Homilies on Philippians 13

'For many walk, of whom I have often told you, and now tell you even weeping,

namely, the enemies of the cross of Christ;

whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.'

'For our citizenship is in heaven, from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall transform the body of our lowliness, that it may be fashioned like unto the body of His glory, according to the working whereby He is able even to subject all things unto Himself.'

Nothing is so unbecoming and so foreign to a Christian as to seek ease and repose;

nothing is so foreign to our calling and our warfare as to be glued fast to the present life.

Your Master was crucified, and do you seek ease? Your Master was nailed to the cross, and do you live in luxury? And where is this the mark of a noble soldier? For this reason Paul also says, 'Many walk, of whom I have often told you, and now tell you even weeping, namely, the enemies of the cross of Christ.'

Since there were some who feigned Christianity, yet lived in ease and luxury—and this is contrary to the cross—

for this reason he spoke thus in this manner.

For the cross belongs to a soul that stands ready for battle, that puts itself to death, that seeks no ease.

But those men order their lives in the very opposite way.

So that, even though they say they belong to Christ, yet they are enemies of the cross.

For surely, if they loved the cross, they would be zealous to live the crucified life.

Was not your Master impaled upon the cross? Imitate Him then in some other way, if you cannot follow His very manner.

Crucify yourself, even though no one crucifies you.

I say crucify yourself—not that you should destroy yourself (God forbid, for that would be impious), but as Paul said:

'For to me,' he says, 'the world has been crucified, and I to the world.'

If you love your Master, die His death.

Learn how great is the power of the cross, how many things it has accomplished, how many it accomplishes, how it is the security of our life.

Through it all things are brought to completion.

Baptism is through the cross (for one must receive the seal);

ordination is through the cross;

whether we are on the road, or in the house, or wherever we may be, the cross is a great good, a saving weapon, an unconquerable shield, an adversary against the devil.

Being therefore hostile to him, you bear the cross—not merely by being signed with it, but by suffering the things of the cross.

Christ knows how to call sufferings 'cross,' as when He says:

'Unless a man take up his cross, and follow Me';

that is, unless a man be prepared for death.

But these men, being ignoble and lovers of life and lovers of the body, prove to be enemies of the cross;

and everyone who is a friend of luxury and of the security here below is an enemy of the cross, in which Paul glories and to which he clings, with which he is eager to be made one, as when he says:

'I have been crucified to the world, and the world to me.'

But now he says, 'And I tell you even weeping.'

Why? Because the evil had grown intense, because such men are worthy of tears.

Truly worthy of tears are those who live in luxury, fattening the covering—that is, the body—yet taking no account of the reckoning they must one day give.

Behold, you indulge, behold, you get drunk, today and tomorrow, and for ten years and twenty and thirty and fifty and a hundred—which is impossible;

but nevertheless, if you wish, let us grant it;

what is the end? what is the gain? Nothing.

Is not, then, to live such a life worthy of tears and lamentations? God brought us into this arena that He might crown us, and we depart having accomplished nothing noble.

Paul therefore weeps over the things at which others laugh and revel;

so compassionate is he, so does he care for all men.

'Whose god,' he says, 'is their belly.'

For this reason their belly is a god to them;

this is what it means: 'Let us eat and drink.'

Do you see how great an evil luxury is? For some it is money, for others...

Are not these men also idolaters, and worse than those? 'And their glory,' he says, 'is in their shame.'

Some say that by this he indicates circumcision;

but I do not say this; rather, this is the meaning:

In the very things over which they ought to hide their faces, in these they take pride.

This is what he says elsewhere:

'What reward, then, had you at that time in the things of which you are now ashamed?' For to do shameful deeds is grievous, but to be ashamed while doing them is only half as grievous;

when, however, one even preens himself over them, it is the height of insensibility.

Were these things spoken only concerning those men, and have we who are present here escaped the charge? and is no one liable to it? does no one have his belly for a god? nor his glory in his shame? I wish—and greatly wish—that none of these things had any bearing on us, and that I knew no one guilty of what is spoken;

but I fear that it may be spoken to us rather than to those of that time.

For when a man spends his whole life in drinking-bouts and carousings, and lays out but a little upon the poor while squandering the greater part upon his belly, will not the same thing be said with reason concerning him too?

Nothing is more shaming than this expression, nothing more piercing: 'Whose god,' he says, 'is their belly, and their glory is in their shame.'

Who are these men? Those who mind earthly things, who say:

let us acquire fields—again in the earth;

let us obtain office—again in the earth;

let us attain glory—again in the earth;

let us grow rich—all of it in the earth.

These are they whose god is their belly.

For those who mind nothing spiritual, but have gained everything here and set their minds on these things, with good reason have their belly for a god, saying, 'Let us eat and drink.'

Then you grieve over the body, that it is of earth, though this in no way harms you as regards virtue;

yet while dragging your soul down to the earth by luxury, and taking no account of it, you laugh, tell me, and are dissolved in mirth? And what pardon will you obtain, disposed so unfeelingly, when it was your duty to make even the body spiritual? For it is possible, if you will.

You received a belly that you might nourish yourself, not that you might rend yourself asunder;

that you might master it, not that you might have it as a mistress;

that it might serve you for the nourishment of the other members, not that you might serve it, nor that you might overstep the bounds.

The sea, overstepping its bounds, does not work so many evils as the belly works upon our body together with the soul;

the one floods the whole inhabited world, and the other floods the whole body.

Set it a bound in contentment, just as God set the sand as a bound to the sea;

and though it surge, though it rage, rebuke it by the power that is in you.

See how God has honored you with reason, that you might imitate Him;

yet you are unwilling, but seeing it overflow and corrupting your whole nature and forming a stagnant pool, you dare not restrain it nor bring it to sobriety.

'Whose god,' he says, 'is their belly.'

Let us see how Paul served God;

let us see also how the gluttons serve their belly.

Do not these men endure ten thousand deaths? do they not dread to disobey whatever it commands? do they not render it services impossible? Are they not worse than slaves? But Paul was not such a man;

wherefore he also said, 'But our citizenship is in heaven.'

Let us, then, neither seek ease here below;

let us desire to become glorious there, where also we have our citizenship.

'From whence also,' he says, 'we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus, who shall change the body of our humiliation, that it may be fashioned like unto the body of His glory.'

Little by little he has led us upward.

'From heaven,' he says, comes our Saviour.

From the place, from the Person, he shows the majesty of the thing.

'Who shall change,' he says, 'the body of our humiliation.'

Our body now suffers much: it is bound, it is scourged, it endures countless dreadful things.

But the body of Christ also suffered just as much.

He hinted at this when he said, 'That it may be fashioned like unto the body of His glory.'

So then it is the same body, but it puts on incorruption.

So then the form too is different; or rather, he called the transformation by this term ('form') in a loose sense.

He called it 'the body of our humiliation' because it is now brought low, because it is subject to corruption and to pain, because it seems to be worthless and to have nothing more than the rest of things.

'That it may be fashioned,' he says, 'like unto the body of His glory.'

This body becomes conformed to that One, to Him who sits at the right hand of the Father.

It becomes conformed to that One who is worshipped by angels, to that One beside whom the bodiless Powers stand, to that One who is above every principality and authority and power—to that One it becomes conformed.

Then, if the whole world should take up tears and weep for those who have fallen away from this hope, would it weep worthily? For though the promise is set before us to become conformed to Him, such a one departs together with the demons! Henceforth I care nothing for hell.

Whatever you may say, I count it as nothing compared with this falling away.

What do you say, O Paul? Does it become conformed to that One? 'Yes,' he says.

Then, that you may not disbelieve, he added a reason as well.

'According to the working,' he says, 'whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto Himself.'

'He has power,' he says, 'to subdue all things—even corruption and death.'

Or rather, it is by this very same power that He does this also.

For which, tell me, belongs to greater power—to subdue angels and archangels and Cherubim and Seraphim and demons, or to make a body incorruptible and immortal? Surely this far more than that.

He has shown greater works of His power, that by these too you may believe.

Therefore, even if you see these men rejoicing, even if you see them glorified, stand firm, take no hurt from them, be in no way dismayed.

These hopes are enough to raise up even the exceedingly sluggish and drowsy man.

'Therefore, my brethren,' he says, 'dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and my crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my beloved.'

'So'—how? As you have stood, unbending.

See how, after the exhortation, come the praises.

Not simply 'joy,' but also 'glory.'

Not simply 'glory,' but also 'crown.'

And there is no glory equal to this—to be Paul's crown.

'So stand fast in the Lord, beloved.'

That is, in the hope of God.

'I beseech Euodias, and I beseech Syntyche, that they be of the same mind in the Lord.'

'And I entreat you also, true yokefellow, help these women.'

Some say that here he is entreating his own wife: 'true yokefellow.'

But it is not so; rather it is some woman, or even the husband of one of them.

'Help these women,' he says, 'who laboured with me in the gospel, with Clement also, and the rest of my fellow-labourers, whose names are in the book of life.'

Do you see how great a virtue he testifies to them? What Christ said to the apostles—'Rejoice not that the demons are subject unto you, but that your names are written in the book of life'—this same thing this man too testifies to them, saying, 'Whose names are in the book of life.'

These women seem to me to have been the chief part of the Church there; and he commends them to a man perhaps of admirable character, whom he also calls 'yokefellow.'

To whom perhaps he was accustomed to commend them, as to a fellow-labourer and soldier and partner and brother.

Which he does also in the Epistle to the Romans, saying:

'I commend unto you Phoebe our sister, who is a servant of the Church which is at Cenchreae.'

Or he thus calls some brother of theirs, or even the husband of one of them.

'Now you are a true brother, now a true husband, because you have become a member.'

'Who laboured with me in the gospel.'

Your patronage of them comes from within, not from friendship, but from their good deeds.

What do you say? Did women labour with you? 'Yes,' he says.

These women too contributed no small part.

And although there were many who laboured together with him, nevertheless in

many things these women too worked alongside him.

It was no small way, then, that the Churches were being knit together in those days.

For from the fact that the men of good repute, whether men or women, enjoyed such great honour from the rest, many good things came about.

For, first, the rest were led on to the like zeal.

Second, they also gained profit through the honour.

Third, they made those very persons more eager and more ardent.

For this reason you see Paul everywhere taking care of this matter, and commending such persons.

Which he says also in the Epistle to the Corinthians: 'Who are the firstfruits of Achaia.'

Some say that 'Syzygus' (yokefellow) was a proper name.

But whether it be this or that, one need not be too precise about it; rather, one should marvel that he bids them to enjoy so great a patronage.

All that is ours is in heaven—both our Saviour and our city, and whatever else one might name.

'From whence,' he says, 'we also look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.'

And this too belongs to His love for mankind.

He Himself comes again to us; He does not drag us up there, and, having thus taken us, depart.

And this belongs to great honour.

For if He came to us while we were enemies, much more will He come to us now that we have become friends.

He does not entrust this to angels, nor to servants, but He Himself comes upon the clouds to call us into His kingdom.

And perhaps His own people too, being honoured by Him, shall be caught up through the clouds.

'For we also,' he says, 'who honour Him shall be caught up in the clouds, and so shall we ever be with the Lord.'

Who then shall be found the faithful and wise servant? Who then are they that are counted worthy of such great good things? How pitiable are those who fall away! For if we should weep all our life long at having missed the kingdom, should we do anything worthy of it? For though you should name ten thousand hells, you would say nothing equal to that anguish which the soul then undergoes—when the whole world is shaken, when the trumpets sound, when the angels run before, first, then the second, then the third, then ten thousand ranks poured out upon the earth, then the Cherubim (and these are many and without number).

Then the Seraphim, when He comes in that ineffable glory, will come to meet Him, and those who have arrived will lead the elect into the midst;

then Paul and his company, and all who like him won approval, will be crowned, proclaimed aloud, and honoured by the King before the whole heavenly host.

For even if there were no hell, how great a thing is it that these should be honoured while those others are dishonoured! Hell is unbearable, I confess it;

yet more unbearable than hell itself is to fall away from the Kingdom.

Suppose some king, or a king's son, having gone forth and brought countless wars to a successful end, and being admired, and having a whole army at his command, were to enter some city with his chariot, with trophies, with countless ranks all clad in gold, with all the spearmen about him bearing shields of gold, and the whole city were garlanded, and all the rulers of the world were with him, and every age followed after him, behind him captives of foreign nations, prefects, satraps, consuls, tyrants, rulers;

then, amid all that splendour, he were to receive the citizens who came to meet him and kiss them, and stretch out his hand, and grant them all freedom of speech, or even, while all stood by, to converse with them as with friends, and to say that he had made all that journey for their sake, and were to lead some into his own palace but leave the others behind — how much punishment would this deserve, even if they were not punished at all? But if in the case of a man it is so bitter a thing to fall away from such glory, how much more in the case of God, when all the powers on high are present with the King, when the demons are bound and bowed down, and the devil himself is led captive, and every hostile force, when the powers of the heavens are present, when

He Himself comes upon the clouds.

Believe me, because of the anguish that grips my soul at this description, I am not even able to bring my discourse to its end.

Let us consider of how great a glory we are being deprived, when it is possible not to be deprived of it.

For this is the terrible thing, that though we are masters of not suffering these things, we suffer them.

For when He receives some and leads them to the Father into the heavens, but lets the others go, and certain angels take hold of them and drag them off unwilling and in tears and bowed down to the fire of hell, first made a public example before the whole world — how great, think you, will the anguish be? Let us therefore make haste while there is yet time, and take much thought for our own salvation.

How many such things shall we have to say, as the rich man said! If someone were now to grant us respite, we would take counsel about some of the things that profit us;

And that we shall say this is plain not from that man alone, but also from many others.

And that you may learn it: how many have fallen into a fever and said, 'If we recover ourselves, we shall no longer fall into the same things!'

Many such things shall we say then, but we shall hear the very things the rich man heard: that there is a great gulf fixed, that we have received our good things here.

Let us therefore groan bitterly, I beseech you;

or rather, let us not only groan, but also pursue virtue.

Let us mourn now for the sake of salvation, that we may not then mourn in vain;

let us weep now, and not weep then over wickedness;

this weeping belongs to virtue, that other to unprofitable repentance;

let us afflict ourselves now, that we may not then be afflicted.

It is not the same thing to be afflicted here and there.

For here you are afflicted for a brief time, or rather you do not even perceive the affliction, knowing that you are afflicted unto good;

but there the affliction is more grievous, because it is not upon hope, nor with any way out, but is without limit and unceasing.

But may it be granted us all, being delivered, to attain to rest.

But since, in order not to fall short of this, there is need of strenuous zeal and unceasing prayers, let us be zealous, I beseech you;

for if we are zealous, then by praying we also accomplish it;

if we pray earnestly, God gives.

But if we neither ask Him, nor do anything of the kind, nor labour, how is it ever possible to succeed while we sleep? By no means.

For it is a hard thing, even for those who run and strain forward and are conformed to His death, as Paul said, to be able to attain — much less for those who sleep.

And if Paul said, 'If by any means I might attain,' what shall we say? For while we sleep it is never possible to accomplish even worldly matters, much less spiritual ones;

while we sleep it is never possible to receive anything even from friends, much less from God;

while we sleep not even fathers honour us, much less God.

Let us toil a little, that we may rest for ever;

and if we are not afflicted here, this remains for us there.

Why do we not choose to be afflicted here, that we may rest there? And may it be granted us all, having lived worthily of Christ and been conformed to His death, to attain to the unspeakable good things in Christ Jesus, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.