Homilies on Ecclesiastes 1 part 6/8

For as the sun is common and the air is common, and above all the grace and blessing of God are common, so likewise the participation in every good thing lay equally open before all with equal authority, and the disease of covetousness was not known, and there was no hatred toward those who excelled arising from a sense of being surpassed (for indeed there was no such thing as "excelling" at all); and countless other things besides these, which no one could set forth in speech — things far greater in magnificence than all that has been said: I mean, namely, the equal honor with the angels, the boldness of access before God, the contemplation of the goods beyond the world, and that we ourselves were adorned with the ineffable beauty of that blessed nature, displaying in ourselves the divine image shining forth in the beauty of the soul.

But as for what has come in place of those things — such as the wicked swarm of passions, that evil wasp's-nest of griefs — what would one name first among the evils of this life? All stand on equal footing with one another, all take precedence in their preeminence of evils, all become occasion for equal lamentations.

For what would someone lament more of our wretchedness? For what would he mourn nature the more — the swiftly-perishing course of life, its toilsomeness, the beginning from tears and the ending in tears, the pitiable state of infancy, the derangement of old age, the instability of youth, the many labors of those established in mid-life, the burdensomeness of marriage, the desolation of the unmarried state, the oppressiveness of many children, the rootlessness of childlessness, the enviousness attending wealth, the anguish of poverty? And I pass over in silence the manifold varieties of diseases, the disfigurements, the mutilations, the corruptions, the maimings of the senses, the derangements caused by demons — everything that nature contains within itself, which every human being, in potentiality, has within his nature as an affliction.

And I pass over the madness of erotic passions, and the foul-smelling mire into which such raving frenzy is overturned.

Nor do I speak of the revulsion joined to food through its excretion, lest I should seem, by going through everything, to be pillorying our life in this discourse, as though demonstrating our nature to be some manufacturer of dung.

Setting aside all these things and their like, I say that this, above all, is worthy of tears to those who have perception: to know that, once this shadow-like life has run its course, there awaits us "a certain fearful expectation of judgment, and a fierceness of fire that is about to consume the adversaries."

He, then, who reckons on these things and their like — will he not live his whole life together with lamentation? This, then, would be the time to grasp these things in one's reasoning.

For from bearing oneself gloomily toward the present life, it will naturally follow that one commits no offense in it.

And once this is set right, the promised grace of joy will be laid up for us through hope.

"And hope does not put to shame," as the apostle says.

And what follows is, as it were, a recapitulation of what has already been said.

For having spoken of the timeliness of tears and of laughter, he added:

"A time to mourn, and a time to dance" — which is nothing other than an intensification of each of the two things already mentioned.

For the passionate and inward lamentation is called by Scripture "mourning."

And likewise, dancing signifies the intensification of joy, just as we have learned such a thing in the gospel, where it says:

"We piped to you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn."

For it says that he sounds forth some harmonious melody being struck up on the musical instrument, and that he moves along with the rhythm with his foot, and through the rhythmical motion of the body publishes abroad the disposition within.

...and of body — and life is twofold, operating correspondingly in each of these two elements within us — it would be good, while we are being smitten in our bodily life (for the occasions for lamentation in this present life are many), to prepare for the soul the harmonious dance.

For the more this life is darkened through dejection, the more the occasions for joy are gathered together for the soul.

Self-restraint seems gloomy, humility downcast, being deprived a matter for lament, and not having equal standing with those in power a ground for mourning — but 'he who humbles himself shall be exalted,' and he who contends with poverty shall be crowned, and he who abounds in sores and shows forth in every way a life worthy of lamentation shall rest in the bosom of the patriarch — in which may we too come to be, by the mercy of Jesus Christ who saves us, to whom be the glory forever.

HOMILY 7. A time to cast stones, and a time to gather stones.

The commander of the ecclesiastical power has already, through what he has taught, increased the strength of his hearers, so that they are now able both to cast down those arrayed against them and to gather together the equipment needed for the casting.

For that in which we were previously instructed — through which we have learned to apply to all things the measure derived from time, and to make timeliness in every matter the criterion of the good — leads us to this power, so that the arm of our soul is made strong, and we send forth with aim the destructive stones against the enemy, and again recall those very stones with which we struck down the foe, so as always to have them ready to hurl again at the adversary.

Those, then, who look only to the letter and rest content with the ready-at-hand understanding of what has been said will perhaps apply the law of Moses to the present words, in accordance with what the law commands — to cast stones, if anyone should be found transgressing.

Such indeed as we have learned also from the history itself, concerning those who sinned against the Sabbath, and the one who stole the sacred things, and concerning the other offenses for which the law prescribed the punishment by stones.

But if the Ecclesiast had not also made the gathering of stones a matter of timeliness — concerning which no law gives command, nor does any act recorded in history suggest the like — I would have agreed with those who interpret the saying by the law, holding that the time for casting stones is precisely when someone transgresses the Sabbath or steals something dedicated.

But as it is, the addition that the stones must again be gathered — a thing determined by no law — leads us to another understanding, so that we may learn what kind of stones these are, which after being cast must again become the possession of the one who cast them.

For whenever we cast the stones at the proper time, we are taught to gather them together again at the proper time.

It seems to me, then, that not even the law itself should be understood so nakedly, according to the ready-at-hand notion.

For what that is fitting for God and great is manifest in the bare understanding of what is written? If someone were caught gathering sticks on the Sabbath, was it on this account necessary that the man be stoned, when no injustice at all appears in the offense? For whom did he wrong by gathering together, for the need of fire, sticks that happened to be scattered about in the wilderness? For he is not accused of taking away what belonged to another, so that the injustice might reasonably seem to deserve punishment; rather, that which lay open in common to all becomes for him the cause of the casting of stones.

But because he did this on the Sabbath, on this account he is condemned as a wrongdoer.

Who does not know that each of the things that happen is judged by its own nature, whether it is evil or is not such, while the time in which the act is performed is regarded as extrinsic to the nature of what happens? For what has the interval of time in common with that which is accomplished by our own choice? If someone should ask us what a day is, we will certainly answer that it is the sun's being above the earth, and we make morning and evening its measure.

...this will apply as the days recur in their cycle; but the same reckoning holds true of the first day and the second, and so on up to the seventh, and the day of the Sabbath differs not at all from the rest in respect of being a day.

But if one examines the meaning of sin, we shall certainly say it is doing something one ought not against one's neighbor — such as 'You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal,' and the rest, of which there is a certain generic and comprehensive law containing within itself each particular instance, namely, the command to love one's neighbor as oneself.

These, whether rightly kept or transgressed, are on every day equally either altogether good or, on the contrary, understood as their opposite.

No one would suppose that what today has been judged evil when it occurs — whether the offense be murder or any other of the forbidden things — should be considered good on the following day.

If, then, evil is always such, in whatever time it happens to be ventured, then likewise none of the things that are blameless could ever become blameworthy on account of time.

If, then, gathering sticks and kindling fire before the Sabbath lies outside injustice and outside punishment, how does this same act become an offense on the following day? But I know the Sabbath of rest; I know the law of cessation from work — a law which does not bind man and command him to be idle with respect to his natural activity.

For otherwise it would be commanding impossibilities, ordering us to be inactive, for whom, apart from all other works, the very form of life is itself a work. For who does not know that seeing is the work of the eyes, and hearing the natural activity of the ears, and smelling of the nostrils, the drawing in of air the work of the mouth, speech of the tongue, the service of nourishment for the teeth, digestion for the inward parts, motion for the feet, and for the hands, those things toward which these members are by nature suited to act?

How, then, is it possible for the law of cessation to stand ratified, when nature does not admit of idleness? How shall I persuade the eye not to see on the Sabbath, whose nature it is by all means to see something? How shall I check the activity of hearing? How will smell be persuaded by me to lay aside on the Sabbath its perceptive sense of vapors? And how will the inward parts fail to perform their own activity, being enslaved to the law, so that food should remain undigested in the body, in order that nature might display itself idle on the Sabbath? If, then, the rest of our body cannot receive the law of idleness (for it would not be alive at all if it were not active), then it is not at all the case that the Sabbath goes unviolated, even if the hand or the foot remains motionless in the same posture and place.

Since, then, the law is laid down not for some part, but for the whole man, we shall not any more keep the law by being inactive through one of our members than we shall dissolve what has been commanded by acting according to nature through our other senses.

But indeed the law is from God, and none of the things commanded by God is such as to be contrary to nature, or to be shown to be outside the reasoning that accords with virtue; but irrational idleness is not virtue.

It is fitting, therefore, to inquire what the precept of the Sabbath rest intends.

I say, then, that of all the legislation that has come into being from God, there is one single aim: that those who have received the law should be pure of the works of vice; and every law that forbids what is prohibited commands us to keep sabbath from evil works.

If, then, one should understand the law in this way — that man should be idle in vice — I too agree that the wise Ecclesiast appoints a time for casting stones against the one who gathers sticks for himself, by which the collecting of the sticks of vice, gathered together as fuel for the fire, is prevented.

But if one should abide by the bare letter, I do not know how one could reckon what is fitting for God to be present in the law.

We must, then, understand who these stones are that are cast against such a one, so that the eager pursuit of stick-gathering may not attain its end.

And what are the sticks, by which the fire will be kindled for the one who has gathered them? These, at any rate, are surely not unclear to one who has any understanding at all of the mystical sense of the words.

Scripture names the wicked structure 'stubble' and 'hay,' because such structures become fire at the time of judgment, and the voice of the Gospel says that the chaff is being prepared for the fire, and it declared the unfruitful branch to be fit only for the fire — it would be clear, then, that the sticks gathered as preparation for fire are the vain pursuits of life, and this is the one who is cast at with stones in due time — whom, if one understands him to be the reasoning that inclines toward evil, one would not miss the mark of what is fitting.

But it is altogether necessary to understand that these destructive reasonings against vice are the stones skillfully slung by the Ecclesiast, which must always both be sent forth and gathered together.

Sent forth for the demolition of that which raises itself up against our life, but gathered together so that the bosom of the soul may always be full of such provisions, so that the throw against the enemy might be ready at hand, whenever he should again devise a plot against us.

From where, then, shall we gather the stones with which we shall stone the enemy? I have heard the prophecy saying:

'Holy stones roll upon the earth.'

These would be the words that descend to us from the God-inspired Scripture, which we must gather in the bosom of the soul, so that in due time we might use them against those who grieve us — words whose throw both destroys the enemy and is not separated from the right hand of the one who casts it.

For he who casts down, with the stone of self-control, the licentious reasoning that through pleasures gathers together the fuel of fire, has by that throw overcome that reasoning, and he ever carries the weapon in his hand.

So too righteousness becomes a stone against injustice, and destroys it, and is kept in the bosom of the one who cast it.

In the same manner, all things conceived with a view to the better become destructive of the worse, and are not separated from the one who accomplishes virtue.

Thus it is, according at least to our understanding, that there is a time to cast the stones and a time to gather stones — so that we may always send forth the good throws to stone the worse things, and the abundance of such weapons may never fail us.

The saying that next follows in order defines a certain time and untimeliness of an embrace:

'A time to embrace, and a time to be far from embracing.'

But these meanings would not otherwise become manifest to us unless the expression were first understood through Scripture, so that it might become clear to us in what sense the God-inspired word is accustomed to use the term 'embrace.'

'Encircle Zion, and embrace her.' And this same Solomon, when he was fashioning the inward union of one disposed erotically toward Wisdom, says, among the other things through which our connection to virtue comes about, adds this also:

'Honor her, that she may embrace you.'

For Zion is a mountain that rises visibly above the Acra of Jerusalem.

He, then, who exhorts you to embrace her, bids you grow together with the lofty manner of life, so that you may attain to the very acropolis of the virtues, which he indicates by riddle under the name of Zion.

And he who joins you in household union with Wisdom announces to you, as good news, the embrace that will come from her.

There is, then, a time to embrace Zion and to be embraced by Wisdom — the name Zion indicating the loftiness of the manner of life, while Wisdom, for her part, signifies through herself the whole of virtue in each of its parts.

If, then, we have come to know through what has been said the timeliness of embracing, through the same we have also been taught from what things separation is more profitable than union.

'For there is,' it says, 'a time to be far from embracing.'

He who has been made akin to virtue has been made a stranger to relation with vice.

Love of the one has produced hatred of the other.

When, then, the loving disposition has grown around the good (and this is what is timely), estrangement from its opposite has certainly followed.

If you have truly loved self-control, you have certainly hated its opposite.

If you look with love toward purity, you have plainly abhorred the stench of the mire.

If you have clung to the good, you have certainly become far from clinging to what is wicked.

But if one should apply what is signified by 'embrace' also to the acquisition of wealth, this saying too shows what kind of wealth it is good to wrap oneself around, and from what kind of possessions one should send away the embrace.

I know of a treasure that is to be earnestly sought — the one hidden in the field, not the one visible to all.

I know again of wealth that is to be held in dishonor — not the wealth that is hoped for, but that which appears before the eyes.

The voice of the Apostle teaches this, saying:

'While we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen;'

'for the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are not seen are eternal.'

If we have understood these things, we shall also, by means of them, have come to understand the saying that follows next.

'For there is,' it says, 'a time to seek and a time to lose.'

For he who has understood, through what has been examined, from what things it is fitting to keep oneself far in embrace, and to what things to be joined, would also know what it is fitting to seek, and of what things the loss is gain.

'For there is,' it says, 'a time to seek and a time to lose.'

What, then, is it that I must seek, so that I may attain the fitting time? But what ought to be sought the prophecy shows, saying:

'Seek the Lord, and be strengthened;'

'Seek the Lord, and when you find him, call upon him'; and, 'Let the heart of those who seek the Lord rejoice.'

I have come to know, then, through what has been said, what it is that must be sought — that of which the finding is itself the very act of always seeking.

For seeking is not one thing and finding another, but the gain from seeking is the very seeking itself.

Do you wish to learn also the right season, what is the time for seeking the Lord? I say it concisely:

for in this alone the whole of life is the one season of diligence.

For seeking the Lord is not good at some appointed occasion and a fixed period of time, but never at all to cease, ever seeking — this is the true right season.

"For my eyes," he says, "are ever toward the Lord."

Let us likewise understand also the season for losing, judging it a gain to lose that whose existence becomes a loss to the one who has it.

Love of money is an evil possession;

resentment is a wicked treasure laid up;

unbridled desire is a destructive possession;

of this above all others let us become poor, that through such poverty we may gain the kingdom.

"For blessed are the poor in spirit" — evidently those who are poor with respect to such wealth, and to all the other evil treasures of the devil.

More blessed indeed is never to have acquired anything from the beginning, that we might altogether be without possession of the things that defile; but no less good is it, for one already overtaken by such evil acquisition, to lose such possessions and bring them to destruction.

But never at all to have had a share in such things is beyond human nature, whereas to have received them and yet blot them out — of this even human power has the strength.

Wherefore to have had nothing of the possessions of the adversary belongs to the Lord alone, who shared with us in the same sufferings, apart from sin.

"For the ruler of this world comes," he says, "and finds nothing of his own in me."

But to cleanse oneself thoroughly through careful repentance — this too one may see among human beings who make themselves resplendent through virtue.

Paul lost the wicked possession of unbelief through the grace of prophecy working in him, and he became full of the treasure he had sought.

Isaiah, through the purging of the divine coal, was rid of every impure word and thought;

for this reason he was filled with the Holy Spirit.

Everyone, in partaking of the better, loses everything that is conceived as its opposite.

Thus the self-controlled loses licentiousness, the just loses injustice, the moderate loses arrogance, the well-disposed loses envy, the loving loses hatred.

For just as the blind man in the Gospel found what he did not have, by losing what he had —

for when blindness was taken away, the radiance of light entered in its place;

and in the case of the leper, when the affliction had vanished, the grace of health returned; and in the case of those raised from death, deadness withdrew at the presence of life;

so also, in the philosophy set before us, it is not possible to acquire any of the lofty things without having lost our zeal for earthly and lowly things.

For in finding these things, the more valuable things are lost to us; and conversely, the loss of these becomes the cause of finding the precious things.

These things we have learned from the voice of the Lord:

"He who finds his soul will lose it, and he who loses his soul for my sake will find it."

For the soul's being found among the things zealously pursued according to matter becomes the cause of its not being found among the true goods; and conversely, the deprivation and loss of these becomes the existence of the things hoped for.

"For what is a man profited, if he gains the whole world, but forfeits his soul?" "A time," it says, "to seek, and a time to lose."

If, then, we have learned what the sought-after gain is, which is found through losing those things wrongly acquired, let us seek the one and lose the other:

let us seek the good things, let us lose the evil things.

And the sequence of what is written follows well and fittingly upon what has already been examined.

"A time to keep, and a time to cast away."

What is to be kept? Evidently that which has been found by us through seeking.

What is to be cast away? Certainly that whose loss was judged to be profitable.

There has come to you a right thought; there has entered a desire to see God; your soul has thirsted for the strong, living God; there has come to you a longing to be in the courts of the Lord;

Now the courts of the Lord would be, according to my understanding, the virtues, in which the Word dwells, and everyone who follows the Word.

Keep these things, lest the wealth of your understanding's pure possessions flow away from you.

Some contrary reasoning stealthily creeps in, like a secret thief, working the destruction of pure thoughts;

this must be cast out and sent away from the understanding.

For in repelling it, the treasure of good things will be kept secure for us.

But if the one causing harm is not cast out, there will be no gain from the possession, since the abundance is draining away through the plotting of housebreakers.

Since, then, we have been taught the time for seeking — and "everyone who seeks finds" — in order that what has been found may remain, let us set a careful guard over the treasure.

"With all vigilance," it says, "keep your heart," after finding what was sought;

for greater than finding is keeping the grace that has been found;

for instance, one who has come to faith has found the purity that comes through the washing; but greater is the labor in keeping what he received than in finding what he did not have.

Just as, then, we said that the right season for seeking is not limited to some period of time, but that the whole of life is one season for that good seeking, so also we declare that the season for keeping is measured by the whole of life, adducing now the same word of prophecy, which says:

"My eyes are ever toward the Lord, for he will pluck my feet out of the snare."

For in this consists the inviolability of our good possession being kept safe for us — in making God the guardian of what is ours.

For when my eyes are ever toward the Lord, then the snares of the adversary become ineffective, by which he contrives his plot against the precious things in the soul.

"Do not give your foot to stumbling," it says, "and he who keeps you will not slumber."

This present saying, then, follows consistently upon what has gone before.

That we might find, this he counsels us to keep, that we might not lose.

And the manner of keeping good things consists in casting out what is conceived from the opposite;

just as in a city under siege, the garrison becomes more secure once traitors have been cast out; but as long as they remain within, the hidden ones plot more than the manifest enemies.

"For there is," it says, "a time to keep, and a time to cast away."

The sequence of the text that follows leads the soul to a certain higher philosophy concerning existing things.

For it shows that the universe is continuous with itself, and the harmony of existing things has no dissolution, but there is a certain sympathetic concord of all things with one another.

and the universe has not been severed from its own coherence, but all things remain in being, held fast by the power of that which truly is.

Now that which truly is, is goodness itself, or whatever name beyond this someone might devise as signifying that ineffable nature.

But how could anyone find a name for that which the divine word of the apostle says is "above every name"? Yet whatever name may be found to interpret that unutterable power and nature, that which is signified is in every case good.

This good, then — or that which is above the good — both truly is in itself, and through itself has given and gives to existing things both the power of coming into being and continuance in being; but whatever is contemplated as outside it is non-existence;

for that which is outside being does not exist in being.

Since, then, vice is contemplated as the opposite of virtue, and God is virtue entire, vice therefore is outside God; its nature is grasped not in its being something, but in its not being good;

for we have given the name "vice" to the concept of that which is outside the good.

Thus, then, vice is contemplated in opposition to the good, just as non-being is set in opposition to being.

Since, then, by the free self-determination of our impulse we have flowed away from the good, just as those who close their eyes in the light are said to see darkness;

for seeing darkness consists precisely in seeing nothing;

then the non-subsistent nature of vice was given a kind of substance in those who have flowed away from the good — a nature which exists only for so long as we are outside the good.

But if, on the other hand, the self-determining movement of our will should be torn away from its relation to that which does not exist, and should grow together with that which is, then that [evil], no longer having its existence in me, will have no being at all.

For evil, existing by itself apart from choice, does not exist at all.

But I, having cleaved and sewn myself to him who truly is, shall abide in Being — who always was, and always will be, and now is.

These, it seems to me, are the thoughts that the time to tear and the time to sew suggest: that, having been torn away from that to which we were badly joined, we might be attached to that to which attachment is good.

"For me," it says, "it is good to cleave to God, to place my hope in the Lord."

One might say that this counsel is useful with regard to many other things as well, such as: "Put away the wicked person from among yourselves."

This is what the divine apostle commands, ordering that the one condemned for unlawful union be torn away from the common fullness of the church, lest, as he says, a little leaven of the condemned man's wickedness should render the whole lump of the church's prayer worthless.

But the one torn away through sin he sews back again through repentance, saying, "lest such a one be swallowed up by excessive sorrow."

Thus he knows how to tear away, at the proper time, the stained part of the church's tunic, and again, at the proper time, to sew it back on, once it has been washed clean of its defilement through repentance.

And many such things may be seen both in the older narratives and in our own life — as many things as are accomplished by way of pastoral economy within the churches.

For you know from what things we are torn away, and to what things we are always being sewn.

For by being split off from heresy we are continually sewn fast into piety, seeing the tunic of the church as unrent precisely at the moment when it is torn away from communion with heresy.