提摩太後書講道集 第 7 章

But know this, that in the last days grievous times shall come upon us;

for men shall be lovers of self, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, implacable, without love, slanderers, incontinent, fierce, haters of good, traitors, headstrong, puffed up, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying the power thereof.

For of this sort are they who creep into houses, and lead captive

silly women laden with sins, led away by various lusts and pleasures, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.

In the former epistle he said that The Spirit speaks expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith;

and again in another place in that same epistle he prophesies that some such thing shall come to pass later.

And here again he does the same, saying:

But know this, that in the latter times grievous times shall come.

And he shows this not only from things to come, but also from things that had already occurred;

Even as, he says, Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses.

But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver.

Why then does he do this? That Timothy may not be troubled, nor any of us, whenever there are wicked men.

If indeed they existed in the days of Moses, he says, and shall be afterward, it is nothing marvelous that they should be also in our own time.

In the latter times grievous times shall come.

It is not the days that he speaks against, nor the times, but the men who were then living.

For it is also our custom so to call times evil, or not evil, from the affairs that come to pass in them at the hands of men.

And straightway he sets down the cause of all evils, both the root and the fountain, and that from which all the rest are born, namely pride.

He who is caught by this passion does not even regard his own concerns.

For when a man does not regard his neighbor's concerns, when he neglects the things that are his, how shall he regard his own? For just as he who looks to his neighbor's concerns will order his own well within those of his neighbor;

so he who despises his neighbor's concerns will also overlook his own.

For if we are members one of another, the salvation of our neighbor belongs not to him alone, but also to the rest of the body;

and the hurt of our neighbor does not halt with him alone, but reaches out henceforth over the whole body with its pains.

If we are a building, whatever part suffers harm brings ruin upon the rest as well;

but if it be firm and solid, it is able to bear up the rest also.

So indeed it is in the Church too: have you overlooked your brother? You have wronged yourself.

How so? Your own member has sustained no small injury.

For if the man who does not share his money departs into hell, then he who sees his brother imperilled in matters of greater necessity and yet stretches out no hand, will suffer this far more than that other, inasmuch as the loss he has caused is the greater.

For, he says, men shall be lovers of self.

This lover of self is precisely the one who least of all loves himself;

whereas the lover of his brother, this man rather is the one who loves himself.

For love, which is broad and poured out on every side, is contracted and gathered into a narrow compass by the destructive and pinching quality of self-love.

From this is born vainglory; from vainglory, arrogance; from arrogance, blasphemy; from blasphemy, senseless madness and disobedience.

For he who exalts himself against men will easily do so against God as well.

Thus too are sins begotten.

He who is reverent toward men is much more so toward God;

he who is gentle toward his fellow-servants is much more so toward the Master;

but he who despises his fellow-servants, advancing along this road, will come to despise even God Himself.

Let us not, then, despise one another;

for this is an evil teaching, which teaches us to despise God.

For in this very thing we despise God, when we despise one another, seeing He has commanded us to show great earnestness toward one another.

Nevertheless, in another way too, if you wish, I will make this plain by an example.

Cain despised his brother, and straightway he despised God also.

How did he despise Him? See how insolently he answers God:

'...my brother?' Again, Esau despised his brother, and he despised God.

For this cause God said: Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.

Lest there be any fornicator or profane person, as Esau.

Joseph's brothers despised him, and they despised God also.

The Israelites despised Moses;

and for this cause they despised God also.

So too the sons of Eli despised the people, and they despised God also.

But would you also see the contrary? Abraham spared his brother, and he obeyed God as well;

and this is plain from his obedience in the matter of his son Isaac, and from all his other virtue.

Again, Abel, being gentle toward his brother, was also reverent toward God.

Let us not, then, despise one another, lest we learn to despise God also;

let us honor one another, that we may learn to honor God also.

He who is insolent against men becomes insolent against God as well.

But when covetousness, self-love, and senseless madness meet together at once, what more is lacking for utter perdition? The whole is corrupted, and a great mire of sins pours in.

For how shall the covetous man be thankful? To whom will he owe gratitude? To no one;

he counts all men his enemies, wishing to seize what belongs to all.

For even though you should empty your whole substance for him, he knows you no gratitude;

he is vexed that you did not have more, and did not make him lord of yet more.

Even though you make him master of the whole world, he knows you no gratitude;

for he counts himself to have received nothing.

Insatiable is his desire.

Such are the desires of diseases.

The man in a fever can never be sated, but ever drunk with craving, he is never filled, but always thirsts.

So too the man mad after money can never satisfy his desire;

and never being filled, however much you empty out for him, he will know you no gratitude.

For he will feel gratitude to that one alone who has given him all he wishes;

but this no one will be able to do;

for the things he wishes have no measure;

therefore he will know gratitude to no one.

Nothing is so ungrateful as a covetous man;

nothing so insensible as a lover of money;

he is the enemy of the whole world;

he is vexed that there are men at all;

for he wishes all places to be full of desolation, that he alone might possess what belongs to all.

And he imagines many such things;

If, he says, an earthquake should come upon the city, and then, when all had been buried, I alone were left, so as to take, if possible, the goods of all;

if a plague should come and destroy all men, except my gold;

if a drowning should come, or a flooding of the sea;

and countless such things he devises;

nothing good, but earthquakes and thunderbolts and wars and plagues, and all such things, he prays may come to pass.

Tell me, then, you wretched and miserable creature, more slavish than any bought slave: if all things were gold, would you not perish through the gold itself, wasted away by famine? If an earthquake came, and the world were swallowed up, would you too not perish through this destructive desire?

For if there were no man upon the earth, the means of your life could not have been provided for you.

For let us suppose that all the men in the world had been utterly swept away, and then that their gold and their silver had somehow of itself passed over into your hands (for they imagine things foolish and impossible), and that all their wealth—the gold, the silver, the silken garments, the gold-embroidered things—had all come of themselves into your hands;

what is the gain? In that very case death would most surely have overtaken you: there being no bakers, no farmers, with wild beasts ranging abroad and demons terrifying your soul.

And even now demons hold it fast, and many of them;

but then they would even have driven you to distraction, and destroyed you forthwith.

But I did not wish it so, he says, but rather that there should be both farmers and bakers.

But those too would needs consume something.

So insatiable is this desire.

For what could be more ridiculous than this? Do you see the sheer helplessness of the situation? He wishes to have many servants at his command, and yet it grieves him that these very servants partake of food, since thereby they diminish his substance.

What then, tell me? Would you have men be made of stone? All this is a mockery: waves, and tempest, and storm, and towering billows, and much tumult in the soul.

Tell me now, shall we not pity such a man, nor shed tears for him? In the body such a condition is a most grievous affliction, called by physicians 'bulimia,' when a man, though gorged with much food, is never freed from hunger.

And in the soul shall we not weep over this very same disease? For covetousness is the bulimia of the soul, which is filled with much, yet never stands satisfied, but is ever strained tight by desire.

For if one had to drink hellebore, or to endure ten thousand times something more grievous than this in order to be rid of this disease, ought he not readily to submit to it? There is no abundance of riches able to fill the insatiable belly.

Shall we not then be ashamed, if concerning riches some are thus frenzied, while toward God we do not show even the smallest fraction of such love, but God becomes to us of less account than silver? For men endure for silver's sake sleeplessness, and journeys abroad, and dangers upon dangers, and hatred, and plots, and all things;

but we for God's sake will not endure to utter even a bare word, nor to incur any enmity; but if we must defend one of the oppressed, we shrink back from the hostility of the powerful and from the dangers, and so betray the one who has been wronged.

And having received power from God to help, we squander it because we do not wish to be hated nor to incur enmity;

and immediately the many put forward this excuse, saying, 'Love not without cause, hate not without cause.'

But is this hatred without cause? And what is better than such hatred? For the hatred which is for God's sake is far better than the friendship which is for God's sake.

For when we are loved for God's sake, we are debtors to render honor;

but when we are hated, He Himself becomes our debtor for the reward.

However much the lovers of money may love gold, they know no measure of their love;

but we, even if we accomplish some little thing, think that we have done the whole.

As they love gold, so we do not love God—no, not even the smallest fraction thereof.

Great is the accusation against them, that they have so great a madness for gold;

but great is the condemnation against us, that we are not thus mad for God, but the honor which they render to the earth (for the gold of the mine is earth), so much honor we do not render to the Master of all.

Let us behold their madness, and be ashamed.

For what, if we too are not inflamed with love of gold, yet neither do we earnestly long for God? For here men despise wife and children and substance and their very salvation—and this without even knowing that they are increasing their own substance;

for oftentimes, in the midst of their very hopes, they have given up their soul as well, and departed, having labored in vain.

But we, though knowing that we shall attain the object of our longing if we love Him as we ought to love, do not even so love Him, but have let everything grow cold—our love toward our neighbor, and our love toward God.

From this comes our coldness toward God, since our love toward our neighbor has also grown cold.

For it is not possible—no, it is not possible—that a man who knows not how to love should possess anything noble or a manly spirit.

For the foundation of all good things is nothing else but love;

'On this,' He says, 'hang the Law and the Prophets.'

For just as fire, entering into material, is wont to purge all things away;

so also the warmth of love, wheresoever it may fall, destroys and cuts through all that mars the divine seed, and makes the ground clean for

the reception of the seeds.

Where love is, all evils are done away;

there is no covetousness—the root of all evils; there is no love of money, there is no arrogance;

for how could a man be arrogant against his friend? Indeed, nothing so makes a man lowly as love.

For we perform even the offices of servants for our friends, and are not ashamed, but even feel gratitude to them for this service;

we spare not our money, nor often even our very bodies;

for ere now some man has even braved danger beyond measure for the one he loved.

There is no envy, nor slander, where there is genuine friendship;

for not only do we not slander our friends, but we also stop the mouths of those who slander them.

All is calm, all is gentle; not even a trace of strife and contention appears;

'For love,' he says, 'is the fulfilling of the Law.'

How? For the very sins themselves—greed, robbery, envy, slander, presumption, perjury, falsehood—all these are dissolved, when love is present;

for they who forswear themselves do so because they wish to plunder;

but no one would plunder the man he loves; rather, he would even give his own goods to the one he loves;

for we feel more gratitude in giving than if we had received from him.

You know these things, all you who have had friends;

friends, I say, not merely in name, nor by a bare title, but if anyone has loved as he ought to love, if anyone has been knit to another.

But if there are some who do not know this, let them learn from those who do.

Now I will relate to you from the Scriptures a wondrous friendship.

Jonathan, the son of Saul, loved David; and, it says, his soul was knit to him;

so much so that, mourning for him, he even said, 'Your love came upon me as the love of women.'

'You were wounded to the death for me.'

What then? Did he perhaps envy him? By no means, although indeed he had cause for envy.

How? For from the course of events he saw the kingdom coming to David, and yet he suffered nothing of the sort;

'This is the man who will rob me of my father's kingdom'—yet he was helping to establish the sovereignty for him, and did not spare his own father for his friend's sake.

But let no one think him a slayer of his father;

for he did not wrong his father, but rather restrained his plots and his injustices.

He spared him rather than wronged him;

he did not suffer him to break forth into an unjust murder.

He was willing even to die many times for his sake.

He did not accuse him, but even stopped his father's mouth;

he did not envy him, but even helped to establish him;

he shared with him not money only, but even his own safety.

Why do I speak of money? He even laid down his own soul for his sake.

He did not stand in awe of his own father for his friend's sake, since the one was attempting unjust deeds, while the other was conscious of no such thing in himself.

There, then, the friendship was accompanied by righteousness;

But let us now behold David also.

There came for him no occasion to repay the kindnesses;

for the other was snatched away before David's reign, and before the one who had been benefited came to the kingdom, the benefactor perished.

What then? In those matters where it was possible and permitted, let us see how the righteous man displayed his friendship.

'Beautiful to me,' he says, 'was Jonathan;'

'you were wounded to the death for me.'

Was this all? For even this was no small thing;

Nay more, he often snatched from perils that man's son also, and his grandson, remembering the kindness of their father.

And he continued to guard and preserve the descendants as though they were the children of a son.

Such friendship I would have all men possess, both toward the living and toward those who have departed.

Let the women hear (for it was chiefly on this account that I said 'toward those who have departed'), those women who enter into second marriages and defile the bed of the deceased, women who once loved their former husband.

I say this not to forbid a second marriage, nor to call it something licentious.

For Paul does not permit me to do so, since he puts a bridle upon my mouth and says to the women: 'But if she should also marry, she has not sinned.'

'Yet she is more blessed if she remain thus.'

This state is far better than the other.

For if to marry not at all is better than to marry, then much more is this state better than that.

'But some,' one says, 'could not bear widowhood, and fell into calamities.'

That is because they did not understand what widowhood is.

Widowhood is not merely the not entering into a second marriage, just as virginity is not merely the being untried in marriage.

But what then? Just as there, in virginity, it consists in a seemly and devoted attendance upon the Lord, so here, in widowhood, it consists in living alone, in persevering in prayers, in being freed from luxury and self-indulgence.

'For she that liveth in self-indulgence,' he says, 'is dead while she liveth.'

If, while remaining a widow, you are going to keep the same pomp, the same show, and the same array which you had while your husband was living, it is better to marry.

For the marriage union is not an evil, but excessive worldly preoccupation is.

But you—the thing that is not an evil, you do not do; while the thing that is not indifferent, but is subject to censure, this you endure.

For this reason they turned aside after Satan, because they knew not how to be widows in a good manner.

Do you wish to learn what a widow is, and what is the dignity of the widow? Hear Paul when he says:

'If she has brought up children, if she has lodged strangers, if she has washed the feet of the saints, if she has relieved the afflicted, if she has diligently followed after every good work.'

For when, upon your husband's death, you are surrounded with a great weight of wealth, it is only natural that you cannot bear your widowhood.

Transfer, therefore, this wealth into heaven, and the burden of your widowhood will become bearable to you.

'What then,' one says, 'if I have children as heirs to their father's estate?' Train them also to despise riches.

Transfer what is your own, apportioning to them as much as suffices.

Train them also to be superior to riches.

'What then,' one says, 'if a multitude of slaves overflows about me? if there is a swarm of affairs, gold, silver? How shall I be able to keep watch over all this, needing a man's protection?' These are mere excuses and pretexts.

And this is evident from many considerations.

For if you do not covet riches, nor wish to make your possessions greater, the burden is light for you.

For to acquire more is far more burdensome than to guard what one has.

If, then, you cut off the one thing—the acquiring of more, he says—and out of what you have supply those in need, God will shield you with His own hand.

And if you say these things while truly presiding over the inheritance of orphans, and do not possess it under this pretext out of love of money, then He who searches the hearts knows how to establish their wealth in safety—He Himself who commanded you to bring up children.

For it is not possible—no, it is not possible—that a house rooted in almsgiving should suffer anything dire.

But even if it should suffer for a season, it will end in good.

This will be for the whole house more than shield and spear.

Hear what the devil says concerning Job:

'Have You not hedged about all that is within him and without him?' Why so? Hear Job himself saying:

'I was an eye to the blind,' he says, 'a foot to the lame, a father to the fatherless.'

Just as he who does not cut himself off from the misfortunes of others will never suffer anything evil even in his own affairs, since in sharing another's pain he is learning;

so he who is unwilling to bear the grief that comes from sympathy will experience all these things in his own life.

And just as, in the body, the hand—when the foot is festering—if it does not sympathize and cleanse the wound and apply a remedy and wash away the discharge, will itself suffer this among its own ills; so too the woman who is unwilling to minister to another, though she herself be outside the affliction, will herself become subject to the affliction.

For from that quarter the evil, creeping on, will come upon her too, and her concern will no longer be about ministering, but about healing and deliverance;

so indeed here also, he who is unwilling to suffer together with others will himself feel pain.

'You have hedged about,' he says, 'what is within him and without him, and I dare not come upon him.'

But those dire trials became the cause of many good things:

his substance was doubled, his reward greater, his righteousness more abundant, his crowns splendid, his prizes glorious, and both his spiritual and his worldly goods were increased.

Did he lose his children? Nay, he received them—not the same ones, but others in place of them, and those former ones too

He preserved in the resurrection.

For if He had given back the same ones, the sum of their number would have been diminished for him;

but now, having given others in place of them, He will also present those former ones in the resurrection.

All these things came to him from his being ready and prompt in acts of mercy;

which let us also do, that we may attain the same good things, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.