哥林多前書講道集 第 4 章

For the word of the cross is to those who are perishing foolishness, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the understanding of the prudent I will set aside;'

'Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age?'

To those who are sick and at the point of death, even wholesome food is distasteful, friends and kinsfolk are burdensome, and often they are not even recognized, but seem to be a nuisance.

Even so is it wont to happen also to those who are perishing in their souls;

for they are ignorant of the things that lead to salvation, and they think that those who care for them are troubling them.

But this comes about not because of the nature of the matter, but because of their disease.

And just as those who are delirious behave, growing hostile toward those who tend them, and moreover reviling them,

this same thing the unbelievers also suffer.

But just as in their case those who are reviled then most of all pity them and weep, taking this as the ultimate proof of the heightened sickness, when they fail to recognize their dearest ones;

so let us also do in the case of the Greeks, and let us wail over them more than women, because they are ignorant of the common salvation.

For a wife ought not so to love her husband, as we ought to love all men, and to draw them toward salvation, even if...

Let us therefore lament them, because the word of the cross is foolishness to them, though it is itself wisdom and power;

for 'the word of the cross,' he says, 'is to those who are perishing foolishness.'

For since it was likely that those believers, when the cross was being mocked by the Greeks, would set themselves in opposition with the wisdom supposedly their own, and would wage war, being thrown into confusion by the things said by the Greeks, Paul, consoling them, says:

Do not think that anything strange or paradoxical is taking place.

This matter has such a nature, that its power is not recognized by those who are perishing;

for they are beside themselves and delirious.

For this reason they even revile and are ill-disposed toward the saving remedies.

But what do you say, O man? Christ became a slave for your sake, taking the form of a servant, and was crucified and rose again;

and though you ought, once He had risen, on this account to worship Him and to marvel at His loving-kindness—that what neither father nor friend nor son did for you, all this the Master wrought for you, His enemy who had offended Him—

and though therefore you ought to marvel at Him for these things, you instead call foolishness a matter so full of wisdom? Yet it is nothing to wonder at;

for it belongs to those who are perishing not to recognize the things that lead to salvation.

for what is happening is neither strange nor contrary to expectation—that great things should be mocked by those who are out of their senses.

But those who are so disposed it is not possible to persuade by human wisdom;

rather, even if you should wish to persuade them thus, you do the very opposite;

for the things that surpass reasoning need faith alone.

For indeed, if we should wish to persuade by reasonings how God became man, and entered into a virgin's womb, and should not entrust the matter to faith, all the more will they laugh us to scorn.

So then, those who seek by reasonings, these are the ones who are perishing.

And why do I speak concerning God? For if we should do this even in the case of created things, much laughter will follow.

For suppose there is a man wishing to learn everything by reasonings, and let him try to be persuaded by your word how we see the light;

and do you try to persuade him by reasoning.

For if you say that it is enough to open the eyes and see, you have not stated the manner, but the fact.

For why do we not see with the hearing, he says, and hear with the eyes? And why do we not hear with the nose, and smell with the hearing? If then, when he is at a loss concerning these things, we are not able to render the account of them, is he going to laugh? Shall we not laugh him to scorn all the more? For if both faculties have their origin from one brain, and both members are neighbors to one another, how is it that they cannot do the same things? But we shall not be able to state the cause, nor the manner of that ineffable and manifold operation; rather, even if we attempt it, we are laughed at.

For this very reason, yielding to the power of God and to His boundless wisdom, let us keep silence.

So then, if we should wish to establish the things of God by the outward wisdom, much laughter will follow, not because of the weakness of the matters, but because of the folly of men.

For no word can set forth the great things.

When I say, 'He was crucified,' the Greek retorts:

And how could this stand to reason? He did not defend Himself when He was being crucified and put to the test at the hour of the cross; and how then did He afterward rise again and defend others? For if He were able, He ought to have done it before His death (this indeed is what the Jews also said);

but He who did not defend Himself, how did He defend others? It would have no reason, he says.

And indeed, O man, the cross is beyond reason and of unspeakable power.

For to be found, in the midst of terrors, superior to those very terrors, and, having grappled with them, to conquer, is the mark of boundless power.

For just as, in the case of the three children, it was more wonderful that they entered and trampled down the flame than that they should not have entered the furnace;

and in the case of Jonah, that he fell in and suffered nothing unpleasant from the beast was far greater than that he should not have fallen into the sea-monster;

so also in the case of Christ, that He died and dissolved death was more marvelous than that He should not have died.

Why did He not defend Himself on the cross? Because He was hastening to grapple with death itself.

He came down from the cross, not because He could not remain, but because He would not.

For He whom the tyranny of death could not hold fast, how could the nails of the cross have held Him? (2)

But these things are familiar to us, while to unbelievers they are not so.

For this reason he said that the word of the cross is to those who are perishing foolishness, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the understanding of the prudent I will set aside.'

For the time being he lays down nothing burdensome of his own; but first he comes to the testimony of Scripture, and then, having taken his boldness from thence, he uses his words more forcefully, and says:

Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe.

Having said, 'It is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,' he brings forward the proof drawn from the facts themselves, saying:

Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? — laying hold at once of both Greeks and Jews.

For what philosopher, what man given to syllogisms, what man versed in the learning of the Jews, ever saved anyone and made known the truth? There is none; but the whole work has been accomplished by the fishermen.

Having therefore concluded the matter before him, and cast down their arrogance, and having said:

Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? — he states also the cause for which these things have come to pass thus.

For since, he says, in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, the cross appeared.

But what is meant by, 'In the wisdom of God'? That wisdom which is manifested through His works, by which He willed to be made known.

For this is why He fashioned them, and fashioned them such as they are, that from the things seen the Maker might, by analogy, be marveled at.

Great is the heaven, and boundless in extent is the earth;

marvel then at Him who made them.

For this great heaven not only came into being by Him, but with ease; and that boundless earth was itself also brought forth as though it were nothing.

For this reason concerning the former he says, 'The heavens are the works of Thy fingers';

and concerning the earth, 'He who made the earth as nothing.'

Since therefore through this wisdom the world was not willing to come to know God, He persuaded them through what seemed to be the foolishness of preaching — not through reasonings, but through faith.

For the rest, where there is the wisdom of God, there is no longer need of human wisdom.

For to say that it is likely the One who created the world, so great and so vast, is God, possessing some resourceless and unutterable power, and to apprehend Him through these things — this was to reason by human wisdom.

But now there is no longer need of reasonings, but of faith alone.

For to believe in Him who was crucified and buried, and to be fully assured that this same One both rose again and sits on high — this needs neither wisdom nor reasonings, but faith.

For the apostles too came not by wisdom but by faith, and became wiser and loftier than the wise men without; and so much the more, inasmuch as to receive the things of God by faith is greater than to set reasonings in motion;

for this surpasses human understanding.

But how did He destroy wisdom? By being made known to us through Paul and men like him, He showed it to be useless.

For with respect to receiving the gospel proclamation, neither is the wise man helped at all by his wisdom, nor is the unlearned man harmed at all by his ignorance;

but, if one must say something even marvelous, plainness is rather than wisdom fitted and easier for receiving it.

For the shepherd and the rustic will receive it more quickly, since he at once represses his reasonings and delivers himself over to the Master.

Thus, then, He destroyed wisdom.

For since it first cast itself down, it is henceforth useful for nothing.

For when it ought to have displayed its own resources and to have seen the Master through His works, it was unwilling.

For this reason, even if it should now wish to introduce itself, it cannot;

for such is not the nature of the matter;

for this way, the way of the knowledge of God, is far greater than that other.

Therefore there is need of faith and of simplicity, and one must everywhere seek after this, and prefer it to the wisdom that is from without;

for God, he says, made foolish the wisdom.

But what is meant by 'made foolish'? He showed it to be foolish with respect to the apprehension of faith.

For since they were highly conceited over it, He quickly convicted it.

For what sort of wisdom is it, when it does not find the sum of good things? He therefore made it appear foolish, since it first convicted itself.

For if, when it was possible to find by reasonings, it showed nothing, now, when the matters at stake are greater, how will it be able to accomplish anything, when there is need of faith alone and not of cleverness? God therefore showed it to be foolish;

and it pleased Him through the foolishness of preaching to save — foolishness not that really is such, but that seems to be such.

For this is the greater thing, that not by introducing another wisdom greater than that one, but by that which seemed to be foolishness, He thus prevailed.

For indeed He cast out Plato, not by means of another and wiser philosopher, but by means of an unlearned fisherman.

For thus the defeat became the greater, and the victory more brilliant.

Then, showing the power of the cross, he says:

Since the Jews also ask for signs, and the Greeks seek after wisdom;

but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block, and to the Greeks foolishness; but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

Great is the intelligence of these words.

For he wishes to say how God prevailed through the very opposites, and how the preaching is not something human.

And what he says is this:

When we say to the Jews, he says, 'Believe,' they answer, 'Raise the dead, heal those possessed by demons, show us signs.'

But we, in place of these things, what do we say? That He who is proclaimed was crucified and died.

And this is sufficient not only to fail to draw those who are unwilling, but even to repel those who are willing;

and yet it does not repel, but draws and takes hold and prevails.

Again, the Greeks demand of us rhetoric of words and cleverness of sophisms;

but to these also we preach the cross;

and what in the case of the Jews seems to be weakness, this in the case of the Greeks is foolishness.

When therefore we not only do not supply what they ask, but even things contrary to what they ask;

For the cross, when examined by reasoning, not only does not seem to be a sign, but is even the abolition of a sign;

and it not only does not seem to be a demonstration of power, but is even a proof of weakness;

it not only does not seem to be a display of wisdom, but is even reckoned as folly.

When, therefore, those who seek signs and wisdom not only do not receive the very things they ask for, but even hear the opposite of what they desire, and are then persuaded through those very opposites, how is the power of the message proclaimed not unspeakable? It is as if, in the case of one tossed by the waves and longing for a harbor, you were able—instead of showing him a harbor—to make him follow you graciously to another part of the open sea more savage still;

or as if a physician, to a man who is wounded and longing for medicines, should promise to make him whole not by medicines but by cauterizing, and should draw him to himself (for this is the mark of great power);

so also the apostles prevailed not only without a sign, but even through a thing that seemed to be contrary to signs;

which is the very thing Christ did also in the case of the blind man.

For desiring to heal him, He removed the blindness through a thing that intensified the loss of sight;

just as, then, He healed the blind man by means of clay, so also He drew the whole world to Himself by means of the cross;

which was an addition to the stumbling-block, not a removal of the stumbling-block.

So too He did in the creation, fashioning contrary results by contrary means.

With sand, at any rate, He walled up the sea, curbing the strong by the weak;

upon water He set the earth, contriving that the heavy and dense should be borne upon that which is loose and fluid.

Again, through the prophets He made iron float upon a little piece of wood.

So indeed also by the cross He drew the whole world to Himself.

For as the water bears up the earth, so also the cross bears up the whole world.

It is therefore a demonstration of great power and wisdom to persuade through contraries.

For indeed the cross seems to be a thing of stumbling, yet nonetheless it not only does not cause offense, but even draws men to itself.

Having pondered all these things, then, Paul

and being amazed, said that 'the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men';

speaking of the cross as foolish and weak—not that it is so, but that it seems so;

for he answers with a view to their supposition.

For what the philosophers were not able to accomplish by their syllogisms, this that seeming folly set right. Who then is the wiser? He who persuades the many, or he who persuades few, or rather none at all? He who persuades concerning the greatest matters, or he who does so concerning things of no account? How much toil did Plato and those about him expend in discoursing to us about line and angle and point, and even and odd numbers, and things equal and unequal to one another, and suchlike cobwebs (for indeed these things are more useless to life than those spiders' webs), and having profited life thereby neither greatly nor in any small degree, he thus ended his life!

How much toil did he expend in attempting to show that the soul is immortal, and yet, having said nothing clear nor persuaded any of his hearers, he thus departed!

But the cross persuaded through unlearned men, and drew the whole world to itself, having discoursed not about ordinary matters, but about God and true godliness, and the gospel manner of life, and the judgment to come;

and it made all men philosophers—the rustics, the unlearned.

See how the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness stronger.

How stronger? Because it overran the whole world, and took all men by force, and though countless men strove to extinguish the name of the Crucified, the contrary came to pass.

For this name flourished and increased the more, while those men perished and were destroyed; and the living, warring against the one who had been put to death, availed nothing.

So that whenever the Greek calls me foolish, then he shows himself to be foolish in the extreme;

when I, though reckoned foolish by him, appear wiser than the wise;

when he calls me weak, then he shows himself to be the weaker.

For the things which tax-gatherers and fishermen were able to set right by the grace of God, these the philosophers and orators and tyrants, and, in a word, the whole world, running about after them by the thousand, were not able even to imagine.

For what did the cross not bring in? The doctrine concerning the immortality of the soul, that concerning the resurrection of bodies, that concerning the contempt of things present, that concerning the desire of things to come.

And it made men into angels, and all men everywhere pursue wisdom and display every kind of courage.

'But among them also,' he says, 'there have been many who despised death.'

Who, tell me? Was it the man who drank the hemlock? But if you wish, I will furnish you ten thousand such from the Church.

For if it had been possible, when persecution overtook them, to depart by drinking hemlock, they would all have become more illustrious than he.

Besides, that man, not being master of whether to drink or not to drink, drank;

but he had to suffer this whether willing or unwilling, which was no longer a matter of courage, but of necessity.

For indeed both robbers and murderers, when they came under the sentence of their judges, suffered more grievous things.

But with us it is altogether the contrary;

for the martyrs endured not unwillingly, but willingly, and being masters of whether to suffer or not, they displayed a courage firmer than any adamant.

It is therefore no marvelous thing if that man drank the hemlock, being no longer master of not drinking, and having reached the extremity of old age;

for indeed he said he was seventy years old when he despised life—if indeed this too is to despise it;

for I, at least, would not say so; or rather, neither would any other man.

But show me one who endured torments for godliness' sake, even as I can show ten thousand everywhere throughout the world.

Who, when his nails were being torn out, bore it nobly? Who, when his joints were being dug up? Who, when his body was being ravaged piecemeal? Who, when the bones of his head were being pried apart with a lever? Who, being set continually upon frying-pans? Who, being cast into a cauldron? Show me these.

For to die by hemlock is much the same as to fall asleep and remain so;

for indeed this death is said to be sweeter than sleep.

But if some also endured torments, yet the praise even of these has perished;

for they perished for a shameful cause—some as having divulged forbidden secrets, some as having attempted a tyranny, some as convicted of the basest crimes;

while others carried themselves off to no purpose and in vain and without cause, there being no reason at all.

For this reason the deeds of those men have been buried in silence, while these of ours flourish and increase day by day.

Pondering which, Paul said:

'The weakness of God is stronger than all men.'

For that the preaching is divine, is plain from this also.

For whence did it come into the mind of twelve men, and those unlearned, to attempt such great things—men who spent their lives on lakes, on rivers, in desert places, never having set foot quickly into a city or into a marketplace? Whence did it come upon them to array themselves against the whole world? For that they were timid and unmanly, he who wrote about them shows, and did not shrink back, nor endure to cast a veil over their defects—which very thing is also a very great token of the truth.

What then does this man say concerning them? That, when Christ was seized, after countless miracles, some fled, while the one who remained, being chief of the rest, denied Him.

Whence then did those who, while Christ was living, could not bear the Jewish onslaught, when He was dead and buried and had not risen (as you say), nor conversed with them, nor put courage into them—whence did they set themselves in array against so great a world? Would they not have said to themselves, 'What can this mean? He could not save Himself, and will He stand as our champion? He did not defend Himself while living, and will He stretch out a hand to us now that He is dead? He Himself, while living, subdued not one single nation, and shall we persuade the whole world by uttering His name?' And how could it be reasonable not only to do these things, but even to conceive them at all? Whence it is plain that, unless they had seen Him risen and received the greatest proof of His power, they would not have cast so great a die.

For even if they had ten thousand friends, would they not straightway have made all men their enemies, by disturbing ancient customs and removing ancestral boundaries? But as it was, they had all men for foes, both their own kinsmen and strangers.

For even if they had been respected by all outsiders, would not all men have abhorred them for introducing a new manner of life? But as it was, they were destitute of all, and it was likely that from this too they would become hateful to all and easily despised.

For whom will you name? The Jews? But they had unspeakable hatred toward them because of what had been done to their Teacher.

But the Greeks? But these too turned away from them no less than those, and the Greeks know this best of all.

For Plato, who wished to introduce some new form of polity—or rather a part of a polity—and did not alter the ordinances of the gods, but simply brought in some practices in place of others, was in danger of dying when he was cast out of Sicily;

and when this did not come to pass, he lost his very liberty.

And had not a certain barbarian proved gentler than the tyrant of Sicily, nothing would have hindered the philosopher from being a slave forever in a foreign land.

And yet it is not the same thing to innovate concerning kingship and concerning religion;

for this above all disturbs and troubles men.

For to say that 'so-and-so and such-a-one should marry such-a-woman,' and that 'the guardians should be guardians in this manner,' is not very capable of causing an uproar;

And this especially, when these things lie written in a book, and there is no great earnestness on the part of the lawgiver to bring the words spoken into deed.

But to say that those who are worshipped are not gods, but that they are demons, and that He who was crucified is God — you know how great a fury this kindled, how great a penalty it would have made men pay, what a war it fanned into flame.

For Protagoras among them, because he dared to say, 'I do not know whether the gods exist,' — and that not while going about the whole world and proclaiming it, but in a single city — was brought into the utmost peril.

And Diagoras of Miletus, and Theodorus who is called the Atheist — although they had friends and the power that comes from eloquence, and were admired for their philosophy — yet none of these things availed them anything.

And even the great Socrates, who surpassed all their philosophers in wisdom, drank the hemlock for this very cause, because he was suspected of innovating somewhat in the matter of the gods.

If a mere suspicion of innovation brought so great a danger upon men who were philosophers and wise and had enjoyed countless services, so that not only did they not accomplish what they wished, but were themselves cast out of both life and country — how do you not wonder and stand amazed, seeing the fisherman working such great things throughout the world, and achieving what he set out to do, and prevailing over both barbarians and Greeks, all of them? 'But these men,' one says, 'did not, like those others, introduce strange gods.'

Nay, this is the very thing I call most marvellous — that the innovation was twofold: both to pull down the gods that were, and to proclaim Him who was crucified.

For whence came it into their mind to preach such things? whence to be confident concerning their outcome? Whom of those before them could they see having achieved anything of the kind? Did not all worship demons? Did not all deify the elements? Was not the manner of their impiety diverse? Yet nevertheless they assailed all these things, and overthrew them, and in a brief time overran the whole world, like winged creatures, reckoning nothing of dangers, nor of deaths, nor of the difficulty of the undertaking, nor of their own fewness, nor of the multitude of their adversaries, nor of authority, nor of dominion, nor of the wisdom of those who warred against them.

For they had an ally greater than all these — the power of Him who was crucified and rose again.

It would not have been so marvellous if they had chosen to wage a visible war against the world, as is this thing which has now come to pass.

For in the law of ordinary warfare it was possible to stand over against the enemy, and taking up an opposing position, thus to draw up in array against the adversaries, and to have an opportunity for attack and for engagement.

But these had no camp of their own; rather they were mingled with the very enemy, and so overcame them.

And moving about in the midst of their foes, they slipped from their grasp, and got the better and won a brilliant victory, fulfilling the prophecy which says:

'And thou shalt have dominion in the midst of thine enemies.'

For this was the thing full of great astonishment, that though the enemies held them fast, and cast them into prison and into bonds, they not only did not prevail over them, but afterwards themselves bowed down before them — those who scourged before those they had scourged, those who bound before those they had bound, those who persecuted before those they had driven out.

All these things then we say to the Greeks — nay, even more than these.

For great is the abundance of the truth.

For if you follow along with the argument, we will teach you the whole of the contest against them.

But for the present let us hold fast these two heads: how the weak overcame the strong, and whence it came into the mind of men such as they were to plan such things, unless they enjoyed a divine alliance.

But let us in our works furnish forth the good deeds of life, and let us kindle a lavish fire of virtue.

'For ye are luminaries,' he says, 'shining in the midst of the world.'

And God has committed to each of us a greater office than to the sun — greater than heaven and earth and sea — and by so much the greater, as spiritual things differ from those perceived by the senses.

Whenever, then, we look upon the sun's disc, and marvel at the beauty and the body and the brightness of that star, let us reckon again that greater and better is the light within us, even as the darkness too is more grievous, if we take no heed.

For indeed a deep night holds the whole world.

This, therefore, let us overturn and dissolve.

There is night not among heretics nor among Greeks only, but also among many of us, both for the sake of doctrines and of life.

For many disbelieve the resurrection; many also fortify themselves with the doctrine of nativity; many observe omens and use divinations and auguries and signs;

and others make use of amulets and incantations.

But of these too we will speak later, when we have finished what concerns the Greeks;

for the present, hold fast what has been said, and join with me in the contest, drawing them over to us by your life and bringing them across.

For what I always say: he who teaches concerning the love of wisdom must first teach it in himself, and be an object of longing to those who hear.

Let us therefore be objects of longing, and let us dispose the Greeks kindly towards us.

And this will come to pass if we are prepared not to do evil, but even to suffer evil.

Do we not see the little children, when, being carried by their fathers, they strike blows upon the cheeks of him who carries them, how the father gladly allows the child to satisfy his anger, and when he sees him having spent his passion, brightens up? So let us also do.

And even as fathers with children, so let us converse with the Greeks.

For all the Greeks are children;

and this too some of their own have said, that those men are always children, and no Greek is old.

Now children cannot bear to take thought about anything useful;

so also the Greeks are always wishing to play, and lie upon the ground, being earth-fallen and grovelling.

Again, children, when we are conversing about necessary matters, perceive nothing of what is said, but are always laughing;

when we discourse about a kingdom, they laugh.

And even as from a child's mouth much spittle gushing out often defiles both food and drink,

so also the words which flow from the mouth of the Greeks are vain and unclean;

and even if you give them necessary nourishment, they grieve those who provide it by continual blasphemies, and require to be carried about.

Children again, when they see a robber coming in and carrying off the things within, not only do not resist him, but even smile upon the plotter;

but if you take away their little basket or their rattles, or any other of their playthings, they are grievously distressed and vexed, they are convulsed and kick the ground.

So indeed do the Greeks also: when they see the devil stealing away all their patrimony and that which holds their life together, they laugh, running to him as to a friend;

but if one take away a possession, or wealth, or any such childish thing, they lament, they are convulsed;

and even as children are stripped naked without shame and do not blush, so also the Greeks, wallowing with fornicators and adulterers, and stripping bare the laws of nature, and introducing lawless unions, are not turned back.

You have applauded loudly and praised;

but along with the applause take earnest care that these things be not said of you also.

Wherefore I exhort you all to become men;

for when we ourselves are children, how shall we teach those to be men? how shall we restrain them from childish folly? Let us therefore become men, that we may attain unto the measure of the stature appointed by Christ, and may obtain the good things to come, by grace and lovingkindness, and so forth.