馬太福音講道集 第 37 章

Now as these were departing, Jesus began to say to the multitudes concerning John:

'What went you out into the wilderness to behold? A reed shaken by the wind? But what went you out to see? A man clothed in soft garments? Behold, they that wear soft raiment are in kings' houses.'

'But what went you out to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet.'

For as regards the disciples of John, the matter was well ordered, and being confirmed they went away by reason of the signs that had just then taken place;

but it remained now also to heal what concerned the people.

For they indeed would have suspected no such thing concerning their own teacher;

but the great multitude, from the inquiry of John's disciples, would have surmised many strange things, not knowing the intent with which he sent the disciples.

And it was likely that they reasoned within themselves and said:

'He that testified so many things has now changed his mind, and is in doubt whether this be He, or another should be the Coming One? Can it be that he says these things out of rivalry against Jesus? Can it be that he has become more timid by reason of the prison? Can it be that in vain and at random he spoke his former words?' Since then it was likely that they suspected many such things, mark how He corrects their weakness, and does away with these suspicions.

For as they were departing, He began to say to the multitudes.

Why 'as they were departing'? That He might not seem to be flattering the man.

And in setting the people right, He does not bring their surmise into their midst, but only applies the solution to the reasonings that were troubling them in their mind, showing that He knew the secret things of all.

'Why do you think evil?' For even though they had such thoughts, they were reasoning these things not out of wickedness, but out of ignorance of the things that had been said.

For this reason He does not converse with them reprovingly, but only sets right their understanding, and makes a defense on John's behalf;

and He shows that John had not fallen away from his former opinion, nor had he changed.

For neither is he an easy and lightly swayed man, but firmly fixed and steadfast, and not such a one as to betray the things entrusted to him.

And in establishing these things, He does so not at once out of His own declaration, but first from their own testimony;

not only by the things they said, but also by the things they did, showing that they themselves bore witness to his steadfastness.

'What went you out into the wilderness to see?' It was as though He said:

'Why did you all leave the cities and the houses and come together into the wilderness? That you might see some pitiable and easily-swayed man? But that would have no reason.'

For that eager zeal does not show this, nor the fact that all ran together into the wilderness.

For so great a people and so many cities would not with such great eagerness have poured forth then into the wilderness and to the river Jordan, unless you had expected to behold some great and marvelous man, firmer than a rock.

For assuredly you did not go out to see a reed shaken by the wind;

for the easily swayed, and those readily carried about, and saying now these things, now those, and standing firm on nothing, most closely resemble this.

And mark how, setting aside every wickedness, He fixes upon this, the very thing that was then most lurking beneath among them, and does away with the supposition of fickleness;

'But what went you out to see? A man clothed in soft garments? Behold, they that wear soft raiment are in kings' houses.'

And what He says is of this sort: that from his very nature he was not easily swayed;

and this you yourselves made manifest by your eager zeal.

Nor, moreover, could anyone say this: that he was firm indeed, but afterward, having become a slave to luxury, grew soft and slack.

For of men, some are such from their very nature, and others become so;

for instance, one is by nature prone to anger, while another, having fallen into a long sickness, acquires this malady.

Again, some are fickle and light by nature, while others become so from being slaves to luxury and living softly.

But John, He says, was neither such by nature;

for you did not go out to see a reed;

nor, by giving himself over to luxury, did he lose the advantage which he possessed.

For that he was not a slave to luxury, his robe and the wilderness and the prison make manifest.

For if he had wished to wear soft garments, he would not have dwelt in the wilderness, nor in the prison, but in palaces.

For it was in his power, merely by keeping silent, to enjoy ten thousand honors.

For where Herod so reverenced him even when he reproved and was bound, much more would he have flattered him had he kept silent.

Since then in deed he gave proof of his steadfastness and endurance, how could it be just to suspect him in such matters?

And so, having characterized his disposition from the place, and from his garments, and from the concourse of people, He proceeds now to bring forward the prophet as well.

For having said, 'What went you out to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet,' He says;

'for this is he of whom it is written:'

'Behold, I send My messenger before Your face, who shall prepare Your way before You.'

First having set down the testimony of the Jews, then He applies that of the prophets;

or rather, first He sets down the Jewish verdict, which would be a very great proof, when the testimony is borne by enemies;

second, the life of the man;

third, His own judgment;

fourth, the prophet, on every side stopping their mouths.

Then, lest they should say, 'What then, if he was indeed such at that time, but now has changed?' He added also the things that came after these: the garments, the prison, and along with these the prophecy.

Then, having said that he was greater than a prophet, He shows also in what respect he was greater.

In what respect then was he greater? In that he was near to Him who had come.

'For behold,' He says, 'I send My messenger before Your face;'

For just as, in the case of kings, those who ride near the royal chariot are more illustrious than the rest,

so he appears riding close to His very coming.

See how here too He set forth his pre-eminence;

and He does not even stop here, but henceforth adds His own verdict as well, saying:

'Verily I say unto you, among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist.'

And what He says means this:

No woman has borne a greater than this man.

And the pronouncement by itself indeed suffices;

but if you wish to learn it also from the facts, consider his table, his manner of life, the loftiness of his mind.

For he lived as though in heaven, and being raised above the necessities of nature, he trod a strange and wondrous path, spending all his time in hymns and prayers, and holding converse with no man, but with God alone continually.

For neither did he see any of his fellow-servants, nor was he seen by any of them; he was not nursed with milk, he enjoyed not a bed, nor a roof, nor a market-place, nor any other of the things of men;

and yet he was at once gentle and vehement.

Hear then how with mildness he converses with his own disciples, how with manliness with the people of the Jews, how with boldness with the king.

'Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist.'

But lest again the excess of the praises should breed some absurdity, the Jews preferring him to Christ, observe how He corrects this too.

For just as, by the things whereby the disciples were edified, the multitudes were harmed, deeming Him to be an ordinary man,

so also from the things whereby the multitudes were being healed, the harm would have become greater, they taking up from what had been said a notion of him more august than of Christ.

Wherefore He corrects this also without exciting suspicion, saying:

'But he that is less in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.'

Less in respect of age, and in respect of the opinion of the many;

for indeed they called Him a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber;

and, 'Is not this the carpenter's son?' and everywhere they made Him of no account.

Was He then greater than John by way of comparison? Away with the thought!

For neither does John, when he says, 'He is mightier than I,' speak by way of comparison;

nor does Paul, when making mention of Moses he writes, 'For this man was counted worthy of more glory than Moses,' write by way of comparison.

And He Himself, in saying, 'Behold, a greater than Solomon is here,' does not speak by way of comparison.

But if we should even grant that this was said by Him by way of comparison, it was done by way of condescension, because of the weakness of the hearers.

For the people were exceedingly agape after him;

and at that time the prison too had made him more illustrious, as had his boldness towards the king, and it was for the present a welcome thing that this should be accepted by the many.

For indeed the Old Testament also knows how to correct the souls of them that have gone astray in this way, comparing things incomparable by way of comparison:

'There is none like unto Thee among the gods, O Lord;'

and again, 'There is no god like our God.'

But some say that Christ said this concerning the apostles;

for when men have turned aside from the truth, they are wont to wander much.

For what consistency is there in speaking either of angels or of apostles? And besides, if He were speaking of the apostles, what hindered Him from bringing them forward by name? For in speaking of Himself, He reasonably conceals His person, because of the suspicion still prevailing, and so as not to seem to say something great concerning Himself;

for indeed in many places He is seen doing this.

And what does 'in the kingdom of heaven' mean? Among things spiritual, and all things pertaining to heaven.

And His saying, 'Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John,' was the language of one contrasting John with Himself, and thus excepting Himself.

For even if He too was born of a woman, yet not in the same manner as John;

for He was not a mere man, nor was He born in like manner with man, but by a strange and marvellous birth.

'And from the days of John the Baptist,' He says, 'until now, the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.'

And what consistency has this with the things before spoken? Much indeed, and very harmonious.

For henceforth from this too He urges and presses them on towards faith in Himself;

and at the same time He also bears witness in support of the things before said by John.

'It is fulfilled: I am He that should come.'

'For all the prophets and the law,' He says, 'prophesied until John.'

For the prophets would not have ceased, unless I had come.

Look therefore for nothing further, nor await any other.

For that I am He is plain both from the prophets having ceased, and from those who day by day seize the faith in Me.

For so plain and clear is it, that many even seize it by force.

And who seized it? Tell me.

All they that come with earnestness.

Then He sets down yet another proof, saying:

'If ye will receive it, this is Elijah, which is to come.'

'For I will send you,' He says, 'Elijah the Tishbite, who shall turn the heart of the father to the children.'

'This one, then, is Elijah, if ye attend with exactness,' He says.

For, 'I will send,' He says, 'My messenger before Thy face.'

And well did He say, 'If ye will receive it,' showing that it is not by compulsion.

And this He said, requiring a candid mind, and making it plain that this one is that other, and that other is this one.

For both undertook one ministry, and both became forerunners.

Wherefore neither did He say simply, 'This is Elijah,' but, 'If ye will receive it, this is he;'

that is, if with a candid mind ye attend to the things that are done.

And He did not even stop here, but added, showing that there was need of understanding, in regard to the words, 'This is Elijah which is to come: he that hath ears to hear, let him hear.'

And so many enigmas He set forth, stirring them up to inquiry.

But if not even so were they roused, much less would they have been had the things been plain and clear.

For neither could one say this, that they durst not ask, and that He was hard of access.

For they who questioned and tempted Him about ordinary matters, and though silenced ten thousand times yet desisted not, how would they not have inquired and asked about necessary things, if indeed they had desired to learn? For if concerning the ordinances they asked, which is the first commandment, and all such things—though there was no necessity to say these—how would they not have searched out the meaning of the things spoken by Him, of which He was the more responsible in His answers? And especially when He Himself was the one urging them to this, and drawing them on? For by saying, 'The violent take it by force,' He rouses them to zeal;

and by saying, 'He that hath ears to hear, let him hear,' He does this same thing.

'But to what shall I liken this generation?' He says.

'It is like unto children sitting in the market-place, and saying:'

'We piped to you, and you did not dance;'

'we mourned to you, and you did not lament.'

These words again seem to be disconnected from what precedes them, yet they follow very closely upon them.

For He is still keeping to the same main theme, and to the demonstration that John was acting in harmony with Him, even though what each of them did was contrary to the other;

just as He did also in the matter of the question put to Him;

and He shows that nothing which ought to have been done for their salvation was omitted;

which is just what the prophet says concerning the vineyard:

'What more was there to do for my vineyard, that I have not done for it?' 'For to what,' He says, 'shall I liken this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplace, who say:'

'We piped to you, and you did not dance;'

'we mourned to you, and you did not lament.'

'For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say:'

'The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say:'

'Behold, a man who is a glutton and a wine-bibber, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.'

Now what He means is this:

'Each of us, I and John, came by a contrary road, yet we did one and the same thing; just as if some hunters, when a quarry hard to catch is about to fall into the snares by two different ways, should each take up one of the roads and drive it on, standing over against one another, so that the beast must by all means fall into the one snare or the other.'

Consider, then, the whole race of mankind, how it is amazed at the marvel of fasting, and at this austere and philosophic manner of life.

For this reason it was so ordered that John should from his earliest years be nurtured in this way, in order that from this very fact the things spoken by him might be worthy of credit.

'And why then,' one may ask, 'did not He Himself choose this road?' Indeed, in the first place He too did walk in it, when He fasted the forty days, and went about teaching, and had no place where to lay His head.

But nevertheless, in another way also He was accomplishing this very same end, and was providentially securing the gain that came from it.

For it amounted to the same thing—or even to something far greater—as His having Himself walked in that road, that He should be borne witness to by the one who did walk in it.

Moreover, John displayed nothing beyond his manner of life and his conduct;

for 'John,' it is said, 'did no sign;'

but He Himself had also the testimony that comes from signs and from wonders.

Leaving John, therefore, to shine by his fasting, He Himself took the contrary road, going in to the tables of tax collectors, and eating and drinking.

Let us then ask the Jews:

Is fasting good and admirable? Then you ought to have obeyed John, and to have received him, and to have believed the things spoken by him.

For in this way those very words would have brought you to Jesus.

But is fasting burdensome and grievous? Then you ought to have obeyed Jesus, and to have believed Him who came by the contrary road.

For by either road you were destined to fall into the kingdom.

But like an intractable wild beast, you reviled them both.

The blame, therefore, did not lie with those who were not believed, but it was an accusation against those who did not believe.

For no one would ever choose to censure opposite things, just as neither would he praise them both.

He who approves of the cheerful and easy-going man will not approve of the sullen and severe one;

and he who praises the sullen one will not praise the cheerful one.

For it is impossible to cast one's vote both for the one and for the other.

For this reason He Himself also says:

'We piped to you, and you did not dance;'

that is, 'I set before you the easy-going life, and you were not persuaded.'

'And, We mourned, and you did not lament;'

that is, 'John pursued the austere and severe life, and you gave no heed.'

And He does not say, 'He piped this, and I piped that;'

but since the purpose of both was one, even though their practices were contrary, for this reason He says that what was done was shared in common.

For indeed the very going by the contrary road came about from a concerted harmony, and one that looked toward a single end.

'What defense, then, could you henceforth have?' Therefore He also added:

'And wisdom was justified by her children;'

that is, 'Even if you were not persuaded, yet you can no longer bring a charge against me.'

which is just what the prophet says concerning the Father:

'That You may be justified in Your words.'

For God, even though He should accomplish nothing further by His care for us, yet fulfills all that pertains to Himself, so that to those who wish to be shameless He may leave not even the shadow of an unreasonable excuse.

But if the illustrations be lowly and of ill repute, do not marvel;

for He was speaking with a view to the weakness of the hearers.

Since Ezekiel too uses many illustrations that are suited to them, and unworthy of the majesty of God.

But this very thing is especially worthy of His providential care.

Observe them, moreover, from another side too, how they were carried about into contrary opinions.

For having said concerning John that he had a demon, they did not stop there, but concerning Him too, who chose the contrary course, they said again this very same thing;

thus they were ever being carried about into self-contradictory opinions.

But Luke, along with these things, sets down yet another and greater accusation against them, saying:

'For the tax collectors justified God, being baptized with the baptism of John.'

Then afterward He reproaches the cities, once wisdom had been justified, once He had shown all things to have been fulfilled.

For since He had not persuaded them, He then pronounces woe upon them, which is more forceful than to frighten.

For He had displayed both the teaching that comes by words, and the wonder-working that comes by signs.

But since they remained in their unbelief, He then reproaches them.

'For then,' it says, 'Jesus began to reproach the cities in which most of His mighty works had been done, because they did not repent, saying:'

Then, that you may learn that they were not such by nature, He sets down also the name of the city from which five apostles came forth.

For both Philip and those two pairs of the chief apostles were from there.

'For if the mighty works which were done in you,' He says, 'had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.'

'But I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the day of judgment than for you.'

'exalted to heaven, you shall be brought down to Hades;'

'for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day.'

'But I say to you, that it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for you.'

And He does not add Sodom to their case simply, but so as to heighten the accusation. For it is the greatest proof of wickedness, when men are shown to be worse not merely than those alive at the time, but even than all the wicked who ever lived.

So too in another place He makes a comparison, condemning them by the men of Nineveh and by the queen of the south;

but there indeed by those who had done well;

while here it is even by those who had sinned, which was far more grievous.

This law of condemnation Ezekiel also knew;

wherefore he also said to Jerusalem:

'Thou hast justified thy sisters in all thy sins.'

Thus everywhere He is wont to dwell fondly upon the Old Testament.

And not even here does He bring His discourse to a stand, but He also intensifies the fear, saying that they shall suffer things more grievous than the men of Sodom and of Tyre, so as to draw them on from every side, both by pronouncing them wretched and by making them afraid.

Let us therefore also give heed to these things.

For not to unbelievers only, but to us also, He appointed a chastisement more grievous than that of the men of Sodom, if we shall not receive the strangers who come in unto us — He who bade us even shake off the very dust.

For those men, even if they sinned lawlessly, yet it was before the law and before grace;

but we, after so great care bestowed on us, of what pardon should we be worthy, showing such hatred of strangers, and shutting our doors against those in need, and, before our doors, our ears? Nay rather, not against the poor only, but against the very apostles. For it is on account of the apostles that He speaks also of the poor.

For when Paul is read, and thou givest no heed; when John preaches, and thou dost not hear — when wilt thou receive a poor man, thou who receivest not an apostle? In order therefore that both to these our houses, and to those our ears, may be continually open, let us cleanse away the filth from the ears of the soul.

For just as filth and mire block the ears of the flesh, so do lewd songs, and worldly tales, and matters of debts, and talk of interest and loans, obstruct the hearing of the mind more grievously than any filth;

nay rather, they not only obstruct it, but also make it unclean.

For indeed they cast dung into your ears, they that recount such things.

And that which the barbarian threatened, saying:

'Ye shall eat your own dung,' and what follows;

this these men make you endure, not in word, but by their very deeds;

or rather, something far more grievous.

For those songs are yet more loathsome than these things;

and what is indeed more grievous, that not only do ye not think yourselves troubled in hearing them, but ye even laugh, when ye ought to abhor and to flee.

But if they are not abominable to thee, go down into the orchestra, emulate that which thou praisest;

nay rather, do but go along with him who stirs up that laughter.

Why then dost thou pay him so great honour? Even the laws written by the Greeks will have such men to be without honour;

but thou receivest them with the whole city, as ambassadors and generals, and summonest all, that they may receive dung into their ears.

And if a household servant utter something shameful in thy hearing, he will receive countless stripes;

and if a son, or a wife, or whosoever it be, do this same thing, thou callest the deed an outrage;

but if men who are gallows-rogues and worth three obols call thee to hear shameful words, not only art thou not indignant, but thou even rejoicest and praisest.

And what could be equal to this unreasonableness? But thou dost not thyself utter these shameful things? And what is the gain? Nay rather, whence is even this itself manifest? For if thou hadst not uttered them, neither wouldest thou have laughed on hearing, nor wouldest thou with such eagerness have run to the voice that puts thee to shame.

For tell me, dost thou rejoice to hear those that blaspheme? Nay, dost thou not shudder, and stop thine ears? For my part, I think so.

Why then? Because thou dost not thyself blaspheme.

Do thou therefore in like manner also in the case of foul language;

and if thou wouldest show us plainly that thou takest no pleasure in uttering shameful things, endure not even to hear them.

For when wilt thou be able to become earnest,

being nourished on such hearings? When wilt thou endure to bear the sweats endured for chastity, while thou art little by little slipping away through the laughter and the songs and these shameful words? For it is a matter of thankfulness if a soul, kept pure from all these things, can become grave and chaste — much less one nourished on such hearings.

Or know ye not that we are more prone toward evil? When therefore we make even this our art and our business, when shall we escape that furnace? Hast thou not heard what Paul says:

'Rejoice in the Lord'? He said not:

When then wilt thou be able to hear Paul? When to gain perception of thy transgressions, being ever and continually drunk from that spectacle? For that thou hast come here is no marvel or great thing;

for here indeed thou comest carelessly and as a mere matter of form;

but there with eagerness and running and much readiness of mind.

And this is plain from what thou carriest home, on returning from thence.

For indeed all the mire that was poured out upon you there through the words, through the songs, through the laughter, each of you gathers up and carries into his house;

nay rather, not into the house only, but each into his own mind.

And the things that are not worthy of abhorrence thou turnest away from, but the abominable things thou dost not hate, but even lovest.

Many, at all events, on returning from tombs have washed themselves;

but on withdrawing from the theatres they neither groaned, nor poured forth fountains of tears;

and yet the dead body is not unclean;

but sin implants so great a stain, that not even by ten thousand fountains can it be washed away, but only by tears and confessions.

But there is no one who perceives this stain.

For since we fear not the things we ought, therefore we dread the things we ought not.

And what is the din? and what the tumult, and the satanic shoutings, and the devilish postures? For one, being young, wears his hair long behind, effeminating his nature, and by his look, and his posture, and his garments, and by all things simply, is eager to pass into the image of a tender maiden.

And another, an old man, contrary to this one, having shaved off his hair close with a razor, and girt about his sides, standing ready to be buffeted, having cut away his sense of shame sooner than his hair, prepared to say and to do everything.

And the women stand with bared heads, all shame cast off, discoursing before the populace, practising such a study of shamelessness, and pouring all wantonness and lasciviousness into the souls of the hearers.

And their one endeavour is to pluck up chastity by the very roots, to put nature to shame, to fulfil the desire of the evil demon.

For indeed there are shameful words there, and postures more shameful, and such a cutting of the hair, and a gait, and a dress, and a voice, and a wanton breaking of the limbs, and rollings of the eyes, and pipes, and flutes, and dramas, and plots, and everything simply full of the uttermost lasciviousness.

When then wilt thou be sober again, tell me, while the devil pours out on thee so much unmingled fornication, mingling so many cups of licentiousness for thee? For there are also adulteries there, and thefts of marriage, and women there playing the harlot, men who have consorted with harlots, youths made effeminate — all things full of transgression, all of monstrousness, all of shame.

It behoved not then those who sit by to laugh at these things, but to weep and to groan bitterly.

What then? Shall we shut up the orchestra, saith one, and shall all things be overthrown by thy word? Nay, it is now that all things have been overthrown.

For whence come those that lay snares against marriages? tell me;

is it not from this stage? Whence those that dig through bridal chambers? is it not from that orchestra? Is it not hence that husbands become burdensome to their wives? is it not hence that wives become despised by their husbands? is it not hence that the more part are adulterers? So that he who overthrows all things is the man that goes to the theatre, that brings in a grievous tyranny.

Nay, saith one, but this is thought to be a part of the good order of the laws.

For to tear women asunder, and to outrage young boys, and to overthrow houses, belongs to those who have seized the citadels.

And who, saith one, has become an adulterer from these spectacles? Who indeed

has not become an adulterer? And if it were possible to name them now by name, I should have shown how many men those harlots have severed from their wives, how many they took captive, raising some up from the very bed, and not permitting others so much as at the first to enter into marriage.

shall we overthrow all the laws? Nay, it is lawlessness that one may overthrow, in doing away with these theatres.

For those who ruin the cities are of this sort;

from thence at any rate come factions and disturbances.

For those who are maintained by dancers, and who sell their own voice to the belly, whose business it is to shout and to do everything absurd — these most of all are they that inflame the populace, that bring in disturbances upon the cities.

For youth, once seized by idleness and nurtured amid so many evils, becomes wilder than any beast.

For tell me, the sorcerers—whence come they? Is it not from this source? That they may excite a populace idly at leisure, and cause the dancers to reap the profit of much uproar, and set harlot women as a rampart against the chaste, they resort to such enchantments as not even to shrink from disturbing the bones of the departed.

Is it not from this source, when men are compelled to squander countless sums upon that wicked chorus of the devil? And whence comes licentiousness and the ten thousand evils? Do you see that you overturn life by dragging men to these things, while I build it up by tearing them down?

'Let us then pull down the orchestra,' one says.

Would that it were possible to pull it down!

Or rather, if you are willing, our part of it has already been pulled down and razed to the ground.

Yet I command none of these things.

Render inoperative the things that still stand—which is a greater praise than to pull them down.

If you will imitate no one else, at least emulate the barbarians;

for they too keep themselves pure from every such spectacle.

What defense, then, shall be left to us, when we—citizens of the heavens, fellow dancers with the Cherubim, companions of the angels—become in this respect worse even than the barbarians, and that when it is possible to find ten thousand other delights far better than these? For if you wish to refresh your soul, walk out into the gardens, to a flowing river and to pools;

study the gardens, listen to the cicadas singing, frequent the shrines of the martyrs, where there is health of body and profit of soul, and no harm at all, nor repentance after the pleasure, as there is in those other places.

You have a wife, you have children;

what pleasure is equal to this? You have a home, you have friends—these are the delights that, together with self-control, yield great gain as well.

For what is sweeter than children, tell me? What sweeter than a wife, to the man who wishes to live chastely? The barbarians, indeed, are said once to have uttered a saying full of wisdom.

For hearing about these lawless theaters and their unseasonable delight, they said: 'The Romans, as though they had no children and no wives, have devised for themselves such pleasures as these';

thereby showing that nothing is sweeter than children and a wife, if you are willing to live honorably.

'What then,' he says, 'if I show that men take no harm from spending time there?' Above all, this very thing is harmful—to waste one's time idly and to no purpose, and to become a stumbling block to others.

For even though you yourself take no harm, you make another more eager for this.

And how shall you yourself escape harm, providing occasions for the things that are done? For the sorcerer, and the prostituted boy, and the harlot woman, and all those diabolical choruses lay upon your head the responsibility for the things that are done.

For just as, if there were no spectators, there would be none who pursued these practices,

so, since there are spectators, they too share in the fire of the things that are done.

So that even if you took no harm at all as to your chastity—which is impossible—yet you will render a grievous account for the destruction of others, both of the spectators and of those who gather them together.

And you would have gained the more in chastity, had you not gone there.

For even if you are now chaste, you would have become more chaste by fleeing such spectacles.

Let us not, then, contend over superfluous things, nor devise useless defenses.

For there is but one defense: to flee the Babylonian furnace, to get far away from the Egyptian harlot, even though one must escape her hands naked.

For thus shall we also enjoy much pleasure, our conscience not accusing us, and

we shall live the present life with self-control, and shall attain the good things to come, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and dominion, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.