Homilies on Romans 8 part 2/2

how could He who is free from this passion, and who is so far exalted above, stand in need of glory from you? Yet nonetheless, though needing it not, He desires it — for your sake, he says.

For if He endured to become a servant for your sake, why do you marvel if He clings to these other things also for the same purpose? For He counts nothing unworthy of Himself, so long as it tends to our salvation.

Knowing these things, then, let us flee every sin, through which He Himself is blasphemed.

For 'As from the face of a serpent,' He says, 'flee from sin.'

'If you draw near to it, it will bite you;'

For she does not come to us, but it is we who desert of our own accord and go over to her.

For God has ordained even this, that the devil should not prevail by sheer tyranny; else no one could have stood against that strength of his.

For otherwise no one would have withstood the might of that one.

For this reason He drove him far off, as one drives away some robber and tyrant.

And unless he seizes a man naked and forsaken into his lairs, he does not dare to set upon him.

Unless he sees us journeying through the wilderness, he takes no courage to approach.

And the wilderness, the place of the devil, is nothing else than sin.

We have need, therefore, of the shield of faith, of the helmet of salvation, of the sword of the Spirit;

not only that we may not suffer harm, but that, even if he should wish to spring upon us, we may cut off his head;

we have need of unceasing prayers, that he may be crushed beneath our feet.

For he is shameless and vile, and that too though he fights from below;

and the reason is that we are not zealous to become higher than his blows;

for neither is he able to be lifted up on high, but is dragged along below.

And if from the beginning God so ordered him, much more now.

But if you do not know what it means to fight from below, I will try to explain to you also the manner of this warfare.

What then is it to fight from below? It is to do battle by means of things below—by pleasure, by wealth, by all the affairs of this life.

Wherefore, if he sees anyone soaring toward heaven, first of all he will not even be able to spring upon him;

and secondly, even if he attempts it, he will quickly fall;

for he has no feet—do not be afraid;

he has no wings—do not be dismayed;

he is dragged along upon the earth, and among the things of the earth.

Let nothing, then, be common between you and the earth, and you will have no need even of toil.

For neither does he know how to fight face to face, but like a serpent he hides himself among the thorns, ever lurking in the deceit of wealth.

And if you cut away the thorns, he will readily take flight, having become a coward; and if you know how to chant over him the divine incantations, he will straightway be wounded.

For we have—yes, we have—spiritual incantations: the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the power of the Cross.

This incantation not only drives the dragon forth from his holes and casts him into the fire, but also heals wounds.

But if many who have uttered it were not healed, this was owing to their own little faith, not to any weakness in the thing spoken;

since Jesus too was thronged and pressed by some, and they gained nothing;

whereas the woman with the issue of blood, though she touched not His body but only the hem of His garment, stayed the long-standing fountains of blood.

This name is terrible both to demons and to passions and to diseases.

With this, therefore, let us adorn ourselves; with this let us fortify ourselves.

Thus also did Paul become great, and yet he too was of the same nature as we; but faith made him another instead of the man he was, and so great was his abundance that even his garments possessed much power.

Of what defense, then, should we be worthy, if of those men even the shadows and the garments drove away death, while of us not even our prayers subdue the passions? What then is the cause? Great is the difference of disposition;

since in respect of nature we are equal and share alike;

for he too, like us, was born and nourished, and dwelt upon the earth, and breathed the air;

but in all else he was far greater and better than we—in zeal, in faith, in love.

Let us therefore imitate him, and grant that through us also Christ may speak;

or rather, He it is who is more truly ours, and for this cause He fashioned this instrument, and does not wish it to remain useless and idle, but desires ever to have it in His hands.

Why then do you not make it ready for the Artist's hand, but slacken the strings, and make them softer through luxury, and render the whole lyre useless to Him—when you ought rather to tighten and brace the members, and to make them firm with the spiritual salt? For if He sees it thus tuned, Christ will make music even through our soul.

And when this comes to pass, you will behold even angels leaping for joy, and archangels, and the Cherubim.

Let us therefore become worthy of those blameless hands;

let us entreat Him to strike upon our heart as well;

or rather, He has no need even of entreaty;

only make it worthy of that touch, and He Himself will run to you first.

For if He hastens for the sake of things to come (for He wove the encomium for Paul while he had not yet become such a man), when He sees the work perfected, what will He not do? And if Christ makes music, the Spirit too will assuredly light upon us, and we shall become better than heaven, having not the sun and moon fixed within our body, but the Master of sun and moon and angels dwelling and walking within us.

These things I say, not that we may raise the dead, nor that we may cleanse lepers, but that we may display that which is greater than all these signs—love.

For wherever this good thing is, straightway the Son also is present together with the Father, and the grace of the Spirit visits.

For where two or three, He says, are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them.

Now this belongs to great affection, and to those who love exceedingly—to have those they love on either side of them.

And who is so wretched, He says, as not to wish to have Christ in the midst? We, who are at strife with one another.

And perhaps someone will laugh at me and say, What do you mean? Do you see us all under the same walls, under the same fold of the church, standing under the same sheepfold in concord, no one at quarrel, crying out together under the same shepherd, hearing together the things spoken, sending up together our prayers—and yet you speak of strife and of division? I do speak of strife, and I am not mad, neither am I beside myself.

For I see indeed what I see, and I know that we are under the same fold and the same shepherd.

And for this very reason I lament most of all—that though so many things draw us together, yet we are at strife.

And what strife, he says, have you seen here? Here indeed none;

but when we have dispersed, one accuses another, another openly insults, another envies, is greedy and plunders;

and another does violence, another lusts wickedly, another stitches together countless deceits.

And if it were possible to lay bare our souls, then you would see all these things clearly, and would know that I am not mad.

Do you not see in the camps that, when there is peace, they lay aside their arms and pass over, naked and unguarded, into the camp of the enemy? But when they are fenced with arms, and there are watches and outposts and sleepless nights, and fire is kept perpetually burning, such a state is no longer peace, but war.

This same thing may be seen also among us;

for we guard ourselves against one another and are afraid, and each of us converses with his neighbor close to the ear, and if we see another coming up, we fall silent and draw back everything out of the midst;

which is not the mark of men who are confident, but of those who are exceedingly on their guard.

But we do these things, he says, not in order to wrong others, but in order not to be wronged.

For this reason I mourn—that living in the midst of brethren, we have need of a guard against being wronged, and kindle so many fires, and set watches and outposts.

And the cause is that falsehood abounds, deceit abounds, great is the overthrow of love, and there is a truceless war.

Wherefore one may find many who trust the heathen more than Christians;

and yet of how much shame are these things worthy? of how many tears, of how many wailings? And what am I to do? he says; so-and-so is perverse and wicked.

And where is your philosophy? where are the apostolic laws that bid us bear one another's burdens? For if you know not how to deal with a brother, when will you be able to deal with a stranger

aright? If you know not how to handle your own member, when will you be able to draw in the outsider and join him to yourself? But what am I to do? I am in great difficulty as regards a flow of tears, else I would have let loose abundant fountains from my eyes, according to that prophet, seeing upon this plain wars past number more grievous than those.

For he, seeing the barbarians coming on, said, I am pained in my belly;

but I, seeing men drawn up in battle-line under one general, and then standing against one another, biting and tearing one another's members—some for money's sake, some for glory, some simply and at random mocking and jeering, and inflicting countless wounds upon one another, and corpses more grievous than those of war, and the name of brethren left henceforth a bare name only—I cannot devise any lamentation worthy of this tragedy.

Reverence therefore, reverence this table of which we all partake, the Christ who was slain for our sake, the sacrifice that lies upon it.

Robbers who share salt together are robbers no longer toward those with whom they have shared it; the table changes their disposition, and makes those fiercer than wild beasts gentler than sheep.

Yet we, who partake of such a table, who share in such food, take up arms against one another, when we ought to do this against the devil who wars against us all.

For this very reason we grow weaker, while he grows stronger with each passing day.

For we do not stand shielded together against him, but stand with him against one another, and use him as our general in such battle-lines, when we ought to war against him alone.

But now, leaving him aside, we bend our bows against the brethren.

What bows? someone asks. Those that come from the tongue and the mouth.

For it is not only javelins and arrows, but words too, that inflict wounds far more bitter than arrows.

And how shall we be able to bring this war to an end? someone asks. If you consider that in speaking evil of your brother you pour forth filth from your mouth; if you consider that you are slandering a member of Christ, that you are devouring your own flesh, that you are making that dread and impartial tribunal more bitter for yourself, that the arrow destroys not the one struck but you who shot it.

But has he wronged you and done you evil? Groan, but do not speak evil;

weep, not for the wrong done to you, but for his ruin, just as your Master also wept over Judas, not because He Himself was being crucified, but because that man was betraying Him.

Has he insulted and reviled you? Beseech God to become merciful to him speedily.

He is your brother; he was brought forth in the same birth-pangs as you;

he is a member of yours; he has been called to the same table.

But he tramples upon me all the more, someone says.

Then greater and more abundant is your reward.

For this reason above all it is right to lay aside your anger, since he has received a mortal blow, since the devil has wounded him.

Do not, then, strike back yourself, nor cast yourself down together with him;

for as long as you stand, you are able to save him too;

but if you throw yourself down by insulting in return, who will raise you up thereafter? He who was wounded? But he cannot, lying prostrate.

Or you, who have fallen along with him? And how, when you were not sufficient to give a hand to yourself, will you have strength for another? Stand, then, nobly, and putting forth your shield, drag your brother, though he lies dead, out of the fray by your longsuffering.

Has anger wounded him? Do not you also wound him, but rather draw out the arrow that was there before.

For if we treat one another thus, we shall all speedily be made whole;

but if we take up arms against one another, there is henceforth no need even of the devil for our destruction.

For every war is grievous, but civil war most of all.

But this is even more grievous than civil war, inasmuch as the claims of our commonwealth upon us are greater—indeed, greater than those of kinship itself.

Once a brother killed Abel, and shed kindred blood;

but this murder is more lawless than that, by as much as the ties of kinship are greater and the manner of the death more grievous.

For he wounded the body, but you drive the sword against the soul.

But did you suffer evil first? Yet it is not the suffering, but the doing of evil, that is truly to suffer evil.

Cain slew, Abel was slain;

which, then, was the dead man? He who cried out after his death—

for 'The voice,' Scripture says, 'of the blood of your brother Abel cries out to Me'—

or he who while living trembled and was afraid? For this man, this man, was more pitiable than any corpse.

Have you seen how it is better to be wronged, even if one should go so far as murder? Learn how it is worse to do wrong, even if one should prevail to the point of shedding blood.

That man struck down and slew his brother, yet the one was crowned while the other was punished;

Abel was slain and murdered contrary to justice, yet the one, in dying, accused and destroyed and overpowered,

while the other, though living, was silent and ashamed and stood convicted, and brought about the very opposite of what he desired.

For he slew him because he saw him beloved, expecting to cast him out of that love as well;

but he only intensified the affection the more, and God sought him out even more after his death, saying, 'Where is Abel your brother?'

For you did not quench the affection by your envy, but rather kindled it;

you did not diminish his honor by the slaughter, but rather increased it the more.

For before this God had even made him subject to you;

but since you slew him, even in death he shall avenge himself upon you—

so great is my affection toward him.

Which, then, was the one condemned? He who punished, or he who was punished? He who enjoyed such honor from God, or he who was given over to a new and strange chastisement? 'You did not fear him while he lived,' Scripture says;

'therefore fear him now that he is dead;

you did not tremble when about to bring the sword upon him;

you shall be seized with perpetual trembling after shedding the blood;

while he lived he was a servant to you, and you could not endure it;

therefore, having died, he has become to you a fearful master.'

Reflecting on these things, then, beloved, let us flee envy, let us quench malice, rendering love to one another in return, that we may reap from it the good things both in the present life and in the life to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and might unto the ages of ages.