Homilies on Philippians 3

And in this I rejoice, yea, and I will rejoice.

For I know that this shall turn to my salvation through your prayer, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope, that

in nothing shall I be put to shame, but with all boldness, as always, so now also, Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death.

Nothing among the grievous things of the present life can wound the great and philosophic soul—not enmities, not accusations, not slanders, not dangers, not plots.

For just as when it has fled to some great mountain peak, it is beyond the grasp of all who come up from below off the earth,

such was the soul of Paul, having seized a place loftier than every peak—that of spiritual philosophy, of the true wisdom.

For the things of those outside are mere words and children's playthings.

But our discourse is not now about these things; rather we utter the words of Paul for the present.

That blessed man, even while he had the emperor waging war against him, had besides this other enemies as well, grieving him in various ways, and with bitter slander;

and what does he say? Not only am I not grieved by these things, nor cast down, but I even rejoice and will rejoice;

not for a season, he says, but always shall I rejoice over these things.

For I know that this shall turn to my salvation—the salvation to come.

For how shall it not turn out so, when even the enmity against me and the zeal directed against me benefit the preaching? Through your prayer, he says, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope.

Behold the humility of this blessed man;

he was contending in the contests, he had accomplished countless deeds, he now lay near to the very crown itself;

for what more could one say? Yet he writes to the Philippians that: Through your prayer I am able to be saved—he who had acquired salvation from countless right deeds.

And the supply, he says, of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

What does 'supply' mean? If through your prayers, he says, I be counted worthy of the grace.

For the word 'supply' means this: if it be supplied, if more of the Spirit be granted to me;

Unto salvation—that is, deliverance, and I shall escape the present danger, as the first.

At my first defense no one stood with me;

but the Lord stood by me, and strengthened me.

This, at any rate, he now already prophesies, saying: Through your prayer, and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope.

For lest again we should entrust the whole to their prayers, contributing nothing ourselves, see how he sets down his own part—hope, the cause of all good things—just as the prophet says:

Let Thy mercy, O Lord, be upon us, according as we have hoped in Thee;

just as also elsewhere he says: Behold the generations of old, and see:

who hoped in the Lord, and was put to shame? And again this blessed man says: But hope maketh not ashamed.

According to my earnest expectation, he says, and hope, that in nothing shall I be put to shame.

This is Paul's hope—to hope that: Nowhere shall I be put to shame.

Do you see how great a thing it is to hope in God? Whatever may happen, he says, I shall not be put to shame;

that is, these men shall not prevail.

But with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body.

Those men were expecting through this snare, forsooth, to catch Paul, and to quench the preaching, as though their guile were prevailing.

This, then, is what he says: This shall not be, I shall not die now;

but as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body.

How so? Often did I fall into dangers, in which all despaired of us, nay, we ourselves also despaired of ourselves;

For in ourselves we had the sentence of death;

but the Lord delivered us out of all these things.

So now also Christ shall be magnified in my body.

But lest anyone suppose and say, 'If you die, will He not be magnified?' — 'Yes,' he says, 'I know it;'

'yet it was not for this reason that I spoke thus, as though life alone would magnify Him, but death also.'

For the present, however, he says, 'Through life;'

they do not take my life away; yet even if they had taken it, thus also would Christ be magnified.

How? Through life, because He delivered me;

through death, because not even death could persuade me to deny Him.

For He bestowed on me such great zeal, and made me stronger than death;

there indeed, because He rescued me from dangers;

but here, because He did not allow me to fear the tyranny of death.

Thus shall He be magnified through both life and death.

He says these things not as one about to die, but that whenever he should die, they might suffer nothing merely human.

For that it was not as one about to die that he was saying these things — which grieved them most of all — see how he consoles them on this very point, all but saying:

'I say these things,' he says, 'not as one who is going to die.'

Therefore he added as he went on:

'And having this confidence, I know that I shall remain, and shall continue with you all.'

And the phrase, 'In nothing shall I be ashamed,' means this: 'Dying brings me no shame, but rather great gain.'

Why? For I am not immortal, but I shall be more glorious than if I were even immortal;

for it is not the same thing for one who is immortal to despise death, and for one who is mortal.

So then neither is this a shame, to die now;

'In nothing shall I be ashamed,' he says, 'neither in living nor in dying;'

for both I shall bear nobly, whether to live or to die.

'But in all boldness,' he says.

'Do you see how I am not ashamed?' For if the fear of death were cutting off my boldness, then to die would be worthy of shame;

but if this, when it comes upon me, has caused me no fear, then this is no shame;

but whether I live, I shall not be ashamed through living;

or whether I die, I shall not be ashamed through dying;

for I display the same boldness in both.

For do not, because I spoke of bonds, regard the matter as a shame.

It has become to me the cause of so many good things, in that it also gave others courage.

For it is not being bound for Christ's sake, but rather, in fearing the bonds, to betray something of what belongs to Christ — this is shame;

so that, if this be not the case, the bonds themselves are procurers of boldness.

Do not, because I have often escaped dangers (and I can boast of these before the unbelievers), if no such thing should now happen, straightway suppose that I am put to shame;

for indeed this too, no less than that, gives you boldness.

See how he brings it forward in his own person;

which he does in many places elsewhere also, just as in the Epistle to the Romans, 'For I am not ashamed of the Gospel,' he says;

'And these things I have in a figure transferred to myself and Apollos.'

'Whether through life or through death.'

He says this, not as one who is ignorant of it;

for he knows that he will not die then, but afterwards;

yet he is already preparing their soul beforehand;

'For to me,' he says, 'to live is Christ, and to die is gain.'

'For even in dying,' he says, 'I shall not be dead, having life within myself.'

'Then indeed would they have destroyed me, if they had been able through fear to cast faith out of my soul;'

'but so long as Christ is with me, even if death should come, I live.'

'And in this present life too, my life is not this, but Christ.'

'If then not even in this life is this so' —

'And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live in faith;'

'And it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.'

Such ought the Christian to be.

'I do not live,' he says, 'the common life.'

How then do you live, O blessed Paul? Do you not behold the sun? Do you not breathe the common air? Are you not nourished by the same food as all men? Do you not tread the earth as we do? Do you not need sleep? Do you not need garments? Do you not need shoes? What do you mean, 'I do not live'? How do you not live? Why do you speak so loftily? These words are no vaunting.

For if the facts did not bear witness, one might reasonably say that it was mere boasting;

but if the facts do bear witness, what boasting is there? How then does he not live?

for indeed elsewhere he says, 'I have been crucified to the world, and the world to me.'

How then does he say, 'I no longer live,' and how again, 'To me to live is Christ'? Listen:

The word 'life,' beloved, has many meanings — that is, it signifies many things — as does also the word 'death.'

There is this life of the body, and there is the life of sin;

even as he himself says elsewhere:

'But if we died to sin, how shall we still live in it?' So then there is such a thing as living the life of sin;

attend closely, I beseech you, that we may not labour in vain;

there is the life that is eternal and immortal, and together with this the heavenly life;

'For our commonwealth,' he says, 'exists in the heavens.'

There is the life of the body, of which he says, 'In Him we live, and move, and have our being.'

It is not therefore the natural life that he says he does not live, but this life of sins, which all men live;

For he who does not desire the present life, how does he live it? He who hastens toward another, how does he live this one? He who despises death, how does he live it? He who desires none of the things here, how does he live it? For just as one composed of adamant, even if he be struck ten thousand times, would never be turned aside;

'And it is no longer I who live,' he says, that is, the old man;

and again elsewhere, 'Wretched man that I am!'

'who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' Thus he who does nothing for the sake of food, nothing for the sake of raiment, nothing for the sake of any of the things present — how does this man live? Such a one does not even live the natural life;

he who takes no thought for the things of this life does not live it.

It is we who live this present life, we who do all things for its sake;

For he was engaged in none of the affairs of this present world.

How then did he live? In this same way we too say of certain persons:

Such a one is not present to me, whenever he does nothing that pertains to me;

Such a one is not alive to me — again in like manner.

For that he is not disclaiming the natural life, he shows elsewhere, saying:

And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.

That is to say: I live a certain new life, one that is transformed.

All these things, then, he says for the consolation of the Philippians.

Do not suppose, he says, that I am being deprived of this present life;

for not even while living was I living this life, but that other one, which Christ willed.

For tell me: the man who despises riches, who despises luxury, hunger and thirst, dangers, health, safety — does he live this life? He who possesses nothing here, who has often been willing to cast this very life away when necessity demanded and did not cling to it — does he live this life? By no means.

But it is by means of an illustration that I must make this plain to you.

For instance, let there be someone amid great wealth, and let him possess servants and gold, yet let him make use of none of these;

does this man then enjoy that wealth? By no means.

Let him also look on while his children squander his possessions, wandering aimlessly about, and let him take no thought for any of them;

and, if you will, though he be struck, let him feel no pain;

shall we then say that he is in wealth? By no means.

So too Paul: For to me, he says, to live is Christ.

If you would examine my life, He is that life.

Why? Because I shall be more clearly united with Him;

so that to die is rather to live.

Those who kill me will do me no harm, but rather send me forward to my true life, and release me from this life which does not belong to me.

What then? While you were here, were you not Christ's?

But if to live in the flesh, this is to me the fruit of labour — and what I shall choose I know not.

If then that is life, for what reason did Christ leave you here? It is the fruit of labour, he says.

So that it is possible to use even this present life for what is needful, without living it as the many do.

He says this, so that you should not think this life is being disparaged, nor say:

For if we are of no use here, for what reason do we not

make away with ourselves and kill ourselves? By no means, he says;

for it is possible, even while here, to gain profit, if we do not live this life, but another.

Does this bear fruit for you? Yes, he says.

Where now are the heretics? Behold, he here calls the very thing, to live in the flesh, the fruit of labour;

How is it the fruit of labour? And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith.

And what I shall choose, I know not.

Ah, how great was his philosophy!

How he cast out the desire for the present life, and yet did not disparage it!

For by saying that to die is gain, thereby he cast out the desire;

and by saying that to live in the flesh is the fruit of labour, thereby he showed the present life also to be necessary.

How? If we use it for what is needful, if we bear fruit;

for if it be fruitless, it is no longer life.

For among trees too, those that bear no fruit we turn away from, just as from the withered ones, and consign them to the fire.

For living, again, is among things indifferent and of the middle sort;

but to live well or ill lies in ourselves.

For it is possible to live even well;

just as, if we should use it ill, not even so shall we disparage it.

Why? Because it is not itself the cause, but the choice of those who use it ill.

For God made you to live, that you might live for Him;

but you, having lived to sin through wickedness, make yourself answerable to every charge.

What do you say, tell me, O Paul? Do you not know what you will choose? Here he revealed a great mystery: that he was lord over his own departure;

for whenever there is a choice, we are lords.

What I shall choose, he says, I know not.

Is it then in your power? Yes, he says, if I should be willing to ask of God a grace.

For I am hard pressed between the two, having the desire.

Behold the tender affection of this blessed man;

and by this also he consoles them, when they see that he himself is lord of the choice, that this comes about not by human wickedness, but by the dispensation of God.

Why then are you grieved, he says, over my death? It were far better to have departed long ago.

For to depart, he says, and to be with Christ is far better;

but to abide in the flesh is more necessary for your sakes.

These things are preparatory to his coming death, that they may bear it nobly;

these things are instructive of true wisdom.

It is good, he says, to depart and to be with Christ;

for death, too, is among things indifferent.

For death is not an evil, but to be punished after dying is an evil;

neither is death a good, but to depart and to be with Christ is a good;

the things after death are either good or evil.

Let us not therefore mourn simply over those who die, nor rejoice simply over those who live;

but what? Let us mourn the sinners, not only when they die, but also while they live.

But let us rejoice over the righteous, not only while they live, but also when they have died.

For the former, even while living, are dead, but the latter, even having died, are alive;

the former, even while they are here, are pitiable to all, since they offend God;

These too, when they departed thither, are blessed, because they went away to Christ.

Sinners, wherever they may be, are far from the King;

but the righteous, whether here or there, are with the King—and there indeed more fully and more nearly, not by an image, not through faith, but, as it says, 'face to face.'

Let us not, then, simply weep for the dead, but for those who die in their sins;

these are worthy of lamentation, these of wailings and tears.

For what hope is there, tell me, in departing with one's sins to a place where it is not possible to put off one's sins? So long as men were here, there was perhaps much expectation that they would change, that they would become better;

but if they depart into Hades, where it is not possible to gain anything from repentance (for it says, 'In Hades, who shall confess to Thee?'), how are they not worthy of lamentation? Let us weep for those who depart in this way—I do not forbid it—let us weep, but not unseemly, not tearing our hair, not baring our arms, not disfiguring our faces, not clothing ourselves in black, but only in the

soul quietly let fall a bitter tear.

For it is possible even without this outward display to weep bitterly, and not merely to make a show;

for what is done by some differs in no way from children's play.

For those wailings in the marketplace are not out of sympathy, but for display and ambition and vainglory;

many do this as a profession.

Weep bitterly, groan at home, with no one looking on;

this is of sympathy, this also profits you.

For he who mourns another in this way will himself be far more diligent never to fall into the same things;

sin will henceforth be fearful to you.

Weep for the unbelievers, weep for those who differ in nothing from them, those who depart without illumination, those without the seal;

these are truly worthy of lamentation, these of mourning;

they are outside the palace, together with the condemned, together with those who have been sentenced.

For 'Verily I say unto you, unless one be born of water and of the Spirit, he shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.'

Weep for those who have died in wealth, and yet devised no consolation for their own souls from that wealth—those who received the power to wash away their sins, and yet were unwilling.

For these let us all weep, both privately and in common, but with decorum, but with dignity, and not so as to make a spectacle of ourselves.

For these let us weep, not one day, nor a second, but our whole life long.

This is not the tear of an irrational passion, but of tender love;

and for this reason it is also quickly quenched.

But when it arises out of the fear of God, it always abides.

Let us weep, then, for these; let us help them according to our power; let us devise for them some assistance—small indeed, yet nevertheless able to help.

How, and in what way? By praying ourselves, and by exhorting others to make prayers on their behalf, by continually giving to the poor on their behalf.

The matter has some consolation;

for hear God saying:

'I will defend this city for My own sake, and for the sake of David My servant.'

If the mere memory of a righteous man availed so much, when deeds are also done on his behalf, how shall it not avail? Not in vain were these things ordained by the apostles—that at the awe-inspiring mysteries remembrance should be made of those who have departed;

they knew that much gain accrued to them from it, much benefit.

For when the whole people stands with hands uplifted, a priestly assembly, and the awe-inspiring sacrifice lies set forth, how shall we not prevail upon God when we entreat Him on their behalf? But this concerns those who have departed in the faith;

but the catechumens are not counted worthy even of this consolation, but are deprived of all such assistance, save one alone.

What, then, is this one? It is possible to give to the poor on their behalf;

the deed produces some refreshment for them;

for God wills that we should be benefited by one another.

For why did He command us to pray for the peace and stability of the world? Why for all men? And yet here among all are robbers and grave-plunderers and thieves, and men laden with countless evils;

but nevertheless we pray for all;

for perhaps there will be some conversion among them.

As, then, we pray for the living who differ in nothing from the dead, so it is possible to pray also for those departed.

Job offered sacrifices on behalf of his children, and freed them from their sins;

'Perhaps,' it says, 'they have conceived some evil in their heart.'

Thus does one provide for his children.

He did not say, as do most men of the present day:

'I am leaving them my possessions;'

but what? 'Lest perhaps they have conceived something in their heart.'

For what profit is there in all those things remaining here? None.

'I will make the King of all merciful to them,' he says, 'and thereafter they will lack nothing;'

'for the Lord,' it says, 'is my shepherd, and I shall lack nothing.'

This is great wealth, this is a treasure;

if we have the fear of God, we lack nothing;

but if we have not this, even if we possess the kingdom itself, we are poorer than all men.

Nothing equals the man who fears the Lord;

'For the fear of the Lord,' it says, 'surpasses all things.'

Let us acquire this; for the sake of this let us do all things;

even if we must give up our life, let us not spare it; even if we must have our body cut in pieces;

let us do all things, that we may attain this fear.

For thus shall we be more abundantly supplied with all things, and shall attain the good things to come, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.