以弗所書講道集 第 17 章

"And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you."

"Be therefore imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love, even as Christ also loved us and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savor."

Things past have more force than things to come, and seem to be more marvelous and more credible.

Therefore Paul also draws his exhortation from things already accomplished;

for those things, on account of Christ, have the greater force.

For to say, "Forgive, and it shall be forgiven you; but if you forgive not, neither shall it be forgiven you," when spoken to men of philosophic mind who believe in things to come, has great power;

but Paul shames them not only from these things, but also from things already accomplished.

For by the one it is possible to escape punishment, but by the other to partake of some good thing.

This alone suffices as an exhortation to virtue: to imitate God;

this is greater than that, that "He makes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and

sends rain on the just and the unjust."

For he did not say simply that we imitate God, but that in the very things wherein we ourselves receive good, He wills that we should have a father's bowels of compassion toward one another;

for by "bowels" are meant this loving-kindness and these tender mercies.

For since it is not possible for those who are men neither to grieve others nor to be grieved, He found a second remedy, namely, to forgive one another;

"Forgiving," he says, "one another."

For if you forgive, that man in turn will forgive you; but to God you have given nothing as a favor.

And you forgive your fellow servant, but God forgives His servant, and His enemy, and the one who hates Him.

"Even as God," he says, "in Christ forgave us."

This too contains a great mystery;

"Not simply without peril did He forgive," he says, "but with the peril of the Son."

For that He might forgive you, He sacrificed the Son;

yet you, though you often see that the forgiveness is without peril and without cost, do it not.

"Be therefore imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love, even as Christ also loved us and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savor."

That you may not think the thing is of constraint, hear how he said, not simply, but that "He gave Himself up";

The Master loved you while you were an enemy; do you love your friend.

Or rather, not even so will you be able; nevertheless, do as you are able.

What could be more blessed than this saying? Though you should name a kingdom, though you should name anything whatever, there is nothing equal to it.

You imitate God, you are made like to God, when you forgive that man.

One ought rather to forgive sins than money.

For if you forgive money, you have not imitated God;

but if you forgive sins, you imitate God.

Yet how can you say, 'I am poor, and I cannot forgive,' when you do not forgive even what you are able to forgive, and here you count it a loss rather than rather wealth, rather abundance, rather prosperity? 'Be therefore imitators of God.'

Behold yet another exhortation, more noble still.

You have yet another compelling reason to imitate Him: not only because you have been treated kindly, but also because you have become His children.

For since not all sons imitate their fathers, but only the beloved ones do, therefore he says this.

This being so, then—there is no wrath, no anger, no clamour, no blasphemy, but all these are done away with.

Wherefore he sets down afterward the sum of the matter.

How did you become a child? Because it was forgiven you.

From that very ground on which you were counted worthy of so great an honour, from that same ground forgive also your neighbour.

Tell me now: if someone, when you were a prisoner and answerable for countless evils, had brought you to the royal palace—

if someone, when you were burning with fever and at the point of death, had helped you with some medicine, would you not have preferred him above all men, and even the very name of the medicine? For if we regard so highly the seasons and places through which we are benefited, as our own souls, much more the very things themselves.

For through it you were saved, through it you became a son;

and if you should be able to save another, will you not use the same medicine, and exhort all with the words, 'Forgive, that it may be forgiven you'? This is the mark of grateful souls—to encourage others thus—and of souls free and noble.

'Even as Christ also loved us,' he says.

You spare your friends, but He spared His enemies.

Therefore what is done by the Master is far greater.

For that word 'even as'—how is it fulfilled? Surely it is plain: if we do good to our enemies.

'And gave Himself up an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour.'

Do you see that to suffer for one's enemies is a sweet-smelling savour and an acceptable sacrifice? And even if you die, then you become a sacrifice.

This is to imitate God.

'But fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not even be named among you, as becometh saints.'

He spoke concerning the bitter passion of wrath;

for that desire is a lesser evil, hear also in the law of Moses, which says first, 'Thou shalt not kill,' which belongs to wrath, and then, 'Thou shalt not commit adultery,' which belongs to desire.

For just as bitterness and clamour and all malice and blasphemy, and all such things, belong to the wrathful part;

so also to the part of desire belong fornication, uncleanness, covetousness;

for it is by the same faculty that we lust after money and after bodies.

But just as there he took away clamour, which is the vehicle of anger, so now he takes away filthy speech and jesting, which is the vehicle of fornication.

'For filthiness,' he says, 'and foolish talking, or jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks.'

Do not utter witty things nor filthy things, nor do them, and you will quench the flame.

'Let it not even be named,' he says, 'among you;'

that is, let it nowhere so much as appear.

This he said also when writing to the Corinthians;

'It is actually reported that there is fornication among you.'

That is, 'Become all of you pure.'

For words are the roads that lead to deeds.

Then, lest he should seem to be someone burdensome and harsh in cutting off jesting, he added also the reason, saying, 'Things which are not fitting'—things that are nothing to us, he says—'but rather giving of thanks.'

What profit is there in saying something witty? You have only stirred up laughter.

Tell me: will the shoemaker ever fashion anything that does not belong to his own craft? or will he acquire any such tool? By no means;

for things that are not of use are nothing to us.

For it is from idleness that we fall into unseemly things.

The present time is not one for merriment, but for mourning, for afflictions and for lamentations;

and are you jesting? What athlete, having entered the arena and neglecting the contest against his adversary, utters witty things? The devil stands over you, he goes about roaring, seeking to seize you; he sets everything in motion and turns everything against your head, and contrives to cast you out of your nest; he gnashes his teeth, he roars, he breathes fire against your salvation;

and do you sit uttering witticisms, and talking foolishly, and speaking things that are not fitting? Then how will you be able to prevail well over him? We are but playing, beloved.

Would you learn the manner of life of the saints? Hear Paul saying:

'For the space of three years I ceased not to admonish everyone of you night and day with tears.'

But if for the Milesians and Ephesians he used such earnestness, not speaking witty things, but bringing his admonition with tears, what would one say concerning the rest? Hear also what he says to the Corinthians:

'Out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you with many tears;'

'Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?' Hear him also saying elsewhere, and desiring as it were every day to depart out of the world:

'For we also who are in this tabernacle do groan.'

But are you laughing and playing? It is a time of war, and are you engaged in the pursuits of those who dance? Do you not see the faces of those at war, how they are stern, how drawn together—for their brow among them is fearful and full of dread?

You behold a stern eye, a heart aroused and leaping and bounding, a mind gathered together, trembling and full of anxiety, much order, much good rhythm, much silence among the camps;

I do not say merely that they refrain from uttering a filthy word, but that they do not so much as speak at all carelessly.

For if they, having visible enemies to face, and being in no way harmed by words, observe such great silence, will you, who have your warfare even in words—and words that are the greater part of the war—will you leave this part of yourself unguarded? Or do you not know that it is chiefly from this quarter that we are plotted against? You play and revel, and speak witty things, and stir up laughter, and count the matter as nothing? How many perjuries have come from witticisms, how many injuries, how many filthy words!

'But my witticisms are not of that kind,' he says.

But hear that he cast out all jesting.

It is now a time of war and of battle, of watchfulness and of guarding, of arming and of drawing up in battle array;

the season of laughter can have no place here;

for it belongs to the world.

Hear Christ saying:

'The world will rejoice, but you will be sorrowful.'

Christ was crucified for your evils, and are you laughing? He was buffeted, and suffered so many things for your calamity and for the storm that has overtaken you;

and are you living in luxury? And how do you not rather provoke Him? But since to some the matter seems to be a thing indifferent, which is also hard to guard against, come, let us discourse a little concerning it, showing how great an evil it is.

For this too is the work of the devil—

to make people despise things that seem indifferent.

First then, even if it were a matter indifferent, not even so ought one to despise it, knowing that from it great evils are born and grow, and that it often ends in fornication;

and that it is not even a matter indifferent is plain from what follows.

Let us see, then, from what it is born;

or rather, let us see what manner of person the saint ought to be—gentle, meek, mourning, lamenting, afflicted.

He, therefore, who speaks jesting things is not a saint;

and even if he be a heathen, such a one is ridiculous;

these things are permitted to those only who are on the stage.

Where there is shamefulness, there also is buffoonery.

Where there is untimely laughter, there also is buffoonery.

Listen to the Prophet as he says:

'Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before Him with trembling.'

Buffoonery makes the soul soft, slack, and dissolute;

it has often given birth to insults, and it stirs up strife.

But what of it? Have you not become altogether a man? Then do away with the things of the infant.

You would not think it fitting for your own household servant to say anything unbecoming in the marketplace;

yet you, who profess to be the servant of God, do you utter witticisms in the marketplace? It is a hard enough matter for the vigilant soul not to be robbed;

as for the dissipated soul, who will not seize upon it? It will impale itself upon its own snares, and will have no need of the devil's plotting and malice.

And that you may learn this, consider the very name itself:

he is called 'facetious' (eutrapelos) who is versatile, of every sort, unstable, easygoing, one who becomes all things;

but this is far removed from those who serve the Rock.

Such a man is quickly turned about and shifts his ground;

for he must imitate posture and speech and laughter and gait and everything.

And such a one must also devise jeers.

But this is far from a Christian—to play the comedian.

And the man given to buffoonery must of necessity incur a surplus of enmities from those who are needlessly mocked, whether they are present or hear of it when absent.

If the thing were good, why is it left to the mimes? Are you becoming a mime, and are you not ashamed? Why do you not permit your freeborn wives to do this? Do you not reckon the thing to be of an unseemly and unchaste character? Great evils dwell in a soul given to buffoonery—great dissoluteness and desolation;

the harmony gapes open, the building has fallen into decay, fear is banished, reverence has departed.

You have a tongue, not that you may mock another, but that you may give thanks to God.

Do you not see those who are called jesters, the buffoon-dancers? These are the facetious ones.

Banish, I beseech you, from your souls this graceless grace;

the thing belongs to parasites, to mimes, to dancers, to harlot women;

it is far from the freeborn soul, far from the noble, and far even from slaves.

If anyone is dishonorable, if anyone is shameful, he is also facetious.

But to many the thing even seems to be a virtue;

and indeed this too is worthy of mourning.

Just as desire, little by little, has drifted into fornication;

so too facetiousness seems to be a delightful thing, though nothing is more graceless than it.

For listen to the Scripture as it says:

'Before the thunder the lightning hastens, and before the modest man grace goes forth.'

But nothing is more shameless than the man given to buffoonery.

So that his mouth is filled not with grace, but with pain.

Let us banish this custom from our tables.

But there are some who teach even the poor this thing,

and make those in affliction to play the buffoon.

For where is this disease not present henceforth? It has already been introduced even into the Church; it has already laid hold even of the Scriptures.

Shall I say something to show the excess of the evil? I am ashamed indeed, but nevertheless I will speak;

for I wish to show to what lengths the evil has advanced, so that I may not seem to be quibbling and to be discoursing with you about some trifle, that even so I may be able to draw you away from the error.

And let no one suppose that I am inventing, but I will tell what I heard.

A certain man happened to be with one of those who pride themselves greatly on their learning;

and I know indeed that I shall provoke laughter, but nevertheless I will speak;

and when the platter was set before them, he said:

'Snatch it up, children, lest the belly grow angry.'

'Woe to you, Mammon, and to him who has you not.'

And buffoonery has brought in many such absurdities, as when they say:

'Is there no such thing as fate any more?' And I say this to point out the absurdity of the shameful disposition;

for these words belong to a soul destitute of reverence.

Are not these things worthy of thunderbolts? And many other such sayings, springing from

these, and others like them, one might find being spoken.

Wherefore, I beseech you, having banished this custom from every quarter, let us utter those things which befit us;

and let not holy mouths speak the words of the dishonorable and shameful.

For what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? and what communion has light with darkness? For it is a hard enough matter, even when we have withdrawn ourselves from all absurdities, to be able to attain the promised good things—much less when we drag along so many of these, and mar the exactness of our understanding through so great a burden.

For the man given to buffoonery will quickly become a slanderer;

and the slanderer heaps up for himself countless other evils.

Having therefore brought these two elements of the soul into order—desire and anger—and yoked them beneath the reason like well-reined horses, let us thus set the mind over them as charioteer, that we may also lay hold of the prize of the upward calling;

which may it come to pass that we all attain, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of the ages. Amen.