希伯來書講道集 第 25 章

By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac; and he that had received the promises offered up his only-begotten son—he to whom it was said, 'In Isaac shall thy seed be called.'

For he reasoned that God was able to raise him up even from the dead;

whence also he received him back in a figure.

Truly great was the faith of Abraham.

For in the case of Abel and Noah and Enoch there was a battle of reasonings only, and it was necessary to overcome merely human calculations;

but here it was necessary not only to overcome human reasonings, but also to display something yet greater.

For the things of God seemed to fight against the things of God, and faith battled against faith, and command against promise.

'Get thee out of thy land, and from thy kindred, and I will give thee this land';

and He gave him no inheritance in it, not even a foot of ground.

Do you see how the things that came to pass fought against the promise? Again He says:

'In Isaac shall thy seed be called,' and he believed;

'Sacrifice unto Me this one'—him who was to fill the whole world from his seed.

Do you see the battle of commands and promise? He commanded things contrary to the promises, and not even so was the righteous man dizzy with confusion, nor did he say that he had been deceived.

For you indeed, he says, cannot say this—that He promised ease and gave affliction;

for here the very things which He promised, these also He performs.

How so? 'In the world,' He says, 'ye shall have tribulation.'

'He that taketh not his cross and followeth Me is not worthy of Me.'

'He that hateth not his own life shall not find it;'

'Whosoever,' He says, 'renounceth not all that he hath, and followeth after Me, is not worthy of Me;'

'Before governors and kings.'

'A man's foes shall be they of his own household.'

And so much concerning affliction.

But in the case of Abraham it was the opposite:

he was commanded to do things contrary to the promises, and not even so was he troubled, nor dizzy, nor did he think that he had been deceived;

but you endure nothing beyond the promise, and yet you are troubled.

He heard things contrary to what had been promised, from the very One who had made those promises, and yet he was not troubled, but acted as though they were in harmony;

for indeed they were in harmony—contrary to human reasonings, yet in harmony by reason of faith;

and how, the Apostle himself taught us, saying:

'Reasoning that God was able to raise up even from the dead.'

From the same faith, he says—the faith by which he believed that God would grant him a son who did not yet exist—from that same faith he was persuaded that God would raise up even the dead, and would raise up the one who had been slain.

For it was equally impossible—I mean by human reasoning—both to give a child from a dead and aged womb that had already become useless for childbearing, and to raise up one that had been slain;

for the faith that had gone before paved the way for what was to come.

Moreover, he saw the good things first, and the difficult things later, in his old age.

But you, on the contrary, he says, have the sorrowful things first, and the good things last.

This is against those who dare to say, 'He promised us the good things after death; perhaps He has deceived us.'

He shows that God is able to raise up even from the dead;

and if God is able to raise up even from the dead, then assuredly He will render all things.

But if Abraham believed, so many years before, that God was able to raise up from the dead, much more ought we to believe.

Do you see that, as I said before, death had not yet entered, and yet at once He drew them to the hope of the resurrection, and led them to such full assurance, that even when commanded to slay their own sons, and to bring forward for sacrifice those from whom they expected to fill the whole world, they were ready to offer them? And here he shows another thing also, by saying, 'God tempted Abraham.'

What then? Did not God know that the man was noble and approved? Assuredly He did.

Why then did He try him, if He knew? Not that He Himself might learn, but that He might show it to others, and make his manliness manifest to all.

And here he shows also the cause of temptations, lest men should think that they suffer these things as being forsaken.

For here it is even a matter of necessity to be tempted, because there are many that drive us on and that plot against us;

but there, what necessity was there to devise temptations for him that had none? This temptation, then, was clearly one that came about by His command.

The other trials came to pass by His permission, but this one by His actual command.

If then He makes the events of temptations produce men so approved, that even when there is no cause God exercises His own athletes;

much more ought we to bear all things nobly.

And emphatically he said here that 'By faith he offered up Isaac, when he was tried';

for there was no other cause of the offering but this.

Then he goes on to develop the thought.

He cannot say, he means, that Abraham had another son also, and expected the promise to be fulfilled through that one, and therefore, being confident, offered this one.

'And he that had received the promises,' he says, 'offered up his only-begotten son.'

What do you mean, 'only-begotten'? What then of Ishmael? Whence was he? I say 'only-begotten,' he means, as far as the word of the promise is concerned;

for it was on this account that he added, saying 'only-begotten,' showing that it is on account of this one that he so speaks;

'to whom it was said, In Isaac shall thy seed be called'—that is, from him.

Do you see how he marvels at what was done by the patriarch? 'In Isaac,' he heard, 'shall thy seed be called,' and yet he was offering his son as a victim.

Then, lest anyone should think that he did this in despair, and that by this command he cast out that former faith, but that one might learn that this also was truly of faith, he says that he held that faith as well, even though it seemed to conflict with this;

for he did not measure the power of God by human reasonings, but committed all things to faith.

Wherefore he did not even fear to say that

'God is able to raise up even from the dead.'

'Whence also he received him back in a figure'—that is, in a type, in the ram, he says.

How so? For when the ram was slain, this one was saved;

so that he received him back by means of the ram, having slain that one in his stead.

Now these things were certain types.

For here it is the Son of God who is offered up in sacrifice.

And consider with me His loving-kindness, how great it was.

For since a great grace was about to be given to men, and He willed not to bestow it as a mere favour but as though He were a debtor, He first prepared a man to give up his own son on behalf of God's command, so that He might not seem to be doing anything great in giving up His own Son, seeing that a man had done this very thing before Him; that so it might be reckoned that He did this not out of grace only, but even as of a debt.

For those whom we love, this too we wish to grant them: that we should seem to have first received some small thing from them, and so to give them everything.

And we boast rather in the receiving than in the giving, and we do not say, 'This we gave to him,' but 'This we received from him.'

Wherefore, he says, He received him also in a parable—that is, as in a riddle.

For just as the ram of Isaac was a parable;

since the sacrifice had been completed and Isaac had been slain in intention, therefore He grants him back to the patriarch.

Do you see that what I am always saying is shown even now? For whenever we present our mind as perfected, and show that we despise earthly things, then He grants us the earthly things also; but not before, lest by the receiving He should bind us the more, who are still attached to them.

'Loose yourself first,' He says, 'from slavery, and then receive, that you may no longer receive as a slave, but as a master;

despise riches, and you shall be rich;

despise glory, and you shall be glorious;

despise vengeance upon your enemies, and then you shall attain it;

despise ease, and then you shall receive it;

that when you receive, you may not receive as a captive, nor as a slave, but as one who is free.'

For just as in the case of little children, whenever the child desires childish toys, we hide those things with much diligence—such as a ball and all such playthings—that it may not be hindered from the things that are necessary;

but whenever he despises them and no longer desires them, we give them to him without fear, knowing that no harm henceforth comes to him from this, since that desire has no longer any power to draw him away from the things that are necessary;

so also God, whenever He sees us no longer desiring the things here below, thereafter permits us to use them;

for we possess them as free men and grown men, not as children.

For that if you despise vengeance upon your enemies, then you shall attain it, hear what He says:

'If your enemy hunger, feed him;

for in doing this, you shall heap coals of fire upon his head.'

And again, that if you despise wealth, then you shall attain it, hear Christ saying:

'There is no one who has left father, or mother, or house, or brethren, who shall not receive a hundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life.'

And that if you despise glory, then you shall attain it, hear Christ again saying:

'Whoever wishes to be first among you, let him be your servant;

and again, 'For whoever humbles himself, this one shall be exalted.'

What do you say? If I give my enemy to drink, then do I punish him? If I let go my possessions, then do I have them? If I humble myself, then shall I be exalted? Yes, He says;

for such is My power: through opposites it furnishes opposites. I am resourceful and full of contrivance; do not be afraid;

the nature of things follows My will; I do not follow nature;

I work all things; I am not led by them;

wherefore I am able also to remould them and to refashion them.

And why do you marvel if such a thing happens in these matters? For you shall find the same in all other things as well.

For if you do wrong, you have been wronged;

if you are wronged, then you have not been wronged;

if you take revenge, then you have not avenged yourself, but have wronged yourself.

For 'he who loves unrighteousness,' it says, 'hates his own soul.'

Do you see that you do not wrong others, but have been wronged? For this reason Paul also says:

'Why do you not rather suffer wrong?' You saw that this is not

to be wronged? Whenever you insult another, then you have been insulted.

And this the many know in part;

as when they say to one another, 'Let us go away from here, do not insult yourself.'

Why? Because great is the distance between you and him;

for however much you insult him, that one counts it as glory.

Let us consider this in all cases, and we become higher than insults;

if we have a quarrel with the very man who wears the purple, in insulting him we consider that we insult ourselves;

for in befouling him, we too become worthy of being befouled.

What do you say, tell me? Being a citizen of the heavens, and possessing the philosophy above, do you befoul yourself along with him who minds earthly things? For though he possess ten thousand riches, though he be in power, he does not yet know your beauty.

Do not insult yourself in insulting him;

spare yourself, not him;

honour yourself, not him.

Is there not such a proverb, 'He who honours, honours himself'? And rightly so;

for he honours not that one, but himself.

Hear a certain wise man saying:

'Give honour to your soul according to its worth.'

What is 'according to its worth'? If another has taken advantage of you, he says, do not you take advantage in return;

Tell me, I beg you, if some poor man took mud thrown out from your courtyard, would you set up a court of law against him for this? By no means.

Why? That you may not insult yourself, that all may not condemn you.

For the rich man is poor, and the more he is rich, the more he becomes poor with true poverty.

Mud is gold, thrown out in a courtyard, not lying in your house;

for your house is heaven.

Will you then set up a court of law over this, and will not the citizens above condemn you? Will they not cast you out of their own fatherland—you who are so lowly, so worthless, as to choose to fight over a little mud? For if the world were yours, and then someone took it, you ought to turn away from it.

Do you not know that even if you set the whole inhabited world ten times over, and a hundred times, and ten thousand times, and twice as much again, it is not equal even to the smallest part of the good things in the heavens? He therefore who admires the things here, has insulted those things above, seeing that he counts these worthy of zeal, which fall so far short of those;

or rather, he will not even be able to admire those things;

for how can he, being enthralled to these? Let us then at length, I beseech you, cut through the ropes and the entangling cords;

for such are earthly matters.

How long shall we bend downwards? How long shall we plot against one another, like the wild beasts, like the fishes? Or rather, the wild beasts do not plot against their own kind, but against those of another kind;

for instance, a bear does not readily destroy a bear, nor does a serpent destroy a serpent, having reverence for its own kind;

but you, though sharing the same kind and possessing ten thousand claims of right—kinship, reason, the knowledge of God, the strength of nature, and ten thousand other things besides—you destroy your kinsman, who shares in the same nature, and encompass him with ten thousand evils.

For what does it matter that you do not thrust in the sword, nor plunge it into his right side? You do things more grievous than this, encompassing him with unending sorrows.

For had you done that deed, you would have released him from care;

but now you encompass him with famine and slavery, with fits of despair and many other sins.

These things I say, and in saying them I will not cease; not that I am preparing you to become murderers, nor exhorting you to come to this deed as though it were a lesser evil than that, but that you may not be over-confident, as if you were not going to render an account.

For he says, 'He who takes away his neighbour's livelihood and bread murders him.'

Let us at last restrain our hands within ourselves, I beseech you, let us restrain them;

or rather, let us not restrain them, but stretch them out rightly, not toward greed, but toward almsgiving;

let us not have the hand barren, nor withered;

for the hand that does not do almsgiving is withered;

but the one that is also grasping is defiled and unclean.

Let no one eat with such hands;

for this is an insult to those who are invited.

For tell me: if someone, having laid us down upon carpets and a soft couch and gold-embroidered linens in a bright and spacious house, and having set beside us a great multitude of attendants, and then having prepared a platter of silver and gold, and having filled it with many viands

costly and of every kind, and compelled us to eat;

if only we would endure him smearing his hands with filth, or even with human dung, and so reclining beside us — would anyone endure this punishment, and would he not rather reckon the thing an insult? For my part I think so, and would straightway spring away.

But now you behold, filled with filth that is filth indeed, not only the hands, but the very dishes themselves, and you do not spring away, you do not flee, you do not rebuke;

but if the man be in power, you even count the thing a great matter, and you destroy your own soul by feeding on such food.

For greed is worse than any filth;

for it defiles the soul, not the body, and makes it hard to wash clean.

You, therefore, seeing him who reclines dyed with this filth, both his hands and his face, and the house filled with it, and the table too filled with it (for those viands are more unclean and more defiled than dung, and than whatever is worse than that), yet you are disposed as though you had been honoured, and as though you were about to feast luxuriously; and you do not even fear Paul, who, if we should wish, permits us to go unhindered to the table of the Greeks, but does not allow us to go to the tables of the greedy even if we wish? 'For if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator,' he says;

here by 'brother' he means simply every believer, not the one who lives as a monk.

For what is it that makes the brotherhood? The washing of regeneration, the being able to call God Father.

So that the catechumen, even if he be a monk, is not a brother;

but the believer, even if he be a man of the world, is a brother.

'If any one,' he says, 'that is called a brother.'

For at that time there was not even a trace of the monastic life, but this blessed man was addressing himself entirely to men of the world.

'If any one,' he says, 'that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or a drunkard, with such a one not even to eat.'

But concerning the Greeks it is not so, but what? 'If any of the unbelievers invite you' — meaning the Greeks — 'and you are disposed to go, eat whatever is set before you.'

'But if any one that is called a brother,' he says, 'be a drunkard' —

yet we not only do not flee the drunkards, but even go off to them, to partake of what is theirs.

For this reason all things have been turned upside down, all things have been confounded and overthrown and brought to ruin.

For tell me: if one of such men should invite you — you the poor man, reckoned of no account — to a prepared banquet, and then should hear from you that, since the things set before him come from greed, you will not consent to defile your own soul, would he not be ashamed? Would he not be abashed? Would he not be put to confusion? This alone would have been enough to set him right, and to make him count himself wretched over his wealth, but to marvel at you over your poverty, if indeed he saw himself despised by you with so great earnestness.

But we have become slaves of men, I know not how, though Paul cries out again and again, up and down;

'Do not become slaves of men.'

Whence, then, have we become slaves of men? Because we first became slaves of the belly and of money and of glory and of all the rest;

we betrayed the freedom that Christ bestowed upon us.

What, then, awaits him who has become a slave, tell me? Hear Christ saying;

'The slave does not abide in the house for ever.'

You have an absolute sentence, that he never enters into the kingdom;

'For in the house of my Father,' he says, 'are many mansions.'

The slave, then, does not abide in the house for ever;

by 'slave' he means that slave, the slave of sin;

and he who does not abide in the house for ever, abides in Gehenna for ever, having comfort from no quarter.

But indeed matters have come to such a pitch of wickedness, that men even do alms out of these gains, and receive many.

For this reason our boldness of speech has been cut off, and we cannot even rebuke anyone.

But nevertheless, let us at least from now on flee the harm that comes from this;

and you who unroll this filth, cease from such defilement, and check your eagerness at such banquets, if somehow even now we may be able to appease God, and to attain the good things that have been promised;

which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and

loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour to the Father, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.