提摩太前書講道集 第 4 章

'Faithful is the saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.'

'But for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might display all longsuffering, for a pattern to those who should hereafter believe on Him unto life everlasting.'

So great are the benefits of God, and so far do they surpass all human expectation and hope, that in many places they are even disbelieved.

For the things which the human mind neither conceived nor expected, these He has freely bestowed upon us.

For this reason the apostles too make much discourse concerning this, that the gifts granted to us from God might be believed.

For just as in the case of great blessings we experience this—saying, in our disbelief, 'Is it not perhaps a dream?'—

so also in the case of the gifts of God.

What then was it that was disbelieved? That enemies, that sinners, that those who had not been justified in the Law nor by works, should suddenly, through faith alone, attain to the foremost place.

Now much indeed he discourses concerning this main point in the Epistle to the Romans, and much also here.

'Faithful,' he says, 'is the saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.'

For since the Jews were especially drawn to this, he persuades them not to hold fast to the Law, since it was not possible to be saved through it apart from faith.

It is against this, therefore, that he contends.

For it seemed incredible that a man who had squandered his whole former life, spending it in vain and to no purpose amid wicked deeds, should afterward be saved by faith alone.

For this reason he says, 'Faithful is the saying.'

But some not only disbelieved, but even brought accusations—as the Greeks do even now, saying:

'Let us do evil, that good may come.'

For since they heard him saying, 'Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound,' those men, tearing our teaching to pieces, would say this.

So also, whenever we discourse to them concerning hell, they say, 'And how is this worthy of God, if a man who has taken his own servant that has sinned much against him lets him go and deems him worthy of pardon,

yet God punishes with undying torments?' And again, whenever we discourse to them concerning the laver and the remission of sins through it, they say, 'How is this worthy of God, that He should remit the sins of one who has wrought countless evils?' Do you see the perverse mind, how everywhere it displays its own contentiousness? And yet, if remission is an evil, then punishment is a good;

but if punishment is not good, then remission is good—

this I say according to their own reasoning;

for according to our reasoning both are good;

and how, we shall show on another occasion;

for it would not belong to the present subject.

For since it is a profound matter and requires much elaboration, we must set it before your charity at the proper time;

but for the present let us keep to the matters before us.

Whence is it faithful? Both from the things that go before, and from the things that come after.

See how he both prepares the ground beforehand, and, after having established it, dwells upon it.

For to say that He had mercy on one who was a blasphemer and a persecutor—this belonged to one establishing his point.

'And He did not only have mercy,' he says, 'but also made him faithful;'

'so that one ought not,' he says, 'to disbelieve that He had mercy.'

For no one, seeing the prisoner moving about in the royal palace, ever doubts that he obtained mercy;

which was just what one could see in the case of Paul.

For he makes the proof from himself, and is not ashamed to call himself a sinner, but rather rejoices in it.

For thus above all he is able to show the great marvel of God's providential care, and that he was accounted worthy of so great a lovingkindness.

But how is it that, though elsewhere he says of himself, 'As touching the righteousness which is in the Law, having become blameless,' here he says that he is a sinner, and the first of sinners? Because, compared with the righteousness which God wrought and which is truly sought after, even those under the Law are sinners;

'For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.'

For this reason he did not simply say 'righteousness,' but 'the righteousness which is in the Law.'

For just as one who has acquired much silver appears, in himself, to be rich, but by comparison with the treasures

of kings, is exceedingly poor, and the poorest of all;

so also here, when judged by comparison with the angels, men are sinners, even if they are righteous.

But if Paul, who wrought the righteousness that is in the Law, is the first of sinners, who then of the rest could be called righteous? For it is not by way of slandering his life as licentious that he says this—God forbid—but by comparing that righteousness with this, he shows it to be nothing;

and not this only, but he also declares those who possess it to be sinners.

'But for this cause I obtained mercy,' he says, 'that in me first Jesus Christ might display all longsuffering, for a pattern to those who should believe on Him unto life everlasting.'

Do you see how again he humbles and abases himself, alleging another, lowlier cause? For to say that he obtained mercy because of ignorance does not show the one who is pitied to be greatly a sinner, nor exceedingly condemned;

but to say that he obtained mercy for this reason, that henceforth none of those who have sinned should despair, but should take courage that he too shall obtain the same—this is exceedingly great and beyond measure.

So that, having declared, 'I am the chief of sinners,' and 'a blasphemer and a persecutor and an insolent man,'

and, 'I am not fit to be called an apostle,' and all that he has said;

yet he uttered nothing so lowly as this.

And by an illustration this will be made plain.

For let there be a populous city, having all its citizens wicked—some less, some more, yet all of them condemned;

and let some one man among those many be more deserving of chastisement and punishment than all the rest, and one who has gone through every kind of wickedness.

If, then, someone should say that the king is willing to grant pardon to all, they will not so believe the word until they see the one who is worse than all of them himself obtaining this.

For there is no longer any room for dispute.

This too is what Paul says: that God, wishing to give men full assurance that He forgives them all their sins, chose the greatest sinner of them all.

For, he says, when I have obtained pardon, no one could dispute concerning the rest.

It is as though someone were to say, even in common speech, 'If God has forgiven such a one, He will punish none of the others.'

And by this he shows that he was not even worthy of pardon himself, but that he obtained it first for the sake of the salvation of others.

Therefore let no one, he says, doubt concerning his salvation, seeing that I was saved.

And observe the humility of this blessed man.

He did not say, 'That He might display His longsuffering in me,' but 'all His longsuffering.'

'Upon no other than me,' he means, 'could He exercise longsuffering, nor find so great a sinner, one who needed His whole mercy, all His longsuffering, and not a part of it, as those do who sin only in part.'

'As a pattern,' he says, 'to those who should hereafter believe on Him unto life eternal'—that is, for their encouragement, for their exhortation.

But since he had uttered something great concerning the Son, and had said that He displayed so great a love, lest anyone should suppose that the Father was deprived of this glory, he refers glory to Him also, adding, and saying:

'Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever.'

'For these things,' he says, 'we glorify not the Son only, but the Father also.'

Let us then ask the heretics:

Behold, in speaking of the Father he has said, 'To the only God.'

Is the Son then not God? And, 'To the only immortal One.'

Is the Son then not immortal? And that which He gives us hereafter, does He not Himself possess it? 'Yes,' he says, 'He is both God and immortal, but not such a one as the Father is.'

What do you say? Not such a one, and of a lesser substance? Then also of a lesser immortality.

But what is a greater and a lesser immortality? For immortality is nothing else than the not being corrupted.

For glory indeed may be greater or lesser, but immortality is not greater or lesser—just as neither is health greater or lesser.

For a thing must either be corrupted, or not at all.

'What then?' he says. 'Are we too immortal in the same way?' God forbid!

Why? Because He possesses this by nature, but we [by grace].

Is it then thus also in the case of the Son? By no means!

For what reason then is there a difference? 'Because He,' he says, 'became such from no one, whereas the Son is such from the Father.'

And this too we confess.

For neither do we deny that the Son was begotten of the Father incorruptibly.

'For these things,' he says, 'we glorify the Father, that He begat such a One.'

Do you see that the Father is then most of all glorified, when the Son has achieved great things? For the deeds of the Son are referred to Him.

Therefore, when He is able to have begotten One even such as Himself, the glory belongs to the Son rather than to the Father—when He is self-sufficient, when He is sufficient unto Himself, when He is not weak.

But by the words 'King of the ages' something has also been said concerning the Son: 'By whom also He made the ages.'

For among us both these are divided—I mean the fashioning and the ruling—and one man constructs and makes and labours, while another rules.

Why? Because he who constructs is the lesser.

[But with God it is] not that the lordship belongs to one and the fashioning to another.

For neither, when I hear 'By whom also He made the ages,' do I take away from the Father His creative power;

nor, when I hear 'The Father is King of the ages,' do I take away from the Son His lordship.

For these things are common both to the One and to the Other;

for both belong to each of them.

The Father created in that He begat the Son as Fashioner;

the Son reigns in that He is Lord of the things created.

For He does not work for hire, as those among us do, nor in obedience to another, as these do, but out of His own goodness and love toward man.

But what? Was the Son ever seen? No one could affirm it.

What then is the meaning of 'To the immortal, invisible, only wise God'? And what when he says, 'For there is no other name whereby we must be saved'? And again, 'Neither is there salvation in any other'? 'Honour and glory,' he says, 'for ever.'

Honour and glory are not rendered by words.

Since then He too honoured us not by words, but by deeds and by works, so let us also honour Him by deeds and by works.

And yet this honour touches ourselves, while that touches Him not at all;

for He has no need of that which comes from us, but we have need of that which comes from Him.

So that even if we honour Him, we have again honoured our own selves.

For just as he who has opened his eyes in order to behold the light of the sun has benefited himself, in marvelling at the beauty of the star, but has conferred nothing upon it—

for he has not made it more brilliant, but it remains the same—

so likewise, and much more, is it in the case of God.

He who marvels at God and honours Him has saved himself, and has profited with the greatest profit.

How? Because in pursuing virtue he is glorified by Him;

for 'Those who glorify Me,' He says, 'I will glorify.'

'How then is He Himself glorified,' someone asks, 'seeing that He derives no benefit from our glory?' Just as He is also said to hunger and to thirst;

for He makes all our things His own, that even so He may draw us to Himself—both the honours and the insults—that even so we may fear;

and not even so are we drawn.

Let us then glorify God; let us bear God in our body and in our spirit.

And how, one asks, does a man glorify Him in the body? And how in the spirit? Here by 'spirit' he means the soul, in contradistinction to the body.

How then does one glorify Him in the body? And how in the soul? He glorifies Him in the body who does not commit fornication, who does not get drunk, who does not gorge himself, who does not adorn himself, who takes only such care of it as suffices for health, who does not commit adultery; the woman who does not perfume herself, who does not paint her face with colour, who is content with God's own moulding and contrives nothing artificial.

For tell me, why do you add your own contrivances to the workmanship that God has perfected? Has not your fashioning become sufficient for you? Do you then, as a better artisan, undertake to reshape His work? It is not so; rather, for this reason you adorn yourself and insult the Creator—that you may draw to yourself countless lovers.

'And what am I to do?' she says. 'For I too do not wish it, but I am compelled to do these things for my husband's sake.'

[compelled] to do these things for her husband.

It is impossible for a woman not to be loved if she does not wish it.

God made you beautiful, that even in this He might be marvelled at, not that He might be insulted;

do not repay Him with these gifts, but with chastity and modesty.

God made you beautiful, that He might increase for you the prizes of modesty.

For it is not the same thing to be chaste when one is desirable, and to be so when one is sought after by no one.

Do you hear what the Scripture says concerning Joseph? That 'He was comely and fair to look upon.'

How does it profit us who hear this, that Joseph was beautiful? That we may the more marvel at his beauty and his modesty.

Did God make you beautiful? Why then do you make yourself unsightly? For just as if someone were to smear a golden statue with the mud of a mire, so are those women who make use of cosmetic paints.

You bestrew yourself with earth—here a red pigment, there a white one.

'But it is the ill-favoured women,' someone says, 'who reasonably do this.'

For what purpose, tell me? That they may conceal their unshapeliness? But they labour to no profit.

For when, tell me, is the natural ever overcome by the artificial and contrived? And what harm does unshapeliness do at all, so long as it carries no blame? Hear a certain wise man saying, 'Do not abhor a man for his appearance, nor praise a man for his beauty.'

Rather, marvel at God the supreme Artificer, but no longer at her.

For what has come to be is no achievement of hers.

For what gain comes from beauty, tell me? None; but rather more struggles, greater insults, and dangers and suspicions.

For the woman who is not such no one would even suspect;

but she who is beautiful, unless she conducts herself with the utmost decorum and beyond measure, will at once receive an evil reputation;

and her husband too dwells with her in suspicion—than which what could be more grievous? He gains from the sight of her not so great a pleasure as the grief he reaps from his misgiving.

For beauty withers through familiarity, while the very soul takes on a reputation for slackness, dissipation, and wantonness, becoming coarse and filled with much folly;

for towards all these things comeliness rather draws one.

But the woman who is not such we should not find beset with many hindrances.

For there are no dogs leaping upon her, but like some ewe-lamb she grazes in deep tranquillity, with no wolf troubling or leaping upon her, since the shepherd sits close beside her.

It is no advantage that one woman should be beautiful and another not;

the real advantage is when one, though not beautiful, plays the harlot, while another, though beautiful, is nonetheless wicked.

For tell me, what is the excellence of eyes? Is it to be moist and mobile and round and dark, or to be keen and clear-sighted? For my part I say it is the latter, and this is evident from the following:

What is the excellence of a lamp? Is it to shine brightly and illumine the whole house, or to be well moulded and round? We would surely say the former;

for the latter is a matter of indifference, but the former is what is sought.

For this reason too we constantly say to the maidservant to whom the task is entrusted, 'You have made a worthless lamp,'—

thus the lamp's function is to give light.

So too the eye, whether it be of this sort or that, is nothing, so long as it fulfils its use with all sufficiency;

just as it is called worthless if it be dim-sighted and does not have its whole composition perfectly ordered;

for we say that those who do not see, though their eyes are open, have worthless eyes.

For everything that does not fulfil its own use we call worthless.

And of the nose, tell me, what sort of excellence is there? Is it to be straight, planed smooth on either side, and to hold a symmetrical proportion, or to be well suited to smelling, and able quickly to perceive and to convey the scent to the brain? This surely is plain to everyone.

Come then, let us examine the matter further by an illustration. For tell me, of grasping instruments—vessels—which shall we say are well made: those that can seize accurately and hold fast, or those that are handsomely shaped? Clearly the former.

And what sort of teeth shall we say are good? Those that cut sharply and readily divide the food, or those that are well

arranged? Clearly the former.

And applying this principle to the whole body in our inquiry, we shall find all things healthy and beautiful so long as each of the members performs its proper functions with accuracy.

Thus too we call each vessel beautiful, and each animal and plant, not from its shape, nor from its colour, but from its serviceableness.

So too we call that household servant good who is serviceable to us for ministry, not the one who is handsome and slothful.

Do you see how it is possible to be beautiful? When therefore we alike enjoy the greatest and most wonderful things, we are in no way at a disadvantage.

We behold this world alike—the sun, the moon, the stars; we alike draw in the air, we alike partake of water and of food, whether we be comely or not.

And if one must say something even more remarkable, those who are not beautiful are healthier than the beautiful.

For the latter, as though guarding their bloom, do not give themselves to toils, but to idleness and a pampered, sheltered life, by which above all the activities of the members become the more sluggish;

but the former, plainly and without stint, since they have no such anxious concern about these things, expend all their strength thereupon.

Let us therefore glorify God, let us bear Him in our body, and let us not beautify ourselves;

this zeal is superfluous and unprofitable.

Let us not train our husbands to love mere outward looks;

for if you are adorned in this fashion, he is quickly captured by the harlot, having been schooled by your countenance;

but if you teach him to love character and decorum, he will not quickly play the fornicator;

for he does not find these things in the harlot, but their opposites.

Do not therefore teach him to be captivated by laughter, nor by a loose and dissolute demeanour, lest you concoct the poisons against your own self.

Train him to delight in decorum;

and you will be able to do this when your own bearing too is such;

since if you are flighty and prodigal, how will you be able to utter a grave word? And who will not scoff at you and laugh? But how is it possible even in the body to bear God aloft? By practising virtue, by beautifying the soul;

for even in her case this is not forbidden.

Thus we glorify God, when we are good in every respect; and we ourselves also shall be glorified in that day, not in like manner, but far more abundantly.

'For I reckon,' he says, 'that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us.'

Of which may it be granted us all to partake, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.