哥林多後書講道集 第 20 章

'Now may He who supplies seed to the sower supply also bread for food, and multiply your seed, and increase the fruits of your righteousness.'

Most of all might one marvel at Paul's discernment from this, that having exhorted them by spiritual and by fleshly considerations, in the recompense also he does this same thing, setting forth the rewards of each.

For the words, 'He hath scattered abroad, he hath given to the poor, his righteousness remaineth for ever,' belong to a spiritual recompense;

but the words, 'May He multiply your seed,' belong to a fleshly recompense.

Yet nevertheless he does not stop here, but again passes over to the spiritual things, continually setting them side by side;

for the phrase, 'May He increase the fruits of your righteousness,' is spiritual.

These things he does, and he varies his discourse, tearing up by the roots that unmanly and slothful reasoning of theirs, and dispelling the fear of poverty from many directions, and from this present example as well.

For if God gives even to those who sow the earth, if He supplies plenty to those who nourish the body, much more will He give to those who till heaven, to those who care for the soul;

for these things too He wills rather to enjoy His providence.

But he does not put it forth in the form of a syllogism, nor thus, as I said, but in the manner of a prayer, at once making the reasoning clear and leading them the more into hope, not only from the things that happen, but also from this prayer;

'For may He supply,' he says, 'and multiply your seed, and increase the fruits of your righteousness.'

Here again he hints at the abundance without arousing suspicion;

for the words, 'multiply and increase,' are those of one who indicates this.

And at the same time he leaves nothing more than the necessaries to be sought after, saying, 'Bread for food.'

For this too is most to be admired in him, which he also established before, that in necessary things he leaves nothing beyond the need to be sought after, but in spiritual things he counsels men to make great abundance.

He said, 'That having sufficiency in all things, ye may abound unto every good work;'

and here, 'He who supplies bread for food, may He multiply your seed;'

that is, the spiritual seed.

For he does not simply ask for almsgiving, but for that which is done with abundance.

Wherefore also he continually calls it seed.

For just as the grain, when cast into the ground, shows the cornfields waving with abundant crops;

so too almsgiving works many sheaves of righteousness, and displays unspeakable fruits.

And having prayed for them such abundance, he shows again where they ought to spend it, saying:

'That being enriched in everything unto all liberality, which worketh through us thanksgiving to God.'

Not that you should spend it on things not fitting, but on those which bring much thanksgiving to God.

For God has made us lords of great things;

and leaving the lesser things to Himself, He has yielded to us the greater.

For of the sensible food He Himself is Lord, but the spiritual food He has entrusted to us;

for we too are lords, to show our cornfields waving with abundant crops.

For it needs neither rains nor the tempering of the seasons, but the will alone, and it runs up to heaven itself.

And by 'liberality' here he means abundance, which works through us thanksgiving to God.

For that which is done is not almsgiving only, but also an occasion of much thanksgiving;

nay rather, not of thanksgiving only, but of many other things besides.

And he sets these forth as he proceeds, that having shown the things accomplished to be many, he may thereby make them more eager.

What then are the many things? Hear him saying:

'For the ministration of this service not only supplies the wants of the saints, but is also abundant through many thanksgivings unto God;'

'through the proof of this ministration they glorify God for the obedience of your confession unto the Gospel, and for the liberality of your fellowship toward them and toward all men; and in their supplication on your behalf, they long after you by reason of the exceeding grace of God upon you.'

First, you not only supply the wants of the saints, but you go beyond them—that is, you furnish them with even more than their need requires;

and next, through them you send up thanksgiving to God;

for they glorify Him for the obedience of your confession.

For lest he should represent them as giving thanks merely on this account—I mean, for the receiving—see how he exalts them;

which is the very thing he himself says to the Philippians, that 'I seek not the gifts,' and he here bears the same witness to these men.

For they rejoice indeed that you fill up their wants and comfort their poverty;

but far more that you are thus subject to the Gospel;

of which this is the sign, namely your contributing thus liberally.

For this is what the Gospel enjoins.

'And for the liberality of your fellowship toward them and toward all men.'

'And on this account,' he says, 'they glorify God, that you are thus munificent, not toward those alone, but toward all men.'

And this again becomes a further commendation of them—that they give thanks even for what is bestowed upon others.

'For they adorn not their own affairs only,' he says, 'but those of others also, and that though themselves in the extremity of want;'

which is a sign of their great virtue.

For nothing is so given to envy as the class of the poor.

But those men are pure from this passion, being so far from grieving over what you impart to others, that they even rejoice no less than over what they themselves receive.

'And in their supplication on your behalf.'

'For as to these things,' he says, 'they give thanks to God;'

but on account of your love and their meeting together with you, they beseech Him, that they may be counted worthy to see you.

For they long for this, not for the sake of the money, but that they may become beholders of the grace given to you.

Do you see Paul's discernment—how, having exalted them, he ascribed the whole to God, calling the matter grace? For since he had spoken great things concerning them, calling them ministers, and lifting them up on high;

seeing that they indeed ministered, while he was being served;

and having named them approved, he shows that God is the cause of all these things;

and he himself again, together with those men, offers up thanksgiving, saying:

'But thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.'

And by 'gift' he here means both these things,

the so great good things wrought through almsgiving, both for those who receive and for those who give;

or else the ineffable good things bestowed with great munificence upon the whole world through His coming;

which indeed one may most of all suppose to be his meaning.

For in order both to restrain them and to render them more liberal, he reminds them of those good things which they obtained from God.

For indeed this is the greatest incentive to every virtue;

wherefore also he here brought his discourse to a close.

But if the gift is unspeakable, what could equal the madness of those who busy themselves with prying into His essence? And not only His gift is unspeakable, but also His peace passes all understanding, through which He reconciled the things above with the things below.

Let us therefore, enjoying so great grace, be earnest to display a virtue of life worthy of it, and to make much account of almsgiving;

and this we shall do, if we flee immoderation, if we flee drunkenness, if we flee gluttony.

For indeed God has given both meats and drinks, not for excess, but for nourishment.

For it is not the wine that makes the drunkenness;

since, if this were so, all must needs be drunken.

'But it were not fitting,' says one, 'that even much wine should do harm.'

These are the words of drunkards.

For if the much does harm, and even so you do not abstain from your greediness;

if this thing is so shameful and hurtful, and even so you cease not from your wicked desire;

if it were permitted both to drink much and to be in no way harmed, where would you have stopped in your greediness? Would you not have desired that even the rivers should become wine? Would you not have wasted and destroyed all things? If there is a measure of nourishment, and by overpassing this too we are harmed, and yet even so you do not endure the bridle, but bursting it you seize what belongs to all, that you may minister to the wicked tyranny of gluttony;

what would you not have done, if this measure of nature had been taken away? Would you not have spent all your time on this? Was it right, then, to make an unnatural desire so strong, and yet not to hinder the harm that comes from immoderation? And how many other harms would not have sprung up from this? But O the folly of these men!

who, wallowing as it were in the mire of drunkenness and the rest of their dissoluteness, whenever they come a little to their senses, sit doing nothing else but uttering these words: 'Why is this spent upon that?'—when they ought rather to judge their own transgressions. For instead of saying, 'Why has He set bounds? why do not all things move without order?' say rather, 'Why do we not cease from drunkenness? why do we not take our fill? why are we more senseless than the brute beasts?' For these are the things you ought to seek out with one another, and to hearken to the apostolic voice, and to know how many good things are witnessed by these to arise from almsgiving, and to seize upon this treasure.

For indeed this makes men approved, even as he himself said—this despising of riches; and it makes God to be glorified, and warms love, and works magnanimity, and appoints priests, and a priesthood that bears a great reward.

For the merciful man has not put on a robe reaching to the feet, nor does he carry about bells, nor is he girt with a crown; but he has thrown around him the stole of loving-kindness, holier than the sacred vestment, and is anointed with oil not compounded of any sensible matter, but wrought by the Spirit, and has a crown from the tender mercies of God;

for 'He crowns you,' it says, 'with mercy and compassions;'

and instead of bearing a plate having the name of God, he himself becomes like unto God.

For how? 'Ye shall be,' it says, 'like unto your Father which is in heaven.'

Would you also see his altar? Bezaleel did not build it, nor any other, but God Himself—not of stones, but of material more resplendent than heaven, of rational souls.

'But the priest enters into the Holy of Holies.'

It is permitted to you to enter into things yet more awful, when you offer this sacrifice, where no one is present, but your Father, who sees you in secret, where no other beholds.

'And how,' says one, 'is it possible not to be seen, when the altar stands in public?' For this is the wonderful thing—that in the old time doors on both sides and veils made the solitude;

but now it is permitted, even while offering in public, to do this as in the Holy of Holies, and in a manner far more awful.

For when you do it not for display

before men, even though the whole world should see, no one sees, because you have done it thus.

For he said not simply, 'Do it not before men,' but he added, 'to be seen of them.'

This altar is composed of the very members of Christ, and the body of the Master becomes to you an altar;

in the flesh of the Master you sacrifice the victim.

This altar is more awful even than this present one, not than the old one only;

for this present one is wonderful because of the sacrifice that is laid upon it;

but that of the merciful man is so not only on this account, but also because it is composed of the very sacrifice which makes this to be so.

Again this present one is wonderful, because, though a stone by nature, it becomes holy, since it receives the body of Christ;

but that other, because it is itself the body of Christ.

So that this is more awful than that one by which you, the layman, stand.

Does Aaron then appear at all to you in comparison with these things? nor the crown, nor the bells, nor the Holy of Holies? For why need one any longer make the comparison with that altar, seeing that even when compared with this present one it appeared so glorious? But you honor this altar indeed, because it receives the body of Christ;

but the man who is himself the body of Christ you insult, and overlook him when he perishes.

This altar you may everywhere see lying, both in lanes and in market-places, and you may sacrifice upon it every hour;

for here too a sacrifice is accomplished.

And just as the priest stands and calls upon the Spirit, so also do you call upon the Spirit;

yet not by voice, but by deeds.

For nothing so kindles and sets ablaze the fire of the Spirit as this oil poured out in abundance.

And if you wish also to see what becomes of the things laid down, come, and I will show you these things too.

What then is the smoke? What is the fragrance of this altar? Glory and thanksgiving.

And how far does it advance? As far as heaven? By no means;

but it surpasses heaven itself, and the heaven of heavens, and stands beside the very royal throne.

For 'your prayers,' it says, 'and your alms have gone up before God.'

And the fragrance perceptible to the senses does not even cut through much of the air;

but this one opens the very vaults of the heavens.

And you indeed keep silence, but the deed cries aloud;

and it becomes a sacrifice of praise—not of a heifer being slaughtered, nor of a hide being burned, but of a spiritual soul offering the things that come from itself.

For such a sacrifice is more approved than any deed of loving-kindness.

Therefore, when you see a poor believer, consider that you behold an altar;

when you see such a poor man, not only refrain from insulting him, but even show him reverence;

and if you see another insulting him, restrain him, defend the poor man.

For thus you yourself will be able both to have God gracious to you, and to obtain the promised good things;

which may it be granted us all to obtain, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, and so forth.