Homilies on Romans 5

'Even as they did not see fit to keep God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not fitting.'

That he might not seem to be hinting merely at these men, having dwelt at length upon the subject of the love of boys, he now passed on to other kinds of sins;

and for this reason he carries on all the discourse under the persons of others.

And just as one always discoursing with the faithful about sins, and wishing to show these to be things to be shunned, he brings the Gentiles into the midst, saying:

'Not in the passion of lust, even as the rest of the Gentiles who do not know God;'

and again, 'Do not sorrow, as the rest who have no hope;'

so also here he shows the sins to be those men's own, and strips them of all excuse;

for he says that these audacious deeds spring not from ignorance, but from deliberate practice.

And he did not say, 'Even as they knew not,' but, 'Even as they did not see fit to keep God in their knowledge;'

saying that the sin was one of corrupted judgment and rather of contentiousness, not of being swept away; and showing that the sins are not of the flesh, as certain of the heretics assert, but of the mind and of the wicked desire, and that the fountain of the evils is from there.

For since the mind became reprobate, everything thereafter was dragged along and overturned, the charioteer being corrupted.

'Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, malice.'

For indeed he says they were 'filled,' and 'with all.'

And having named vice in a general way, he goes on also to its particulars, and these with exaggeration, saying, 'Full of envy, murder.' For this comes from that, as was shown in the case of Abel and of Joseph.

Then, having said, 'Strife, deceit, malignity, whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, insolent,' and having set in the rank of accusations even those things which seem to many to be indifferent, he again heightens the charge, ascending to the very citadel of the evils, and saying, 'Boasters.'

For to be high-minded even while sinning is more grievous than the sinning itself;

and therefore he lays this very thing to the charge of the Corinthians also, saying:

'And you are puffed up.'

For if one who is puffed up over a good deed loses the whole, how great a punishment would he not deserve who does this together with sins? For such a one will no longer even be able to repent.

Then he says, 'Inventors of evil things;'

showing that they were not content even with the evils already existing, but also invented others;

which again was the mark of men who practiced and made it their study, not of men swept away and dragged along.

And having spoken of vice part by part, and having shown that they set themselves against nature itself as well (for he says, 'Disobedient to parents'), he then proceeds to the very root of so great a plague, calling them 'Without natural affection, implacable.'

For this too Christ declares to be the cause of wickedness, saying:

'When iniquity abounds, love shall grow cold.'

This then is what Paul too says here, calling them 'Covenant-breakers, without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful,' and showing that they betrayed even the very gift of nature.

For we have also a certain natural kinship one toward another, which even wild beasts possess toward one another.

'For every living creature,' it says, 'loves its like, and man his neighbor.'

But these men became fiercer even than those beasts.

By these words, then, he has set before us the disease which came upon the world from wicked doctrines, and has clearly shown that each malady was an infirmity arising from the slothfulness of the sick.

And he shows, as he did in the matter of doctrines, that here too they are deprived of pardon;

'Who, knowing the ordinance of God, that they which practice such things are worthy of death, not only do them, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.'

Having set down two objections, he here does away with both of them at the outset.

For what could you say, he asks? That you do not know what ought to be done? Yet even if you did not know, you yourself are to blame, you who forsook the God who made himself known to you;

but as it is, we show by many proofs that you did know, and that you transgress willingly.

But are you dragged along by the passion? Why then do you also cooperate and give your praise? For they not only do these things, he says, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.

Having therefore first set down the more grievous and unpardonable sin, that he might take him captive (for the one who praises the sin is far more grievous even than the one who commits it),

having then first said this, by means of it he again more vehemently masters him in what follows, speaking thus:

'Therefore you are without excuse, O man, whosoever you are that judges;'

'for in that in which you judge another, you condemn yourself.'

He said these things directing his words against the rulers, since that city too had at that time been entrusted with the government of the whole world.

Whoever you may be, you strip yourself of all defense;

for when you condemn the adulterer, while you yourself also commit adultery, then even though no human being sits in judgment upon you, in your verdict concerning the guilty party you have pronounced sentence against yourself as well.

For we know that the judgment of God is according to truth against those who practice such things.

For lest anyone should say, 'Thus far I have escaped,' he strikes him with fear, saying that it is not the same with God as it is here.

For here on earth one man is punished, while another, doing the very same things, escapes;

That the one who judges knows what is just, he has stated;

but whence he knows it, he did not further add;

For in the case of impiety he shows both points—both that, knowing God, they were impious, and whence they knew, namely from the creation.

For since it was not evident to all, he stated the cause as well;

but here, as being a thing already acknowledged, he passes it by.

And when he says, 'Every one who judges,' he is conversing not with the rulers alone, but also with private individuals and with subjects.

For indeed all men, even if they do not

possess a throne, nor executioners and the rod, nevertheless they too judge those who sin—in their discussions, in their common gatherings, and by the verdict of conscience;

and no one would dare to say that the adulterer is not worthy of punishment.

But, one says, they condemn others, not themselves.

For this very reason he rises up vehemently against them, saying:

'And do you reckon this, O man, you who judge those who practice such things while doing them yourself, that you shall escape the judgment of God?' For since he had shown that the sin of the whole world was great—from their doctrines, from their deeds, and that they were wise, and that they had the creation to guide them by the hand, and that not only by forsaking God, but also by choosing the likenesses of creeping things, and by dishonoring virtue, and by deserting to wickedness though their nature drew them back from it, and by being contrary to nature—he now proceeds to show that those who practice such things are also punished.

Now he had already shown one punishment, when he named the deed itself;

For 'they receive in themselves,' he says, 'the recompense of their error which was due';

but since they do not perceive that one, he named another also, which they most greatly dread.

Indeed, he had for the most part already shown this one too;

for when he says that 'the judgment of God is according to truth,' he means nothing else but this;

yet besides, he establishes it again from many other considerations as well, speaking thus:

'O man, you who judge those who practice such things while doing them yourself, that you shall escape the judgment of God?'

'You did not escape your own judgment, and shall you escape God's? And who could say such a thing? And yet it was you who judged yourself.'

But since so great was the strictness of the tribunal that you could not spare even yourself, how shall God, who is without sin, who is just beyond all measure, not do this far more? Will you have condemned yourself, while God will accept you and praise you? And how could this stand to reason? Nay, you are yourself most worthy of a greater punishment than the one whom you condemn.

For it is not one and the same thing simply to sin, and to sin again by falling into the very same offenses after having punished another who committed them.

Do you see how he heightened the charge? 'For if you,' he says, 'punish the one who has sinned less, though you thereby put yourself to shame, how shall God not condemn and sentence far more severely you who have committed the greater transgression—and that too without being about to shame Himself—since you are already condemned by your own reasonings? But if you say, 'I know indeed that I am worthy of punishment, yet because of His long-suffering you despise Him, and because you have not paid the penalty on the spot you grow bold,'

you would for this very reason be justly bound to fear and to tremble.

For it is not that you should not pay the penalty, but that you should pay a heavier one—if you remain uncorrected—that He defers it;

which may it never befall you.

'Or do you despise the riches of His kindness and forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?' For having praised the long-suffering of God, and having shown that its gain is greatest for those who give heed (and this was the drawing of sinners to repentance), he increases their fear.

For just as to those who use it as they ought it is a ground of salvation, so to those who despise it it becomes provision for a greater punishment.

For this is that saying which is bandied about, that since God is kind and long-suffering He does not exact the penalty;

but when you say this, he declares, you say nothing else than the intensification of the punishment.

For God displays His kindness in order that you may be freed from your sins, not that you may add to them;

if therefore you do not do this, the judgment is the more terrible.

Wherefore we ought least of all to sin because God is long-suffering, nor to make His benefaction a pretext for ingratitude;

for if He is long-suffering, He also assuredly punishes.

From what is this clear? From what is said next.

For if wickedness abounds, and yet the wicked have not received their due, then of necessity they must assuredly receive it.

For if men do not overlook these things, how shall God overlook them? So that from this very point he also introduced his discourse concerning the judgment.

For by showing that many are liable to punishment unless they repent, and that they are then not chastised here, he by all means brings in the judgment as a corollary, and that with emphasis, saying:

But according to your hardness and impenitent heart you are treasuring up for yourself wrath.

For when a man is neither softened by kindness nor bent by fear, what could be harder than such a one? For since he had displayed God's love toward mankind, he then displays the punishment, that it is unbearable for the man who not even thus is turned back.

And observe how aptly he has used his words.

For 'you are treasuring up for yourself wrath,' he says, showing that it is utterly laid up in store, and making clear that not the one who judges, but the one being judged, is the cause of this.

'For you treasure it up for yourself,' he says, 'not God for you.'

For He did all that was needful: He fashioned you able to discern good things and things that are not such, He displayed long-suffering, He called you to repentance, and He threatened a fearful day, drawing you by every means toward repentance.

But if you remain unyielding, you are treasuring up for yourself wrath in the day of wrath and revelation and righteous judgment of God.

For lest, hearing 'wrath,' you should suppose it to be a passion, he added:

And well did he say, 'of revelation.'

For this is then revealed, when each one receives back according to his desert.

For here below many oftentimes act insolently against justice and lay their plots.

Who will render to each one according to his works;

to those who by patient endurance in a good work,

For since he had become fearful and severe in discoursing about the judgment and the punishment to come, he did not straightway cast the retribution into the expected place, but turned his discourse to what was more pleasant—the recompense of good things—speaking thus:

To those who by patient endurance in a good work seek for glory and honour and incorruption—eternal life.

Here he both rouses up those who had sunk down in temptations, and shows that one must not rely on faith alone;

for that tribunal is one that scrutinizes deeds as well.

And observe how he, when discoursing about things to come, is unable to speak plainly of the good things, but speaks of glory and honour.

For since they surpass all human things, he has no image of them to show from this present world, but from what seem splendid among us—from these, as far as may be, he sets them forth: from glory, from honour, from life;

for these are the things most eagerly pursued by men.

But those things are not such as these, but far better than these, inasmuch as they are also incorruptible and immortal.

Do you see how he also opened for us the doors concerning the resurrection of the bodies by saying 'incorruption'? For incorruption belongs to the body that is subject to corruption.

Then, since this was not enough, he added glory and honour.

For we shall all rise incorruptible, but not all unto glory; rather, some unto punishment, and others unto glory.

'But to those who are of contentious self-seeking,' he says.

For again he deprives of pardon those who live in wickedness, and shows that they fall into evil out of a certain love of strife and out of slothfulness.

And who are disobedient to the truth, but obey unrighteousness.

Behold yet another accusation again.

For what defence could he have who flees the light and chooses the darkness? And he did not say 'those forced and tyrannized,' but 'those obeying unrighteousness';

that you may learn that the fall is a matter of choice, and the guilt not one of necessity.

Tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that works evil;

that is, even if a man be wealthy, even if he be a consul, even if he be the very emperor, the sentence of the created order stands in awe of no one;

for dignities here have no place at all.

Having therefore shown the excess of the disease, and having added the cause—that it comes from the slothfulness of the sick—and the end—that destruction awaits them—and the ease of amendment, he again bears down upon the Jew in the matter of punishment as well.

Of the Jew first, and also of the Greek.

For he who has enjoyed the greater teaching would deservedly undergo the greater punishment as well, when he transgresses.

And so, the wiser or the more powerful we are, the more severely are we punished when we sin.

For if you are rich, more money will be required of you than of the poor man; if you are wiser, greater obedience; and if you are clothed with power, more illustrious deeds of righteousness.

And in all other matters likewise, you will contribute in proportion to your ability and your measure.

'But glory and honour and peace'

'to every one that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.'

What Jew does he here mean, or of what Greeks is he speaking? Of those who lived before the coming of Christ.

For his discourse has not yet reached the times of grace, but still lingers in the earlier times, purging the ground beforehand from afar and doing away with the partition between the Greek and the Jew, so that when he does this in the time of grace, he may no longer seem to be devising something novel and burdensome.

For if in the earlier times, when so great a grace had not yet shone forth, when the privileges of the Jews were reverenced and renowned and glorious in the eyes of all, there was nevertheless no distinction between them, what further argument could they have left to urge after so great a display of grace? For this very reason he establishes the point with much diligence.

For the hearer too, having learned that this principle prevailed even in the earlier times, will much more readily receive it after the coming of the faith.

By Greeks here he means not those who worshipped idols, but those who feared God, who obeyed the law of nature, who apart from the Jewish observances kept all that conduces to godliness;

such as were those about Melchizedek, such as was Job, such as were the Ninevites, such as was Cornelius.

Thus he already undermines beforehand the barrier between circumcision and uncircumcision, and from afar dissolves this distinction in advance, so as both to do it without arousing suspicion and to be led into it by another necessity;

which is ever the mark peculiar to the apostolic sagacity.

For if he had shown this in the very times of grace, his argument would have seemed to lie open to much suspicion;

but the fact that, while narrating the wickedness and depravity which held the world in its grip, he entered upon this subject as a consequence of that sequence, rendered the teaching free from suspicion.

And that this is his aim, and that for this reason he framed his argument thus, is plain from what follows.

For if he had not been eager to establish this, it would have sufficed him, after saying, 'according to thy hardness and impenitent heart thou treasurest up unto thyself wrath in the day of wrath,' to leave off from this subject;

but since this was not what he sought—merely to speak of the judgment to come—but also to show that the Jew had nothing more than such a Greek, that he might not be high-minded, he proceeds further and employs an ordered arrangement.

He struck fear into the hearer, he made that terrible day resound in his ears, he told how great an evil it is to live with wickedness, he showed that no one sins from ignorance nor goes unpunished, but that, even if he does not now pay the penalty, he will assuredly pay it;

from this point onward he wishes to establish that the teaching of the law was not among the things of pressing necessity;

for the punishment and the honour lie in the works, not in circumcision and uncircumcision.

Since then he had said that the Greek will assuredly be punished, and had taken this as a thing agreed upon, and from it had established that he will also be honoured, he thereby showed that the law and circumcision were superfluous;

for it is chiefly with the Jews that he here contends.

For since they were disposed to be more contentious—first, out of pride not deigning to be numbered together with those from among the nations;

and lest, in the second place, they should scoff, saying that if faith blots out all sins, for this reason he first brought his accusation against the Greeks, of whom he is speaking, so that afterward he might reach the Jews without suspicion and with freedom of speech.

Then, coming to the examination concerning punishment, he shows that the Jew not only gains no advantage at all from the Law, but is even burdened by it.

And this he establishes from what precedes.

For if the Greek is inexcusable on this account, that though creation and his own reasonings led him on, he became no better,

much more the Jew, who besides these things also received the teaching that comes from the Law.

Having therefore persuaded him readily to accept this line of reasoning in regard to the sins of others, he then compels him, even against his will, to apply it to matters concerning himself.

And in order that the argument might be readily received, he leads him on by way of the more kindly considerations, speaking thus:

'But glory and honor and peace to everyone who works good, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.'

For here, whatever good things a man may possess, he possesses them along with many troubles;

even if he be rich, even if he be a ruler, even if he be a king;

and if not with another, at least with himself he is often at variance, and holds much warfare within his own thoughts;

but there is nothing of the sort, but all is calm and free from disturbance, and possesses genuine peace.

Having therefore established from what was said above that even those who do not possess the Law shall enjoy the same things, he adds also a reason, speaking thus:

'For there is no respect of persons with God.'

For when he says that both the Jew and the Greek are punished when they sin, he has no need of reasons;

but when he wishes to establish that the Greek also is honored, then he has need of proof.

For indeed it seemed marvelous and paradoxical that one who had heard neither the Law nor the prophets should be honored for working good things.

For this reason, as I also said before, in the times before grace he exercises their ears, so that afterward, together with faith, he might more easily introduce their assent in these matters as well.

For here he becomes least of all suspected, inasmuch as he is not establishing his own case.

Having therefore said, 'Glory and honor and peace to everyone who works good, to the Jew first and also to the Greek,' he added:

'For there is no respect of persons with God.'

Ah, out of what abundance did he prevail!

For he shows, by leading the argument on to an absurdity, that it would not be according to God's nature for things not to be so;

for indeed the matter would then be one of respect of persons.

And he did not say, 'But if this were not so, God would be a respecter of persons,' but more reverently:

'For there is no respect of persons with God';

that is, he does not examine the quality of persons, but the difference of deeds.

By saying this, he made it clear that the Jew differs from the Greek not in deeds, but in persons only.

Consequent upon these things it would have been fitting to say:

'For it is not because the one is a Jew and the other a Greek that on this account the one is honored and the other insulted;

but both results come from works.'

For that would have stirred up the anger of the Jew;

but he sets down something further, drawing down and lowering their pride and restraining it, so that they might accept that other point.

And what is this? What follows next:

'For as many as have sinned without law,' he says, 'shall also perish without law;

and as many as have sinned in the law shall be judged by the law.'

For here, as I have already said, he shows not only the equal standing of Jew and Greek, but also that the Jew is greatly burdened by the giving of the Law.

For the Greek is judged without law;

and by the phrase 'without law' he here means not the harsher, but the milder thing;

that is, he does not have the Law as accuser.

For 'without law,' that is, apart from the condemnation which comes from it, means, he says, that he is condemned from the reasonings of nature alone.

But the Jew is judged 'in the law,' that is, with both nature and the Law as accusers;

for the more attention he enjoyed, the greater penalty shall he pay.

Do you see how he laid a greater necessity upon the Jews of hastening to grace? For since they were saying that they had no need of grace, being justified by the Law alone, he shows that they have need of it more than the Greeks, seeing that they are destined to be punished the more.

Then again he brings in another reason, contending in support of what has been said.

'For not the hearers of the law are just before God;'

Well did he add, 'before God';

for before men perhaps they may appear venerable and may boast greatly, but before God it is quite the opposite: 'the doers of the law shall alone be justified.'

Have you seen with what abundance he has used, turning the argument round to the contrary? For if you claim, he says, to be saved on account of the Law, the Greek shall stand before you in this very matter, having shown himself a doer of the things that are written.

'And how is it possible,' he says, 'that one who has not become a hearer should become a doer?' 'It is possible,' he says, 'and not only this, but even much more than this.'

For not only is it possible to become a doer without hearing, but also, with hearing, not to be one;

which he afterward sets down more plainly, saying it with greater abundance:

'You who teach another, do you not teach yourself?' But here for the present he establishes the former point.

'For when Gentiles,' he says, 'who do not have the law, do by nature the things of the law, these, not having the law, are a law to themselves.'

'I do not cast out the Law,' he says, 'but even from this very thing I justify the Gentiles.'

Have you seen how, while undermining the glory of Judaism, he gives no handle against himself as though dishonoring the Law, but on the contrary, as exalting it and showing it great, he thus establishes the whole matter? And when he says 'by nature,' he means by the reasonings that come from nature.

And he shows that they are better than the Jews, and, what is greater, that they are better on this very account, that they did not receive the Law nor possess this thing by which the Jews think they have the advantage over them.

'For on this account,' he says, 'they are admirable, that they had no need of the Law and yet displayed all the things of the Law, the works, not the letters, having engraved them upon their minds.'

'Who show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness with them, and their thoughts among themselves accusing or else defending them, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men, according to my Gospel, through Jesus Christ.'

Do you see how again he set that day before them and brought it near, shaking their minds and showing that these ought rather to be honored who have been zealous, without the Law, to accomplish the things of the Law? But that which is most to be admired in the apostolic wisdom is worthy to be mentioned now.

For having shown from his argument that the Greek is greater than the Jew, in the gathering-together and in the conclusion of the reasonings he does not set this down, so as not to exasperate the Jew.

And that I may make still plainer what I have said, I will state the very words of the apostle.

For since he said, 'For not the hearers of the law, but the doers of the law shall be justified,' it would have been consequent to say:

'For when Gentiles who do not have the law do by nature the things of the law, these are far better than those who are taught from the Law.'

But he does not say this; instead he stops at the praise of the Greeks, and for the present does not carry the argument on to a comparison, so that in this way the Jew might accept what is said.

Therefore he did not say it as I have said, but how? 'For when Gentiles who do not have the law do by nature the things of the law, these, not having the law, are a law to themselves;

who show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness with them.'

For conscience and reason suffice in place of the Law.

Through these words he showed again that God made man self-sufficient for the choice of virtue and the flight from vice.

And do not marvel if he establishes this once, and twice, and many times over.

For this point was exceedingly necessary to him, on account of those who say:

Why has Christ come only now? And where was all this great providence in the time before? Contending against these men also, though only in passing, he shows that even in the ages of old, and before the whole giving of the Law, the nature of mankind enjoyed His providence.

For that which may be known of God was manifest to them, and they knew both what was good and what was evil, by which very things they judged others;

and reproaching them for this very thing, he said that: In that in which you judge another, you condemn yourself.

But in the case of the Jews, besides the things already mentioned, the Law also stands, not reasoning alone nor conscience only.

But for what reason does he add the words, Their thoughts either accusing or else excusing one another? For if they have a written law and demonstrate the work of it, what has reason left to accuse? But he no longer speaks the word Accusing concerning those alone, but concerning the whole of nature as well.

For then our thoughts also stand forth, some accusing and some excusing, and a man needs no other accuser at that judgment seat.

Then, heightening the fear, he did not say, The sins of men, but, The secrets of men.

Do you reckon, you who judge those that do such things and yet do them yourself, that you will escape the judgment of God? So that you may not expect such a verdict as you yourself pass, but may see that God's judgment is far more exact than yours, he added:

The secrets of men; and he added:

According to my Gospel, through Jesus Christ.

For men sit as judges of things manifest alone.

And yet above he spoke of the Father alone; but since he had by now softened them with fear, he brought in also the word concerning Christ;

and this not simply, but here too, having made mention of the Father, he thus introduced Him;

and by these very things he exalts also the dignity of the preaching;

for this preaching, he says, proclaims beforehand these very things which nature, taking the lead, had already shown.

Do you see how wisely he bound them fast, bringing them to the Gospel and to Christ, and demonstrated that our affairs do not halt with the things here, but journey yet further? This he had established above as well when he said, You are treasuring up for yourself wrath against the day of wrath, and here again, God will judge the secrets of men.

Let each one, therefore, coming into his own conscience and reckoning up his transgressions, exact from himself a strict account, that we may not then be condemned together with the world.

For fearful is that judgment seat, dreadful is the tribunal, the reckonings are full of trembling, a river of fire is dragged along;

A brother does not redeem; shall a man redeem? For call to mind the things spoken in the Gospel: the angels running to and fro, the bridal chamber shut, the lamps not quenched, the powers dragging men into the furnaces.

And consider this too: that if some hidden deed of any one of us were brought into the midst today before the Church alone, how much rather would he pray to perish and for the earth to open beneath him, than to have so many witnesses of his wickedness!

What then shall we suffer at that time, when before the whole world all things shall be brought into the midst, in so bright and conspicuous a theatre, with both those known and those unknown to us beholding all things? But alas, from where am I compelled to strike fear into you? From men's opinion, when I ought to do this from the fear of God and from a man's own self-condemnation. For what shall we be then, tell me, when we are bound and, our teeth gnashing, are led away into the outer darkness? Or rather, what shall we do—which is more fearful than all—when we have offended God? For if anyone has any sense and understanding, he has already endured hell itself when he is cast out from the sight of God;

but since this does not pain us, for this reason He threatened fire.

For indeed we ought to grieve, not when we are punished, but when we sin.

Hear, at any rate, Paul lamenting and bewailing over sins for which he was not about to pay any penalty.

For I am not worthy, he says, to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church.

Hear too, at any rate, David—delivered from the punishment, but, since he thought he had offended God, calling down the vengeance upon himself and saying:

Let Your hand be against me, and against the house of my father.

For to offend God is more grievous than to be punished.

But now we are so wretchedly disposed that, if there were no fear of hell, we would not even quickly choose to do any good thing.

Wherefore, even if for no other reason, for this reason at least we would be worthy of hell, in that we fear hell rather than Christ.

But not so the blessed Paul—rather the opposite.

And since we are otherwise minded, for this reason we are condemned to hell;

for if indeed we loved Christ as we ought to love, we would have known that to offend the Beloved is more grievous than hell;

but since we do not love, we do not know the greatness of this punishment.

And this is what I most bewail and lament.

And yet what did God not do in order to be loved by us? What did He not devise? What did He leave undone? We insulted Him who had done us no wrong, but had rather bestowed on us countless and unspeakable benefits; we turned away from Him who called us and drew us from every side, and not even so did He punish us, but Himself ran after us and held us fast as we fled; and we shook Him off and leapt away to the devil;

and not even so did He withdraw, but sent countless messengers to entreat us again—prophets, angels, patriarchs;

but we not only did not receive the embassy, but even insulted those who came.

Yet He did not, even for these things, cast us off in disgust; but like ardent lovers of those who are despised, He went about appealing to all—to heaven, to earth, to Jeremiah, to Micah—not that He might

burden them, but that He might make His defence concerning His own dealings; and together with the prophets He Himself also drew near to those who turned away from Him, being ready to render an account and deigning to enter into argument, and dragging those who were deaf toward everything into discourse with Him.

For My people, He says, what have I done to you? Or in what have I grieved you? Answer Me.

After all these things we killed the prophets, we stoned them, we wrought countless other evils.

What then in return for these things? No longer prophets, no longer angels, no longer patriarchs, but He sent His very Son.

The Son too was slain when He came, and not even so did He quench His love, but kindled it the more, and continues entreating even after His own Son had been slain, beseeching and doing all things for the sake of turning us to Himself.

Therefore we are ambassadors on behalf of Christ, as though God were entreating you through us;

But none of these things reconciled us.

Yet He did not even so abandon us, but abides both threatening hell and promising a kingdom, that even in this way He might draw us to Himself;

but we still remain unfeeling.

What could be worse than this brutishness? For if a man had done these things, would we not many times over have become his slaves? Yet when God does them, we turn away? Oh, the sloth!

we who live continually in sins and wickednesses, yet if ever we do even some small good, like ungrateful servants we scrutinize it with much haggling, and calculate exactly concerning the recompense, whether the deed has some reward.

And yet the reward is greater if you do it not in hope of rewards;

for to say these things and to calculate exactly is the language of a hireling rather than of a grateful servant.

For we ought to do all things for Christ's sake, not for the reward's sake;

for indeed, both hell was threatened and a kingdom promised for this very reason: that we might be loved by Him.

Let us therefore love Him as it is fitting to love;

for this is the great reward, this is kingdom and delight, this is luxury and glory and honour, this is light, this is the ten-thousandfold blessedness, which no word is able to set forth, nor mind to comprehend.

But indeed I know not how I was led into these words, bidding men who despise not even the rule and glory of the present life to despise, for Christ's sake, a kingdom;

and yet those great and noble men attained even to this measure of love.

Hear, at any rate, how Peter burns with love for Him, setting Him before both soul and life and all things;

and when he denied Him, he mourned not on account of the punishment, but because he had denied the One he longed for, which was to him more bitter than any punishment.

And all these things he displayed before the grace of the Spirit, and continually he pressed on, saying:

Where are You going? and before this, To whom shall we go away? and again, I will follow You wherever You go.

For He was all things to them, and they preferred neither heaven nor the kingdom of heaven before the One they longed for.

For You are all those things to me, he says.

And why do you marvel if Peter was so disposed? For hear too what the prophet says:

For what have I in heaven? And besides You, what have I desired upon earth? And what he means is this:

I long for nothing else, neither of the things above nor of the things below, but for You alone.

This is love, this is friendship;

if we love thus, we shall count as nothing, in comparison with that love, not only the things present, but not even the things to come, and from hence we shall reap the kingdom, revelling in His love.

And how, one asks, shall this come to pass?

If we consider how often we affront Him after receiving ten thousand blessings, while He yet stands beseeching us;

how often we run past Him, yet He overlooks it not, but runs after us, draws us on, and pulls us to Himself.

For if we reflect on these things and the like, we shall be able to kindle this longing within us.

For if he who loved thus were a man of no account, and he who was so loved were a king, would he not be ashamed at the greatness of such affection? Assuredly he would.

But when the reverse is the case—when the beauty, the glory, and the riches of Him who loves us are unspeakable, while ours is utter meanness—how are we not deserving of ten thousand

punishments, we who are so mean and abject, yet loved beyond all measure by so great and wondrous a One, and who wantonly abuse His love? He needs nothing of ours, yet not even so does He cease to love us;

while we stand in great need of what is His, and yet not even so do we cling to His love, but prefer to Him money, and the friendships of men, and bodily ease, and power, and glory—we who prefer nothing of His! For He had one only-begotten and true Son, and not even Him did He spare for our sake;

but we prefer many things to Him.

Are we not then justly deserving of hell and punishment, even were it double and triple and ten thousand times as great? For what could we say, when we prefer Satan's commands to the laws of Christ, and are careless of our own salvation, that we may prefer the works of wickedness to Him who suffered all things for us? And of what pardon are such deeds worthy? Of what defence? Of none whatever.

Let us then at last stand fast, not being borne down over the precipices; let us come to our senses again, and, having weighed all these things, let us render glory to Him through our deeds;

for it is not enough to do so by words alone;

that we may also enjoy the glory that comes from Him, which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and love toward man 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. Amen.