腓立比書講道集 第 9 章

'But I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you shortly, that I too may be of good courage when I know the things concerning you.'

'For I have no one like-minded, who will genuinely care for the things concerning you.'

'For all seek their own things, not the things of Christ Jesus.'

He had said that 'the things concerning me have turned out for the advancement of the Gospel, so that my bonds have become manifest throughout the whole praetorium;'

he had said, 'Even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith;'

he had strengthened them by these words.

Perhaps they might have suspected that his earlier statements were said for the sake of consolation.

What then does he do, and how does he dispel the suspicion? 'I am sending Timothy to you,' he says;

for indeed they longed to hear all the things concerning him.

And why did he not say, 'That you may know the things concerning me,' but, 'That I may know your affairs'? For Epaphroditus was to report his affairs before Timothy;

wherefore, going on, he says, 'But I considered it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus the brother.'

'But your affairs,' he says, 'I wish to learn.'

For it is likely that he had spent a long time with Paul because of his bodily weakness.

'So that of necessity,' he says, 'I wish to learn the things concerning you.'

Observe how he ascribes everything to Christ, even the sending of Timothy, saying, 'But I hope in the Lord Jesus,' that is, 'I am confident that God will make this easy for me, that I too may be of good courage when I know the things concerning you.'

'Just as I was restored,' he says, 'when I heard those things which you prayed for concerning me—that the Gospel had advanced, that those men were put to shame, that by the very means through which they thought to harm me they gladdened me—'

'so I wish also to learn your affairs, that I too may be of good courage when I know the things concerning you.'

He shows here that they ought to have rejoiced over his bonds, and to have followed after them;

for they brought him much pleasure;

for the words 'that I too may be of good courage' mean this: 'just as you.'

Ah, how great a longing he had for Macedonia!

And he bears the same witness to the Thessalonians, as when he says, 'But we, being bereft of you for a short season of an hour.'

And here too, 'I hope,' he says, 'to send Timothy, that I may know the things concerning you;'

for when he himself could not be present, he would send his disciples, not enduring to be ignorant even for a short time of their affairs;

for indeed he did not learn everything by the Spirit;

and this too happened with good reason.

For if the disciples had been convinced of this, they would have become shameless;

but as it was, expecting to escape notice, they more easily corrected themselves.

And by this most of all he turned them round, by saying, 'That I too may be of good courage,' and he made them more zealous, so that even if Timothy did not come, they would find someone and report to him.

And he himself is seen to have used this same method, postponing his own coming so that the Corinthians might change.

'Sparing you, I came no more to Corinth.' For love is shown not only by reporting one's own affairs, but also by seeking to learn those of others;

for this belongs to a soul that is anxious and full of care and ever in earnest striving.

And at the same time he also honors them, in sending Timothy to them.

What are you saying? You are sending Timothy? For what reason then? 'Yes,' he says.

'For I have no one likeminded'—that is, no one among those who share the same concern as I do, who would genuinely care for your affairs.

Did he then have no one among his companions who was likeminded? No one.

But what does this mean? It stands for: one who cares for you and is anxious about you just as I am.

'One would not easily choose,' he says, 'to undertake so great a journey for this reason.'

The one who loves you together with me is Timothy.

For it was indeed possible to send others also; but no one is such a man as this.

So then, this is the mark of one likeminded: to love those who are being taught by him in the same way.

'Who,' he says, 'will genuinely care for the things concerning you.'

'For they all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ'—

that is, their own ease and being in safety.

This he says also when writing to Timothy.

But why does he lament these things? To instruct us who hear, that we may not fall into the same faults; to instruct those who hear, not to seek relaxation.

For the one who seeks relaxation seeks not the things of Christ, but his own.

For one must be prepared for every labor, for every hardship.

'But you know his proven worth,' he says, 'that as a child with a father, he served with me for the Gospel.'

'And that I do not say this without warrant, you yourselves,' he says, 'know that, as a child with a father, he served with me for the Gospel.'

Here he commends Timothy to them, with good reason, so that he may enjoy much honor from them.

This he does also when writing to the Corinthians, saying, 'Let no one despise him;'

'for he works the work of the Lord, as I also do.'

not caring for him alone, but for those who receive him, so that they might carry off a great reward.

'This one, then,' he says, 'I hope to send, as soon as I see how things go with me, immediately.'

That is, 'When I see in what state I stand, and what end my affairs will have.'

'But I trust in the Lord that I myself also shall come to you shortly.'

'I do not send him for this reason, as though I were not coming; but that I may be of good cheer, when I know the things concerning you, so that I may not be in ignorance even during the intervening time.'

'But I trust in the Lord,' he says;

that is, 'if God should will it.'

See how he makes everything depend upon God, and utters nothing out of his own reasoning.

'But I considered it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus, my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier.'

And this man too he sends with the same encomiums with which he sent Timothy.

For he commended the former on these two grounds: that he loves them, saying, 'Who will genuinely care for the things concerning you,' and that he had distinguished himself in the Gospel;

and this man too he praised on the same grounds, for the same reason as the former.

How so? For to call him 'brother' and 'fellow worker,' and not to stop there only, but to add 'fellow soldier' as well, is the mark of one showing his great partnership in dangers, and of one bearing the same testimony to him as to himself.

But the word 'fellow soldier' is more than 'fellow worker.'

For perhaps someone shared in the work in mere everyday matters, but in war and dangers no longer;

yet by saying 'fellow soldier,' he made this clear too.

'But your apostle,' he says, 'and minister to my need, to send to you.'

That is, 'I am bestowing on you what is your own.'

'Either we are sending you your own man, or the one who teaches you.'

Again he adds many things concerning his love, saying:

'Since he was longing after you all, and was distressed because you heard that he had been ill.'

For indeed he was sick, nearly to death;

'but God had mercy on him, and not on him alone, but also on me, that I might not have sorrow upon sorrow.'

And here he establishes yet another point, showing that he himself also knows very well, he says, that Epaphroditus is loved by them.

And this is no small thing for drawing them on to love him.

How so? 'He was sick,' he says, 'and you were grieved;'

'he recovered, and released you from the sorrow which you had on account of his sickness;'

'yet not even so was he free from sorrow, but he grieved, because after recovering he had not seen you.'

Here he establishes yet another thing, apologizing that it is only after a long time that he sends them to them: 'Not out of negligence,' he says, 'but I was keeping Timothy back because I had no other;'

'For I have no one likeminded,' he says;

'and Epaphroditus, on account of his sickness.'

Then, showing that this illness was long and consumed much time, he says:

'For indeed he was sick, nearly to death.'

Do you see how great earnestness Paul exercises to cut off from the minds of the disciples every pretext of negligence and indifference, and that he may not be suspected of having failed to come out of contempt for them? For nothing can so win over a disciple as being persuaded both that his leader cares for him, and that he is anxious on his behalf—which is the mark of surpassing love.

'You heard,' he says, 'that he was sick;'

'for indeed he was sick, nearly to death.'

'And that I am not making excuses, hear:'

What are you saying, O heretic? Here he calls it a mercy of God, that the one who was about to depart was held back and returned again.

And yet, if the world is an evil thing, this is no mercy—to leave one in that which is evil.

But against the heretic it is easy to speak; yet against the Christian what shall we say? For the same man will perhaps raise a doubt, and will say:

If to be dissolved and to be with Christ is far better, for what reason does he say that he was shown mercy? But I would rather ask this:

For what reason does the same man say that to remain in the flesh is more necessary for your sake? For just as that was necessary for him, so also is this—for one who is about to depart to God with greater riches and greater boldness of speech.

For that, even if it did not happen now, was going to happen later;

but to gain souls is no longer possible once we have departed thither.

Paul for the most part speaks according to the common custom of his hearers, and does not everywhere philosophize;

for his discourse was addressed to worldly men, who still feared death.

Then he shows in what great esteem Epaphroditus is with him, and by this makes him worthy of reverence, seeing that he says his salvation was so useful to himself that he too was shown mercy through him.

But in another way, even apart from this, the present life is a good thing;

since if it were not a good thing, why does he place untimely deaths in the rank of punishment? as when he says, 'For this cause many among you are weak and sickly, and a good number sleep.'

For the life to come is not better than what is evil—since it is not merely good—but better than what is beautiful and noble.

'That I might not have sorrow upon sorrow,' he says—the sorrow arising from his death added to that which had already come upon him through his sickness.

By these words he shows how highly he values Epaphroditus.

'I have therefore sent him the more eagerly.'

What is meant by 'the more eagerly'? That is: without delay, without postponement, with all haste, having bidden him set everything else aside and come to you, that he might be delivered from his distress.

For we do not rejoice so much at hearing that those we long for are in good health as when we actually see them—and especially when the matter turns out beyond our hopes;

which is precisely what then happened in the case of Epaphroditus.

'I have therefore sent him the more eagerly,' he says, 'that when you see him you may rejoice, and that I may be the less sorrowful.'

How 'the less sorrowful'? Because if you rejoice, then I too rejoice, and he too rejoices at such gladness, and so I shall be the less sorrowful.

And he did not say 'free from sorrow,' but 'the less sorrowful,' showing that his soul was never wholly apart from sorrow.

For he who says, 'Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?'—when was he ever apart from sorrow? It is as though he said:

This despondency I lay aside.

'Receive him therefore in the Lord with all gladness.'

'In the Lord'—that is, spiritually.

That is, with much earnestness;

or rather, the phrase 'in the Lord' means this: God so willing it.

Receive him in a manner worthy of the saints, and as it is fitting to receive the saints: 'with all gladness,' he says.

All this he does for the sake of those very people, not for the sake of those who are sent.

For the gain is greater to him who does the good than to him who receives it.

'And hold such in honour.'

That is: Receive him in a manner worthy of the saints.

'Because for the work of Christ he came near',

even unto death, not regarding his life, that he might supply what was lacking in your service toward me.

This man had been sent in common by the city of the Philippians, in order to minister to Paul, or perhaps he had also come bringing him some contribution.

For that he also brought money, he shows toward the end when he says:

'For having received from Epaphroditus the things that came from you.'

It is likely, then, that when he arrived at the city of the Romans, he found Paul in so great and severe a danger that not even those who came near him could do so in safety, but they too approached at peril;

which is wont to happen especially in great dangers, and in the excessive wrath of kings.

For when someone who has offended the king is cast into prison and is kept under close guard, then even to his own household servants approach is barred; which was probably what Paul was then suffering.

But Epaphroditus, being a noble man, despised every danger, so as to draw near and render service, and do all that was needful.

He therefore sets down two grounds on which he makes him worthy of reverence:

one, that he was in danger even unto death, he says, for my sake;

the second, that having taken upon himself the person of the city, he suffered these things—so that in that danger the reward might be reckoned to those who sent him, as though the city had sent an ambassador.

So that to receive him with attentive care, and to give thanks for what has been done, is rather to become partakers in the deeds of daring.

And he did not say 'for my sake,' but makes it more worthy of credit by saying that it was 'for the work of God.'

For it was not for my sake that he acted, but for the sake of God that he drew near even unto death.

For what of it? Even if he did not die, God so ordering it, yet he himself risked all and gave himself up, resolved that whatever he might have to suffer, he would not withdraw from his service toward me.

But if he gave himself up unto death in order to minister to Paul, much more would he have suffered this for the sake of the preaching;

or rather, this very thing—to die for Paul's sake—was itself for the sake of the preaching.

For it is not only by refusing to sacrifice to idols that one may bind on the crown of martyrdom, but such occasions also make a martyr;

and if one must say something marvellous, such occasions do so far more than those.

For he who braves death for the lesser cause will much more do so for the greater.

So that we also, when we see saints in dangers, let us risk ourselves for them.

For it is impossible for one who dares nothing ever to do any noble deed; rather, he who takes thought for his safety here below must of necessity fall away from that which is to come;

'That he might supply,' he says, 'what was lacking in your service toward me.'

What is this? The city was not present, but it ministered to me through him with all ministry, by sending him.

The lack, then, of your service he himself filled up, so that on this account also he would justly deserve to enjoy much honour, in that what all ought to have done, this he himself did on your behalf.

And he shows that ministry from those who are in safety toward those who are in danger is a primary duty;

for the phrase 'the lack of the service' is so spoken with reference to that ministry.

Do you see the apostolic spirit? This comes not from presumption, but from great solicitude.

For that they might not be lifted up, but keep moderation, nor think they had bestowed some great thing, but be humble, he calls the matter a 'service' and a 'lack.'

Let us therefore not be high-minded when we give to the saints, nor think that we bestow a favour on them in this;

for indeed the thing is owed by us to the saints, and we bestow no favour on them at all.

For just as to those who stand in the camp and fight, the taxes are owed by those who are at peace and do not fight (for it is on their behalf that these men stand), so also is it here.

For had Paul not been teaching, who would then have cast him into prison? So that we ought to minister to the saints.

For how is it not absurd that to the earthly king who goes to war one should contribute everything, both clothing and provisions, not according to

need only, but even according to abundance; while to the King who serves in the heavenly warfare, and who is arrayed against far more formidable foes ('For our wrestling,' he says, 'is not against blood and flesh'), one supplies not even the necessary need? Of how great thoughtlessness is this, of how great ingratitude, of how great niggardliness?

But, as it seems, the fear of men has more power with us than the fear of hell and of the punishments to come.

For this very reason all things have been overturned: because civic affairs are accomplished each day with great diligence, and cannot be neglected;

but of spiritual things there is nowhere any account taken;

but the things exacted by compulsion and by torments, and as from slaves and unwilling men, are paid down with much readiness;

but the things given by willing men, and as by free men, all fall short.

I say this not against all, but against those who neglect these dues.

For could not God have done these things by compulsion? But He does not will it;

for He spares you rather than those who are fed.

For this reason He does not will that you should pay by compulsion, since then there would be no reward.

And yet many of those here are lower than the Jews.

Consider how much the Jews used to give: tithes, firstfruits, tithes again, and yet other tithes, and again another thirteenth part, and the shekel;

and no one said that they were devouring much.

The more they receive, by so much also is the reward the greater.

I was not saying that they receive much and gorge themselves — the very things I now hear certain people saying.

And those who build houses and purchase fields think they possess nothing;

but if one of the priests puts on a somewhat finer garment, or is well supplied with necessary food, or has someone to serve him so that he is not forced to appear in an unseemly state, they reckon the matter to be riches.

Truly we are rich even in these things, and even against their will they confess it.

For we, even if we have but little, are rich;

but those men, even if they clothe themselves in everything, are poor.

How long shall we act so senselessly? Is it not enough for your punishment that you do nothing good, but must you also add the loss that comes from slander? For if you yourself gave him what he possesses, you have lost your reward by bringing accusation over the very things you gave;

and in any case, if you gave it, why do you bring accusation? Earlier, then, you were bearing witness to his poverty when you said that he had given away what he has;

why then do you accuse him? You ought not to have given, if indeed you meant to accuse.

But is it because another gave these things that you say this? The matter is harder still, that without even giving anything yourself you bring accusation over the good another does.

How great a reward do you suppose those who hear such things possess? For it is for God's sake that they suffer these things.

In what way and for what reason? It was open to them, had they so wished, to take up a trading life, even if they did not have it from their forefathers.

For indeed I hear many boldly saying even this, whenever we say that such-and-such a man is poor:

'For if he wanted to,' he says, 'he could be rich;'

then, insultingly: 'His forefather, and his grandfather, and such-and-such a man, was of such a sort;'

'but now he has clothed himself in such a garment.'

But what then? Tell me, ought he to have gone about naked? You, then, are scrupulously exacting about these things;

yet take heed that you do not say these things against yourself.

Rather, listen to the exhortation of Christ which says, 'Judge not, that you be not judged.'

But it was open to him, had he wished, to live a trading and mercantile life, and he would by no means have been in want;

what then does he gain here, tell me? Is he clothed in silken garments? Does he sweep through the marketplace with a throng of attendants? Is he borne upon a horse? Does he build houses, when he already has a place to lodge? If he does these things, then I too accuse him, and I do not spare him, but declare him unworthy of the priesthood.

For how will he be able to exhort others not to have busied themselves about these superfluous things, when he himself cannot so exhort his own self? But if it is because he is well supplied with necessary food that on this account he does wrong —

must he then have gone about and begged? And would you yourself, tell me — you, his disciple — not have been ashamed? But

if your fleshly father were to do this, you would regard the matter as a disgrace;

but if your spiritual father is compelled to do this, will you not hide your face? Nay, will you not even count it worthy to sink into the ground? 'A father's dishonour is a reproach to his children.'

But what then? Ought he to have perished by hunger? But neither is this the mark of a godly man.

But whenever we say these things to them, they at once turn philosophers;

'It is written,' he says, 'Do not acquire gold, nor silver, nor two tunics, nor money in your belts, nor staff.'

'But these men have three and four garments, and beds spread with coverings.'

It came upon me now to groan bitterly;

and had I not been about to appear unseemly, I would even have wept;

why so? Because we are such exacting scrutinizers concerning other people's specks, yet, having beams ourselves in our own eyes, we do not even perceive them.

Tell me, why do you not say this to yourself? 'Because it has been enjoined upon teachers only,' he says;

when, then, Paul says, 'Having food and covering, with these we shall be content,' does he speak to teachers alone? By no means, but to all men.

And this is clear to those who go through the passage from the beginning;

for having said, 'Godliness with contentment is great gain;'

then, 'We brought nothing into this world, and it is clear that neither can we carry anything out;'

'But having food and covering, with these we shall be content.'

'But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many senseless and hurtful lusts.'

You see that the word is spoken to all? And again? When he says once more, 'Make no provision for the flesh, to fulfil its lusts,' is he not simply addressing everyone? And what of when he says, 'Foods for the belly, and the belly for foods;'

'but God will do away with both the one and the other'? And what of when he says, speaking about a widow, 'But she who lives in wanton pleasure is dead while she lives'? Is the widow then also a teacher? Did he not himself say, 'I do not permit a woman to teach, nor to have authority over a man'? But if the widow — where even her age is aged —

for old age needs much care, and nature itself does too;

for the female sex needs more rest, being weak;

if then, where both age and nature are a hindrance, she is not permitted to live wantonly, but he even says that she is dead (for he did not simply say 'not to live wantonly,' but 'She who lives wantonly is dead while she lives';

for she who is dead is cut off) —

what pardon shall a man have who does these things, for which even an aged woman is punished? But no one even takes these things into consideration, no one examines them.

And I have now been compelled to say these things, not wishing to free the priests from accusations, but sparing you.

Those men, then, if they hear these things fittingly and justly, being thereby called to account, are in no way harmed by you;

but whether you speak or do not speak, they render an account to the Judge there;

so that your words do them no harm at all.

But if the things said by you are also false, those men indeed gain by being slandered without cause, while you thereby harm yourselves.

But in your own case it is not so;

rather, whether the things against them be true or false, by speaking ill of them you are harmed.

How so? For if they be true, even so you are harmed, by judging your teachers and overturning the order;

for if one ought not to judge a brother, much more a teacher;

but if they be false, the punishment and retribution are unbearable;

for you shall give an account for every idle word.

So that it is for your sake that we do and labour at everything.

But, as I said, no one examines these things, no one busies himself about these matters, no one says any of these things to himself.

Do you wish that I add yet other things? 'Unless one renounces,' says Christ, 'all his possessions, he is not worthy of me.'

What of when he says, 'Hardly shall a rich man enter into the kingdom of heaven'? And what of when he says, 'Woe

to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation'? No one examines this, no one considers it, no one reasons with himself, but all sit as vehement scrutinizers in the affairs of others.

But this is to make oneself a partaker in the very accusations.

But that I may, for your sakes, free the priests even from those very charges of which you say they are guilty, listen;

for to be persuaded concerning these men that they transgress the law of God is a great inclination toward evil.

Come then, let us examine those matters also;

Christ said, 'Do not acquire gold, nor silver, nor two tunics, nor sandals, nor belt, nor staff.'

What then, tell me? Was Peter acting contrary to the command? How could he not be, seeing that he had a belt and a garment and sandals? For that he had them, listen to the angel saying to him, 'Gird yourself and bind on your sandals;'

and yet there was not so great a need for these sandals;

for it is possible even to go unshod at that season, but the great need is in the winter;

And what of Paul? When, writing to Timothy, he says, 'Do thy diligence to come before winter';

then he goes on to charge him, saying:

'The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, bring with thee when thou comest, and the books, but especially the parchments';

and no one could say that he did not have another which he was wearing.

For if he were wearing none at all, it would have been pointless to command that this one be brought to him;

but if it was impossible for him not to be wearing one, it is plain that he had another.

And what of the fact that for two whole years he stayed in his own hired lodging? Did he, the chosen vessel of Christ, disobey — he who says:

'I live, yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me'? — he concerning whom Christ Himself testified, saying, 'This man is a chosen vessel unto Me'? It were fitting that this doubt should have remained with you unresolved, and that no solution should be brought to the question, but that you should pay this penalty for your neglect of the Scriptures;

for all these things arise from that source.

For this reason we are bitter examiners in the sins of others, yet make no account of our own — because we do not know the Scriptures, because we are not instructed in the divine laws.

It were fitting, then, that you should pay this penalty;

but what am I to do? I am a father;

fathers indulge their children in many things, even beyond what is proper, as their fatherly affections are warmed toward them;

and if they see the child downcast and pining away, they themselves are stung more than the child, and do not cease until they have removed the cause of its dejection.

Yet let even this come to pass; be downcast at not receiving, that you may receive rightly.

What, then, is to be said? They did not resist — far be it! — but rather followed most closely the commands of Christ;

for those commands were for a season, and not for all time.

And this I say not by conjecture, but from the divine Scriptures.

How? Luke says that Christ told the disciples, 'When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and girdle, and shoes, lacked ye anything?' They say to Him:

But what need was there, tell me, to have but one coat? What then? If this had to be washed, must he sit at home naked? Or go about naked and unseemly when need called? Consider what it would be for Paul — who after so many great achievements went about the world — to sit at home for want of a garment, and to be hindered in matters so weighty.

And what if a severe frost set in, and drenched him, or even froze him — how would it be possible to get dry? Must he again sit naked? And what if the cold gripped his body — must he waste away and not speak? For that their bodies were not fashioned of adamant, hear what he says concerning Timothy:

'Use a little wine for thy stomach's sake and thine often infirmities';

and again concerning another, 'I counted it necessary to send to you your apostle and minister to my need',

he was sick nigh unto death, but God had mercy on him;

and not on him only, but on me also.

So then, they were subject to all the sufferings of the flesh.

What then? Ought they to have perished? By no means.

Wherefore, then, did He at that time give this command? Because He wished to show His power — that He could still do so even afterward, but did not.

Wherefore, then, did He not do so? These men were far more admirable than the Israelites, whose shoes did not wear out, nor their garments, and that too while they traversed that wilderness where the sun's rays, falling more scorchingly, can burn up the very stones.

Wherefore, then, did He do this? For thy sake.

For since thou wast not to remain in health, but to be wounded, He provided thee with the occasion for thy remedies;

For tell me, could He not have fed them Himself? If He gave to thee who hadst offended, would He not much more have given to Paul? He who gave to the Israelites — the murmurers, the fornicators, the idolaters — would He not much more have granted it to Peter, who left all for His sake? He who suffered vile men to have it, would He not much more have shown favor to John, who left even his father for His sake? But He would not;

but through thee He feeds them, that thou mayest be sanctified.

And behold with me the surpassing greatness of His love toward mankind.

He chose that His own disciples should be brought low, that thou mightest have a little respite.

But if He had made them free from want, one says, they would have been far more admirable, far more glorious.

But then thy salvation would have been cut off.

He chose not, therefore, that they should become admirable, but rather that they should be brought low, that thou mightest be saved;

and He permitted them to be brought low, that thou mightest be able to be saved.

For a teacher who receives is not equally reverenced, but he is most honored who does not receive;

but the disciple is not benefited — rather, he is cut off from the fruit.

Dost thou see the wisdom of the God who loveth mankind? For just as He Himself sought not His own glory, nor regarded what was His own, but, being in glory, chose to be dishonored for thy sake, so also it is with the teachers;

though able to make them reverenced, He chose that they should be lightly esteemed for thy sake, that thou mightest have wherewithal to gain, that thou mightest have wherewithal to be enriched.

For that thou mightest abound in things spiritual, therefore he lacks in things of this life.

That He was able, then, to make them free from want, He showed by many things;

and that for thy sake He suffers them to be in want, this too is shown in like manner.

Knowing these things, then, let us turn not to accusations, but to good deeds;

let us not busy ourselves with the evils of others, but reckon up our own;

let us consider the good deeds of others, but reckon up our own sins;

and so shall we be well-pleasing to God.

For he who sees the sins of others and his own good deeds is doubly harmed;

for by the former he is lifted up into arrogance, and by the latter he falls into slothfulness.

For when he considers that so-and-so has sinned, he too will easily sin;

when he considers that he himself has done well, he easily grows arrogant.

But he who consigns his own good deeds to forgetfulness, and looks upon his sins alone, and busies himself not with the sins of others but with their good deeds, will gain much.

When he sees that so-and-so has done well, he is roused to the like zeal;

when he sees that he himself has sinned, he will be humble-minded and moderate.

If we do thus, and thus order our own affairs, we shall be able to attain the good things which have been promised, by the grace and love toward mankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.