Homilies on Philippians 8

'Wherefore, my beloved, even as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.'

'For it is God who works in you both to will and to work, for His good pleasure.'

'Do all things without murmurings and disputings, that you may be blameless and harmless, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life, for a ground of boasting to me against the day of Christ.'

Exhortations ought to be made together with praises;

for in this way they also become easy to accept, when we summon those we are exhorting to their own proper zeal;

as indeed Paul did here.

'Wherefore, my beloved,' he says.

He did not say simply, 'Obey,' but first praised them, saying, 'Even as you have always obeyed';

that is, 'I exhort you to imitate not others, but your own selves.'

'Not as in my presence only, but much more in my absence.'

Why 'much more in my absence'? Then perhaps you seemed to do all things because of the honor and reverence you had for me; but now no longer so.

If then it be shown that you have now redoubled your zeal, it is shown that even then you acted not for my sake, but for God's.

'Not that you should listen to me, but that with fear and trembling you should work out your own salvation';

for it is not possible for one who lives without fear to display anything noble and admirable.

And he did not say simply 'fear,' but added 'and trembling,' which is an intensification of fear, wishing to make them more attentive.

This fear Paul himself had;

wherefore he also said, 'I fear lest by any means, having preached to others, I myself should be rejected.'

For if worldly affairs cannot be rightly managed without fear, how much more spiritual things? Tell me, I pray;

who ever learned letters without fear? Who ever became skilled in an art without fear? But if, where the devil does not lie in wait, but only sloth troubles us, we needed so much fear merely to turn back our natural indolence;

then where the warfare is so great, where the hindrances are so many, how is it possible ever to be saved without fear? And how might this fear come about? If we consider that God is present everywhere, that He hears all things, that He sees all things—not only what is done and said, but also all that is in our hearts, and all that lies in the depths of our thought;

'For He is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.'

If we thus dispose ourselves, we shall do nothing wicked, we shall say nothing, we shall think nothing amiss.

Tell me, I pray: if you stood continually near the ruler, would you not stand with fear? And how is it that, standing beside God, you laugh and lounge about, and neither fear nor shudder? Do not, then, despise His forbearance;

for He is long-suffering, leading you toward repentance;

and do not endure to do anything without believing that God is present in all things;

Whether therefore you eat, or are about to sleep, or are angry, or plunder, or indulge in luxury, or do whatsoever you do, believe that God is present, and never will you fall into laughter, never will you be kindled to wrath.

If you keep this reckoning always before you, you will always be in fear and trembling, standing as you do near the King.

The builder, even if he be experienced, even if he be a most skilled craftsman, stands with fear and trembling, dreading lest he fall from the building.

And you also have believed, you have done many good deeds, you have ascended to a height;

keep yourself in safety, and stand in fear, and hold your eye wide awake, lest you fall down from there;

for many are the spiritual forces of wickedness that wish to cast you down.

'Serve the Lord,' he says, 'with fear, and rejoice unto Him with trembling.'

And how can there be rejoicing together with trembling? This indeed is the only rejoicing.

For whenever we work some good deed, and such a deed as befits those who act in trembling, then alone do we rejoice.

'With fear and trembling work out your own salvation.'

He did not say, 'Work,' but 'Work out fully' — that is, with much diligence, with much care.

But since he said 'With fear and trembling,' and made them anxious, observe how he soothes their anxiety.

For what does he say? 'It is God who works in you.'

I said this not that you should give up, nor that you should think virtue to be something hard to attain, but that you should give heed, that you should not let yourself grow slack.

If this be so, God will accomplish all things;

for it is God who works in you.

If then He Himself works, we must supply a resolve that is always braced together, tightly bound, and undiffused.

For it is God who works in you both to will and to work.

If He Himself works in us even the willing, how is it

that he exhorts us? For if He Himself even produces the willing, you speak to us in vain when you say, 'You have obeyed';

In vain you say, 'In fear and in trembling';

I did not say it for this reason — 'For it is He who works both the willing and the working' — but because I wished to relax your anxiety.

If you are willing, then He will energize the willing.

Do not be afraid, and you will labour at nothing wearisome;

and He Himself gives us both the eagerness and the accomplishment.

For whenever we are willing, He thereafter increases our willing;

for example, I wish to work some good deed;

He energized the good deed itself, and through it He energized also the willing.

Or else he says this out of great reverence, just as when he calls our own achievements gifts of grace.

As therefore, in calling them gifts of grace, he does not thrust us out of our free will, but leaves the free will in us;

so also when he says that He works in us the willing, he does not take away from us our free will, but shows that from success in doing right we receive much eagerness toward willing.

For just as the doing comes from the doing,

so from the not-doing comes the not-doing.

Did you give alms? You were the more disposed to give.

But did you not give? You have grown the more idle.

Did you live chastely one day? You have an incitement toward the second as well.

Were you slothful? You have intensified your slothfulness;

'For the ungodly man,' he says, 'when he comes into the depth of evils, despises.'

As therefore, when he comes into the depth of evils, he despises,

so when he comes into the depth of good things, he is zealous.

For just as that man, having fallen into despair, becomes more slothful,

so this man, reflecting on the multitude of his good deeds, becomes more zealous, dreading lest he lose the whole.

that is, for love's sake, for the sake of pleasing Him, that what seems good to Him may come to pass, that it may be according to His will.

Here he shows, and makes them take courage, that He assuredly works.

For He wills us to live as He Himself desires.

And if He desires it, and toward this He Himself works, then He will assuredly bring it about;

Do you see how he does not take away the free will? 'Do all these things,' he says, 'without murmurings and disputings.'

The devil, when he cannot lead us away from doing well, contrives by another means to empty out our reward.

For he brings in either vainglory, or arrogance, or, if not this, murmuring, or, if none of these, faultfinding disputation.

See then how Paul purges these away.

He said concerning humility all that he said, doing away with arrogance;

he spoke concerning vainglory, pulling down the swelling of pride;

and elsewhere, 'Not in my presence only';

but here he speaks concerning murmuring and the faultfinding spirit.

Why then, in the case of the Corinthians, when doing away with this same passion, did he make mention also of the Israelites, whereas here he said nothing of the kind, but simply gave the command? Because there the thing had already come to pass;

wherefore he needed a more vehement blow, and a greater rebuke;

but here he exhorts them, so that it may not come to pass.

For those who had not yet sinned, it were superfluous to secure them by a more striking manner;

since even when leading them into humility, he did not set before them the example in the Gospel, where the boastful were punished, but introduced the exhortation from God, and discourses with them as with free men, as with genuine children, not as with household slaves.

For in the matter of good things, the well-disposed and noble man is led on by those who have succeeded, but the ill-disposed not by these, but by those who are punished;

the one by honour, the other by chastisement.

For this reason also, writing to the Hebrews, he spoke, bringing Esau into the midst, who for one meal sold his birthright;

and again, 'If he draw back, my soul has no pleasure in him.'

And among the Corinthians too there were many who had committed fornication;

therefore he said, 'Lest, when I come again, my God humble me among you, and I mourn over many who have sinned before and have not repented of the uncleanness and fornication and lasciviousness which they committed.'

'Blameless,' he says, 'and harmless' — that is, beyond reproach, sincere;

for murmuring brings on no small stain.

But what is 'without disputings'? Is it good, is it not good? Do not dispute, he says, even if there be toil, even if there be weariness, even if there be anything whatsoever.

He did not say, 'That you be not punished';

for punishment is laid up for the deed;

and this he made plain in the Epistle to the Corinthians;

But here he said nothing of that kind; rather, 'That ye may be,' he says, 'blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ.'

Dost thou see that he trains them not to murmur? So that to murmur is the mark of thankless and senseless slaves.

For what son, tell me, when labouring at his father's affairs, and labouring for himself, murmurs? Consider, he says, that thou labourest for thyself, that thou art gathering for thyself.

Murmuring is the peculiar mark of those who labour for others, who toil for others.

But he who gathers for himself, for what reason does he murmur? Because his wealth does not increase? But this is not so.

He who acts willingly and not under compulsion, for what reason does he murmur? It is better to do nothing at all than to do it with murmuring;

for even the deed itself that is done is thereby destroyed.

Or dost thou not see that even in our own households we are always saying this: It is better that these things be not done at all than with murmuring? And often we have chosen to be deprived of the service rendered to us rather than to endure one who murmurs? For a dreadful thing, a dreadful thing is murmuring;

since for what reason did those men pay so great a penalty? The matter is ingratitude.

He who murmurs is ungrateful to God;

and he who is ungrateful to God is therefore a blasphemer.

For in those days especially there were continual trials, and dangers following one upon another, no rest, no respite; countless terrors poured in from every side;

but now there is deep peace, now there is ease.

For what reason then dost thou murmur? Because thou art poor? But consider Job.

But because thou art sick? What then, if, conscious of as many good things and righteous deeds within thyself as that holy man was, thou didst fall sick? Consider him again: how for a long time he continued teeming with worms, sitting upon the dunghill, and scraping away the discharge;

For when much time had passed, he says, his wife said to him:

How long wilt thou hold out, saying, 'I wait yet a little while?' Speak some word against the Lord, and die.

But thy child died? What then, if thou hadst lost all thy children, and by an evil death, as he did? For ye know, ye know that it brings much consolation to sit beside the sick, to meet mouth to mouth, to close the eyes, to touch the beard, to hear the last words.

But the righteous man was accounted worthy of none of these things; instead, they were all buried together at once.

And why do I say these things? If thou thyself hadst been commanded to slay thy son and to sacrifice him and to see him burnt, as that blessed patriarch was, what wouldst thou have done? And who then was he that built the altar, laid on the wood, and bound the child? But do some reproach thee? What then wouldst thou have been, if thou hadst heard such things from friends who had come to console thee? For now indeed we have many sins, and are reproached with reason;

but in those days that true, righteous, God-fearing man, who abstained from every evil deed, heard the opposite of these things from his friends.

And what, tell me, if thou hadst heard thy wife reproaching thee, saying: 'I am a wanderer and a servant, roaming from place to place and from house to house, waiting for the sun to set, that I may rest from the pains that beset me?' For what reason dost thou say these things, O foolish woman? Surely thy husband is not the cause of them to thee? Not he, but the devil.

'Speak some word against the Lord,' she says, 'and die.'

Then, if he who lies stricken should speak and die, art thou made any lighter? There is no disease more grievous than that, though thou say it ten thousand times

that one could be within a house and under a roof;

her disease was such that it made all give up in despair.

For unless he had fallen incurably sick, he would not have sat outside the city, being worse off than those afflicted with leprosy.

For these at least enter into houses, and herd together with one another;

but he passed his nights in the open air upon the dunghill, naked, unable even to wrap a garment about himself.

For how could he? Perhaps pain would only have been added to his pains.

For 'I melt the clods of the earth,' he says, 'as I scrape away the discharge.'

His flesh bred discharge and worms, and this continually.

Dost thou see how each one of us grows numb at hearing these things? But if these things are unbearable to hear, are they bearable to see? And if they are unbearable to see, how much more to suffer?

Yet nevertheless the righteous man suffered, and not for two or three days, but for a long time, and he did not sin, not even with his lips.

What such disease canst thou name to me, having many pains? For was not this worse than being maimed? 'For I behold my food as filth,' he says.

And not only this, but that which is rest to others, namely night and sleep, this brought him no consolation, but was more grievous than any torture.

And hear him saying:

'Why dost thou frighten me with dreams, and terrify me with visions? When it is morning, I say, When will it be evening?' And suffering such things, he did not murmur.

Nor was this the only dreadful thing, but also the evil opinion held of him by the many;

for from what he was suffering, they thereafter held him to be guilty of countless evils.

This at least his friends also said to him:

'Thou hast been scourged less than thy sins deserve.'

'And the meanest men admonish me, whom I did not count worthy of my sheep-dogs.'

How was this not worse than many deaths? But though beaten on every side by so great a tempest, and though the grievous storm was rising on all sides—clouds, squall, thunderbolts, whirlwinds, hurricanes—he himself remained unmoved, as though sitting in a calm amid so great and so grievous a tempest, and he did not murmur;

and this before grace, before anything had been said concerning the resurrection, before anything concerning hell and punishment and retribution.

But we, who hear both prophets and apostles and evangelists, and behold countless examples, and have learned the doctrines concerning the resurrection, are still discontented—and that when no one could say that so many things had befallen himself.

For even if one has lost money, yet not so many sons and daughters; and if he has lost them, perhaps it was through sin;

but that man, suddenly, in the midst of his sacrifices, in the midst of his service to God—

and even if one lost children and money together in such measure—which is impossible—yet he was not also ulcerated throughout, and scraping away discharge;

and even if this too, yet he did not have those who trampled upon him and reproached him;

which is wont to sting us most of all, even more than the calamities themselves.

For if, when we have those who exhort us in our troubles and console us and hold out good hopes to us, we are yet so distressed, consider what it was to have those who reproach us.

If the saying, 'I looked for one to share my grief, and there was none, and for comforters, and I found none,' be dreadful and unbearable, how great an evil is it to find, instead of comforters, those who reproach? 'Miserable comforters are ye all,' he says.

If we were always to revolve these things in our minds, if we were to reckon upon them, nothing of our present circumstances would grieve us, as we looked to that athlete, to that adamantine soul, to that unbreakable and brazen mind;

for as though clad in a body of brass or of stone, he himself bore all things nobly and with endurance.

Considering these things, let us do all things without murmurings and disputings.

Dost thou do some good thing, and murmur? Why? Because necessity is laid upon thee? I know, he says, that many round about compel you to murmur (for this is what he hinted at, when he said, 'In the midst of a crooked and perverse generation');

but this is the wondrous thing, that even when provoked one should suffer nothing of the kind.

They shine at night, they give light in the darkness, and they are in no way impaired as to their own proper beauty, but appear even more brilliant;

but when there is light, they do not appear so.

So too dost thou, when, being among the crooked, thou remainest upright, shine forth the more;

this is the wondrous thing, to become blameless.

For that they might not say this, he himself has set it down beforehand, anticipating them.

What is the meaning of 'holding forth the word of life'? That is, being about to live, being among those who are saved.

See how immediately he sets down the prizes;

'The lights,' he says, 'hold forth the word of light;'

What is 'the word of life'? Having the seed of life, that is, having the pledge of life, holding fast life itself, that is, having the seed of life within you;

Therefore, then, all the others are dead;

for by saying this he thus made it plain;

for otherwise the others too would have held forth the word of life.

What does this mean? 'I too,' he says, 'share in your good things.'

So great is your virtue that it not only saves you, but also makes me illustrious.

What boasting is this, O blessed Paul? You are scourged, driven out, and insulted for our sake!

For this reason he says, 'Against the day of Christ,' meaning, 'I have not run in vain, nor laboured in vain.'

'But I can always boast,' he says, 'that I did not run to no purpose.'

He did not say, 'But even if I die,' just as neither did he when writing to Timothy;

for there too he used the same expression, saying, 'For I am already being poured out as a drink offering.'

And he does this to comfort them concerning his own end, and to teach them to bear gladly a death endured for Christ.

'I am becoming,' he says, 'as it were a drink offering and a sacrifice.'

He calls their offering-up a sacrifice.

Therefore it is far better to offer up a soul than to offer up an ox.

'If then, in addition to this offering, I also give myself,' he says, 'as it were a drink offering, I rejoice,' he says, 'in my own death;'

for this is what he hints at when he says:

'Upon the sacrifice and service of your faith I rejoice, and rejoice together with you all;'

'and in the same way do you also rejoice and rejoice together with me.'

Why do you rejoice together with them? Do you see how he shows that they ought to rejoice? 'I rejoice, then,' he says, 'because I am becoming a drink offering;'

'and I rejoice together with you, because I have offered up a sacrifice.'

'And do you also rejoice and rejoice together in the same way, because I have been offered up.'

'Rejoice together with me,' he says, 'as I rejoice over my own death.'

The end of the righteous, then, is not worthy of tears, but of joy.

If they themselves rejoice, we ought to rejoice together with them;

for it is indeed absurd that, while they rejoice, we should weep.

'But we long for their companionship,' one says.

Observe, then, what he charges the Philippians: 'Rejoice together with me and rejoice;'

and do you still long for companionship? If you yourself were going to remain here, you would have reason to speak thus;

but if a little while later you too will overtake the one who has departed, what sort of companionship do you seek? For one longs for companionship when he is to be separated forever;

but if he is to travel the same road as you, what kind of companionship do you seek? Why do we not weep over those who are away on journeys? Do we not, after weeping a little, cease immediately after the first day or the second? If you long for companionship, weep only so much as to show your nature;

and after that, rejoice, just as Paul says: 'I suffer nothing dreadful, but rather I rejoice as I depart to Christ;'

'and do you also rejoice, rejoice together with me,' he says.

Let us too, therefore, rejoice whenever we see a righteous man dying, or rather even when we see one of those who had been despaired of.

For the one departs to receive the reward of his labours, while the other has cut short some of his sins.

'But perhaps,' one says, 'he might have changed had he lived.'

But God would not have taken him, if indeed he was going to change.

For He who orders all things for our salvation, why would He not have allowed him to remain if he were about to become well-pleasing? If He lets go those who do not change, much more those who do change.

On every side, then, let wailing be cut off from us; on every side let lamentation be dissolved;

in all things let us give thanks to God, let us do everything without murmurings;

let us be glad, let us in all things become well-pleasing to Him, that we may also attain the good things to come,

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 the ages of ages.