哥林多後書講道集 第 12 章

'And working together with Him we also entreat you that you receive not the grace of God in vain.'

'In an acceptable time I have heard you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.'

For since he had said that God entreats, 'and we also are ambassadors and beseech, Be reconciled to God,'

in order that they might not fall back into sloth, he thereupon again puts them in fear,

and rouses them up, saying, 'We entreat you that you receive not the grace of God in vain.'

For, he says, let us not therefore be negligent because He entreats and has sent those who should act as ambassadors;

but rather for this very reason let us hasten all the more to please God, and to gather together a spiritual merchandise (which also above he said, that 'the love of God constrains us';

that is, it afflicts, urges, presses hard), so that you may not, after so great care taken for you, fall back and, having displayed nothing noble, fall away from such great blessings.

Do not therefore, because He has sent those who should entreat you, suppose that this will always be so;

until His second coming this will be, until then He entreats, so long as we are here;

but after this comes judgment and punishment.

For this reason, he says, 'We are constrained.'

For not from the greatness of the blessings and the love toward mankind alone, but also from the shortness of the time, does he ever press them.

Wherefore also in another place he says, 'For now is our salvation nearer';

and again, 'The Lord is at hand.'

But here he does something even more.

For not merely from the fact that the remaining time is short and small, but also from the fact that this present season alone is suitable for salvation, does he urge them on.

'For behold,' he says, 'now is the well-accepted time, behold now is the day of salvation.'

Let us not therefore betray the opportune season, but let us display a zeal worthy of the grace.

For this reason we also press on, knowing both the brevity and the fitness of the time;

wherefore also he said, 'And working together with Him we also entreat you.'

For we work together rather with you than with God, on whose behalf we are ambassadors.

For He has need of nothing, but the whole of the salvation passes over to you.

But if he does also say that he works together with God, neither does he decline this;

for indeed in another place he says, 'For we are God's fellow-workers.'

In this way, he says, He saves men once more;

for He, when He entreats, does not simply entreat, but does so by putting forward these righteous claims:

that He gave His Son, the righteous One, Him who knew no sin, and made Him to be sin on behalf of us sinners, that we might become righteous;

which things, being possessed by Him, and being God, He need not even entreat—and that, men, and men who had offended Him—but rather ought to be entreated day by day;

but we entreat, having no righteous claim of our own to plead, nor any benefit conferred, but this one thing only—that we entreat on behalf of God, and of Him who has shown forth such things.

And we entreat you that you receive the benefit, and that you thrust not away the free gift.

Be persuaded therefore by us, and receive not the grace in vain.

For lest they should suppose that this alone is reconciliation—to have believed in Him who calls—he adds these words, requiring earnestness with respect to their manner of life.

For to have been delivered from sins and become a friend, and then to wallow again in one's former sins, is to return to enmity, and to receive the grace in vain, as regards the account of one's life.

For we gain no great benefit from the grace unto salvation, if we live impurely;

but rather we are the more grievously harmed, being weighed down by it even in our sins, in that even after such knowledge and gift we have returned to our former evils.

But this he does not yet set down, so as not to make his discourse harsh;

he only says that we gain no benefit.

Then he also reminds them of prophecy, pressing them and urging them on to rouse themselves toward laying hold of their own salvation.

'In an acceptable time I have heard you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.'

'Behold, now is the well-accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.'

What kind of time is this? The time of the free gift, of grace, when it is not required to render account for one's sins nor to pay the penalty, but along with deliverance to enjoy also ten thousand blessings—righteousness, sanctification, and all the rest.

For how much labour would it have been necessary to undergo, in order to attain this time? Yet behold, though we laboured nothing, it has come, bringing remission of all things past.

Wherefore also he calls it well-accepted, since He received even those who had transgressed in ten thousand ways, and not merely received them, but brought them up to the highest honour;

just as, when a king comes, it is not a time for the tribunal, but for grace.

Wherefore also he calls it well-accepted, so long as we are still in the arena, so long as we labour in the vineyard, so long as the eleventh hour yet remains.

Let us draw near, and let us show forth a good manner of life;

for he who contends in such a time, in which so great a gift is poured out, in which so great a grace, will easily obtain the prizes.

For indeed even in the case of earthly kings, in the time of their festivals, and when they appear in consular array, even he who has offered but a small thing receives great gifts;

but on the days when they sit in judgment, there is need of much strictness, much scrutiny.

Let us then also contend in the time of this gift;

it is a day of grace, of divine grace;

wherefore also we shall easily obtain the crowns.

For if He received and delivered us when we were laden with so many evils,

when we have been delivered from all things, and are bringing our own contributions, will He not much more receive us? Then, as he ever does, setting himself in the midst and bidding them take from thence the example, this too he does here;

wherefore also he adds, 'Giving no occasion of stumbling in anything, that our ministry be not blamed';

persuading them not from the time only, but also from those who had lived rightly.

And see how free from pride he is; for he did not say, 'Attend to us, because we are such men';

but for the present, with a view to removing accusation, he recounts the things concerning himself.

And he sets down two superlatives of a blameless life, saying, 'in nothing, any.'

And he did not say 'accusation,' but that which was far less, 'occasion of stumbling';

giving to no one any ground for condemnation against us.

'That our ministry be not blamed.'

That is, that no one may find fault with it.

And again he did not say, 'That it be not accused,' but, 'That it may not have even the chance occasion for blame, that no one may be able to lay hold of it in any respect whatsoever.'

'But in everything commending ourselves, as the ministers of God.'

For it is not the same thing to be free of accusation, and to display such things that from every side one is manifestly a minister of God.

For it is not the same thing to be acquitted of accusation, and to overflow with praises.

And he did not say 'appearing,' but 'commending,' that is, proving ourselves by demonstration.

Then he tells also from where they became such.

From where then did they become so? 'In much endurance,' he says.

laying down the foundation of good things.

Wherefore he did not simply say 'endurance,' but 'much,' and he shows also the greatness of it.

For to bear one thing or a second is nothing great;

but he brings in also the snow-storms of trials, saying, 'In afflictions, in hardships.'

This is the intensity of affliction, when the evils are inescapable, and when a kind of necessity of dreadful things presses hard, from which there is no way out.

He means either the necessities of famine, and of the other necessary things;

or also simply those of trials.

'In stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults.'

And yet each one of these by itself was unbearable — even the mere being scourged, and the mere being bound, and the being able nowhere to stand still but driven about;

for this is what 'in tumults' means;

but when all things, and all together, come upon one, consider how great a soul it requires.

Then, along with the things from without, he sets down also the things from himself.

'In labours, in watchings, in fastings, in purity.'

By these he hints at the toils which he underwent, going about and working, and the nights in which he taught, or that even in them he laboured.

And along with all these things, he did not even neglect fasting, although indeed these things sufficed in place of ten thousand fasts.

By 'purity' here he means either again self-control, or the cleanness in all things, or incorruptibility to bribes, or even the preaching of the Gospel without charge.

What is 'in knowledge'? In the wisdom given from God, in the true knowledge;

not like those who think themselves to be wise, and boast in the education which is from without, but by this very thing are made the poorer.

'In long-suffering, in kindness.'

For these too belonged much to a noble soul — to bear all things with long-suffering, though provoked and stung on every side.

Then, showing from where he became such, he added:

'For in Him we accomplish all these things,' he says.

But observe when he sets down the help that comes from the Holy Spirit —

namely, when he has displayed the things from himself.

And he seems by this to say also something further.

What indeed is this? That we are filled with much of the Spirit, and from this also we prove our apostleship — from having been counted worthy of spiritual gifts.

For even if this is grace, yet he too is a cause of it — he who by right actions and by sweat drew the grace to himself.

And if one should say that, together with the things spoken, he indicates also this — that even in the spiritual grace he gave no occasion of stumbling — he would not miss the sense.

For indeed those among them who had received the tongues, and were puffed up, were blamed;

for it is possible even for one who has received a spiritual gift to use it not as one ought.

'But not so we,' he says, 'but also in the Spirit,' that is, even in the spiritual gifts we became blameless.

This was the cause of all good things; this wrought him into such a man; this also made the Spirit abide with him, through which all things were rightly accomplished for him.

Which he says in many places, that 'Not corrupting the word of God, nor adulterating it, did we continue.'

That which he always does — ascribing nothing to himself, but the whole to God, and reckoning even his own right achievements to Him — this also he has done here.

For since he had uttered great things, and had affirmed that he furnished a blameless life throughout all, and the highest philosophy, he ascribes these things to the Spirit and to God.

For neither were the things spoken ordinary.

For if even for one living in quiet it is difficult to act rightly and to be blameless, consider of how great a soul it was for one who was harassed by so many trials, and who shone through all things.

And yet he did not endure these things alone, but also far more than these, which he sets down next.

And the marvel indeed is not that he was blameless while sailing amid so many waves, nor that he endured all things nobly, but that he endured all things even with joy;

which he makes all plain to us through what follows, saying thus:

'By the weapons of righteousness on the right hand and on the left.'

Did you see the firmness of soul, and the vigorous resolve? For he shows that afflictions are weapons which not only do not cast down, but even fortify and make stronger.

And he calls 'left' the things that seem to be grievous;

for such indeed are the things that carry the reward.

For what reason then does he so call them? Either according to the supposition of the many, or because God commanded us to pray not to enter into temptation.

'Through glory and dishonour, through evil report and good report.'

What do you say? That you enjoy glory — do you count this to be a great thing? 'Yes,' he says.

How so? For to bear dishonour is a great thing;

but does the partaking of glory not require a manly soul? Manly indeed, and exceedingly great, so that one enjoying it may not be thrown headlong.

Wherefore he is of the same mind in this as in that;

for in both alike he shone.

But how does it become a weapon of righteousness? Because the being in honour on the part of the teachers leads many into godliness;

and this is a proof of good works, and this glorifies God.

And this too belongs to the resourcefulness of God, the bringing in of the preaching through opposite things.

Was Paul bound? This too was for the sake of the Gospel.

'For the things concerning me,' he says, 'have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the Gospel, so that the more part of the brethren, being confident by my bonds, dare more abundantly to speak the word fearlessly.'

Did he enjoy glory again? This too again made those men more zealous.

'Through evil report and good report.'

For he bore nobly not only those things that were in the body — the afflictions, and all that he enumerated — but also the things that fasten upon the soul alone;

for neither are these wont simply to trouble one.

At any rate Jeremiah, having borne many trials, grew weary at these, and, when he was reproached, said:

'I will not prophesy, nor will I name the name of the Lord.'

And David too in many places bewails reproach.

And Isaiah too, after many things, exhorts concerning this, saying:

Do not fear the reproach of men, nor be dismayed at their reviling.

And Christ likewise says to His disciples, 'When they utter every evil word against you falsely, rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for your reward is great in the heavens.'

He would not have appointed so great a reward, had not the contest been great.

For in the midst of torments the body also shares with the soul in its pains;

for the suffering belongs both to the body and to the soul.

Many, then, have fallen from these alone, and have destroyed their own souls.

And to Job the reproaches from his friends seemed more grievous than the worms and the wounds.

For there is nothing, nothing at all, more unbearable to those in anguish than a word able to bite the soul.

Wherefore, together with the perils and the toils, he sets down these things also, saying:

Many, indeed, even of the Jews, on account of the glory of the multitude, were unwilling to believe.

For they feared, not lest they should be punished, but lest they should be put out of the synagogue;

wherefore He says, 'How can you believe, receiving glory from one another?' And we might see many who despised all terrors, yet were overcome by love of glory.

This is the meaning of, 'Through evil report and good report.'

'As unknown, and yet well known.'

This is the meaning of, 'Through glory and dishonour.'

For to some they were well known and much esteemed, while others did not even deign to know them.

'As dying, and behold, we live.'

As men doomed to death and condemned;

and this he said to show both the unspeakable power of God and their own endurance.

For so far as concerns those who plotted against us, 'we died,' and all suppose this too;

but through God we escaped the perils.

Then, showing also for what reason God permits these things, he added, 'As chastened, and not killed;'

showing that a great gain accrued to them from the trials even before the rewards, and that their enemies, against their will, were benefiting them.

'As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.'

For by those without we are supposed to be in despondency;

but we give no heed to them, and possess a pleasure ever at its height.

And he did not say merely, 'Rejoicing,' but added also the word 'continually.'

For 'always rejoicing,' he says.

What, then, could be equal to this life, in which, when so many terrors assail, the joy becomes the greater? 'As poor, yet making many rich.'

Some say that the riches spoken of here are the spiritual;

but I would say it is also the fleshly;

for in this too they were rich, having in a certain new manner all men's houses open to them.

And this he made plain by what follows, saying:

'As having nothing, and yet possessing all things.'

And how can this be? Nay, rather, how can the contrary be? For he who holds fast much has nothing;

but he who has nothing possesses all things.

And not here only, but in other cases also the contrary results were produced by contrary means.

But if you marvel how it is that one who has nothing has all things, let us bring forward this very man, who gave commands to the whole world, and was lord not merely of their possessions, but even of their very eyes.

'For if it had been possible,' he says, 'you would have plucked out your eyes and given them to me.'

And these things he says to teach us not to be troubled at the opinions of the multitude, though they call us deceivers, though they be ignorant of us, though they count us condemned men, though doomed to die, though sorrowful, though in poverty, though having nothing, though they think those in good cheer to be despondent;

for neither is the sun visible to the blind, nor is the pleasure of the sober-minded evident to those out of their wits.

For the faithful alone are upright judges of matters, and they do not rejoice and grieve over the same things as the rest.

For indeed, if one inexperienced in contests were to behold a boxer with wounds and wearing a crown, he would suppose him to be in pain because of the wounds, not knowing the pleasure that comes from the crown.

And these people too, since they know what we suffer, but are ignorant of that for which we suffer, naturally suspect only these things, seeing the wrestlings and the perils, but no longer the prizes and the crowns and the object of the contests.

What, then, were all the things which Paul possessed, when he said, 'As having nothing, and yet possessing all things'? The things of this life, and the things spiritual.

For he whom the cities received as an angel, for whom they would have plucked out their own eyes and given them, for whom they laid down their own necks—how should this man

not possess all that was theirs? And if you wish to behold the spiritual things also, you will see him in these too abounding in riches most of all.

For he who was so much the friend of the King of all as to share in secret things with the Master of the angels, how was he not more abundantly furnished than all, and possessed of all things? Not otherwise would demons have been thus made subject, not otherwise would sufferings and sicknesses have thus fled away.

Let us also, therefore, whenever we suffer anything for Christ, not only bear it nobly, but also rejoice;

and if we fast, let us leap for joy as though we were faring sumptuously;

and if we are insulted, let us dance as though we were being praised;

and if we spend, let us feel disposed as though we were gaining;

and if we give to the poor, let us reckon that we are receiving;

for he who does not give in this manner will not even give readily.

Whenever, then, you wish to scatter abroad, do not look at this alone, that you are spending, but also that you are gaining more, and that even before the spending.

And not only in the case of almsgiving, but in the case of every virtue, reckon not the bitterness of the toils, but the sweetness of the prizes;

and above all, the object of the wrestlings, our Lord Jesus;

and you will readily set foot upon the contests, and will pass the whole time of your life in pleasure.

For nothing is so wont to produce pleasure as a good conscience.

For this reason Paul, though beaten every day, rejoiced and exulted;

but those of the present day, though they endure nothing of these things even in a dream, grieve and lament, from no other cause than from not having a philosophic mind.

For on what account, tell me, is your lamentation? Because you are poor, and lack the necessities of life? On this very account, then, you ought rather to lament—not that you weep, not that you are poor, but that you are faint-hearted;

not that you have no money, but that you value money at so high a price.

Every day Paul died, and did not weep, but rather rejoiced;

he battled with continual hunger, and did not grieve, but rather gloried in it.

But you, because you do not have all the year's provisions laid up, grieve and beat yourself? Yes, one says;

for he cared only for his own concerns, but I care also for servants, and children, and wife.

But he, on the contrary, did not care for his own concerns alone, but for those of the whole world;

and you care for one household, but he for the poor in Jerusalem who were so many, for those in Macedonia, for those everywhere in poverty, for those who gave to them no less than for those who received.

For his care for the world was twofold: both that they might not lack the necessities, and that they might be rich in spiritual things.

And your children going hungry do not grieve you as much as the affairs of all the faithful grieved him.

Why do I speak of the affairs of the faithful? He was not even free from anxiety over the unbelievers, but was so consumed by it that he prayed to become accursed on their behalf.

But you, though famine should prevail ten thousand times over, would never choose to die for anyone whatsoever.

And you are anxious over a single wife, while he was anxious over all the Churches throughout the whole world.

'For my anxiety,' he says, 'is for all the Churches.'

How long, then, O man, will you make sport by comparing yourself with Paul, and not cease from this great faint-heartedness? For we ought to weep, not when we are in poverty, but when we sin;

since as for the rest, it is even a matter for laughter.

'But this is not the only thing that grieves me,' he says, 'but also that so-and-so is in high position, while I am dishonored and cast aside.'

And what of that? For the blessed Paul too seemed to the multitude to be dishonored and cast aside.

'But that man was Paul,' he says.

Then it is not the nature of the circumstances, but the weakness of your resolve, that produces your despondency.

Do not therefore bewail your poverty, but bewail yourself, who are so disposed;

or rather, do not bewail yourself, but set yourself right; and do not seek riches, but pursue that which makes men more radiant than ten thousand riches — pursue wisdom and virtue.

For when this is present, poverty does no harm;

but when this is absent, riches are of no benefit.

For what benefit, tell me, is there in those who are rich in wealth but have poverty-stricken souls? You do not count yourself so wretched as that rich man counted himself, because he did not possess what belonged to all.

And if he does not weep as you do, unfold his conscience, and you will see the lamentations and the wailings.

your lot, so that you may cease deeming blessed those who are rich in wealth? Do you see this heaven, how fair it is, how great, how it is set on high? Of this beauty that man does not enjoy any more than you do, nor could he thrust you aside and make the whole of it his own;

for just as it came into being for his sake, so also for yours.

And what of the sun, this bright and far-shining star that gladdens our eyes — is it not set forth in common for all, and do not all enjoy it equally, both rich and poor? And the crown of the stars, and the circle of the moon — are they not granted alike to all? Rather, if one must say something wonderful, we the poor enjoy them more than they do.

For those men, being for the most part sunk in drunkenness, spending their time in revelries and in deep sleep, do not even perceive these things, being shut up under their roofs and reared in the shade;

but the poor, most of all men, are those who take delight in these elements.

And if you examine the air that is poured out everywhere, you will see the poor man enjoying it purer and in greater measure.

For travelers and farmers take more delight in these things than those in the city; and again, among those in the city, the craftsmen more than those who are drunk the whole day long.

And what of the earth — is it not set open in common for all? 'No,' he says.

How do you say this? Tell me.

Because the rich man, having acquired more acres both in the city, raises up long enclosing walls, and in the fields cuts off many portions for himself.

What then? Because he cuts them off, does he alone enjoy them? By no means, even should he contend ten thousand times over;

for he is compelled to distribute the fruits among all, and he tills grain and wine and oil for you, and everywhere ministers to you.

And of the long enclosures and the dwellings, after the unspeakable expense and the toils and the hardships, he prepares the use for you, receiving from you but a little silver in return for so great a service.

And in the baths and everywhere one may see the same thing happening;

the rich being consumed by their wealth and their cares and their toils, while the poor reap all these things in security for a few obols.

And he enjoys no more of the earth than you do;

for surely he does not fill ten bellies, while you fill only one.

'But he partakes of more costly foods?' In the first place, this is no great advantage;

nevertheless, even here we shall find you the one who has the more.

For this costliness seems enviable to you because it holds greater pleasure;

but this pleasure is greater with the poor man — and not pleasure only, but also health;

and in this alone does the rich man have the advantage, in rendering his body weaker and in gathering more sources of sicknesses.

For the poor man's affairs are all managed according to nature, but the rich man's, through their excess, end in corruption and infirmity.

And if you will, let us behold this very thing by way of an example.

For if it were needful to kindle a furnace, and the one man were to throw in silken garments and fine linens, many and beyond number, and so kindle it, while the other threw in logs of oak and pine;

what more did the former have than the latter? Nothing.

And what of this? (for nothing prevents us from turning the same example another way) if the one were to throw in logs, and the other were to burn bodies beneath, beside which furnace would you gladly stand — that of the logs, or that of the bodies? It is quite plain that you would stand beside that of the logs;

for that one burns according to nature, and is a pleasant sight to those who behold it;

but this one, by the reek and the gore and the smoke and the stench of the bones, would drive all men away.

Did you shudder on hearing it, and loathe the furnace? Such are the bellies of the rich.

For in these one would find more putrefaction than in that furnace, and foul vapors and unclean discharges, because everywhere and in each part there is much indigestion by reason of surfeit.

For since the natural heat is not sufficient to work up the whole, but is buried over, those things lie on top smoldering and producing much loathsomeness.

To what, then, would one compare the bellies of those men? But do not be vexed at the discourse; rather, if I do not speak the truth, refute me.

To what, then, would one compare them? For what has been said does not suffice

to show forth their wretchedness.

To what, then, is this? Just as in the drains, where the many refuse-heaps of dung, grass, straw, stones, and mud cause continual blockages, and thereupon the stream of filth overflows from above;

so it happens also in the case of the belly of these men;

for when it is blocked below, from above there gushes up the greater part of these wicked discharges.

But it is not so with the poor; rather, just as those springs which pour forth pure streams and water gardens and paradises, so also are the bellies of these men clean of such superfluities.

But not so are those of the rich, or rather of the luxurious; rather they are filled with humors, phlegm, bile, corrupted blood, putrefied discharge, and other things of the like sort.

Wherefore no one, living continually in luxury, will hold out even for a short time, but will pass his life in unceasing sicknesses.

Wherefore I would gladly ask them for what purpose foods have been given;

that we may be corrupted, or that we may be nourished? that we may sicken, or that we may be healthy? that we may be weak, or that we may be strong? It is quite plain that it is for nourishment and health and strength.

For what purpose, then, do you misuse them to the contrary, fashioning disease and weakness for the body through these? But not so the poor man; rather, he purchases health and vigor and strength through his simple fare.

Do not, then, weep on account of poverty, the mother of health, but rather rejoice;

and, if you wish to be rich, despise riches.

For it is not the having of wealth, but the not needing to have it, that is most of all abundance.

If we set this right, both here we shall be more abundant than all the rich, and there we shall attain the good things to come;

which may it be granted to us all to attain, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father together with the Holy Spirit be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.