If nature were to beget and bring forth all things perfect, all things sturdy, all things in need of nothing, surely reverence would be abolished, ingenuity would fail, art would perish, gold would lie obscure in the earth, the gem would be hidden in the stone: yet both of these the craftsman's skill discovers, purifies, refines, and polishes; and that same art brings them even to the beauty and grace of a precious little chain; and what the earth produces from nature's bountiful spring is either roughened with thorns or, when wild rankness prevails, runs to forest, unless the diligence of the skilled farmer recalls it to its own cultivation. And, not to wander too far afield, let us bring an example from one homely and familiar instance of the things in which we take our stand. In the cradle the newborn man is already man in man, but he lies hidden; there is a body, and there is not; the limbs are seen, and they are not;
the parts live that are not yet vigorous in sense; reverence bends over it, diligence sweats, art labours; and to speak more fully, as many as are the members of the man, so many are the masteries that toil to perfect the man. And what more? All that nature begets or brings forth, reverence nourishes, diligence cultivates, art adorns. And what wonder, brethren, if God, who willed to suffer for man's sake, so as to honour man's diligence, willed in present things to weaken even nature? Hence it is that the meaning lies hidden in the letter, that the divine mystery is concealed in human speech; so that the things which to believers already lie open as still to come may be obscured to the faithless and unbelieving, and so the punishment of the unfaithful may redound to the glory of the faithful.
For it is no small torment not to discern what is seen, not to know what is heard, to shun the salutary as though harmful, to guard against virtues as though vices, the Lord Himself saying: 'I speak in parables, that seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not hear' (Mark 4; Luke 8); and to the faithful: 'But to you it is given to know the mystery of God' (Matt. 13). Let no one, therefore, brethren, hold the Gospel word to be either common in its simplicity or vile, especially since the very trumpet of the Gospel reading, sounding aloud, has foretold that it must be denied to those who ask rightly and desire piously, saying: 'For if two of you shall agree upon earth concerning anything whatsoever they shall ask, it shall be done for them by My Father' (Matt. 18).
You have heard how much the agreement of holy petition can accomplish and prevail: He did not say this thing or that, but promises His whole self, that He will grant whatsoever the unity of the asking shall desire, when He says: 'Concerning anything whatsoever they shall ask, it shall be done for them.' Yet with this caution and reverence preserved, that from God those things be asked which are worthy of God; for he who asks evils of God judges and deems God the author of evil; and because he prays for base and unworthy things, the degenerate petitioner is ignorant of the power and might of the Giver. Therefore not impious things, but pious; not earthly, but heavenly; not things suited to enticements, but to virtue; not things worthy of hatreds, but fitting for concord, must ever be sought from such a Bestower.
Where are those who presume that the assembly of the Church may be despised, and suppose that solitary prayers are to be preferred to the venerable congregation, when He promises that, if two or three be placed together, He will be in their midst, and will grant all things whatsoever He shall be asked (Matt. 18)? He who denies nothing to so few, what will He deny to those who ask in the councils and congregation of the saints? So believing, the prophet glories that he has obtained this, saying: 'I will confess to You, O Lord, with my whole heart, in the council of the just and in the congregation' (Ps. 110). With his whole heart he confesses, who hears that all that he shall ask in the council of the saints is to be granted him. But some, under the appearance of faith, strive to excuse the sloth of their contempt;
so that, neglecting the ardour of the venerable assembly and congregation, they feign that they have deputed to prayer that very time which they have given and spent upon domestic cares; and while they are enslaved to their own desires, they despise and scorn the divine ordinances. These are they who scatter the body of Christ, disperse its members: nor do they suffer the form of the Lord's raiment to attain to its beauty, which the prophet, having seen it in spirit, thus sang: 'Beautiful in form beyond the sons of men' (Ps. 44). Each several member indeed has its own proper duty of office, which nevertheless it will then be able to fulfil, if, joined and fitted together, they attain to the beauty of the perfect body.
This, then, is the difference between the glorious fullness of the congregation and the presumptuous vanity of separation born of ignorance or negligence: that in the health and honour of a whole body the unity of the members is beautiful, while in the separation of the inward parts there is a foul, deadly, and horrible destruction. O man, what else has it taught you in your own body, either a union so divided, or a division so united, than that out of many you should live as one, and as one in many? By the salutary commerce of the members the eye is precious, but only if it perseveres in the body; otherwise, where it shall be lacking to the body, it shall not be present even to itself: all the members owe to it the service of their light;
but the eye itself also feels that it owes to the body that which is light, seeing that, though with all the members it provides the ministry of the members, once plucked from the body it does not even see. Whoever he be that thinks himself to be something, let him, instructed by such an example, remain in the Church, that he may be something; otherwise, where he shall be lacking to it, he presently ceases to be to himself. He who desires to know this more fully, let him read through the ordinances of the Apostle speaking of the body of Christ, since the friendly brevity of our discourse does not permit us to run through them (1 Cor. 12). The Law was given not to one, but to all; Christ came not for one, nor to one, but to all and for all; that He might reintegrate all into one, that sole good, that sole delight; and the prophet, foreknowing the future, thus proclaims:
'Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity' (Ps. 132). For not singularity, but unity, is acceptable to God. The Holy Spirit glides down upon the Apostles gathered into one, with the whole abundance of His fount (Acts 2), for whom the disciples were forewarned by the Lord's command that they should await His coming together. Brethren, he loses the divine gifts, forfeits the bounty of grace, is defrauded of the goods of charity, the blessing of unity shall not abide upon him, who, being of himself a maleficent, and out of his own defect foolishly self-sufficient, thus seeks a life apart from the Church, which the prophet testifies to be only within her, saying: 'Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity' (Ps. 132);
for there the Lord commanded the blessing and life for evermore. Blessed Andrew is deservedly believed to have been born today, when he was poured forth from the maternal womb not to the present life, but is known to have been begotten unto heavenly glory by the conception of the sword, by the birth-pang of martyrdom. When it was not the maternal cradle that received him wailing, but the triumphant secret places on high that received him victorious; when he did not draw the weak nourishment of milk from his mother's breast, but as a most devoted soldier shed the blood of valour for his King. He lives, because the warrior of the heavenly warfare slew death.
This one follows the Lord in dying, glowing and panting, and with every step of valour presses to cling to the Lord's footsteps, lest the course make him unequal to the brother whom nature had made like, calling had made his companion, and grace itself had made his equal. At the Lord's single word, like Peter he left father, homeland, and wealth: by labours, reproaches, journeys, insults, vigils, Christ bestowing it, he gave himself untiringly to his brother's fellowship. There is one thing only in which, at the time of the Lord's Passion, he fled; but not even in this was he unequal, since he fled. But if to deny be reckoned some fault, it is no graver to flee than to deny. But other things must be left unspoken: pardon, brethren, made equal those whom guilt had so distinguished.
And the fervour of martyrdom that followed proved the devout ones, whom the fear that went before had reproved. For the cross which they had fled, afterward with united strength they ardently assailed, that whence they had incurred guilt, thence they might mount to heaven, thence receive reward and crown. For Peter mounted the cross, Andrew the tree; that they who longed to suffer with Christ might express in themselves the figure and form of His own Passion, and, redeemed by the wood, might be consummated unto the palm. So our Andrew, even if he yields in order, yet yields not in reward nor in labour.
Since time does not permit us to number the various and manifold triumphs of the martyrs, over which the cruelty of the persecutor, so often mocked, groaned aloud, the whole prayer of our discourse takes refuge in her who deserved to have as many sons as days the world has received. Truly a mother of lights, a fount of days, who with the seven-fold gleam of her offspring shines throughout the whole world. Blessed she, who not only suffers for the Law, but the holy mother deserved to bring forth the sevenfold-symbol of the Law itself: a sevenfold-symbol, brethren, which was to illuminate not the secret of one temporal tabernacle, but to light up the eternal Church with sacred incense. Happy she, who deserved to bear as many pledges of virtues as that ark bore consecrated scrolls of the precepts (Exod. 25);
and as that ark taught by word, so this one taught by example. Even then, brethren, she begot them as martyrs, when she consecrated them by the sevenfold and mystical number of her birth. Hither, hither let holy Paul come, who still is in travail until Christ be formed in man (Gal. 4). Behold, the woman travails again and again, until infirmity be changed into strength, flesh transcend into spirit, earth be transferred into heaven. She burned, she panted, that in one day she might bring forth as holy martyrs those whom, scarcely as little ones, she had begotten through the courses of years. Behold the woman, behold the mother, whom the life of her sons made anxious, their death made secure. Blessed she, upon whom in the glory to come as many candlesticks stand as offshoots; blessed she, who sent forward so many to the kingdom; more blessed she, who lost nothing of her own in the world.
She ran about more joyful among the pierced corpses than among the dear cradles of her sons, because with inward eyes she beheld as many prizes as wounds; as many torments, so many rewards; as many victims, so many crowns. And what more, brethren! She is not, she is not a true mother, who knows not how so to love her sons. This present day is illustrious with the crown of the baptism-of-blood of the martyr Lawrence, whose merits as an outstanding martyr no part of the Roman world is ignorant of. He suffered in the very head of the nations, that is, in the very city of Rome. For there he served as deacon, and adorned the beauty of his youth with the blood of his very youth in its flower. His passion is remarkable, and greatly wonderful: this I shall briefly narrate, with the Lord's help.
At that time, when he was archdeacon, blessed Sixtus was bishop, whose triumph of martyrdom took place three days before. When, therefore, holy Lawrence was following his bishop Sixtus as he went to martyrdom, upheld by faith, yet sad in affection—not because the bishop was suffering, but because he himself was being left behind by him—the venerable old man looked back upon the venerable youth, and said to him: 'Do not be sad, my son; after three days you shall follow me.' Then that man, having drunk in the prophecy, already most ready in heart, drunk with the Spirit, hoped as certain the future which he had foretold who knew it. Then, being seized, he was led away: and since he was archdeacon, the wealth of the Church was of course believed to be with him, which the persecutor desired, not so much greedy as frenzied.
He hated him whom he was killing, but loved in him that which the other despised. Now holy Lawrence was poor in wealth, rich in morals: he did not deny that the Church had riches, but, in order to show them, he asked for a delay of three days; then he commanded the throngs of the poor to be gathered together. Then, on the very day of his crown, presented for examination, as though about to show what the other sought, he showed what he had. Then said the persecutor: 'Where are the resources of the Church?' But he, stretching out his hand over the poor, said: 'These are the resources of the Church.' He spoke the truth, but a bitter one. And what wonder if the truth increased the hatred?
The cruel tyrant and greedy enemy, grieving that he had been mocked, who perhaps had thought of a milder penalty—to slay the venerable youth by the sword—ordered flames to be prepared; he burned more than he scorched; he scorched in the flesh, he burned in the heart. His torment was the graver, the more inward it was. Then was brought forth, to be roasted, and to speak more truly, to be broiled by martyrdom, that noble gridiron of Lawrence: he was bound fast with iron, but he thought the gridiron of torment a couch of rest: I said 'torment,' according to the soul of the punisher, not according to the conscience of the sufferer. For there is no torment for the condemned where there is no penalty of sin. And so the most blessed martyr, showing how quietly he lay upon that fiery iron, said to the bystanders:
'Turn me now, and if one side is done, eat.' We marvel at his patience; let us marvel at the gift of God. There faith not only did not burn, but even consoled him as he burned. Why did faith console him as he burned? Because it held fast the faithful One who promised. That faith should not fail, that hope should not be turned away, that charity should be the more kindled amid the fiery bodily pains—these were the gifts of God. My brethren, let no one arrogate to his own power what God alone gives. Deservedly the Apostle, addressing the martyrs, as you heard when his Epistle was read today, says: 'To you it is given for Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for Him' (Phil. 1).
Therefore let us praise, love, and pray, the merits of the martyrs as gifts of God, and thereto let us subjoin our own will. For will follows, it does not go before. Yet charity is not lacking, if the will be not lacking; for that very ardent will is called charity. Who is there that fears while willing? Who is there that loves while unwilling? Let prayer glow, and let the martyr's feast be celebrated: but that he who celebrates be not empty, let him imitate. This the holy mind of the bishop Adelphus has, and his esteem full of piety, that the rich man should enter the lodging of the poor, place himself at the poor man's table, and make himself common with the humble, whom riches, power, and honour had made and rendered set apart.
For among the greatest virtues is to be numbered this will, which, despising the pride of its own homage, scorning the reverence of a magnificent house, treading down even the height of its own power, and casting off the inward consciousness of its own riches—whence the greatest swelling ever lords it in human minds—inclined itself to the meanest straits of poverty, that it might exalt the poor man by its own companionship. Plainly blessed is that mind, and removed from every disease of arrogance, which first entered this lodging of the poor, that it might be a debtor of humanity before it became a bestower. Manifestly this one longed to imitate God, who first took upon Himself human services in the body, before He granted divine benefits to man. Which we behold Adelphus, the present pontiff of the Most High God, to have done:
who, though he be rich in word, abundant in knowledge, great in genius, first in place, has coveted the hearing of our needy sense and mediocre eloquence, after the manner of that prophet who hungered for the widow's last morsel of food, and vexed the straits of her little ones with his own hunger, deferring by his petition a new ministry, so that by asking he might bestow, by hungering satisfy, and by emptying pile up the granary for the failing ones with divine bounty (1 Kings 17). And we, my little children, do not repent of having given what we had: because, even if the deed troubled us for a time, the example relieves and consoles. Speedily, at the word of this man of God, the smallness of our genius, like the widow's food, will advance to heavenly increase;
and thereafter, from the storehouse of our heart, not the substance of life shall fail, but that very poverty and defect shall be abolished. Happy the vein that is enriched by its own watering, and acquires and draws to itself the streams of its own well from abundance. Behold, He has come, and the heavenly shower has poured into your lofty souls; and with the full force of the supernal river, that which is in you He has watered the City of God with His inflowing, so that our earth, moistened with the divine dew, may be made fruitful even unto the hundredfold. Open your senses, enlarge your hearts, and stretch out the bosom of your mind: that whatsoever of these heavenly treasures this man shall lavishly pour out upon you, you may be able to possess unto eternal glory and perpetual wealth.