliance.

Below He willed you to contend, but above He crowns you;

not as here, where the contest is, there also the crown, but this crown is in that resplendent place.

Do you not see, even in this present world, that those athletes and charioteers who are most highly honored are not crowned down below in the stadium, but the king summons them up above and crowns them there? So it is here also:

it is into heaven that you receive the prize.

"Let us, therefore, as many as are perfect," he says, "be thus minded."

"And if in anything you are otherwise minded, this also God shall reveal to you."

What is this? That we must forget the things behind;

so that it belongs to the perfect man not to consider himself to be perfect.

How then do you say, "As many as are perfect"? For tell me, do we hold this which you hold? For if you have not attained, nor been made perfect, how do you bid the perfect to be minded of this which you yourself are minded of, though you are not yet perfect? For this itself, he says, is perfection. "And if in anything you are otherwise minded, this also God shall reveal to you."

That is to say: But if anyone supposes that he has accomplished the whole—

yet he did not put it thus, but rather in this way:

"And if in anything you are otherwise minded, this also God shall reveal to you."

Observe how guardedly he says this;

that is: God will persuade you—not simply teach you.

For Paul indeed taught, but it was God who moved them inwardly.

And he did not say "He will move you," but "He will reveal," so that the matter might rather seem to be one of ignorance.

These things are said not concerning doctrines, but concerning perfection of life, and about not considering oneself to be perfect.

For he who supposes that he has grasped the whole possesses nothing.

"Nevertheless, so far as we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us be of the same mind."

"Nevertheless, so far as we have already attained"—what does this mean? For the present, he says, let us hold fast what we have accomplished: that which pertains to love, to concord, to peace;

"So far as we have attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us be of the same mind."

that is: This has already been accomplished by us.

Do you see that he means his precepts to be a rule? A rule admits neither addition nor subtraction, since it thereby loses its being a rule.

that is, by the same faith, by the same definition.

"Brethren, be imitators of me, and mark those who so walk, even as you have us for an example."

Above he had said, "Beware of the dogs," and led them away from those men;

now he brings them, for the rest, to those whom they ought to imitate.

If anyone wishes to imitate us, he says—if anyone wishes to tread the same road—let him give heed to these;

and if I am not present, yet you know the manner of my walking—that is, of the conduct of my life.

For he taught not by words alone, but also by deeds;

just as in a chorus and in an army the rest must imitate the leader of the chorus and the general, and so march in good order;

for it is possible for order to be dissolved even by a single standing apart.

So then the apostles were a pattern, preserving a certain archetypal image.

Consider how exactly ordered their life was, so that they were set forth as an archetype and example, and as living laws.

For whatever the Scriptures said, these men made plain to all through their deeds.

This is the best kind of teaching;

thus will the teacher be able to lead his disciple onward.

But if he himself speaks and philosophizes, while by his works he does the contrary, he is not yet a teacher.

For this too is easy for the disciple—to philosophize in words;

but there is need of admonition and training through works;

for this both makes the teacher venerable and disposes the disciple to yield.

How so? For when he sees him philosophizing in words only, he will say that he has enjoined impossible things;

and that they are impossible, the teacher himself is the first to show, by not practising them.

But if he sees virtue perfected through works, he could not say these things.

Nevertheless, even if the teacher's life be neglectful, let us give heed to ourselves, and let us hearken to the prophet who says, "They shall all be taught of God";

and, "They shall not teach every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord; for all shall know Me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them."

You have no virtuous teacher? Yet you have the true Teacher, whom alone it is fitting to call Teacher;

it was He who said, "Learn of Me, for I am meek."

Give heed then not to the teacher, but to Him and to His lessons;

conform yourself to that model.

Countless are the images of virtuous lives set forth in the Scriptures;

for instance, if you will, come, after the Teacher, to the disciples;

the one shone through the possession of nothing, the other through wealth;

for instance, Elijah through possessing nothing, Abraham through wealth;

whichever you deem the lighter and the more suited to you, come to that one.

Again, the one through marriage, the other through virginity;

Abraham through marriage, that other through virginity;

for each of these leads toward heaven.

The one through fasting—John; the other without fasting—Job.

Again, this same man had care for wife and children and daughters and household, and possessed much wealth;

the other possessed nothing, except his garment of hair.

And why do I speak of house and wealth and possessions, when it is possible to lay hold of virtue even while dwelling in a palace? For the royal household might be found busier than any private house whatsoever.

David, then, shone forth in his kingdom, and neither the purple robe nor the diadem unnerved him;

another was entrusted with the leadership of a whole people—I mean Moses—which is indeed the harder thing.

For here the authority was greater, whence also the difficulty became the greater.

You have seen men well approved in wealth, you have seen them also in poverty; you have seen them in marriage, you have seen them also in virginity;

behold now, on the contrary, men who perished both in marriage and in virginity, and in wealth and in poverty;

for instance, in marriage many of mankind perished, such as Samson—yet not because of the marriage, but because of his own choice;

and in virginity, such as the five virgins;

in wealth, the rich man who overlooked Lazarus; in poverty, countless men even now perish as paupers.

I show you many who perished in a kingdom, in the leadership of a people.

But do you wish to see men saved even in the military order also? Behold Cornelius;

And in the stewardship of a household? Consider the eunuch of the Ethiopian queen.

Thus, if in every respect we use wealth as we ought, nothing will destroy us;

but if we do not, everything will destroy us—royalty, poverty, and wealth alike.

The sober-minded man, however, nothing shall be able to harm.

For tell me, what harm did captivity do? None at all.

For consider with me Joseph, who became a slave and yet preserved his virtue;

consider with me Daniel and the three young men, who were made captives, and how much the more brightly they shone.

For everywhere virtue shines forth, and is unconquerable, and nothing can hinder it.

Why do I speak of poverty, and captivity, and slavery? Not even famine, nor ulceration, nor disease can harm it;

for disease is more grievous than slavery.

Such was Lazarus, such was Job, and such too was Timothy, who was beset by frequent infirmities.

Do you see that nothing can prevail over virtue? Not wealth, not poverty, not rule, not being ruled, not the management of affairs, not disease, not dishonour, not being cast out;

but leaving all these things below upon the earth, it presses on toward heaven.

Only let the soul be noble, and there is nothing to prevent it from being virtuous.

For when the workman is strong, none of the outward things hinders him.

And indeed so it is with the crafts also: when the craftsman is experienced and enduring and master of his whole art, then, even if disease come upon him, he retains it; even if he be poor, he retains it; whether he have his tool in hand or not, whether he work or work not, he is in no way the loser;

for the knowledge is within him.

So too the virtuous man, who is devoted to God: whether you cast him into wealth, he displays his virtue; whether into poverty, likewise; whether into sickness, or into health, or into glory, or into dishonour.

Did not the apostles pass through all these things? 'Through glory,' he says, 'and dishonour, through evil report and good report.'

This is what makes an athlete: to be fit for all things;

such also is the nature of virtue.

But if you say, 'I cannot preside

over many, I ought to live in solitude,' you have insulted virtue;

for virtue can avail itself of all conditions and shine through them, if only it be present in the soul.

Is there famine? Is there abundance? For in these virtue displays its own strength, even as Paul says: 'I know both how to abound and how to suffer need.'

Was it needful to work? He was not ashamed, but worked for two years.

Was it needful to endure famine? He was not consumed with anxiety, nor did he waver.

Was it needful to die? He did not become abject;

in all things he displayed his noble spirit and his art.

Him, then, let us emulate, and there will be no occasion of grief for us.

For what, tell me, could grieve such a man? Nothing.

So long as no one takes this from us, we shall be more blessed than all men—and that here, not only there.

For let the virtuous man have both a wife and children and possessions and much glory;

in the midst of all these he remains equally virtuous;

take these away, and he will again be equally virtuous, neither overwhelmed by afflictions nor puffed up by prosperity;

but like a rock, whether the sea rages or is calm, it stands unmoved and unaffected alike, neither shattered by the waves nor undergoing any change by reason of the calm;

so also the steadfast soul stands firm and secure both in calm and amid the waves.

And just as the little children on board a ship are thrown into confusion, while the pilot sits laughing and unmoved, beholding their tumult and taking delight in it;

so also the philosophic soul, when all others are thrown into confusion and, again, laugh unseasonably amid the changes of affairs, itself sits as upon some height and at the helm of godly reverence, unmoved.

For what, tell me, can disturb a reverent soul? Death? But it knows this to be the beginning of a better life.

But poverty? But this works together with it toward virtue.

But disease? But it counts it as nothing even when present.

Why do I speak of disease? Neither ease nor affliction moves it;

for it has already afflicted itself beforehand.

But dishonour? But the whole world has been crucified to it.

But the loss of children? But it does not fear;

for when it is fully assured concerning the resurrection, what can lay hold of it? Nothing at all.

But does wealth exalt it? By no means;

for it knows that riches are nothing.

But glory? But it has been taught that all the glory of man is as the flower of the grass.

But luxury? But it has heard Paul saying that 'she that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.'

When, therefore, it is neither inflamed nor contracted, what could equal this health? But the other souls are not so; rather, they change more often than the sea and the chameleon.

So that it is a great matter for laughter when you see the same man now laughing, now weeping, now anxious, now poured out beyond all measure.

And indeed Paul says, 'Be not conformed to this world,' for no other reason than that we have our citizenship in heaven, where there is no change.

Prizes that change not have been promised to us;

let us therefore display such a manner of life, and let us receive the good things even now from here.

Why do we cast ourselves into a whirlpool, and into surge, and into storm, and into tempest? Let us come into calm.

It does not depend on wealth, nor on poverty, nor on glory, nor on dishonour, nor on disease, nor on health, nor on weakness, but all these things depend on our own soul.

If it be steadfast and well trained in the knowledge of virtue, all things will be easy for it.

And even from here it will already behold its rest, and the fair haven, and, departing thither, it will attain to countless good things;

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 ages of ages. Amen.