羅馬書講道集 第 2 章

'First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is proclaimed throughout the whole world.'

Fitting to that blessed soul is this preface, and sufficient to teach all men to begin both their deeds and their good words with thanksgiving to God, and to give thanks not only for their own good things, but also for the good achievements of others—which both makes the soul clean of envy and jealousy, and draws God more mightily toward good will for those who give thanks.

'Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing.'

And we ought to give thanks not only when rich, but also when poor; not only when in health, but also when sick; not only when prospering, but also when enduring the very opposite.

For to give thanks when affairs are borne along with a fair wind is nothing wonderful;

but when the surge is great, and the vessel

is overturned and imperilled, then is there the great display of endurance and of a thankful heart.

For this very reason Job also was crowned from thence, and stopped the shameless mouth of the devil, and showed plainly that not even when he was in prosperity was he thankful on account of his riches, but on account of his great love toward God.

But observe also on what grounds he gives thanks;

not for things earthly and perishable, such as office and power and glory (for these are worth no account at all), but for things that are truly good, for faith and for boldness of speech.

And with how great affection he gives thanks;

for he did not say, 'To God,' but, 'To my God.'

which the prophets also do;

And what wonder if the prophets do so? For God Himself is seen to do this very thing continually in the case of His servants, calling Himself in a special manner the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob.

'Because your faith is proclaimed throughout the whole world.'

What then? Did all the earth hear of the faith of the Romans? Yes, all, from that city;

for it was no obscure city, but was as though lying upon a peak, and on every account conspicuous.

But do thou consider for me the power of the preaching, how in a short time, by means of tax-gatherers and fishermen, it laid hold of the very summit of the cities, and Syrian men became teachers and masters of the Romans.

Two good achievements, then, he testifies of them;

both that they believed, and that they believed with boldness, and with so great boldness as that the report concerning them took hold of all the earth.

'For your faith,' he says, 'is proclaimed throughout the whole world;'

the faith, not the disputes of words, nor the debatings, nor the syllogisms;

and yet there were many hindrances to the teaching there.

For having but lately received the empire of the world, they were high-minded, and lived in wealth and luxury; and fishermen brought them the preaching, Jews and of Jewish stock, of a nation hated and abominated among all men; and they were bidden to worship the Crucified One, Him who had been reared in Judaea;

and together with the doctrine, these teachers also proclaimed a rigorous way of life to men who had been schooled in luxury, and who were passionately set upon present things.

And they who proclaimed it were poor and of the common sort, of ignoble birth and from ignoble parentage.

But none of these things hindered the course of the word;

so great was the power of the Crucified One, that it carried the word round in every place.

'For it is proclaimed,' he says, 'throughout the whole world.'

And he did not say, 'It is made known,' but, 'It is proclaimed,' as though all men had them upon their lips.

Now to the Thessalonians, while testifying this, he adds yet another thing;

for having said, 'From you has sounded forth the word of God,' he added, 'so that we have no need to speak anything.'

For the disciples were placed in the rank of teachers, instructing all men by their boldness of speech, and drawing them to themselves.

For the preaching did not stand still anywhere, but, fiercer than fire, went over all the world.

But here he says only this much, that 'It is proclaimed.'

Well did he say, 'It is proclaimed,' showing that there was nothing to add to what had been said, nor to take away;

for this is the work of a messenger, to convey only the things that are spoken.

For this reason the priest also is called a messenger, because he announces not his own things, but the things of Him who sent him.

And yet Peter preached there; but he counts even that man's deeds as his own;

so, as I said before, he was, beyond all excess, clean of all envy.

'For God is my witness, whom I serve in my spirit in the Gospel of His Son.'

The words are those of an apostolic heart, the declaration is that of a father's tender care.

But what is it that he says, and on what account does he call God to witness? His discourse was concerning his inward disposition.

Since, then, he had not yet seen them, on this very account he called as witness none of men, but Him who enters into the hearts, Him he called to witness.

For since he had said, 'I love you,' and had made it a proof of this that he prayed for them continually and desired to come to them, and yet even this was not evident, he takes refuge in a trustworthy testimony.

Could any one of us boast that he remembers to pray in his home for the fullness of the Church? I think not.

But Paul drew near to God not on behalf of a single city, but on behalf of

the whole inhabited world; and this not once, nor twice, nor three times, but continually.

But to carry someone continually in one's remembrance could never come about except from great love.

To hold them in one's prayers, and to hold them unceasingly—consider how great a disposition and friendship this bespeaks.

And when he says, 'Whom I serve in my spirit, in the Gospel of His Son,' he shows us at once both the grace of God and his own humility;

the grace of God, in that He entrusted him with so great a task; and his own humility, in that he reckons the whole not to his own diligence, but to the help of the Spirit.

And the addition of 'the Gospel' indicates the kind of ministry.

For indeed the modes of ministry are many and diverse, and likewise those of divine service.

For just as in the case of kings all are ranked under the one who reigns, yet not all render the same service, but to one the ministry lies in commanding armies, to another in administering cities, and to yet another in guarding the moneys in the treasuries;

so also in spiritual matters, one serves and is a servant to God by believing and by ordering his own life well, another by undertaking the care of strangers, and another by taking in hand the protection of those in need;

just as also among the apostles themselves, those about Stephen served God in the care of the widows, while another served in the teaching of the word—among whom Paul also was, serving by proclaiming the preaching as good news;

and this was the manner of his service;

for to this he had been appointed.

For this reason he does not call God as witness only, but also states the very thing with which he was entrusted, showing that, having been put in charge of such great matters, he would never call the One who entrusted them to him as witness to falsehoods.

And along with this he wishes also to show that other thing—the love he bore toward them, and that his care for them was a necessary one.

For lest they should say, 'Who are you, and whence, that you say you are anxious for so great and most royal a city?'—he shows that such care was a necessary duty for him, seeing that this very mode of service had been laid upon him, namely, to announce the Gospel.

For he who has been entrusted with this is under necessity to have those who are to receive the word ever present in his mind.

And he indicates yet another thing besides these when he says, 'In my spirit';

namely, that this service is far higher than both the Greek and the Jewish forms of worship.

For the Greek worship is both erring and carnal;

while the Jewish, though true, is itself also carnal;

but that of the Church is contrary to the Greek, and higher than the Jewish by a great measure.

For our mode of worship is not through sheep and calves and smoke and the savour of burnt offerings, but through a spiritual soul;

which Christ also declared when He said:

'God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth.'

'In the Gospel of His Son.'

Having said above that the Gospel is the Father's, here he says that it is the Son's;

so indifferently may one speak of it as belonging both to the Father and to the Son.

For indeed he had learned from that blessed voice, that the things of the Father are the Son's, and the things of the Son are the Father's;

'For all Mine,' He says, 'are Thine, and Thine are Mine.'

'That without ceasing I make mention of you in my prayers.'

And he seems to say one thing, yet he sets down four things here: that he remembers them, that he does so without ceasing, that he does so in his prayers, and that it is for great matters.

'Making request, if by any means now at length I might have a prosperous journey by the will of God to come unto you.'

Do you see him both travailing to see them, yet not consenting to see them contrary to what seemed good to God, but holding his longing tempered with the fear of God? For he loved them and was eager to come to them;

yet not, because he loved them, did he wish to see them contrary to what seemed good to God.

This is genuine love—not as we, who fall away from the laws of love on both sides.

For either we love no one at all, or, whenever we do come to love, we love contrary to what seems good to God, doing wrong on both counts against the divine law.

But if these things, when spoken, are burdensome, they become yet more burdensome when they come to pass. (Homily 3)

And how do we love contrary to what seems good to God?

he asks. When we overlook Christ Himself wasting away with hunger, yet lavish upon our children and friends and kinsfolk more than their need requires.

Or rather, why need I carry the argument further? For if each one will examine his own conscience, he will find this taking place in many matters.

But that blessed man was not of this sort; rather, he knew both how to love, and to love as one ought, and as was fitting; and while surpassing all in loving, he did not overstep the measures of love.

Observe, then, how both these things overflowed in him to an extraordinary degree: both the fear of God and the longing for the Romans.

For to pray without ceasing, and not to desist even when he did not obtain his request, was the mark of a vehement love;

while to remain, though loving, yielding to the will of God, was the mark of an intense reverence.

In another place, indeed, having thrice besought the Lord, he not only did not receive, but even the contrary; yet not having received, he acknowledged great thankfulness for being unheard;

so completely did he look to God in all things.

But here he did indeed receive—yet not at the time he asked, but slowly; and on that account he was in no way vexed.

And I say these things, that we may not be distressed when we are not heard, or when we are heard slowly.

For we are not better than Paul, who in both cases confesses thankfulness;

for since once for all he had given himself over to the hand that governs all things, and had submitted with as great a submission as the clay yields to the potter, he followed wherever God led.

Having said, then, that he prayed to see them, he states also the reason for his desire.

And what is this? 'That I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end you may be established.'

For not idly, as many now make superfluous and profitless journeys, did he too travel, but for necessary and most pressing reasons;

and this he is unwilling to state plainly, but rather enigmatically.

For he did not say, 'That I may teach you,' 'that I may instruct you,' 'that I may supply what is lacking,' but 'That I may impart something,' showing that he does not give them what is his own, but shares what he himself received.

And here again he speaks with moderation, saying:

'Something small,' he says, 'and proportioned to my measure.'

And what then is this small thing which you are now about to impart? 'This,' he says, 'is: to the end you may be established.'

So then, this also is of grace—not to be shaken, but to stand firmly.

But when you hear of grace, do not suppose that the reward accruing from purpose of will is cast aside;

for he said 'grace,' not to dishonour the labour that springs from purpose, but to cut away the conceit that springs from senseless pride.

Do not, therefore, because Paul called it a gift of grace, grow slack.

For out of great thankfulness of heart he knows how to call even our right achievements gifts of grace, because in these too we have great need of the help from above.

And having said, 'to the end you may be established,' he indicated covertly that they stood in need of much correction.

For what he means to say is this:

'For a long time I have been desiring and praying to see you, for no other reason than that I might confirm you, and establish and fix you firmly in the fear of God, so that you might not be continually shaken.'

But in another and more restrained way he hints at the same thing;

for when he says, 'to the end you may be established,' this is what he makes plain.

Then, since this too was very burdensome, observe how he softens it by what he brings in afterward.

For what? Are we shaken, carried about, and in need of your tongue to stand firmly? Anticipating this, he removes such an objection beforehand, speaking thus:

'That is, that I may be comforted together with you through the mutual faith both of you and of me.'

'Do not suspect that I spoke it in accusation of you;

not with that intent did I utter the word; but what then is it that I wished to say? You have endured many afflictions, being deluged by your persecutors;'

'therefore I desired to see you, that I might comfort you—or rather, not that I might comfort you only, but that I myself also might receive comfort.'

He had said, 'to the end you may be established;'

he knows that what was said was heavy and burdensome to the disciples, and so he says, 'that you may be comforted.'

But this too was again burdensome—not so much as the former, yet burdensome nonetheless.

He therefore once again pares away what is burdensome even in this, smoothing his discourse on every side, and making it gentle.

For he did not say simply, 'to be comforted,' but 'to be comforted together'; nor was he content even with this, but he introduces yet another and fuller remedy, saying:

'Through the faith which is in one another, both yours and mine.'

Wonderful! How great his humility!

He showed that he himself also had need of them, and not merely that they had need of him.

And he seated the disciples in the rank of teachers, leaving no pre-eminence to remain with himself, but rather displaying much equality of honour.

'For the gain is common,' he says; 'and I too have need of the comfort that comes from you, and you of that which comes from me.'

And how does this come to pass? 'Through the faith which is in one another, both yours and mine.'

For just as with fire, if one gathers together many torches, he kindles a bright flame,

so too it is wont to happen in the case of the faithful.

For when we are torn apart and by ourselves, we are somehow more faint-hearted;

but when, seeing one another, we are entwined with our own members, we receive much comfort.

Do not, I pray, scrutinize the present time, in which, by the grace of God, in village and city, and in the very desert itself, there are many ranks of believers, and all impiety has been driven out; but consider that time, how great a good it was for the disciples to see a teacher, and for brethren to be seen by brethren who had come from another city.

And that I may make what I am saying yet clearer, let me bring the matter to an illustration.

For if it should ever come about and happen—which may it not!—that we were carried off into the land of the Persians, or of the Scythians, or of some other barbarians, and scattered two and three to those cities, and then suddenly one were to see someone come from here, consider how great a consolation we would reap.

Do you not see also those who are in prison, that if they see one of their acquaintances, they rise up and are as if given wings by the pleasure? But if I compare those times to captivity and to a prison, do not marvel;

for those men suffered things far more grievous than these, being scattered and driven about, living amid famine and wars, trembling at daily deaths, suspicious even of friends and household members and kinsmen, and dwelling in the inhabited world as though in a foreign land—nay rather, far more grievously than those who sojourn in a strange country.

For this very reason he says, 'that you may be established, and comforted together through the faith which is in one another.'

But he said this, not as though he himself stood in need of their assistance—far from it!—

for how could the pillar of the Church, harder than iron and rock, the spiritual adamant sufficient for ten thousand cities, have such need? But that he might not make his discourse overbearing, nor his rebuke too severe, he said that he too had need of the comfort which came from them.

But if anyone should here say that the 'comfort' and 'gladness' meant the increase in their faith, and that Paul had need of this, he would not even so miss the sense of the passage.

'If, then, you both desire,' says he, 'and pray, and are about to enjoy comfort and to impart comfort, what is it that hinders you from coming?' Loosing therefore this suspicion, he added:

'But I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that oftentimes I purposed to come to you, and was hindered until now.'

Behold the measures of a servant's obedience, and the demonstration of much good sense.

For that he was hindered, he tells us;

for he does not scrutinize the command of the Master, but only obeys.

And yet it would have been natural to be perplexed as to why God hindered a city so splendid and great—one to which the whole inhabited world looked—from enjoying such a teacher, and that for so long a time.

For he who had prevailed over the ruling city could easily proceed against those who were subject to it;

but he who left the more royal city aside, and lay in wait for the subject peoples, had the chief part neglected.

But nevertheless he pries into none of these things, but yields to the incomprehensibleness of God's providence, both displaying the well-attunedness of his own soul, and teaching us all never to demand from God an account of the things that come to pass, even though to many the things done may seem to cause disturbance.

For it belongs to the Master alone to command, but to servants to obey.

For this reason, that he was hindered, he tells us;

'Do not, then, ask me the counsel or the mind of God.'

'For the thing formed shall not say to him that formed it,

Why have you made me thus?' For to what end, tell me, do you also seek to learn? Do you not know that all things are His care, that He is wise, that He does nothing simply and at random? that He loves you more than those who begot you, and by far surpasses a father's tender affection and a mother's solicitude? Seek then nothing further, nor go on beyond;

for these things suffice you for consolation;

since at that time too the affairs of the Romans were wisely ordered.

But if you are ignorant of the manner, do not be vexed;

for this is above all the mark of faith—even while ignorant of the manner of the dispensation, to receive the doctrine concerning providence.

Having therefore accomplished what Paul was striving after (and what was this? To show that it was not out of contempt for them that he did not come, but that, though earnestly desiring it, he was hindered), and having put off the charge of negligence, and having persuaded them that he no less than they desired to see them—

Again, by other means as well he shows forth his love.

For, he says, it was not because I was hindered that I gave up the attempt; rather, I was ever attempting it, and ever being hindered, yet never desisting — neither resisting the will of God, nor letting go of my love.

For by his purposing to come and not desisting, he displayed his affection;

and by his being hindered and yet not striving against it, he made plain all his love toward God.

That I might have some fruit among you also.

And yet, even earlier he stated the reason for his longing, and showed it to be one befitting himself; nevertheless here too he sets it down, vehemently purging away their suspicion.

For since the city was renowned, and alone of all places on land and sea was such, and the mere desire to view it has been for many the occasion of a journey abroad —

so that they might not suppose some such thing about Paul too, nor suspect that it was merely out of a wish to make a show of his intimacy with them that he longed for a presence there, he repeatedly sets down the ground of his longing.

That I might impart to you some spiritual gift, he says, I longed to see you;

That I might have some fruit among you also, even as among the rest of the Gentiles.

He set the rulers alongside the ruled, and after the countless trophies and victories and the splendor of the consuls, he places them together with the barbarians;

for where there is the nobility of faith, there is no barbarian, no Greek, no stranger, no citizen, but all ascend to one and the same eminence of dignity.

And observe him here too keeping within measure.

For he did not say, That I might teach and instruct, but what? That I might have some fruit.

And not simply fruit, but, That I might have some fruit;

again lowering his own claims, just as he did above.

Then, restraining them too, as I said before, he says, Even as among the rest of the Gentiles.

For it is not because you are wealthy and have more than the others that I show less zeal toward the rest;

for we do not seek the rich, but the faithful.

Where now are the wise men of the Greeks, who trail their long beards, and are draped in their mantles, and puff themselves up with great pretensions? Greece, and all the barbarian world, the tentmaker converted.

But that Plato, who is paraded and carried about among them, though he came a third time to Sicily with all the pomp of those phrases of his, with his brilliant reputation, did not get the better of even one tyrant, but so wretchedly came off that he even lost his very freedom.

But this tentmaker overran not Sicily only, nor Italy only, but the whole inhabited world; and not even while preaching did he desist from his trade, but even then he stitched hides and presided over a workshop;

and not even this gave offense to men of consular rank;

for it is not the crafts and occupations, but falsehood and fabricated doctrines, that are wont to make teachers contemptible.

For this very reason even the Athenians now laugh those men to scorn;

but to this man even barbarians and the unlearned and the untutored give heed.

For the preaching is set forth in common to all;

it knows no distinction of rank, no pre-eminence of nation, nor any other such thing.

for it requires faith alone, not reasonings.

Therefore is it especially worthy of admiration, not only that it is profitable and saving, but that it is also easy and most simple, and readily grasped by all;

which indeed is above all the work of God's providence, that He sets forth in common to all men the things that are His own.

For that which He did in the case of the sun and moon and earth and sea and the rest — not imparting to the rich and wise a larger share of the supply from these, and less to the poor, but setting the same enjoyment before all — this He wrought also in the case of the preaching, and much more so, inasmuch as this is more necessary than those things.

Therefore also Paul says continually:

Then, showing them that he is bestowing no favor upon them, but is fulfilling a command laid on him by his Master, and referring them to thanksgiving to the God of all, he says:

I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the unwise.

Which also he said when writing to the Corinthians.

And he says this, ascribing the whole to God.

So, as much as in me lies, I am ready to preach the gospel to you also that are in Rome.

having taken upon himself an undertaking full of so many perils — a voyage across the sea, temptations, plots, insurrections (for it was to be expected that one about to address so great a city, tyrannized over by impiety, should endure snowstorms of trials);

so indeed he also ended his life in this very city, being beheaded by the one who then held tyrannical power.

Yet though he expected to endure so many hardships, he grew no more reluctant on account of any of them, but rather pressed forward, and travailed as in birth-pains, and was eager.

'So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you also that are at Rome.'

'For I am not ashamed of the gospel.'

What are you saying, O Paul? When you ought to have said, 'I even glory, and take pride, and exult in it,' you do not say this, but the lesser thing than this, namely, that you are 'not ashamed';

which is not what we are accustomed to say concerning things exceedingly glorious.

What then is it that he means? And why does he speak thus, seeing that he exults in it even more than in heaven itself? At any rate, when writing to the Galatians he said:

'But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.'

Why then does he not here say, 'I even glory,' but rather, 'I am not ashamed'? The Romans were exceedingly captivated by the things of this world, on account of their wealth, on account of their empire, on account of their victories and their kings;

for they esteemed these men as equal to gods.

Indeed, that is even what they called them.

For this very reason they even paid them homage with temples and altars and sacrifices.

Since, then, they were thus puffed up, and Paul was about to preach Jesus, who was reputed to be the carpenter's son, who was brought up in Judea and in the house of a lowly woman, who had no bodyguards, who was clothed in no riches, but who moreover died like a condemned criminal among robbers, and endured many other inglorious things, it was likely that they would hide their faces for shame, since as yet they knew nothing of the ineffable and great mysteries;

for this reason he says, 'I am not ashamed,' teaching them for the time being not to be ashamed;

for he knew that, if they succeeded in this, they would quickly advance and come even to the point of glorying in it.

You too, therefore, if you should hear someone saying:

'Do you worship the Crucified One?'—be not ashamed, nor look down, but rather take pride and adorn yourself, and with free eyes and lifted countenance receive the confession.

'Do you worship the Crucified One?' Say again in reply to him:

'Yes, but not the adulterer, nor the parricide, nor the slayer of children (for such are all their gods), but the One who by the cross muzzled the demons and destroyed their countless sorceries.'

For indeed the cross is for our sake the work of ineffable loving-kindness, the token of great and tender care.

In addition to what has been said, since they were greatly boastful in speech and puffed up, being clothed with the wisdom that is from without, 'I,' he says, 'having bidden a long farewell to these syllogisms, come preaching the cross, and I am not on that account ashamed.'

'For it is the power of God unto salvation.'

For since there is also a power of God unto punishment (for indeed when He punished the Egyptians, He said:

'This is my great power'), and

a power unto destruction ('For fear Him,' He says, 'who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell')—

'It is not these things that I come bringing, not the things concerning punishment and vengeance, but the things concerning salvation.'

What then? Did not the Gospel also proclaim these things—the word concerning hell, concerning the outer darkness and the venomous worm? And indeed it is from nowhere else than from the Gospel that we came to know these things;

how then, he asks, is it 'the power of God unto salvation'? But hear also what follows:

'To every one that believes; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.'

For it is not simply to all, but to those who receive it.

For even if you be a Greek, and one who has run through every kind of wickedness, even if a Scythian, even if a barbarian, even if a very wild beast, even if full of all irrationality and laden with countless burdens of sins, no sooner did you receive the word concerning the cross and were baptized, than you wiped out all those things.

But why does he here say, 'to the Jew first, and also to the Greek'? What does this distinction mean? And yet in many places he said that neither is circumcision anything, nor uncircumcision;

how then does he here make a distinction, setting the Jew before the Greek? And what of it? For it is not, because the Jew is first, that he therefore also receives more of the grace;

for the same gift is given both to this one and to that one;

but being 'first' is merely an honor of order.

For he does not have the advantage in receiving a greater righteousness, but he is honored only in receiving it first;

since even in the case of those being enlightened (and you initiates know what is meant), all indeed run to baptism, but not all at the same hour, but one first and another second;

yet the first does not receive more than the second, nor that one more than the one after him, but all enjoy the same things.

Therefore the word 'first' is here an honor of expression, not an abundance of grace.

Then, having said, 'unto salvation,' he again magnifies the gift, showing that it does not stand still at the present time, but goes on further beyond;

for this is what he made plain when he said:

For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith, as it is written:

But the just shall live by faith.

He, then, who has become just shall live, not according to the present life only, but also according to the life to come.

And not this alone, but along with it he hints also at something further, namely the brightness and conspicuous splendour of such a life.

For since it is possible to be saved even with shame (just as many of those who are released from punishment by the king's clemency are indeed saved, yet with disgrace), lest anyone, on hearing of salvation, should suspect this to be the case here, he added, 'and righteousness'—and a righteousness not your own, but of God—hinting thereby at its lavish abundance and its ease.

For you do not achieve it by sweat and toil, but you receive it from the gift that comes from above, contributing one thing only from yourself—to believe.

Then, since the statement seemed incredible—that the adulterer and the effeminate, the tomb-robber and the sorcerer, should all at once not only be freed from punishment, but even become just, and just with the very highest righteousness—he confirms the word from the Old Testament.

And first, in a brief phrase he opens up, to him who is able to see, an immeasurable ocean of histories.

For having said, 'From faith to faith,' he sent his hearer back to the dispensations of God that took place in the Old Testament, which, in writing to the Hebrews, he expounds with much wisdom, showing that both the just and the sinners were justified in that same manner even then.

Wherefore he made mention both of Rahab and of Abraham.

Then, having here merely hinted at it (for he was hastening on to another consideration, and a pressing one), he again confirms the word from the prophets, bringing forward Habakkuk into the midst, crying aloud and saying that there is no other way for him who is to live to live, except through faith.

For 'the just,' says he, 'shall live by faith,' speaking of the life to come.

For since all that God bestows transcends every calculation of reason, we naturally have need of faith.

But the man who is presumptuous and scornful and boastful shall accomplish nothing whatever.

Let the heretics give ear to the voice of the Spirit.

For such is the nature of mere reasonings:

it resembles a kind of labyrinth and riddles, having nowhere any end, nor allowing the reasoning to stand firm upon the rock, and having its origin in arrogance.

For being ashamed to accept faith, and to appear ignorant of heavenly things,

they cast themselves into a dust-cloud of ten thousand reasonings.

Then, O wretched and miserable man, worthy of ten thousand tears, if someone asks you how the heaven came to be, and how the earth,

why do I speak of heaven and earth? how you yourself were born, how you were nourished and grew—are you not ashamed of your ignorance? Yet if any discourse arise concerning the Only-begotten, through very shame you cast yourself into an abyss of destruction, deeming it unworthy of yourself not to know all things. And indeed, contentiousness is unworthy, and to busy oneself with idle curiosity out of season.

And why do I speak of doctrines? For from the very wickedness that belongs to the present life we have been delivered from no other source whatever, but only through faith.

Thus also all who lived before him shone forth: thus Abraham, thus Isaac, thus Jacob;

thus too the harlot was saved—both she in the Old Testament and she in the New.

For 'by faith,' he says, 'Rahab the harlot perished not with them that believed not, when she had received the spies.'

And how could these men, being captives and fugitives and wanderers, and living the life of nomads, prevail over us who have a city and walls and towers? For had she said this to herself, she would have destroyed both herself and them along with her;

which very thing indeed the forefathers of those who were then saved suffered.

For they, since on seeing men great and of lofty stature they sought out the manner of victory, perished, all of them, without war and without battle-array.

Do you see how great is the abyss of unbelief, and how great the rampart of faith? For the one brought down countless thousands;

but the other not only preserved a harlot woman, but even made her the protectress of so great a people.

Knowing these things, then, and more than these, let us never demand of God an accounting for the things that come to pass, but whatever He may enjoin, let us accept it;

and let us not be over-curious nor busy ourselves with idle inquiry, even if what is commanded should seem, to human reasonings, to be absurd.

For what, tell me, could seem more absurd than to slay one's only-begotten and true-born son—the very one who begot him being the slayer? Yet nevertheless the just man, when he was commanded, did not busy himself with questioning this, but from the worthiness of Him who commanded accepted the injunction alone, and obeyed.

And another too, when commanded by God to smite a prophet, since he busied himself with the seeming absurdity of the matter and did not simply obey, paid the uttermost penalty;

And Saul too, having spared men contrary to what seemed good to God, fell from his kingdom and suffered irreparable things.

And one might find many other examples besides these, through all of which we are instructed never to demand a reason for the commands of God, but only to yield and to obey.

But if to pry into whatever He may command is perilous, and the uttermost punishment lies in store for those who busy themselves with idle inquiry,

then what defence will they ever have who busy themselves with things far more unspeakable and dreadful than these—that is, how He begot the Son, and in what manner, and what is the essence? Knowing these things, then, let us with all goodwill welcome faith, the mother of all good things, that, sailing as it were in a calm harbour, we may both keep the right doctrines and, directing our life with security, may attain the eternal good things, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father be glory, might, honour, and worship, together with the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages.