以弗所書講道集 第 19 章

See then that you walk circumspectly, not as unwise, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil.

not foolish, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.

He is still cleansing away the root of bitterness, still cutting off the occasion of wrath.

For what does he say? See that you walk circumspectly.

He knew his Master, that when He sent the disciples as sheep in the midst of wolves, He yet commanded them also to be as doves;

For you shall be harmless, He says, as doves.

Since then they were both in the midst of wolves, and were still enjoined not to defend themselves but to suffer ill, for this reason they had need of such exhortation.

And yet the former injunction was itself sufficient to make them stronger;

but when the addition of the two is present, consider the surpassing excellence.

See, then, how carefully he secures them, when he says:

Whole cities were waging war against them; and this war made its way even into their households.

Father against son, son against father, mother against daughter, daughter against mother—they were set at variance.

What then? Whence came these divisions? They had heard Christ saying:

He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.

So that they might not suppose that he was simply introducing wars and battles—for a great wrath was destined to be kindled, if they too were to retaliate—for this reason he says:

See then that you walk circumspectly.

That is to say: Apart from the preaching, give no occasion anywhere else for the hostility directed against you;

let this alone be the ground of their enmity;

let no one bring any other charge against you, but show all honor and obedience, so long as it does not harm the preaching, so long as it does not hinder godliness.

For he says, Render to all their dues: tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom.

For when they see us reasonable in other matters, they will be put to shame.

Not as unwise, but as wise, redeeming the time.

It is not because he wishes us to be shifty and manifold in character that he gives this exhortation;

but this is what he means:

The time is not yours;

now you are sojourners and pilgrims and strangers and aliens;

seek not honors, seek not glory, seek not power, nor revenge;

bear all things, and by this redeem the time;

lay down much, whatever they may wish.

Come then, let me make this plain by an example.

Imagine for me a man possessing a splendid house; then certain persons breaking in upon him so as to kill him, and he by giving much ransoms himself and delivers himself out;

then we say that he has ransomed himself.

So too you: you have a great house, and the true faith;

they come upon you to take away everything;

give whatever anyone may demand, only preserve the capital—I mean the faith.

For the days, he says, are evil.

What is the evil of the day? The evil of the day ought to pertain to the day itself.

If you learn what is evil in each of the things within us, you will also know what the evil of a day is.

What is the evil of the body? Disease.

And what is the evil of the soul? Wickedness.

What is the evil of water? Bitterness.

And in each case the evil is the badness pertaining to that very nature to which the evil belongs.

If, then, the evil pertains to the day, it must lie in the day itself, in its hours, in its light.

So too Christ says:

Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

From this we shall understand that other saying as well.

How then does he call the days evil? How does he call the time evil? Not by reason of their substance, nor of the created things, but on account of the things that come to pass in them;

just as it is customary with us also to say:

I have passed a hard and evil day;

and yet how could it be hard, except from the things that befall in it? But the things that befall in it—the good things are from God,

and the evil things from wicked men.

Therefore men are the makers of the evil things that befall in the times, and for this reason the times are called evil.

So too we call the times evil.

For this reason, he says, be not foolish, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.

And be not drunk with wine, wherein is dissoluteness.

For excess of this too makes men passionate and reckless and unsteady, prone to anger and hard to deal with.

Wine was given for gladness, not for drunkenness;

but now the matter has come to seem a mark of unmanliness and of ridicule—namely, not to be drunk.

What hope of salvation is there then? Is it, tell me, a laughing matter not to be drunk, in the very place where above all

of all things drunkenness ought to have been a laughing matter? For it is well that even the private citizen should be far from drunkenness;

but far more the soldier, who moves amid swords, amid blood, amid slaughters;

far more the soldier, when his passion is whetted from another quarter as well—from authority, from power, from being continually in plots and battles.

Do you wish to learn where wine is good? Hear the Scripture saying:

Give wine to those in sorrow, and strong drink to those in pain.

For it knows how to soften what is harsh and gloomy, and to drive away what is overcast.

Wine gladdens the heart of man, he says.

How then does drunkenness come from wine? For the same thing cannot work opposite effects upon itself.

Drunkenness, then, does not come from wine, but from excess.

Wine has been given to us for no other purpose than for the health of the body;

but excess hinders even this.

But hear also this blessed man writing and saying to Timothy:

Use a little wine for your stomach's sake and your frequent infirmities.

For this reason God made our bodies moderate in size, and to be satisfied with little, thereby already teaching us that he made us fit for another life.

And indeed he wished from the beginning to give us that life; but since we rendered ourselves unworthy, he deferred it;

and even in the time during which he has deferred it, not even in this does he permit us to indulge without measure;

for a measure of wine and a single loaf suffices to fill a man's belly.

And him who rules over all the irrational creatures he made, in proportion, to need less than they, and gave him a small body—signifying nothing else but this, that we are hastening toward another life.

Be not drunk with wine, he says, wherein is dissoluteness.

For it does not save, but destroys—not the body only, but the soul as well.

But be filled with the Spirit, speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your hearts to the Lord;

giving thanks always for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God and the Father, submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.

Do you wish, he says, to be glad? Do you wish to spend the day? I give you a spiritual draught.

For drunkenness cuts off even the distinct utterance of our tongue, making us stammer, and it distorts the eyes and, in a word, everything else.

Learn to sing psalms, and you will see the pleasure of the practice;

for those who sing psalms are filled with the Holy Spirit, just as those who sing satanic songs are filled with an unclean spirit.

What does it mean, 'In your hearts to the Lord'? It means, attending with understanding;

for those who do not attend merely sing at random, uttering the words while the heart is roaming elsewhere.

Always, he says, giving thanks for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God and the Father, submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.

That is to say, Let your requests be made known to God with thanksgiving;

for nothing so gladdens God as when one is thankful.

But we are especially able to give thanks by leading our soul away from the things mentioned before, cleansing it thoroughly by those things which he has named.

But be filled, he says, with the Spirit.

Is this in our power? Yes, indeed, it is in our power.

For when we drive away falsehood, bitterness, fornication, uncleanness, and covetousness from our soul; when we become kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another; when there is no coarse jesting present; when we make ourselves worthy—what is there to hinder the Holy Spirit from coming and alighting upon us? And He will not simply come, but will fill our heart.

And when there is so great a light within, virtue will no longer be hard for us to achieve, but easy and untroublesome.

Always giving thanks, he says, for all things.

What then? Must we give thanks for all things that befall us? Yes.

For if in the Old Testament a certain wise man admonished, saying:

'Whatever is brought upon you, receive gladly, and in the changes of your humiliation be patient;'

much more ought this to be done in the New.

So then, even if you do not understand the reason, give thanks.

But if you give thanks when you fare well and prosper and succeed and are in good fortune, it is nothing great, nothing wonderful;

what is required is to give thanks when one is in afflictions, in despondencies.

Utter nothing before this word: 'I thank You, Master.'

And why do I speak of the afflictions here? We ought to give thanks to God even for hell itself, for the punishments there, for the torments.

For the matter has greatly benefited us who give heed, since the fear of hell has been laid upon our hearts as a bridle.

Let us therefore give thanks not only for the manifest benefits, but also for the hidden ones, and for those by which we are benefited even against our will;

for He benefits us in many ways even when we are unwilling and do not know it.

And if you disbelieve, I will now make the matter plain to you.

Do not the abominable and unbelieving Greeks ascribe everything to the sun and to their idols? What then? Does He not benefit them also? Is it not of His providence that they live, and are healthy, and beget children, and all such things? And what of those called Marcionites? What of the Manichaeans? Do they not also blaspheme Him? What then? Does He not benefit them every day? But if He benefits those who do not acknowledge these things, much more does He benefit us.

For what other work of God is there than this, to benefit the race of men, both through punishments and through reliefs? Let us therefore not give thanks only when we are in prosperity.

And the devil knows this too;

'Does Job fear God for nothing? Have You not made a hedge about the things within him and the things without? Take away all that he has, and surely he will bless You to Your face.'

But nothing more came of it to that abominable one—may it never be, nor may anything more come of it to him concerning us either.

But also when we are in poverty, and when in sicknesses, and when in insults, then let us intensify our thanksgiving.

And I mean thanksgiving not with words nor with the tongue, but with deeds and works, and with the mind and the heart.

Let us give thanks to Him with all our soul.

For He loves us more than those who begot us;

and as great as is the distance between wickedness and goodness, so great is the difference of the love of God toward us compared with that of our fathers.

And these are not my words, but the words of Christ Himself who loves us.

And hear Him saying:

'What man is there of you, of whom if his son asks bread, will he give him a stone? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him?' And again hear Him saying in another place:

'Can a woman forget to have compassion on the offspring of her womb? Yet even if a woman should forget these, I will not forget you, says the Lord.'

For if He does not love us, why did He make us? Was He under any necessity? Do we fulfill any need or service for Him? Does He need anything from us? Hear the Prophet saying:

'You are my Lord, for You have no need of my good things.'

But the thankless and senseless say, 'Is this a mark of God's goodness—that there should be equality of honor among all?' Tell me, thankless man, what things do you say are not of God's goodness, and what equality of honor do you speak of? A certain man, he says, has been maimed from childhood; another rages and is possessed by a demon; another, having driven on to extreme old age, has passed his whole life in poverty; another in most grievous diseases;

are these the works of providence? One is deaf, another mute, another poor; while another, abominable and utterly abominable, and full of ten thousand evils, enjoys riches, and keeps harlots and parasites, and has acquired a splendid house, and lives a life free from care.

And they string together many such things, weaving a long discourse of accusation against the providence of God.

What then? Are these things without providence? What then shall we say to them? If they were Greeks, and were to tell us that the world is governed by someone, then in turn we too shall say the same things to them:

What then, are these things without providence? Then how is it that you worship gods, and bow down to demons and heroes? For if there is providence, someone presides over all things.

But if there are some who are utterly disheartened, whether Christians or even Greeks, and who are shaken,

what shall we say to them? Could so many good things, tell me, have come to be of their own accord—the daily light, the good order in things that exist, the dance of the stars, the equally balanced course of nights and days, the regular sequence of nature both in plants and in animals and in men? Who, tell me, is it that governs these things? If no one presided, but all things had come together of their own accord, who was it that set this vault—so beautiful, so vast, I mean the heaven—whirling it and establishing it upon the earth, or even upon the waters? Who is it that gives the fruit-bearing seasons? Who placed such great power in seeds and plants? For what comes of its own accord is altogether disordered;

but that which is well-ordered comes about with skill.

For tell me, which of the things among us that come of their own accord is not full of much disorder and much confusion and turmoil? And I do not say 'of their own accord,' but even 'made by someone, yet made without skill.'

For instance, let there be wood and stones, and let there be lime as well;

and let a man inexperienced in building take them and build and work;

would he not ruin and destroy everything? Again, let there be a ship without a helmsman, having all that a ship ought to have but lacking a craftsman—I do not mean unbuilt, but built;

would it be able to sail? And could so great an earth, standing upon water without some power holding it together, tell me, remain thus firmly fixed for so long a time? And would this have any reason to it? And is it not ten thousand times worthy of laughter to imagine such things? And if it should bear up the heaven as well, behold yet another burden;

but if heaven too were borne upon water, again there is another problem.

But everything is the work of providence.

For the things borne upon the waters ought not to be convex, but hollow.

Why so? Because in the case of the hollow, the whole body is immersed upon the waters, as in the case of the ship;

but in the case of the convex, the whole body is above, and only the extremities rest upon the water.

Therefore it needs a body that is resistant and hard and able to give support, so as to bear the burden that rests upon it.

But does air bear up the heaven? Yet this is far softer and more porous than water, and able to support nothing, not even the lightest things, much less so great a mass.

But, in short, if we should wish to go through the account of providence, both in general and by breaking it into parts, the whole age would fail us.

For I will ask the one who is now questioning those matters:

Are these things of providence, or of the lack of providence? And should he say that they are not of providence, I will again ask:

How then did they come to be? But he would have no reason to give.

Much more, then, ought you not to inquire into human affairs, nor to busy yourself curiously about them.

Why so? Because man is more honorable than all these things, and these were made for his sake, not he for their sake.

If, then, you do not know even the wisdom and the ordering of His providence alone, how shall you be able to know the reasons that pertain to Himself? Tell me now, why did He make man so small, and set so far from the height of heaven, that he is even in doubt about the things that appear above? And for what reason are the northern regions uninhabited, and the southern likewise? Tell me now, why has the night been made longer in winter but shorter in summer? Why is there so much cold, why heat, why a mortal body? And I ask you countless other things, and if you wish, I shall not cease from asking you, and in all of them you will be at a loss before me.

So that this above all belongs to providence, that the reasons should be hidden from us.

For otherwise a man might even have supposed that a human being was the cause of the universe, had not this humbled our understanding.

But such a one, he says, is poor, and poverty is an evil.

And what of sickness, what of maiming? These are nothing, O man.

There is one evil alone, to sin, and this alone we ought to examine.

But, leaving off inquiring into the causes of things that are truly evil, we busy ourselves curiously about other things.

Why does none of us ever examine why he has sinned? Is sinning within my power, or not within my power? And what need have I to go about with many arguments? I will seek the matter within myself.

Have I ever mastered my temper? Have I ever mastered my anger, whether out of shame or out of human fear? Then, when I find that this comes to pass, I shall discover that sinning is within me.

No one examines these things, no one busies himself with these.

But simply, as Job says, mortal man floats idly on words.

For what is it to you, if such a one is blind, and such a one poor? God did not enjoin you to look into this, but to consider what in fact you yourself are doing. For if you doubt that some power presides over the world, you are the most senseless of all.

But if you are persuaded of this, why do you doubt that one ought to please God? 'In everything,' he says, 'giving thanks to God for all things.'

Go into a surgery, and you will see, when someone is found having a wound, that man himself being cut and cauterized.

But in your case I do not say this; rather, go into a carpenter's workshop.

And you do not examine the reason, even though you know nothing of the things done there.

And many things seem to you to be beyond finding out.

For instance, when he turns the wood on the lathe, when he reshapes it.

Or rather, let me lead you to a more accessible craft, such as that of painters, and there too you will grow dizzy.

For tell me, does he not seem to you to do simply the things he does? For what do the lines and the sweeping curves of the lines mean to him? But when he applies the colors, then the art will appear beautiful to you; and yet not even so will you be able to learn anything precisely.

But why do I speak of carpenters and painters and our fellow servants? Tell me how the bee fashions its honeycombs, and then you shall also speak concerning God.

Learn thoroughly the work of the ants, of the spider, of the swallow, and then you shall speak also concerning God.

If you are wise, tell me these things.

Will you not then cease, O man, from inquiring into superfluous things? For these things are truly superfluous.

Will you not cease from busying yourself in vain? Nothing is wiser than this ignorance, in which those who profess to know nothing are the wisest of all, while those who meddle curiously are the most senseless of all.

So that to profess to know is not everywhere a mark of wisdom, but there are cases where it is even folly.

For tell me, if of two men the one should profess to measure the air that stretches from earth to heaven, extending measuring cords, while the other should laugh and say that he does not know, at which shall we laugh, tell me? At the one who says he knows, or at the one who does not know? Plainly at the one who says he knows.

So then the one who is ignorant is wiser than the one who promises to know.

And what if someone should profess to say how many ladlefuls the sea holds, while another should say he does not know—is not again the ignorance wiser than the knowing? Very much so.

Why so? Because that also is an intensified ignorance.

For he who says he does not know, knows one part.

What part is this? That it is incomprehensible to man.

But he who says he knows—that man above all does not know what he says he knows, and for this very reason he is ridiculous.

Alas, by how many things are we schooled to bridle our untimely meddling and our curiosity! And yet we do not endure it, but pry into the lives of others—why is such a one maimed, why is such a one poor? So then, by this reasoning we shall fall away into yet another piece of nonsense: why is such a one a woman, and not all men? Why an ass, why an ox, why a dog, why a wolf? Why a stone, why wood? And the argument will fall away into an infinite length.

For this very reason God has set limits to our knowledge, and laid them down within our nature.

And consider for me this great meddlesomeness.

That, while we gaze on so great a height from earth to heaven and suffer nothing, yet whenever we go up onto a lofty tower and wish to look down, bending over a little, straightway a certain dizziness and swimming darkness seizes us.

Tell me now the cause of this.

Why does the eye have a greater power, and yet is held fast by the things that are farther off?

And in the case of hearing likewise one may see the same thing. For no one will be able to shout so loud as to fill the air to the extent that the eye can take in, nor to hear from so great a distance.

Why are not all the members equally honored? Why did each not receive one function nor one place?

Paul too searched into these things—or rather, he did not search (for he was wise); but falling upon this passage he says:

'Each one of them He set as He willed.'

He committed the whole to His will.

So then let us also leave off inquiring into these things, and only give thanks for all things.

'Therefore,' he says, 'give thanks for all things.'

This is the mark of a grateful servant, this of a wise one, this—

while that other is the mark of one who is talkative and idle and meddlesome.

Do you not see among household servants, that those who are contemptible, nowhere useful, are talkative and full of chatter, and pry into their masters' affairs, the very things which those masters wish to hide?

But the prudent and grateful ones look to one thing only, how they may fulfill their service? He who utters much accomplishes nothing.

Just as he who does much says nothing out of season.

For this reason Paul said, writing concerning widows:

'Not only idle, but also gossips.'

Tell me now, which distance is greater—that of our age compared to that of children, or that of God compared to that of men? Ours compared to gnats, or God's compared to us? It is quite plain that it is God's compared to us.

Why then do you meddle so much? Give thanks for all things.

What then, he says, if a Greek should ask me, how shall I answer? He wishes to learn from me whether there is a providence; for he himself says that there is no one who exercises providence.

Well then, turn it round, and do you also question him.

But he says there is no providence.

That there is a providence is plain from what you have said;

and that it is incomprehensible is plain from the fact that we do not find out the reason.

For if in the things which men administer we often do not know the manner of the administration—though from these very things many appear to us to be even absurd, and yet we give way—how much more in the case of God? But with God nothing is absurd, nor does it seem so to the faithful.

Wherefore let us give thanks for all things, let us glorify Him for all things. 'Submitting yourselves,' he says, 'one to another in the fear of God.'

For if you submit for a ruler's sake, or for money's sake, or for shame's sake, much more for the fear of God's sake.

Let there be an exchange of servitude and subjection;

for thus there will be no servitude.

Let not the one sit in the rank of a freeman, and the other in the rank of a slave; but it is better that both masters and slaves should serve one another;

far better thus to be a slave, than in the other way to be free.

Suppose someone having a hundred household servants, and let none among them render service;

But suppose there are, on the other side, a hundred friends ministering to one another.

Which of the two will live the better life? Which with greater pleasure, with greater gladness? There is no anger there, no exasperation, no wrath, nor any other such thing.

There all is of necessity, but here all is of free choice.

There they serve under compulsion, but here they serve one another with gratitude.

For this reason He washed the feet of the disciples. Nay rather, if you are willing to examine the matter accurately, even in the case of masters there is a reciprocal rendering of service.

For what if pride does not allow the return of service to be seen? For when the servant renders bodily attendance, while you nourish his body, and care for it with food and clothing and shoes, this too is a kind of servitude.

For unless you also render your own service, neither will he render his; but he will be free, and no law will compel him to do this while he is unfed.

If then this holds even in the case of slaves, what is strange, if it should take place also in the case of free men? 'Submitting yourselves,' he says, 'in the fear of Christ.'

How great is the grace, when we even have a reward! But he is unwilling to submit himself to you? Yet do you submit yourself.

Do not merely obey, but submit yourself.

Be disposed toward all as though toward masters.

For thus you will quickly have them as servants, enslaved by the most tyrannical power of servitude.

For you will win them over the more, when, receiving nothing from them, you yourself bestow what is your own.

This is what it means, 'Submitting yourselves to one another in the fear of Christ,' that we may master all the passions, that we may serve God, that we may preserve our love toward one another.

And then we shall be able also to be counted worthy of the loving-kindness that is from God, by the grace and mercies, and so forth.