Homilies on Romans 14 part 2/2

For this is the only gift we brought to God—to believe Him when He promised the things to come; and by this way alone were we saved.

If, therefore, we lose this, we have lost the whole of our contribution.

For I ask you, he says: were you not liable to ten thousand evils? were you not in despair? were you not subject to condemnation? were not all men powerless to work your salvation? What, then, saved you? To have hoped in God alone, and to have believed Him concerning the things He promised and gave; and you had nothing further to contribute.

If, then, this saved you, hold it fast now also.

For she who bestowed on you such great good things, it is plain, will not deceive you concerning the things to come either.

For where, having taken you when you were dead and lost and captive and an enemy, she made you a friend and a son and a freeman and righteous and a joint-heir, and bestowed on you such things as no one ever even expected—

how, after such great munificence and adoption into His household, should He not receive you in what follows? Do not, then, say to me:

Again hopes, again expectations, again faith.

For thus were you saved from the beginning, and this dowry alone did you bring to the Bridegroom.

Hold it fast, therefore, and keep it.

For if you demand everything here, you have destroyed your achievement, through which you became illustrious.

'But hope that is seen is not hope;'

'for what a man sees, why does he yet hope for? But if we hope for that which we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.'

If you are going to seek everything here, what need is there of hope? What, then, is hope? To have confidence in the things to come.

For what great thing does God ask of you, when He Himself bestows all the good things entirely from His own store? One thing only He asks of you—hope—that you too may have something to contribute toward your own salvation;

which he also intimated when he went on to add:

'But if we hope for that which we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.'

For just as He crowns the one who labors and suffers hardship and toils in a thousand ways, so also does God crown the one who hopes;

for the very name of 'patience' is a name of sweat and of much endurance.

But nevertheless He has bestowed this too as a favor upon the one who hopes, that He might comfort the soul that has grown weary.

Then, showing that toward this light burden we enjoy much help, he adds:

In the same way also the Spirit helps our weaknesses.

Endurance becomes your own contribution;

but the part supplied by the Spirit is that which anoints you unto hope and, through that hope again, lightens your labours.

Then, that you may learn that this grace stands by us not only in our labours and dangers, but also cooperates with us in the things that seem to be the easiest, and everywhere brings in its own assistance, he goes on to say:

For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought.

He said these things to make manifest the great providence of the Spirit toward us, and to teach them not to suppose those things to be altogether profitable which appear so to human reasonings.

For since it was likely that they, being scourged, driven about, and suffering countless dreadful things, would seek relief and would think it profitable for them to ask this grace from God, he says:

Do not suppose that the very things which seem to you to be profitable are indeed such.

For in this very matter we stand in need of God's help;

so weak is man, and of himself nothing.

For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought.

For that the disciple might no longer be ashamed of his ignorance, he showed that the teachers also were in the same case.

For he did not say, You do not know, but, We do not know.

And that he was not speaking these things merely out of modesty, he made plain through other examples.

For unceasingly in his prayers he begged to see Rome, and yet not when he begged did he then obtain it;

and concerning the thorn given him in the flesh—that is, concerning his dangers—he besought many times, and was wholly unsuccessful;

and Moses too in the Old Testament, praying to see Palestine; and Jeremiah interceding for the Jews; and Abraham pleading for the Sodomites.

But the Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.

What is here said is obscure, because many of the miracles that then took place have now ceased.

Therefore it is necessary to teach you the condition of things at that time, and thus the discourse will henceforth be clearer.

What then was the condition at that time? God gave to all who were then baptized various gifts, which indeed were also called spirits;

For, it says, the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets.

And one had the gift of prophecy, and foretold things to come;

another the gift of wisdom, and taught the many;

another the gift of healings, and cured the sick;

another the gift of powers, and raised the dead;

another the gift of tongues, and spoke in various languages.

And besides all these there was also the gift of prayer, which too was called a spirit, and which prayed.

For since, being ignorant of many things that are profitable to us, we ask for things that are not profitable, the gift of prayer came upon some one of those then living, and he himself stood asking on behalf of all for that which was of common profit to the whole Church, and instructed the others.

So here he calls 'Spirit' both this kind of gift, and the soul that receives the gift and makes intercession to God and groans.

For he who has been counted worthy of such grace, standing with much compunction, falling down before God with many groanings according to the mind, asks the things profitable for all.

Of which even now the deacon is a symbol, when he offers up the prayers on behalf of the people.

This, then, is what Paul was making plain when he said:

The Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.

Do you see that the discourse is not about the Paraclete, but about the spiritual heart? For if this were not so, he ought to have said:

But that you may learn that the discourse is about a spiritual man who has the gift of prayer, he added:

And he who searches the hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit;

that is, of the spiritual man;

because he makes intercession for the saints according to God.

For he does not, he says, teach God as though He were ignorant, but this takes place in order that we may learn to pray for those things which we ought, and to ask from God the things that seem good to Him;

for this is the meaning of 'according to God.'

So that this took place both for the comfort of those who came, and for the best instruction;

for He who supplied both the gifts and gave the countless good things was the Paraclete.

For all these things, he says, one and the same Spirit works.

This takes place for the sake of instruction, and that the love of the Spirit may be shown, in that He condescends to such a degree.

Hence also it came about that the one who prayed was heard, because the prayer was made according to God.

Do you see by how many means He instructs them in the love toward them and the honour bestowed upon them? (Section 8)

For what has God not done for our sake? He made the world corruptible for our sake, and He will make it incorruptible for our sake;

He permitted the prophets to be ill-treated for our sake, He sent them into captivity for our sake, He suffered them to be cast into the furnace for our sake, to endure countless evils.

And He made them prophets for our sake, and apostles for our sake;

He gave up the Only-begotten for our sake, He punishes the devil for our sake.

For it says, The reproaches of them that reproached you fell upon me.

But nevertheless, though after so much we withdraw from Him, He does not forsake us, but even entreats us again, and prepares others to entreat on our behalf, that He may show us grace;

which is exactly what happened in the case of Moses.

Let me alone, and I will blot them out;

that He might move him to supplication on their behalf;

for this reason too He gave the gift of prayer.

But He did this, not that He Himself stood in need of entreaty, but that we, being simply saved, might not become the worse for it.

For this very reason He often says to them that He is reconciled for the sake of David and of such a one and such a one, contriving this very thing again, that some outward form may be added to the reconciliation;

and yet He would have appeared far more loving of mankind, if He had told them He forgave His anger not for the sake of such a one and such a one, but for His own sake.

But He was not so anxious for this as that the ground of the reconciliation might not become to those who are saved an occasion of slothfulness.

For this reason too He said to Jeremiah:

Do not pray for this people, for I will not hearken to you;

not wishing to make him cease from his petitioning (for He greatly desires our salvation), but to make those afraid;

which indeed the prophet also perceived, and did not cease from petitioning.

And that you may learn that He said these things not because He wished to turn him away, but to bring them to shame, hear what He says:

Do you not see what they themselves are doing? And when He says to the city:

Though you wash with nitre, and multiply to yourself soap, you are stained before me;

He says this not that He may cast them into despair, but that He may rouse them up unto repentance.

For just as in the case of the Ninevites, having uttered the sentence unconditionally, and not holding out good hopes, He the more terrified them and led them to repentance;

So too He acts here, both rousing those others and rendering the prophet more worthy of reverence, that in this way at least they might give ear to him.

Then, since they remained sick with an incurable disease, and were not brought to their senses even when the others had been carried away, He first exhorts them to remain there.

But when they would not endure it, and instead deserted to Egypt, this indeed He permitted; yet He asked of them that they should not, together with Egypt, desert also to impiety.

And when they would not be persuaded even of this, He sent the prophet along with them, so that they might not thereafter be utterly wrecked.

For since they had not followed Him when He called, He Himself thereafter follows after them to set them right, and to hinder them from being carried further into wickedness, just as an affectionate father does with a child that is in wretched plight in every respect, leading it about everywhere and following along beside it.

For this very reason He sent not only Jeremiah into Egypt, but also Ezekiel into Babylon.

For since they saw their own Master loving them exceedingly, they too continued to do the same.

Just as if some grateful servant should take pity on a worthless son, seeing the father grieving and beating his breast for his sake.

For what did they not suffer for their sake? They were sawn asunder, driven out, reproached, stoned, they endured countless terrible things.

And after all these things, they ran back to them again.

For Samuel too did not cease from mourning over Saul, even though he had been grievously insulted by him and had suffered irreparable wrongs.

Yet nonetheless he made no mention of any of those things.

And for the people of the Jews Jeremiah even composed written lamentations.

And when the general of the Persians offered him, with full security,

to dwell in perfect freedom wherever he wished, he preferred to a life at home the ill-treatment of his people and the misery in a foreign land.

So too Moses, forsaking the royal palace and his sojourn there, ran to share the calamities of those people.

And Daniel too remained without food for twenty-six days, straining himself with the heaviest fasting, that he might reconcile God to them.

And the three children too, while they were in the furnace and in so great a fire, offered up supplication on their behalf.

For it was surely not on behalf of their own selves, who had been saved, that they grieved;

but since they then above all thought that they had boldness, for this reason they made entreaty on their behalf.

'With a contrite soul and a spirit of humility may we be received.'

For these Joshua too rent his garments;

for these Ezekiel too lamented and bewailed, seeing them cut down;

'Let me alone, I will weep bitterly.'

And even before this, since he did not dare to ask for the complete remission of the calamities, he sought a set term, saying:

'How long, O Lord?' For the whole race of the saints is affectionate.

'Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy, bowels of mercies, kindness, humility.'

Do you see the exactness of the expression, and how He wishes us to be continually merciful? For He did not say simply, 'Show mercy,' but, 'Put on';

that just as the garment is always with us, so also should mercy be.

And He did not say simply, 'Mercy,' but, 'Bowels of mercies,' that we might imitate a natural affection.

But we do the very opposite;

and if anyone comes up asking for a single obol, we insult, we revile, we call him an impostor.

Do you not shudder, O man, do you not blush, to call one an impostor for the sake of a loaf? And even if such a one does practise imposture, for this very reason he is the more deserving of pity, that he is so pressed by hunger as to put on such a mask.

And this is an accusation against our own cruelty.

For since we cannot bear to give readily, they are compelled to devise countless contrivances, so as to outwit our inhumanity and to soften our harshness.

Besides, if he were asking for silver and gold, your suspicion would have some ground;

but if he approaches you for necessary food, why do you philosophize out of season, and scrutinize superfluous things, charging him with idleness and sloth? For if these things must be said, they must be spoken not to others, but to our own selves.

Whenever, then, you draw near to God asking forgiveness of sins, call to mind these very words, and you will know that with more justice you yourself will hear them from God, than the poor man hears them from you.

And yet God has never said these words to you, such as, 'Depart;

for you are an impostor, entering continually into church and hearing My laws, yet in the marketplace preferring gold and lust and friendship and, in short, all things to My commandments;

and now indeed you become humble, but after the prayer you are bold and cruel and inhuman;

depart therefore hence, and come no more to Me.'

For these things, and more than these, we were worthy to hear;

yet nonetheless He has never reproached us with any such thing, but both is long-suffering and fulfils all that is on His own part, and gives us more than we ask.

Considering these things, then, let us relieve the poverty of those in need, and even if they practise imposture, let us not scrutinize too closely.

For we too stand in need of such a salvation—one that comes with pardon, with loving-kindness, with much mercy.

For it is not possible, it is not possible, if we are examined strictly according to our own doings, ever to be saved; rather all must of necessity be punished and perish.

Let us not, then, become bitter judges of others, that we too may not be required to render an exact account;

for we too have sins greater than all pardon.

Therefore let us rather show mercy to those who sin unpardonably, that we too may lay up beforehand for ourselves such mercy;

and yet, however much we may lavish, we shall never be able to bring in such loving-kindness as we ourselves need from the God who loves mankind.

How then is it not absurd that we, being ourselves in need of so much, should scrutinize our fellow-servants closely, and do everything against our own selves? For you do not so much prove him unworthy of your benefaction,

as you prove your own self unworthy of God's loving-kindness.

For he who scrutinizes his fellow-servant closely will find God doing this to him much more.

Let us not then speak against our own selves, but even if they come through slothfulness, even if through idleness, let us give.

For we too sin much through slothfulness—or rather in all things through slothfulness—and God does not exact the penalty from us at once, but grants us a set term for repentance, nourishing us every day, chastening, teaching, supplying all other things, that we too may emulate this mercy of His.

Let us then put an end to this cruelty, let us cast out this savagery, seeing that we benefit ourselves rather than others.

For to these we give silver and bread and clothing, but for our own selves we lay up beforehand the greatest glory, and one that cannot be set forth in words.

For having received back our bodies incorruptible, we shall be glorified together and shall reign together with Christ;

and how great this is, we shall know hereafter—or rather, clearly indeed we shall know it from no source now;

but that, being led up from the good things among us, we may gain at least some small notion of it, I will attempt, as far as I am able, to set forth what has been said.

For tell me, if someone should promise you, being grown old and living in poverty, that he would suddenly make you young, and bring you to the very prime of your age, and render you exceedingly strong and comely above all men, and give you a kingdom over the whole earth for a thousand years, a kingdom possessing the deepest peace—what would you not choose to do and to suffer for the sake of this promise? Behold, then, Christ promises not these things, but things far greater than these.

For the difference between corruption and incorruption is not so great as that between old age and youth;

nor is the interval between the glory to come and the present as great as that between a kingdom and poverty, but as great as that between dreams and truth.

Or rather, I have as yet said nothing;

for no words are sufficient to set forth the greatness of the difference between the things that shall be and the things that are present;

and as regards time, it is not at all possible even to conceive of a difference.

For how could anyone compare with present things a life that has no end? And the interval of that peace in relation to the present is as great as the difference between peace and war;

and that of incorruption, as much as the pure pearl is better than a clod of clay;

or rather, whatever one may say, he will be able to set forth nothing.

For even if I compare the beauty of those bodies to the light of a sunbeam, or to the most brilliant lightning-flash, I shall say nothing yet worthy of that splendor.

For the sake of these things, how much money and how many bodies would it not be worth surrendering—nay rather, how many souls would it not be worth surrendering? Now, if someone were to bring you into a palace, and were to arrange for the emperor to converse with you in the presence of all, and to make you his table-companion and his intimate, you would say that you were more blessed than all men.

But when you are about to ascend into heaven, and to stand beside the King of all, and to shine in return upon the angels, and to enjoy that ineffable glory, do you hesitate whether you ought to surrender money—when, even if you had to strip off life itself, you ought rather to leap and exult and take wings for very joy?

But you, in order to gain a beginning that furnishes you with occasions for theft (for I would not call such a thing gain), even cast away what you have, and, borrowing from others if need be, you do not shrink from mortgaging even your wife and children.

Yet when the kingdom of heaven lies before you—a dominion that has no successor—and when God bids you take, not a corner-piece of earth, but heaven whole and entire, you hang back and draw away, and gape after money, and do not consider that if these portions of that heaven which lie toward us are so beautiful and delightful, how great are the things above, and the heaven of heaven? But since for the present it is not possible to see these things with the eyes of the body, ascend in thought, and standing above this heaven, look up to that heaven which is higher than this, to the boundless height, to the light that is full of awe, to the hosts of the angels, to the countless legions of the archangels, to the other bodiless powers.

And again, coming down from above, take hold of the image among us.

And sketch out the things that surround the emperor among us: such as men clothed in gold, and teams of white mules adorned with gold, and jeweled chariots, and snow-white coverlets, and plumes waving upon the chariots, and dragons figured upon silken robes, and golden shields with bosses, and from these bands stretched upward to the chariot-rails through many jewels, and horses bearing gold, and golden bridles.

But whenever we see the emperor, we no longer behold any of these things.

For he alone turns our gaze upon himself—both the purple robes, and the diadem, and the throne, and the clasp, and the sandals, and all the great splendor of his aspect.

Having therefore gathered all these things carefully, transfer your thought again from them to the things above, and to that fearful day on which Christ shall come.

For then you will not see teams of mules, nor golden chariots, nor dragons and shields, but things that are full of great awe, and that inspire such astonishment that even the bodiless powers themselves are struck with amazement.

For 'the powers of the heavens,' it says, 'shall be shaken.'

For then the whole heaven is opened, and the gates of those vaults are flung wide, and the only-begotten Son of God comes down, attended not by twenty, nor by a hundred men, but by thousands and myriads of angels and archangels, of the Cherubim, of the Seraphim, of the other powers; and all things shall be full of fear and trembling, as the earth is rent asunder, and all the men who have ever been born, from the time Adam came into being until that day, rise up from the earth and are caught up—while He appears in such great glory that even the moon and the sun and every light are hidden, being outshone by that radiance.

What discourse can set forth that blessedness, that splendor, that glory? Alas, my soul!

For indeed it comes upon me now to weep and to groan deeply, when I consider from what good things we have fallen away, from what blessedness we are estranged.

For indeed we are estranged (I speak for the present of myself), unless we accomplish something great and marvelous.

Let no one, then, speak to me here of hell.

For to fall from so great a glory is harder than any hell, and to be estranged from that portion is worse than ten thousand punishments.

But nevertheless we still gape after present things, and do not consider the craftiness of the devil, who through small things robs us of great ones, and gives clay that he may snatch away gold—nay rather, that he may snatch away heaven—and shows a shadow that he may cast us out of the truth, and creates phantoms in dreams (for such is present wealth), so that when day comes he may prove us poorer than all men.

Considering these things, then, let us at length at last flee the deceit, and pass over to the things to come.

For it is not possible to say that we were ignorant of the perishableness of the present life, since affairs cry out daily, more loudly than a trumpet, of the worthlessness that is present—the laughter, the shame, the dangers, the pits.

What defense, then, shall we have, pursuing with much zeal the things that are perilous and full of shame, but fleeing the things that are safe and that make us honorable and illustrious, and giving ourselves wholly over to the tyranny of money? For the slavery to these things is harsher than any tyranny.

And they know it, as many as have been counted worthy to be delivered from it.

In order, therefore, that you too may learn this good freedom, burst the bonds, leap away from the snare.

And let no gold lie stored in your house, but that which is more precious than ten thousand treasures—almsgiving and love of mankind in place of gold.

For this gives us boldness before God, while that pours much shame upon us, and makes the devil breathe fiercely against us.

Why then do you arm your enemy, and make him stronger? Arm your own right hand against him, and bring all the beauty of your house into your soul, and lay up all your wealth in your mind, and instead of a strongbox and a house let heaven guard your gold, and let us clothe ourselves with all these things.

For we are much better than walls, and more honorable than the pavement.

Why then, forsaking our own selves, do we empty all our zeal upon those things which we cannot take with us when we depart, and which oftentimes we cannot even keep hold of while we remain here—when it is possible so to be rich that we may appear most abundant not only here but there also? For he who carries about his fields and his houses and his gold upon his soul, wherever he appears, appears together with this wealth.

And how can this come to pass? one says. It can, and with much ease.

For if you transfer them into heaven through the hand of the poor, you will transfer everything into your own soul, so that even if death should thereafter come, no one will take them away from you, but you will depart rich there as well.

Such a treasure did Tabitha possess.

Therefore it was not the house that proclaimed her, nor the walls, nor the stones, nor the pillars, but the bodies of widows clothed by her, and tears poured forth, and death put to flight, and life restored.

Let us too prepare for ourselves such storehouses, let us build for ourselves such houses.

Thus shall we have God as our fellow-worker, and we ourselves shall be His fellow-workers.

For He indeed brought the poor from non-being into being, but you, by tending and setting them right, did not allow those thus brought forth and made to be destroyed by hunger and by the rest of their misery, and in every way you upheld the temple of God.

What could be equal to this in respect of benefit and good repute? But if you have not yet clearly understood with what an honor He has adorned you, in bidding you set poverty right, reckon this to yourself:

if He had given you such authority as to be able to set the falling heaven aright, would you not have deemed the matter an honor exceedingly surpassing you? Behold, then, He has now counted you worthy of a greater honor.

For that which is more precious to Him than the heavens, this He has entrusted to you to set right.

For among the things that are seen, nothing is equal to man in God's sight.

For indeed He made heaven and earth and sea for man's sake.

And He takes more delight in dwelling in him than in the heaven.

But nevertheless, though we know even these things, we take no care or forethought for any of God's temples, but leaving them to be neglected, we build for ourselves splendid and great houses.

For this reason we are destitute of all good things, and poorer than the very poor, because we beautify these houses, which we cannot take and depart hence, while we forsake those which we can carry away together with our own selves.

For indeed the dissolved bodies of the poor shall assuredly rise again.

And when God, who gave these commands, shall then bring them forth, He will praise those who took care of them, and will marvel that, when they were about to fall now under hunger, now under nakedness and cold, they set them right in every way.

But nevertheless, even with so many praises set before us, we still delay, and draw back from this good care.

And Christ has nowhere to lodge, but goes about a stranger and naked and hungry.

But you build suburban estates and baths and colonnaded walks and ten thousand chambers, idly and in vain, and you do not impart even a little roof to Christ, while for crows and vultures you adorn your upper chambers.

What could be worse than this madness? What more grievous than this insanity? For these are things of the utmost madness—nay rather, whatever one might call it, one will say nothing worthy of it.

But nevertheless, if we are willing, it is possible—grievous though the disease be—to beat it back; and not only possible, but even easy; and not merely easy, but far easier to be rid of this plague than of bodily ailments, inasmuch as the Physician also is greater.

Let us therefore draw Him to ourselves, and entreat Him to lay hold together with us, and let us bring in our own part—I mean, resolve and readiness.

For He will need nothing else, but if only He takes hold of these, He will bring in everything on His own part.

Let us therefore bring in our own part, that both here we may enjoy pure health, and may attain unto the good things to come;

by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, together with the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.