帖撒羅尼迦前書講道集 第 4 章

'Wherefore I also, when I could no longer forbear, sent to know your faith, lest by some means the tempter had tempted you, and our labor should be in vain.'

'But now when Timothy came to us from you, and brought us good tidings of your faith and love, and that you have good remembrance of us always, longing to see us, even as we also to see you;'

'therefore, brethren, we were comforted over you in all our affliction and distress by your faith;'

'for now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord.'

A question is set before us today, one inquired into by many, and gathered from many quarters.

And what is the question? 'Wherefore,' he says, 'I also, when I could no longer forbear, sent Timothy to know your faith.'

What say you? He who knew so many things, who heard unspeakable words, who ascended even to the third heaven, does he not know, even while he is in Athens? And that, though the distance was not great, nor had he been parted from them long before;

'For being taken away from you,' he says, 'for a short season, in presence, not in heart.'

Does such a man then not know the affairs of the Thessalonians, but is compelled to send Timothy to know their faith?

'Lest by some means,' he says, 'the tempter had tempted you, and our labor should be in vain.' What then might one say? That the saints did not know all things? And that they did not know, one might show from many quarters.

one may learn, both from the earliest examples and from those that came after.

just as Elisha was ignorant concerning the woman;

just as Elijah said to God:

'I alone am left, and they seek my life.'

Therefore he heard from God: 'I have reserved to myself seven thousand men.'

So again with Samuel, when he was sent to anoint David:

'The Lord,' it says, 'said to him:'

'Do not regard his appearance, nor the stature of his height, for I have rejected him;'

'for God does not see as man sees;'

'for man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.'

And this comes to pass by reason of God's great care and providence.

How, and in what manner? Both for the sake of the saints themselves, and for the sake of those who believe in them.

For just as He permits persecutions to arise, so also He permits them to be ignorant of many things, that they may be kept lowly.

For this reason Paul too said:

'There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure;'

and again, that others also might not imagine great things concerning him.

For if from the miraculous signs they supposed the apostles to be gods, how much more would they have done so had they continually persisted in knowing all things.

And this too he himself again declares:

'Lest any man should account of me above that which he sees me to be, or hears anything from me.'

And again hear Peter speaking, when he had healed the lame man:

'Why do you gaze at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man to walk?' Now if, even when the apostles spoke and acted thus, nevertheless from these few and small occasions wicked suspicions were so bred, how much more would they have been from great ones.

And for yet another reason too were these things permitted.

For lest anyone should be able to say that it was not as men that they achieved what they achieved, and so all should become slack and supine, for this reason He shows that they too were subject to weakness, that He might cut off every pretext of shamelessness from those who wish to be perverse.

For this reason he is ignorant of things; for this reason too, though he often purposed to come, he does not come, that they might learn that there are many things he does not know.

Great, therefore, was the gain that came of this.

For otherwise there would still have been some saying, 'This man is the great power of God,' and certain others, 'It is this one and that one.'

If these things had not come to pass, what would they not have supposed? Here, indeed, there seems to be an accusation against them;

but to one who considers it accurately, it displays even great admiration for them, and the exceeding greatness of their trials is made manifest.

For if you told them beforehand, 'We are appointed to this,' and 'Let no one be troubled,' why then do you again send Timothy, as though fearing lest something befall that you do not desire? This, then, he does out of great love;

for those who love are suspicious even of things that are secure, by reason of their great fervor;

and this arose from the many trials.

For I said, indeed, 'We are appointed to this;'

but the exceeding greatness of the evils made me afraid.

Wherefore he did not say, 'Condemning you, I send,' but, 'No longer being able to forbear;'

What is the meaning of, 'Lest by some means the tempter should have tempted you'? You see that to be shaken in afflictions is a work of the devil, and belongs to that one's turning men aside? For when he cannot prevail against us ourselves, he in another way shakes the weaker through us;

which is a mark of surpassing weakness, and admits of no excuse;

just as he did in the case of Job, when he stirred up his wife;

'Speak some word,' she says, 'against the Lord, and die.'

But why did he not say 'shook,' but 'tempted'? Because, he says, I only suspected so much as that you had been tempted;

for he does not indeed call the temptation itself a shaking.

For it is he who receives the enemy's assault that has been shaken.

How great the tender affection of Paul!

He had no concern for the afflictions nor for the plots;

for I think that he had at that time remained there;

even as Luke says, that he remained in Greece three months, a plot having been laid against him by the Jews.

So he had no concern for the dangers, but for those who were being made disciples.

Do you see that he had surpassed every natural father? For we, in afflictions and dangers,

cast out the remembrance of all others;

but he so feared and trembled for his children, that even Timothy, the only comfort he had, both his companion and fellow-worker, this very man, in the midst of the dangers themselves, he sent to them.

'And lest,' he says, 'our labor should be in vain.'

Why? For even if they were turned aside, it was not by reason of your fault, not by reason of your negligence;

but nevertheless, even though these things be so, I count my labor to have been made void, out of my great love for the brethren.

'Lest by some means the tempter should have tempted you.'

But he tempts, not knowing whether he will cast a man down.

Then, while that one comes on even as though not knowing, shall we, who know that we shall utterly prevail over him, not be watchful? That he assaults us without knowing the outcome, He made plain in the case of Job.

For that wicked demon said to God:

'Have You not made a hedge about him within and without? Take away all that he has;'

'and surely he will bless You to Your face.'

If he sees anything weak, he sets upon it.

'And lest,' he says, 'our labor should be in vain.'

Let us all hear how Paul toiled.

He did not say 'work,' but 'toil;'

he did not say, 'and you also will perish,' but, 'our labor.'

So that even if something had befallen, it would have been but likely;

but since nothing befell, great is the wonder.

'These things,' he says, 'we expected, but the opposite came to pass;'

for not only did we receive no addition of affliction from you, but even consolation.

'But now,' he says, 'that Timothy has come to us from you, and has brought us good tidings of your faith and your love,'

'And has brought good tidings,' he says.

Do you see the exceeding joy of Paul? He did not say 'reported,' but 'brought good tidings.'

So great a good did he account their steadfastness and their love.

For it is necessary that, while their faith remains firm, this love too should be established.

And he also rejoiced in their love, because it was a token of their faith. 'And that you have,' he says, 'a good remembrance of us always, longing to see us, as we also long to see you.'

Not when we were present, nor when we were working miracles, but even now, when we are far off, and are scourged, and suffer countless dreadful things, you keep a good remembrance of us.

Hear how disciples are admired when they keep a good remembrance of their teachers, how they are counted blessed.

For it is ourselves we benefit, not those whom we love.

'Longing to see us,' he says, 'as we also long to see you.'

And this too gladdened them.

For to learn, when one loves, that the beloved knows this—that he is loved—is great comfort and consolation.

For this cause, brethren, we were comforted over you in all our affliction and distress through your faith;

for now we live, if you stand fast in the Lord.

What could be equal to Paul, who counted the salvation of his neighbours to be his own, being disposed toward all as the body is toward its members? Who now could utter such a voice? Or rather, who could ever be so minded? He did not think it right that they should be grateful to him for the trials he endured on their behalf, but he himself was grateful to them, that they were not shaken by his trials;

as if he were saying: The harm from the trials came to you rather than to us;

you were tried more than we—you who suffered nothing, rather than we who suffered.

Since Timothy, he says, brought us this good news, we no longer feel any of our sorrows, but, 'We were comforted in all our affliction.'

And not by this only, but also 'in our distress,' he says.

For nothing henceforth can touch a good teacher, so long as his disciples' affairs go forward according to his desire.

'Through you,' he says, 'we were comforted';

that is, you strengthened us.

For to have suffered and yet not to have given way, but to have stood nobly, is enough to establish the disciples.

But he does the very opposite, and turns the praise round upon them:

'You anointed us,' he says;

'you gave us to breathe again;

you did not allow us to feel the trials.'

And he did not say, 'we breathed again,' nor, 'we were consoled';

showing that he accounts both trial and death to be nothing other than the stumbling of those men, seeing that he even reckons their progress to be life.

How could anyone else have made plain either the grief over the weakness of the disciples, or the joy? He did not say, 'we rejoice,' but, 'we live,' meaning the life to come.

So that without this we do not even count living to be living.

Thus ought teachers to be disposed, and thus disciples, and then nothing amiss will ever come to pass.

Then, adding richness to this, see what he says:

For what thanksgiving can we render to God concerning you, for all the joy with which we rejoice for your sakes before our God, night and day praying exceedingly that we may see your face, and may perfect that which is lacking in your faith? You have become for us, he says, not only the cause of life, but also of great gladness, and of such gladness that we cannot even give thanks to God as is fitting.

We account your right conduct to be a gift, he says, of God;

in such wise have you done us good, that we deem it to be God's;

or rather, a work of God as well;

for so lofty a mind belongs not to a human soul nor to human effort.

'Night,' he says, 'and day praying exceedingly.'

And this too is a sign of joy.

For just as some farmer, hearing about his land that he has labored over, that it is laden with fruits, longs to behold with his own eyes so great a delight;

so also did Paul long to behold Macedonia.

'That we may see your face, and may perfect that which is lacking in your faith.'

For if you now live because they stand fast, and Timothy brought you the good news of their faith and their love, and you are so full of joy that you cannot even give thanks to God as is fitting, how is it that here you say there are things lacking in their faith? Are then those words mere flattery? By no means;

For before this he bore witness that they had endured many contests, and had fared in no way worse than the Churches in Judaea.

What then is it? They did not enjoy the whole of the teaching, nor did they learn all that they ought to have learned;

and this he makes plain toward the end.

And perhaps there was also inquiry among them concerning the resurrection, and there were many troubling them—no longer by trials nor by dangers, but by playing the part of teachers.

This is what he means by 'that which is lacking in your faith';

and for this reason he indicated it thus, and did not say 'that you may be established,' but 'to perfect.'

For where he was fearful concerning the faith itself, he says, 'I sent Timothy to establish you';

but here he speaks of 'perfecting that which is lacking,' which is a matter rather of teaching than of confirmation;

just as also elsewhere he says:

'That you may be perfected unto every good work.'

And that is 'perfected' which lacks but a little.

Now may God Himself, even our Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, direct our way unto you.

And may the Lord make you to increase and abound in love toward one another and toward all, even as we also do toward you.

This is the mark of surpassing love, not only to pray by oneself, but also to set the prayer within the epistle;

this is the mark of a fervent soul, and one truly unable to restrain itself;

this too is a proof of the prayers made there;

and at the same time it is also a defense, that it is not willingly, nor through slothfulness, that they do not come.

May God Himself cut off the trials which everywhere drag us about, so that we may come straight to you.

'And may the Lord make you to increase and abound.'

Do you see the unrestrainable frenzy of love, shown through his very words? 'Make you to increase,' he says, 'and to abound,' meaning 'may He cause you to grow.'

As one might say, He desires, as it were, out of abundance to be loved by them.

'Even as we also,' he says, 'toward you.'

That is: Our part is already accomplished;

but your part we ask may come to pass.

Do you see where he wishes love

to be extended? Not only toward one another, but everywhere.

For this is truly the mark of love according to God, to embrace all;

but if you love this one, and no longer that one, the friendship is according to man.

But ours is not of that kind.

Even as we also do toward you.

To the end He may establish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints.

He shows them that love brings gain, and that not to those who are loved but to those who love.

I desire, he says, that this love may abound, so that no blemish may arise.

He did not say, 'to establish you,' but, 'your hearts.'

For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts.

For it is possible, while doing nothing outwardly, to be wicked, as, for instance, to harbor envy, unbelief, guile, to rejoice over evils, to be unfriendly, to hold perverse doctrines.

All these things belong to the heart.

And to be pure from these things is holiness.

For, properly speaking, holiness is called chastity by way of preeminence, since fornication and adultery are also called uncleanness.

But universally, every sin is uncleanness, and every virtue is purity.

For, He says, blessed are the pure in heart.

By 'pure' He means those who are pure in every respect.

For I know that other things too defile the soul no less.

For that wickedness pollutes the soul, hear the prophet saying:

Wash your heart from wickedness, O Jerusalem.

And again: Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean, put away the wickednesses from your souls.

So that not fornication only, but the other things also defile the soul.

To establish, he says, your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints.

Christ, then, will at that time be the Judge.

And we stand to be judged not only before Him, but also before the Father.

Or else he means this, that we must become unblameable before God.

Which is what I always say, 'in the sight of God' (for this is the virtue that is sincere), not in the sight of men.

Therefore love makes men unblameable.

For indeed it truly makes them unblameable.

And once, when I was relating this to a certain man and saying that love makes men unblameable, and that affection toward one's neighbor does not permit any transgression to creep in, and was going through all the rest and pursuing the argument, one of my acquaintances put in a word and said:

What then of fornication? Is it not possible both to love and to commit fornication? Indeed this very thing arises out of love.

Covetousness indeed, and adultery, and envy, and plots, and all such things love toward one's neighbors will be able to cut off.

I therefore said that love is able to cut off this also.

For if a man loves the woman who plays the harlot, he will try to draw her away from other men, and not himself to add to the sin.

So that it belongs to one who exceedingly hates the harlot to commit fornication with her.

But it belongs to one who truly loves her to draw her away from that abominable practice.

And there is not, there is not any sin which the power of love does not consume like fire.

For it is easier for a paltry twig to withstand a great fire than for the nature of sin to withstand the power of love.

Let us therefore plant this in our own souls, that we may stand with all the saints.

For all those too were well-pleasing to God through their love toward their neighbor.

Why was it that Abel was slain and did not slay? Assuredly because he exceedingly loved his brother, and could not endure even to admit such a thought.

He could not even bear to admit such a thought.

Whence did Cain receive the ruin of envy? For I would no longer call him Abel's brother, seeing that the foundations of love were not securely fixed in him.

Whence did Noah's sons win esteem? Was it not because they exceedingly loved their father, and could not endure to look upon his nakedness?

And whence was the other one cursed? Was it not from not loving? And whence did Abraham win esteem? Was it not from love,

in that which he did concerning his nephew, and in the matter of his supplication on behalf of the Sodomites? For the saints were exceedingly, exceedingly tender-hearted and compassionate.

For consider with me how Paul is affected by love—Paul, who braved even fire, the adamant, the firm, the unbending, ever compacted together, riveted by the fear of God, the inflexible.

For who, he says, shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

He, then, who braves all these things, both earth and sea, who laughs to scorn the adamantine gates of Hades, whom nothing whatever could withstand—

this man, when he saw the tears of certain beloved ones, was so broken and crushed—the adamant—that he could not even hide his emotion, but said at once:

What do you do, weeping and breaking my heart? What are you saying?

Did a tear avail to crush that adamantine soul? Yes, he says.

For against all things I hold out, save only love.

This gets the better of me and masters me.

An abyss of waters did not crush him, yet a few little tears crushed him.

What do you do, weeping and breaking my heart? For great is its strength.

Do you wish to see him weeping again? Hear him saying elsewhere:

For three years, night and day, he says, I ceased not to admonish every one with tears.

Out of great love he was afraid lest some corruption should enter in.

For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you with many tears.

And what of Joseph, tell me—the firm, who stood against so great a tyranny, who was seen so noble against so great a fire of passion, who so struggled against and threw down his mistress's so great frenzy? For what did not then allure him? A comely countenance, the pride of rank, costliness of garments, the fragrance of perfumes (for these too know how to soften the soul), words softer than all things?

For you know that a woman in love, and so vehemently, will refuse to say nothing however abject, taking upon herself the guise of a suppliant.

For so was this woman broken down—she who wore gold and was in royal dignity—that she perhaps flung herself at the knees of the captive lad, and perhaps even besought him weeping and clasping his knees, and this not once, nor twice, but contriving it many times.

One might then see her eye above all shining.

For it is likely that she adorned herself not simply, but with much elaborate art, seeing that she wished to catch the lamb of Christ with many nets.

Add for me here also many enchantments.

But nevertheless this inflexible man, this firm one, this man turned to stone—when he saw his brethren who had sold him, who had cast him into a pit, who had disposed of him, who had even wished to kill him, who had been the cause both of the prison and of his selling—

when he heard from them what they had done to their father—

For let us say, he says, that one has been devoured by a wild beast—

he was broken down, softened, crushed, and wept.

And not enduring his emotion, he went in and wept there, that is, he wiped away his tears.

What is this? Do you weep, O Joseph? And yet the present circumstances are not worthy of tears, but of anger and wrath and indignation, of great vengeance and requital.

You have in your hands your enemies, your brothers' murderers; you are able to sate your wrath.

And yet not even this would be injustice.

For you yourself are not the one who begins unjust deeds; rather, you are defending yourself against those who have done the wrong.

Do not, I beg you, look to the dignity of my office in this matter;

it did not come about by their judgment, but by God's, who poured out His grace upon you.

Why do you weep? But he might have said:

Let it never be that, having been held in good repute in all things, I should overthrow all those good deeds through this remembrance of wrongs;

I am not more savage than the wild beasts;

even they make peace with their own kind, whatever dreadful thing they may suffer.

'I weep,' he says, 'because they treated me in such a way at all.'

Let us also imitate this man, and let us mourn over those who have wronged us;

let us not be angry with them;

for by such conduct they make themselves liable to punishment and condemnation.

I know how you weep now, how you rejoice, both marveling at Paul and being astounded at Joseph, and counting them blessed.

But if anyone has an enemy, let him now bring that man to remembrance, let him call him to mind;

so that, while the heart is still warm with the memory of the saints, it may be able to dissolve the hardened mass of wrath, and to soften what is rough and calloused.

I know that after our departure from here, after I have ceased speaking, even if some of the fervor and glowing heat remains, it will not be as great as it is now, in the very hearing.

If anyone, therefore, if anyone has grown cold, let him dissolve the frost;

for the remembrance of wrongs is truly frost and biting cold.

But let us call upon the Sun of Righteousness, let us beseech Him to send forth His rays, and there will no longer be thick frost, but sweet, drinkable water.

If the fire of the Sun of Righteousness touches our soul, it will leave nothing frozen, nothing hard, nothing scorching, nothing unfruitful;

it will make all things ripe, all things sweet, all things full of much delight.

If we love one another, that ray too will come.

Grant me, I beseech you, to speak these things with eagerness;

make me hear that from these words we have accomplished something;

that someone, going out to his enemy, at once threw both arms about him, embraced him, poured himself upon him, kissed him fervently, and wept.

Even if that man be a wild beast, even if he be a stone, even if he be anything at all, he will be tamed by this same kindness.

For why is he your enemy? Did he insult you? But he has done you no real harm.

But do you, for the sake of money, overlook your brother's continuing in enmity? Do not so, I beseech you.

Let us cut through the cords of our sins;

before we go away to the tribunal, let us ourselves judge one another.

'Let not the sun,' he says, 'go down upon your wrath.'

Delays give birth to procrastinations.

If you put it off today, you blush the more;

and if you add tomorrow, the shame is greater;

and if the third day, greater still.

Let us not, then, put ourselves to shame, but let us forgive, that it may be forgiven us.

And if it be forgiven, we shall obtain all the good things that are in heaven, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.