At that time, Jesus spoke this parable to the Pharisees: A certain man made a great supper, and invited many. And he sent his servant at the hour of the supper to say to those who were invited that they should come, for now all things were ready. And they all with one accord began to make excuse. The first said to him: I have bought a farm, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray thee, hold me excused. And another said: I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray thee, hold me excused. And another said: I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. And the servant returning, told these things to his lord. Then the master of the house, being angry, said to his servant: Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and the feeble, and the blind and the lame. And the servant said:
Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. And the lord said to the servant: Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say unto you, that none of those men who were invited shall taste of my supper. There is this difference, dearest brethren, that is wont to lie between the delights of the body and those of the heart: that bodily delights, when they are not possessed, kindle a keen desire in us, but when possessed and consumed, at once turn the eater into disgust through satiety. On the contrary, spiritual delights, when not possessed, are held in disgust, but when possessed are held in desire; and they are the more hungered for by the one who eats them, the more they are consumed by the one who hungers. In the former the appetite pleases, but the experience displeases;
in the latter the appetite is held cheap, but the experience pleases the more. In the former the appetite begets satiety, and satiety begets disgust; but in the latter the appetite begets satiety, and satiety begets appetite. For spiritual delights increase desire in the mind even as they satisfy it, since the more their savour is perceived, the more it is known that they are to be loved with greater eagerness. And therefore, when they are not possessed, they cannot be loved, because their savour is unknown. For who can love what he does not know? Wherefore the Psalmist admonishes us, saying: Taste, and see that the Lord is sweet (Ps. XXXIII, 9). As if he plainly said: You do not know His sweetness, if you do not at all taste it.
But touch the food of life with the palate of your heart, that tasting its sweetness you may be able to love it. Now man lost these delights when he sinned in paradise (Gen. III, 6); he went forth, when he shut his mouth from the food of eternal sweetness. Whence we too, born into the hardship of this pilgrimage, come hither already loathing, and know not what we ought to desire; and the sickness of our loathing grows the greater, the more the soul is estranged from tasting that sweetness; and it now no longer craves inward delights, in that it has for a long and distant while lost the habit of eating them. Therefore we waste away in our loathing, and are worn out by the long plague of famine. And because we are unwilling to taste within the sweetness that is prepared, we wretched ones love our hunger outside.
But the mercy from on high does not forsake us even when we forsake it. For it recalls to the eyes of our memory those delights we have despised, and sets them before us; in the promise it shakes off our sluggishness, and invites us that we should thrust away our loathing. For it says: A certain man made a great supper, and invited many. Who is this man, but He of whom it is said through the Prophet: And He is a man, and who has known Him? (Jer. XVII, 9.) Who made a great supper, in that He prepared for us the satiety of inward sweetness. Who invited many, but few come, since sometimes those very persons who are subject to Him by faith withdraw themselves from His eternal banquet by living evilly. There follows:
And he sent his servant at the hour of the supper to say to those invited that they should come. What is the hour of the supper, but the end of the world? In which we assuredly are, as Paul long since testifies, saying: We are those upon whom the ends of the ages are come (1 Cor. X, 11). If, then, it is already the hour of the supper when we are called, we ought so much the less to excuse ourselves from the banquet of God, the nearer we perceive the end of the world to have drawn. For inasmuch as we reckon that nothing remains, the more ought we to dread lest that time of grace which is at hand should perish. And therefore this banquet of God is not called a dinner but a supper, because after dinner there remains a supper, but after the supper there truly remains no banquet at all.
And because the eternal banquet of God will be prepared for us at the last, it was fitting that this should be called not a dinner but a supper. But who is signified by this servant, who is sent by the master of the house to invite, but the order of preachers? Of which order, although we are still unworthy, although we are weighed down by the burden of our sins, we too are nevertheless in these days; and when I speak something to you concerning your edification, this is what I am doing, for I am the servant of the supreme master of the house. When I admonish you to contempt of the world, I come to invite you to the supper of God. Let no one despise me in this place on my own account. And if I appear in no way worthy to invite, yet great are the delights that I promise.
Often, my brethren, it is wont to happen, as I say, that a powerful person has a servant who is despised; and when through him he sends some reply to his own household or to strangers, the person of the speaking servant is not despised, because the reverence due to the sending master is preserved in the heart. Nor do those who hear consider through whom, but what or from whom they hear. So then, brethren, so conduct yourselves; and if perhaps you rightly despise us, yet in your mind preserve the reverence of the Lord who calls. As guests of the supreme master of the house, obey gladly. Examine your hearts, and drive out from them deadly loathing. For to repel your loathing all things are now ready. But if you are still carnal, perhaps you seek carnal feasts.
Behold, even those carnal feasts have been turned into spiritual nourishment for you. For to wipe away the loathing of your mind, at the Lord's supper that singular Lamb has been slain for you. But what are we doing, we who still see that which follows being done by many? And they all with one accord began to make excuse. God offers what ought to have been begged for; unbidden He wishes to give what could scarcely have been hoped for; because He deigns to bestow it when asked, He is despised; He announces the prepared delights of the eternal refreshment, and yet all alike make excuse. Let us set before the eyes of the mind the smallest things, that we may be able worthily to weigh the greater. If some powerful man sent to invite any poor person, what, brethren, I ask,
what would that poor man do, but rejoice at his own invitation, return a humble answer, change his garment, and hasten to go as quickly as possible, lest another arrive before him at the powerful man's banquet? A rich man, therefore, invites, and the poor man hastens to run; we are invited to the banquet of God, and we make excuse. But behold, amid these things I can guess what your hearts answer to themselves. For perhaps they say to themselves in hidden thoughts: We do not wish to make excuse, for we rejoice both to be called and to come to that banquet of the heavenly refreshment. Your minds, in saying such things to you, speak the truth, if they love not earthly things more than heavenly, if they are not occupied more with bodily than with spiritual things.
Whence here too the very cause of those making excuse is subjoined, when it is at once further added: The first said: I have bought a farm, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray thee, hold me excused. What is designated by a farm, but earthly substance? He, therefore, goes to see the farm who thinks only on outward things for the sake of substance. Another said: I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray thee, hold me excused. What do we take by the five yoke of oxen, but the five senses of the body? Which are rightly also called yokes, because they are doubled in each sex.
For the bodily senses, since they know not how to grasp inward things, but know only outward things, and forsaking things within, touch the things that are without — by them curiosity is rightly designated. Which, while it seeks to scrutinize another's life, always ignorant of its own inward self, is eager to think on outward matters. For grievous is the vice of curiosity, which, while it leads anyone's mind outward to investigate a neighbour's life, always hides from it its own inward self, so that knowing others' affairs, it knows not itself; and the curious soul, the more expert it becomes in another's merit, so much the more ignorant does it become of itself. For this reason too it is said concerning those same five yoke of oxen: I go to prove them; I pray thee, hold me excused.
For the very words of the one making excuse do not diverge from the signification of his vice, when he says: I go to prove them, since indeed proving sometimes belongs to curiosity. But it must be noted that both he who excuses himself from the supper of his inviter on account of the farm, and he who does so on account of the oxen to be proved, mingle in words of humility, saying: I pray thee, hold me excused. For while he says, I pray thee, and yet has despised to come, humility sounds in the voice, pride in the deed. And behold, every depraved person passes judgment on this when he hears it, and yet does not cease to do the very things he judges. For while we say to anyone acting perversely, 'Be converted, follow God, forsake the world' — what do we do to this man but call him to the Lord's supper? But when he answers:
'Pray for me, for I am a sinner, I cannot do this' — what does he do but both pray and excuse himself? For in saying, I am a sinner, he insinuates humility; but in adding, I cannot be converted, he displays pride. Praying, therefore, he makes excuse, who both brings in humility with his voice, and exercises pride in his deed. But another said: I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. What is understood by a wife, but the pleasure of the flesh? For although marriage is good, and appointed by divine providence for the propagation of offspring, yet some seek through it not the fruitfulness of progeny, but the desires of pleasure; and therefore an unjust thing can not unfittingly be signified by a just thing.
To the supper, therefore, of the eternal banquet the supreme master of the house invites; but while one is given over to avarice, another to curiosity, another to the pleasure of the flesh, assuredly the reprobate all alike make excuse. While earthly care occupies this one, and the shrewd thought of another's deed lays waste that one, and carnal pleasure defiles the mind of yet another, each loathing person does not hasten to the feast of eternal life. There follows: The servant returning told these things to his lord. Then the master of the house, being angry, said to his servant: Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and the feeble, and the blind and the lame. Behold, he who broods more than is just over earthly substance refuses to come to the Lord's supper;
he who sweats at the labour of curiosity loathes the prepared food of life; he who is a slave to carnal desires spurns the feasts of the spiritual banquet. Because, therefore, the proud refuse to come, the poor are chosen. Why is this? Because, according to Paul's word, God has chosen the weak things of the world, that He may confound the strong (1 Cor. I, 27). But it must be noted how those who are called to the supper and come are described: the poor and the feeble. They are called poor and feeble who in their own judgment are weak in their own eyes. For there are those who are as it were poor and yet strong, who even though set in poverty are proud. And the blind are those who have no light of understanding. The lame, too, are those who have not upright steps in their working.
But while the vices of character are signified by the weakness of members, it is surely plain that just as those were sinners who, being called, would not come, so these too are sinners who are invited and come. But the proud sinners are spurned, that the humble sinners may be chosen. These, therefore, God has chosen whom the world despises, because very often that very contempt recalls a man to himself. For he who left his father, and prodigally spent the portion of substance he had received, after he began to hunger, coming to himself, said: How many hired servants in my father's house abound with bread? (Luke XV, 17.) Far indeed had he departed from himself when he was sinning.
And had he not hungered, he would in no wise have returned to himself, because after he was in want of earthly things, then he began to consider what he had lost of spiritual things. The poor, therefore, and the feeble, the blind and the lame, are called, and they come, because the weak, and those despised in this world, very often hear the voice of God so much the more quickly, the more they have nowhere in this world to take delight. This is well signified by that Egyptian boy of the Amalekites (1 Kings XXX, 11, ff.), who, when the Amalekites were plundering and hurrying on, remained sick in the way, and was parched with hunger and thirst. Yet David found him, and gave him food and drink; and he, at once recovering, was made David's guide.
He found the Amalekites feasting, and with great strength laid low those who had abandoned him in his weakness. The Amalekite people, indeed, is interpreted 'the people that licks.' And what is designated by 'the licking people,' but the minds of worldly men? Which, by coveting all earthly things, as it were lick them, while they are delighted with temporal things alone. For as a licking people makes its prey, so those who love earthly things heap up their gains from others' losses. But the Egyptian boy is left sick in the way, because when any sinner begins to grow weak in the state of this world, he soon comes to be despised by worldly minds.
Yet David finds him, and gives him food and drink, because the Lord, mighty in hand, does not despise the outcasts of the world, and very often converts those who, being unable to follow the world, remain as it were in the way, to the grace of His love, and holds out to them the food and drink of His word; and He chooses them as guides for Himself in the way, in that He even makes them His own preachers. For when they have brought Christ into the hearts of sinners, they lead them as David over his enemies. And these, feasting like the Amalekites, they lay low as with David's sword, because by the Lord's power they overthrow all the proud who had despised them in the world.
The Egyptian boy, therefore, who had remained in the way, slays the Amalekites, because very often those very persons, by preaching, overcome the minds of worldly men — those who before were unable to run with worldly men in this world. But, the poor having been led to the supper, let us hear what the boy adds: Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. Great multitudes were gathered to the Lord's supper out of Judaea, but the multitude which believed out of the people of Israel did not fill the place of the heavenly banquet. The throng of the Jews has now entered, but there is still room vacant in the kingdom, where the multitude of the Gentiles ought to be received. Whence too it is said to the same servant: Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.
When the Lord invites some to the supper from the lanes and streets, He designates that people, namely, which had known how to hold the law under a civic manner of life; but when He indeed commands His guests to be gathered from the highways and hedges, He assuredly seeks to gather the rustic, that is, the Gentile people, of whose signification it is said through the Psalmist: Then shall all the trees of the woods exult before the face of the Lord, for He cometh (Ps. XCV, 13). For the trees of the wood were called the Gentiles, because in their unbelief they were ever twisted and unfruitful. Those, therefore, who were converted from that rustic manner, came to the Lord's supper as it were from the hedges. But it must be noted that in this third invitation it is not said, Invite, but, Compel to come in.
For some are called, and disdain to come; some are called and come; but of others it is by no means said that they are called, but they are compelled to enter. They are called and disdain to come, who indeed receive the gift of understanding, but do not follow that same understanding with works; they are called and come, who perfect by working the grace of understanding they have received; but some are so called that they are even compelled. For there are some who understand the good that ought to be done, but cease to do these things; they see what they ought to do, but do not follow these things out of desire. To these, as we said above, it very often happens that the adversity of this world strikes them in their carnal desires; they strive to grasp temporal glory, and cannot;
and while they propose to sail as it were through the deeps of the sea to the greater cares of this age, they are ever driven back by contrary winds to the shores of their own dejection. And when they perceive themselves broken in their desires, the world opposing them, they are reminded what they owe to their own Author concerning themselves, so that they return blushing to Him whom, swelling with pride, they had forsaken for love of the world. For often some who wish to advance to temporal glory either waste away with long sickness, or, afflicted with injuries, fall down, or, struck with grievous losses, are worn out, and in the sorrow of the world they see that they ought to have trusted nothing of its pleasure, and, reproaching themselves in their own desires, they convert their hearts to God.
Concerning these the Lord says through the prophet: Behold, I will hedge up thy way with thorns, and I will hedge it with a wall, and she shall not find her paths; and she shall follow after her lovers, and shall not overtake them; she shall seek them, and shall not find them; and she shall say: I will go and return to my former husband, for it was better with me then than now (Hosea II, 6, 7). The husband of each faithful soul is God, because it is joined to Him by faith. But that soul which had been joined to God follows after her lovers, when the mind which has now believed by faith yet again prostrates itself to unclean spirits, seeks the glory of the world by its working, is fed by carnal delight, and is nourished by sought-out pleasures.
But very often almighty God mercifully looks upon such a soul, and mingles bitterness with its pleasures. Whence He says: Behold, I will hedge up thy ways with thorns. For our ways are hedged with thorns, when in that which we wickedly desire we find the prickings of sorrows. And I will hedge them with a wall, and she shall not find her paths. Our ways are hedged with a wall when hard obstacles in this world resist our desires. And we cannot find our paths, because we are prevented from attaining what we wickedly seek. And she shall follow after her lovers, and shall not overtake them; she shall seek them, and shall not find them; because the soul which has subjected itself in its desires to the malign spirits by no means attains them to the accomplishment of its desires.
But how great a benefit is born from this wholesome adversity He adds, when it is subjoined: And she shall say: I will go and return to my former husband, for it was better with me then than now. After, therefore, she finds her ways hedged with thorns, after she cannot overtake her lovers, she returns to the love of her former husband; because very often, after we cannot obtain in this world what we wish, after we are wearied in earthly desires by their impossibility, then we bring God back to our mind, then He begins to please who displeased; and He whose precepts had been bitter to us suddenly grows sweet in memory; and the sinful soul which had tried to be an adulteress, yet could not by an open deed, resolves to be a faithful spouse.
Those, therefore, who, broken by the adversities of this world, return to the love of God, and are corrected from the desires of the present life — what are these, my brethren, but compelled to enter? But very fearful is the sentence which is at once subjoined. Receive it with the intent ear of the heart, my brethren and my lords: inasmuch as you are sinners, my brethren; inasmuch as you are just, my lords. Receive it with the intent ear, that you may feel it so much the less in the examination, the more fearfully you now hear it in the preaching. For He says: But I say unto you, that none of those men who were invited shall taste of my supper. Behold, He calls through Himself, He calls through angels, He calls through the fathers, He calls through the prophets, He calls through the apostles.
He calls through pastors, He calls even through us, He calls very often through miracles, He calls very often through scourges, He calls sometimes through the prosperities of this world, He calls sometimes through adversities. Let no one despise it, lest, when called he makes excuse, when he wishes to enter he be not able. Hear what Wisdom says through Solomon: Then shall they call upon me, and I will not hear; they shall rise early, and shall not find me (Prov. I, 28). Hence it is that the foolish virgins, coming late, cry out, saying: Lord, Lord, open to us (Matt. XXV, 11). But then it is said to them seeking entrance: Amen, amen, I say to you, I know you not (Ibid.). Amid these things, dearest brethren, what ought we to do but forsake all, set aside the cares of the world, and pant after eternal desires alone?
1462:30
Sedhaecpaucisdatasunt, ii. Admonerevosvoloutrelinquatisomnia, sednonpraesumo. Siergocunctamucidirelinquerenoapotestis, sictenetequaehujusmundisunt, uttamenpereanonteneaminiinmundo; utterrermrespoasideatur, nonpossideat; ut. submentisvestræsitdominioquodhabetis, Desimensvestraterrenarumrerumamorevincitur, arebussuisipsamagispossideatur. Sitergorestemporalisinusu, aeternaindesiderio; sitrestemporalisinitinere, desidereturaeternainperventione. Quasiexlatererespiciaturquidquidtinhocmundoagitur. Antenosautemtendantmentisoculi, dumtotaintentioneillaconspiciuntadquaepervenimus.
But these things are granted to few. I wish to admonish you to leave all things, but I do not presume. If, then, you cannot leave all the things of the world, so hold what belongs to this world that you may nevertheless not be held by them in the world; so that the earthly thing be possessed, not possess; that what you have be under the dominion of your mind. But if your mind is conquered by love of earthly things, it is itself rather possessed by its possessions. Let the temporal thing therefore be in use, the eternal in desire; let the temporal thing be for the journey, let the eternal be desired at the arrival. Let whatever is done in this world be looked upon as it were from the side. But let the eyes of the mind stretch before us, while with the whole intention they behold those things to which we come.
Let vices be rooted out utterly, torn away not only from the act of the deed, but also from the thought of the heart. Let not the pleasure of the flesh, not the solicitude of curiosity, not the heat of ambition, hinder us from the Lord's supper; but even those things which we do honourably in the world, let us touch as it were from a certain side of the mind, so that earthly things that please may so serve our body as in no wise to withstand the heart. Not, therefore, brethren, do we dare to tell you to leave all things; but yet, if you will, you may leave all things even while retaining them, if you so conduct temporal affairs that you nevertheless stretch with your whole mind toward the eternal. For hence the Apostle Paul says: The time is short:
it remaineth that they who have wives be as though they had none, and they that weep as though they wept not, and they that rejoice as though they rejoiced not, and they that buy as though they possessed not, and they that use this world as if they used it not; for the figure of this world passeth away (1 Cor. VII, 29, ff.). For he has a wife, but as though not having one, who so knows how to render the debts of the flesh that he is nevertheless not compelled through her to cling with his whole mind to the world. For since that same excellent preacher again says: He that hath a wife is solicitous for the things of this world, how he may please his wife (Ibid., 33) — that man has a wife as though he had one not, who so studies to please his spouse that he nevertheless does not displease his Creator.
He also weeps, but as though he wept not, who is so afflicted by temporal losses that he nevertheless ever consoles his mind with eternal gains. He rejoices indeed, but as though he rejoiced not, who so grows cheerful over temporal goods that he nevertheless ever considers the perpetual torments; and in that he lifts up his mind with joy, he presses it continually with the weight of provident fear. He buys, but as though not possessing, who both prepares earthly things for use, and yet foresees with careful thought that he will soon leave these behind.
He also uses the world, but as though he used it not, who both reduces all things necessary outwardly for the service of his life, and yet does not allow these same things to lord it over his mind, so that, being subject, they serve outwardly, and never break the intention of the soul as it stretches toward the heights. Whoever, therefore, are such, to them assuredly all earthly things are present not for desire, but for use, because they indeed use necessary things, but wish to have nothing with sin. From those very things possessed too they daily acquire rewards, and rejoice more in the good deed than in the good possession.
And lest these things should seem difficult to any, I report a matter concerning a person whom many of you have known — a matter which I myself learned three years ago in the city of Centumcellae from faithful persons. For recently in that same city there was Theophanius, a count (Dialogues, Book IV, ch. 27), a man given to acts of mercy, intent on good works, especially devoted to hospitality. Occupied with the business of the countship, he transacted earthly and temporal affairs; but, as afterwards became clear from his end, more from obligation than from intention. For when, as the time of his death drew near, a most grievous storm of weather stood in the way, so that he could not be carried out for burial, and when his wife, weeping most vehemently, kept asking, saying:
What shall I do? How shall I put thee forth for burial, I who cannot go out of the door of this house because of the excessive storm? Then he replied: Weep not, woman, for as soon as I am dead, the serenity of the weather will return. And death at once followed his voice, and serenity followed his death. His hands and feet, swollen with the humour of gout, had turned into wounds, and lay open with flowing matter. But when his body, according to custom, had been uncovered for washing, his hands and feet were found so sound as if they had never had anything of a wound at all. And so he was carried out and buried, and it seemed good to his wife that on the fourth day the marble which had been placed over his tomb should be changed.
When indeed that marble which had been placed over his body was removed, so great a fragrance of odour flowed forth from his body, as if aromatic spices had steamed forth in place of worms from his decaying flesh. These things, therefore, I have said, that by a near example I might be able to show that some both wear a secular habit and do not have a secular mind. Those, therefore, whom in the world necessity so binds that they cannot on every side be stripped from the world, ought so to hold the things of the world that they nevertheless know not how to succumb to them through a breaking of the mind. This, therefore, consider, and when you cannot leave all the things of the world, do the outward things well outwardly, but ardently within hasten toward the eternal.
Let there be nothing that retards the desire of your mind, let the delight of no thing in this world entangle you. If good is loved, let the mind be delighted in better goods, that is, in heavenly ones. If evil is feared, let eternal evils be set before the soul, so that while it beholds there to be both more that it may love and more that it may dread, here it may cling to nothing at all. For the doing of these things we have as Mediator of God and men our Helper, through whom we shall more swiftly obtain all things, if we burn toward Him with true love, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God, unto the ages of ages. Amen. At that time, Jesus said to the crowds:
If any man come to me, and hate not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, and moreover his own soul also, he cannot be my disciple. And whosoever doth not carry his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple. For which of you, having a mind to build a tower, doth not first sit down and reckon the charges that are necessary, whether he have wherewithal to finish it? lest, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that see it begin to mock him, saying: This man began to build, and was not able to finish?
Or what king, being about to go to make war against another king, does not first sit down and consider whether he is able, with ten thousand, to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? Otherwise, while the other is still far off, sending an embassy, he asks for those things that make for peace. So therefore everyone of you who does not renounce all that he possesses cannot be my disciple. If we consider, dearest brethren, what and how great are the things promised to us in heaven, all the things that are had on earth grow worthless to the soul. For earthly substance, when compared to the happiness above, is a weight, not a support. Temporal life, compared to eternal life, ought rather to be called death than life.
For what is that very daily failing of corruption other than a certain prolonging of death? But what tongue is able to tell, or what understanding to grasp, how great are the joys of that city above: to share in the choirs of angels, to stand with the most blessed spirits before the glory of the Creator, to behold the present countenance of God, to see the uncircumscribed light, to be touched by no fear of death, to rejoice in the gift of unending incorruption? But at these things heard, the soul is set ablaze, and already longs to stand there, where it hopes to rejoice without end. But great rewards cannot be reached except through great labors. Whence also Paul, that excellent preacher, says: He shall not be crowned except he strive lawfully (II Tim. II, 5).
Let the greatness of the rewards therefore delight the mind, but let not the contest of labors deter it. Whence to those coming to him the Truth says: If any man come to me and hate not his father and mother, and wife and children, and brothers and sisters, yea, and his own soul also, he cannot be my disciple. But it is fitting to ask how we are commanded to hate parents and those near to us in the flesh, we who are also bidden to love our enemies. And surely the Truth says of the wife: What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder (Matt. XIX, 6). And Paul says: Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church (Eph. V, 25). Behold, the disciple preaches that the wife is to be loved, while the master says: He who hates not his wife cannot be my disciple.
Does the judge announce one thing and the herald proclaim another? Or can we at the same time both hate and love? But if we weigh the force of the precept, we are able to do both by discernment: so that those who are joined to us by kinship of flesh, and whom we know as our neighbors, we may love; and those whom we suffer as adversaries on the way of God, we may not know, by hating and fleeing them. For he is as it were loved through hatred who, being carnally wise, is not heeded while he suggests wicked things to us. But that the Lord might show that this hatred toward one's neighbor proceeds not from lack of affection but from charity, he added immediately, saying: Yea, and his own soul also. And so we are commanded to hate our neighbors, and to hate our own soul as well.
It is therefore certain that by loving one ought to hate his neighbor, who so hates him as he does himself. For then indeed we rightly hate our own soul, when we do not consent to its carnal desires, when we break its appetite, when we resist its pleasures. Therefore that which, being scorned, is led to something better, is as it were loved through hatred. Thus, thus indeed ought we to show toward our neighbors the discernment of hatred, so that in them we may both love what they are, and hold in hatred that whereby they stand in our way on the road of God. Certainly, when Paul was going to Jerusalem, the prophet Agabus took his girdle, bound his own feet with it, and said: The man whose girdle this is, so shall they bind in Jerusalem (Acts XXI, 11). But what did he say who perfectly hated his own soul?
I am ready not only to be bound, but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts XXI, 13), nor do I count my soul more precious than myself (Acts XX, 24). Behold how, by loving his soul, he hated it, nay rather by hating he loved it, which he desired to hand over to death for Jesus, that he might raise it up to life from the death of sin. From this discernment of hatred of our own selves, therefore, let us draw the pattern for the hatred of our neighbor. Let anyone in this world be loved, even an adversary; but on the way of God, let not one who is contrary be loved, even a kinsman. For whoever now desires eternal things, in that upon which he sets out, God's cause
ought to be set apart from father, from mother, from wife, from children, from kindred, from his own self, so that he may all the more truly know God, in proportion as, for His cause, he acknowledges no one. For it is a great thing that carnal affections tear apart the intention of the mind and darken its keenness; yet we by no means suffer them to be harmful, if we hold them in subjection by suppressing them. Neighbors are therefore to be loved, charity is to be spent on all, both kindred and strangers; yet not on account of that same charity are we to be turned aside from the love of God. Now we know that when the ark of the Lord was returning from the land of the Philistines to the land of the Israelites, it was placed upon a cart, and cows were yoked to the cart, which are recorded to have been nursing, whose calves they had shut up at home.
And it is written: And the cows went straight along the way that leads to Beth-shemesh, and went along one road, going and lowing, and turned not aside either to the right hand or to the left (1 Kings VI, 12). What then do the cows signify but the faithful in the Church, who, while they consider the precepts of sacred discourse, as it were carry the Lord's ark placed upon them? Concerning whom this too is to be noted, that they are recorded to have been nursing; for there are very many who, placed inwardly on the way of God, are outwardly bound by carnal affections; but they do not turn aside from the straight road, who carry the ark of God in the mind. For behold, the cows go to Beth-shemesh. Now Beth-shemesh means 'house of the sun'; and the Prophet says:
But to you who fear the Lord shall the Sun of righteousness arise (Mal. IV, 2). If therefore we are pressing on to the dwelling of the eternal Sun, it is surely fitting that we turn not aside from the way of God on account of carnal affections. For with all our strength must this be weighed: that the cows, set beneath God's cart, press on and groan; they give lowings from their inmost parts, and yet turn not their steps aside from the way. So indeed ought God's preachers, so ought all the faithful within the holy Church to be, that they have compassion on their neighbors through charity, and yet do not stray from the way of God through compassion. But how this very hatred of the soul ought to be exercised, the Truth makes plain by adding these words:
He who does not bear his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For 'cross' is so named from the torment (cruciatus) of the Lord. And in two ways we bear the cross: either when we afflict the flesh through abstinence, or when through compassion for our neighbor we reckon his need to be our own. For he who displays grief at another's need bears the cross in his mind. But it is to be known that there are some who display abstinence of the flesh not for God, but for the glory of men. And there are very many who bestow compassion on their neighbor not spiritually but carnally, so that they favor him not toward virtue, but, as it were by pitying, toward his faults. These therefore seem indeed to bear the cross, but they do not follow the Lord. Whence rightly this same Truth says:
He who does not bear his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For to bear the cross and to go after the Lord is to display either abstinence of the flesh or compassion for one's neighbor out of zeal for an eternal purpose. For whoever displays these for a temporal purpose does indeed bear the cross, but refuses to go after the Lord. But because lofty precepts have been given, immediately a comparison of building a lofty structure is added, when it is said: For which of you, wishing to build a tower, does not first sit down and reckon the costs that are necessary, whether he has enough to finish it, lest, after he has laid the foundation and has not been able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying:
This man began to build and was not able to finish? Everything that we do we ought to anticipate by the zeal of consideration. For behold, according to the voice of the Truth, he who builds a tower first prepares the costs of the building. If therefore we desire to construct the tower of humility, we ought first to prepare ourselves against the adversities of this world. For herein does an earthly building differ from a heavenly one: that the earthly building is constructed by gathering expenses, but the heavenly building by scattering them. For the one we make expenditure that we may gather what we did not have; for the other we make expenditure that we may leave behind what we had. That rich man could not have these expenditures, who, possessing many possessions, questioned the Master, saying:
Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life (Matt. XIX, 16)? And when he had heard the precept of leaving all things, he went away sorrowful, and thereby was straitened in mind, whereby outwardly he was more broad in possession. For because in this life he loved the expenditures of loftiness, in pressing on toward the eternal fatherland he was unable to have the expenditures of humility. But it is to be considered what is said: All who see it begin to mock him; because, according to Paul's voice, We are made a spectacle to the world, to angels and to men (1 Cor. IV, 9). And in everything that we do we ought to consider our hidden adversaries, who ever press upon our works, ever rejoice at our failing. Beholding whom, the Prophet says:
My God, in thee I trust; let me not be put to shame, neither let my enemies deride me (Ps. XXV, 2, 3). For if, being intent on good works, we do not watchfully keep guard against the malignant spirits, we suffer as our mockers those very ones whom we have as persuaders to evil. But because a comparison has been given concerning the constructing of a building, now a similitude is added from the lesser to the greater, that from the smallest things the greater may be weighed. For it follows: Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? Otherwise, while the other is still far off, sending an embassy, he asks for the things that make for peace.
King comes against king on equal terms to battle, and yet, if he weighs that he cannot suffice, he sends an embassy and asks for the things that make for peace. With what tears, then, ought we to hope for pardon, we who at that dread examination do not come to judgment with our King on equal terms, whom indeed our condition, our weakness, and our cause set forth as inferiors? But perhaps we have already cut off the guilt of evil deeds, already we outwardly turn aside from all crooked things; are we then sufficient to render an account of our thought? For it is said that he comes with twenty thousand against whom this one who comes with ten thousand is by no means sufficient. For ten thousand to twenty thousand is single to double.
But we, even if we make much progress, scarcely keep our outward burdens in rectitude. For even if the luxury of the flesh has already been cut off, nevertheless it has not yet been utterly cut off from the heart. But he who comes as judge judges the outward things and the inward alike, weighs deeds and thoughts together. With a double army, therefore, he comes against the single, who examines us, scarcely prepared in deed alone, concerning both deed and thought together. What then is to be done, brethren, but that, while we perceive that we cannot suffice with a single army against his double, while he is still far off, we send an embassy and ask for the things that make for peace? For he is said to be far off, who is not yet seen as present through judgment.
Let us send to him as our embassy our tears, let us send the works of mercy, let us sacrifice on his altar the victims of propitiation. Let us acknowledge that we cannot contend with him in judgment; let us weigh the might of his strength, let us ask for the things that make for peace. This is our embassy, which appeases the coming King. Consider, brethren, how kind it is that he who by his coming is able to crush delays to come. Let us send to him, as we have said, our embassy, by weeping, by giving, by offering the sacred victims.
For in a singular way the victim of the sacred altar, offered with tears and with kindness of mind, avails for our absolution; because he who, rising again in himself from the dead, dies now no more, yet through this in his mystery suffers again for us. For as often as we offer to him the victim of his passion, so often do we renew for ourselves his passion unto our absolution. Many of you, dearest brethren, as I judge, it has befallen to know this which I wish to recall to your memory by narrating. It is reported to have happened not far from our own times, that a certain man, captured by enemies, was led far away (Book IV of the Dialogues, ch. 57); and when he was held long in chains, his wife, since she did not receive him back from that captivity, supposed him dead.
For him, as though now dead, she took care to offer victims on each single week. And his chains were loosed in captivity as often as victims had been offered by his wife for the absolution of his soul. For, returning after a long time, greatly marveling, he disclosed to his wife that on certain days, on each single week, his chains were loosed. And his wife, discussing those very days and hours, then recognized him to have been absolved at the very time when she remembered the sacrifice to have been offered for him. Hence therefore, dearest brethren, hence gather with sure consideration how much the sacred victim offered by us is able to loose within us the binding of the heart, if, offered by one person, it could loose in another the chains of the body.
Many of you, dearest brethren, knew Cassius, bishop of the city of Narni, whose custom it was to offer daily victims to God, so that scarcely any day of his life passed by on which he did not immolate a victim of propitiation to Almighty God (Book IV of the Dialogues, ch. 56). And with his sacrifice his life also greatly accorded. For, bestowing in alms all that he had, when he had come to the hour of offering the sacrifice, as though wholly dissolving in tears, he sacrificed himself with great contrition of heart. And his life and his death I came to know, related to me by a certain deacon of venerable life, who had been reared by him. For he said that on a certain night the Lord stood by his priest in a vision, saying: Go and say to the bishop:
Do what you do, work what you work; let not your foot cease, let not your hand cease; on the birthday of the apostles you shall come to me, and I will repay you your reward. The priest arose, but because the birthday of the apostles was near at hand, he was afraid to announce to the bishop the day of so near a departure. On another night the Lord returned, and vehemently rebuked his disobedience, and repeated the words of that same command. Then the priest arose to go, but again the weakness of his heart was made a hindrance to the revelation that was to be disclosed; and even at the admonition of the repeated command he grew hardened against going, and neglected to make manifest what he had seen.
But because greater wrath of vengeance is wont to follow contempt of great gentleness, the Lord, appearing in a third vision, now added blows to words, and he was so sacrificed with a severe beating that the wounds of the body softened in him the hardness of the heart. Instructed therefore by the beating, he arose and went on to the bishop, and found him now according to custom standing at the sepulcher of the blessed martyr Juvenal to offer the sacrifice; he asked for a place apart from the bystanders, and prostrated himself at his feet. And when the bishop could scarcely raise him, weeping copiously, up to himself, he strove to learn the causes of the tears.
But he, being about to relate the order of the vision, first, having rolled his garment down from his shoulders, uncovered the wounds of his body, witnesses, so to speak, of the truth and of his fault; he showed with how great severity of chastisement the blows received had furrowed his limbs, the bruise being inflicted. And as soon as the bishop saw this, he shuddered, and inquired with voices of great astonishment who had presumed to do such things to him. But he answered that he had endured these for the bishop's own sake. Wonder grew with terror; but the priest, no longer adding any delays to the bishop's inquiry, opened the secret of the revelation, and narrated to him the command of the Lord through the words which he had heard, saying:
Do what you do, work what you work; let not your hand cease, let not your foot cease; on the birthday of the apostles you shall come to me, and I will repay you your reward. Having heard these things, the bishop prostrated himself in prayer with great contrition of heart, and he who had come to offer the sacrifice at the third hour prolonged this, by the greatness of extended prayer, even to the ninth hour. And from that day the gains of piety were more and more increased for him; and he became as strong in work as he was certain of the reward, inasmuch as he had now begun to have as his debtor, from that promise, the very One of whom he himself had been in doubt. For this man the custom had been, every single year, to come to Rome on the birthday of the apostles;
and now, made suspicious by this revelation, he was unwilling to come according to his custom. At that same time therefore he was anxious; in the second year also and the third he was kept in suspense in expectation of his death, in the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth likewise. He might now have despaired of the truth of the revelation, had not the blows made the words credible. Behold, in the seventh year he came unharmed even to the sacred vigils of the awaited birthday; but a gentle heat touched him during the vigils, and on the very birthday, while his sons awaited him, he declined that he was able to fulfill the solemnities of the Mass.
But they, because they were likewise apprehensive concerning his departure, all came to him together, binding themselves unanimously that on that same day they would by no means consent to the celebration of the solemnities of the Mass, unless their same bishop should draw near as an intercessor for them before the Lord. Then he, being compelled, celebrated Mass in the oratory of the bishop's residence, and with his own hand bestowed the body of the Lord and the peace upon all. And when the whole ministry of the offered sacrifice was completed, he returned to his little bed, and lying there, while he perceived his priests and ministers standing round about, as though saying a last farewell, he admonished them concerning the keeping of the bond of charity, and preached with how great concord they ought to be united among themselves.
When suddenly, in the very midst of the words of his holy exhortation, he cried out with a terrible voice, saying: It is the hour. And soon he himself gave with his own hands to those standing by the linen cloth which, according to the custom of the dying, was to be stretched over his face. When it was stretched, he sent forth his spirit, and thus that holy soul, arriving at the eternal joys, was loosed from the corruption of the flesh. I ask, dearest brethren, whom did this man imitate in his death, but Him whom he had contemplated in his life? For saying, It is the hour, he departed from the body, because Jesus also, all things being accomplished, when he had said, It is finished, bowing his head, delivered up his spirit (John XIX, 30). What therefore the Lord did for him by power, this the servant did by calling.
Behold how great a peace of grace that embassy of the daily victim, sent with alms and tears, made with the coming King. Let him therefore leave all things who is able. But he who is not able to leave all things, while the King is still far off, let him send an embassy, let him offer the gifts of tears, of alms, of victims. For he wishes to be appeased by prayers, who knows that he cannot be borne when angry. That he still delays to come, he sustains the embassy of peace. For he would already have come if he wished, and would have slaughtered all his adversaries. But he both indicates how terrible he will come, and yet delays to come, because he does not wish to find those whom he would punish. He announces to us the guilt of our contempt, saying:
So therefore everyone of you who does not renounce all that he possesses cannot be my disciple; and yet he confers the remedy of hoped-for salvation, because he who cannot be borne through wrath wishes to be appeased through the embassy of requested peace. Wash therefore, dearest brethren, the stains of your sins with tears, wipe them away with alms, expiate them with sacred victims. Do not possess through desire the things which as yet through use you have by no means left behind. Fix your hope in the Redeemer alone, pass over in mind to the eternal fatherland. For if you now possess nothing in this world by loving it, then even by possessing all things you have left all things behind.
May he himself grant us the desired joys, who has bestowed on us the remedies of eternal peace, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. Amen. At that time, Jesus was speaking to the chief priests and Pharisees in parables, saying: The kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that was a king, who made a marriage for his son, and sent his servants to call them that were invited to the marriage, and they would not come. Again he sent other servants, saying: Tell them that were invited: Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my oxen and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready; come to the marriage. But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise;
but the rest seized his servants, and having treated them with insult, killed them. But when the king had heard it, he was angry; and having sent his armies, he destroyed those murderers and burned their city. Then he said to his servants: The marriage indeed is ready, but they that were invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the outlets of the highways, and whomsoever you shall find, call to the marriage. And his servants going forth into the ways gathered together all whom they found, both bad and good; and the marriage was filled with guests. But the king went in to see the guests; and he saw there a man not clothed with a wedding garment, and he said to him: Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? But he was silent. Then the king said to the ministers:
Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into the outer darkness. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen. The text of the Gospel reading, dearest brethren, I wish, if I can, to run through in brief, so that at its end I may be able to have more ample leisure for speaking. But it must first be asked whether this in Matthew is the very same reading which in Luke is described under the name of a supper (Luke XIV, 16, seq.). And indeed there are some things which seem to be discordant with each other, in that here a dinner, there a supper is mentioned; here he who entered the marriage in unworthy garments was cast out, there no one who is said to have entered is reported to have been cast out.
From which fact it is rightly gathered that both here by the marriage the present Church, and there by the supper the eternal and final banquet is designated; because the one, some who are to depart do enter, and the other, whoever has once entered will thereafter not go out. But if anyone should perhaps contend that this is the same reading, I think it better, with faith preserved, to yield to another's understanding than to be a slave to contentions; since it can perhaps also be fittingly understood that concerning the casting out of him who had not come with a wedding garment, what Luke passed over in silence Matthew has told.
But that by the one a supper, by the other a dinner is called, this too by no means stands in the way of our understanding; because since among the ancients a dinner used to be held at the ninth hour, that very dinner was also called a supper. But I remember having already often said that very frequently in the holy Gospel the present Church is called the kingdom of heaven. For the congregation of the just is called the kingdom of heaven. For because through the prophet the Lord says: Heaven is my seat (Isa. LXVI, 1); and Solomon says: The soul of the just is the seat of wisdom (Wis. VII, 27); Paul also says: Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God (1 Cor. I, 24);
we ought clearly to gather that if God is wisdom, and the soul of the just is the seat of wisdom, then, since heaven is called the seat of God, heaven therefore is the soul of the just. Hence through the Psalmist it is said concerning the holy preachers: The heavens declare the glory of God (Ps. XIX, 1). The kingdom of heaven therefore is the heavenly things of the just, because, while their hearts covet nothing on earth, through this—that they sigh after things above—the Lord already reigns in them as though in heavenly places. Let it therefore be said: The kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that was a king, who made a marriage for his son. Now your charity already understands who is this king, the father of the king's son: he, namely, to whom the Psalmist says: Give the king thy judgment, O God, and thy justice to the king's son (Ps. LXXII, 1).
Who made a marriage for his son. For then did God the Father make a marriage for God the Son, when he joined him in the womb of the Virgin to human nature, when he willed that he who was God before the ages should become man at the end of the ages. But because this joining is wont to be made from two persons, far be it from our understandings that we should believe the person of God and man, of our Redeemer Jesus Christ, to be united from two persons. For we say that he exists from two and in two natures; but that he was composed and united from two persons, as a wickedness, we shun. More openly therefore and more safely can it be said that in this the Father made a marriage for the King his Son, in that he joined to him the holy Church through the mystery of the incarnation.
But the womb of the Virgin Mother was the bridal chamber of this Bridegroom. Whence also the Psalmist says: In the sun he has set his tabernacle, and he himself, like a bridegroom coming forth from his bridal chamber (Ps. XIX, 5). Like a bridegroom indeed he came forth from his chamber, because, to join the Church to himself, God incarnate came forth from the incorrupt womb of the Virgin. He sent therefore his servants to invite friends to these nuptials. He sent once, he sent again, because he made preachers of the Lord's incarnation, first the prophets, and afterward the apostles. Twice therefore he sent servants to invite, because he foretold the incarnation of the Only-begotten through the prophets as about to be, and announced it through the apostles as having been done.
But because those who were first invited to the banquet of the nuptials would not come, in the second invitation it is now said: Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my oxen and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready. What in the oxen and fatlings, dearest brethren, do we take but the fathers of the New and Old Testament? For because I am speaking to the common people, I must needs also explain the very words of the Gospel reading. For we call things 'fatlings' that are fattened; for from that which is 'to nourish' (alere), we call fatlings (altilia) as it were 'nourished ones' (alitilia). But since it was written in the Law: Thou shalt love thy friend, and hate thy enemy (Matt. V, 43; Lev.
XIX, 18), it had then been permitted to the just that they might crush God's adversaries and their own with all the might they could, and slay them by the right of the sword. Which is without doubt restrained in the New Testament, when through his very self the Truth preaches, saying: Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you (Matt. V, 44). Who therefore are signified by the oxen but the fathers of the Old Testament? For while, by the permission of the Law, they had received that they might destroy their adversaries by the requital of hatred, what, so to speak, were they other than oxen, who struck their enemies with the horn of bodily strength?
But what is figured by the fatlings but the fathers of the New Testament, who, while they receive the grace of inner fatness, striving upward from earthly desires, are lifted up on the wings of their contemplation to sublime things? For to set one's thought in the lowest depths, what is it other than a certain greediness of the mind? But those who by the understanding of heavenly things are now fed through holy desires with the food of the innermost delight from things above, grow fat as though with more abundant nourishment. For with this fatness the Prophet had desired to be filled, when he said: Let my soul be filled as with marrow and fatness (Ps. LXIII, 5). Because therefore the preacher—
The messengers of the Lord's incarnation suffered persecution from unbelievers—first the prophets, and afterward the holy apostles. To those who were invited and yet were unwilling to come, it is said: 'My oxen and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready.' As if it were said more plainly: Behold the deaths of the fathers who went before you, and consider the remedies of your own life. It must be noted, moreover, that in the first invitation nothing is said of oxen and fatlings, but in the second the oxen and fatlings are now said to have been slain; because Almighty God, when we are unwilling to hear His words, adds examples, so that whatever we believe impossible may become the easier for us to hope for, in proportion as we hear that others have already passed through it. There follows:
'But they neglected it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise.' To go to the farm is to be immoderately bent upon earthly toil; to go to the merchandise is to gape after the gains of worldly dealings. For because one man, intent upon earthly labor, and another, given over to the actions of this world, disdains to ponder the mystery of the Lord's incarnation and to live according to it, he refuses to come to the king's wedding, as one hastening to his farm or his business. And very often—what is more grievous—some not only spurn the grace of Him who calls, but even persecute it. Whence it is also added: 'And the rest took his servants, and, having treated them shamefully, put them to death.'
'But when the king heard of it, he sent his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city.' He destroys the murderers, because He slays the persecutors. He burns their city with fire, because not only the souls of such men, but also the flesh in which they dwelt, is tormented in the eternal flame of Gehenna. And the king is said to have destroyed the murderers by sending his armies, because among men every judgment is executed through the angels. For what are those hosts of angels but the armies of our King? Whence this same King is also called the Lord of Sabaoth—for 'Sabaoth' is interpreted 'of armies.' To destroy His adversaries, therefore, He sends an army, because indeed the Lord executes His vengeance through the angels.
The power of this vengeance our fathers then heard of, but we now behold. For where are those proud persecutors of the martyrs? Where are those who lifted up the neck of their heart against their Creator, and swelled with the deadly glory of this world? Behold, the death of the martyrs now flourishes in those who live by faith, while those who gloried in their own cruelty against the martyrs by no means come to our remembrance, nor are counted even in the number of the dead. By facts, therefore, we come to know what we hear in parables. But He who sees Himself despised by the one He invites will not on that account leave the wedding of His Son's marriage empty. He sends to others, because although the word of God labors among some, yet at some time it is bound to find where it may rest. Whence it is also added: 'Then he said to his servants:'
'The wedding indeed is ready, but they that were invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the outlets of the highways, and whomsoever you shall find, call to the wedding.' If in Sacred Scripture we take 'ways' to mean actions, by the 'outlets of the ways' we understand the failings of actions, because those very often come easily to God whom no prosperity in earthly deeds has fostered. There follows: 'And his servants going forth into the ways gathered together all that they found, both bad and good, and the wedding was filled with guests.' Behold, by the very quality of the banqueters it is openly shown that by this royal wedding the present Church is signified, in which both the good and the bad come together.
For it is composed of a diversity of children, since though God begets all unto Himself, yet He does not bring them all through the change of life to the liberty of spiritual grace, their faults requiring it. For as long as we live here, we must needs pass along the way of the present world. But then we are distinguished, when we arrive. For the good alone are nowhere intermingled save in heaven, and the bad alone are nowhere save in hell. But this life, which is set between heaven and hell, as it stands midway, so it receives in common the citizens of both parties; whom nevertheless holy Church now indiscriminately admits, and afterward, at their departure, distinguishes.
If therefore you are good, so long as you abide in this life, bear patiently with the bad. For whoever does not endure the bad, by his very impatience bears witness against himself that he is not good. For he refuses to be Abel whom the malice of Cain does not train. Thus in the threshing of the floor the grains are pressed beneath the chaff; thus flowers spring up among thorns, and the rose that yields fragrance grows together with the thorn that pricks. The first man had two sons; but one of these was chosen, the other was reprobate. Noah's ark contained three sons; but two of these were elect, and one reprobate. Abraham had two sons; but one was chosen, the other reprobate. Isaac had two sons;
but one was chosen, the other reprobate. Jacob had twelve sons; but one of these was sold through innocence, while the others through malice were the sellers of their brother. Twelve apostles were chosen; but one among them was mingled in who would put them to the test, while eleven were those who would be proven. Seven deacons were ordained by the apostles; but while six remained in the right faith, one arose as the author of error. In this Church, therefore, neither can the bad be without the good, nor the good without the bad. Call to mind, then, dearest brethren, the times that are past, and strengthen yourselves to endure the bad.
For if we are the children of the elect, it necessarily remains that we should walk by their examples. For he was not good who refused to bear with the bad. Hence it is that blessed Job affirms concerning himself, saying: 'I was the brother of dragons, and the companion of ostriches.' Hence it is said through Solomon, in the voice of the Bridegroom, to holy Church: 'As the lily among thorns, so is my beloved among the daughters.' Hence the Lord says to Ezekiel: 'Son of man, unbelievers and subverters are with you, and you dwell among scorpions.' Hence Peter glorifies the life of blessed Lot, saying: 'And he delivered just Lot, oppressed by the injustice and lewd conversation of the wicked;'
1462:89
aspectuenimetauditujus-tuaerat, habitanstintereoaquidedieindiemanNmamjustaminiquisoperibuseruciabant ( IIPet. it 7, 8, aeg. ). HinePaulusdiscipulorumvitametlaudatetroboret, dicens: Inmedionationispravæetperversæ, interquoslucetissicutluminariainmando, berGamvitæcontinentes ( Philip. II, i 3 ). HineJoannesPergamiEcclesiæattestatur, dicens: Scioubihabitas, ubisedeseatSatanæ, ettenesnomenmeum, etnonnegastifidemmeam (Apoc. II, ł3). Ecce, fratrescharissimi < peneomniapercurrendocognoscimusquiabonusnonfuitquemmalorumpravitasnonprobavit.
'for in seeing and hearing he was just, dwelling among those who from day to day vexed the just soul with unrighteous deeds.' Hence Paul both praises and strengthens the life of his disciples, saying: 'In the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life.' Hence John bears witness to the Church of Pergamos, saying: 'I know where you dwell, where the seat of Satan is; and you hold fast my name, and have not denied my faith.' Behold, dearest brethren, running through nearly all these examples, we recognize that he was not good whom the wickedness of the bad did not prove.
For, that I may so speak, the iron of our soul is by no means brought to the fineness of its edge, unless the file of another's wickedness has worn it down. It ought not, however, to terrify you that in the Church there are many bad and few good, because the ark amid the waves of the flood, which bore the type of this Church, was both broad in its lower parts and narrow in its upper, and at its very summit even rose to the measure of a single cubit. For it is to be believed that below it had the quadrupeds and reptiles, but above the birds and men. There it was broad, where it held the beasts;
there narrow, where it preserved the men; because indeed holy Church is broad in carnal men, narrow in the spiritual. For where it tolerates the bestial manners of men, there it opens its bosom more widely. But where it has those who are upheld by spiritual reason, there indeed it is led up to the summit, yet, because they are few, it is narrowed. For broad is the way that leads to perdition, and many there are who go in by it; and narrow is the way that leads to life, and few there are who find it. And the ark is narrowed in its upper parts even until it is brought to the measure of a single cubit, because in holy Church the holier any are, the fewer they are.
And at the summit it is brought to Him who alone among men was born holy, without comparison with any other; who, according to the voice of the Psalmist, 'became as a solitary sparrow upon the housetop.' The bad, therefore, are so much the more to be tolerated, the more abundantly they abound, because even in the threshing of the floor few are the grains that are kept for the barns, while great are the heaps of chaff that are consumed by fire. But since now, by the Lord's bounty, you have entered the house of the wedding, that is, holy Church, look carefully, brethren, lest the entering King find something to reprove in the habit of your mind. For with great fear of heart must that be pondered which is straightway subjoined:
'And the king went in to see the guests, and he saw there a man who had not on a wedding garment.' What, dearest brethren, do we think is expressed by the wedding garment? For if we say that the wedding garment is baptism or faith, who without baptism and faith has entered this wedding? For by this very fact he is outside, because he has not yet believed. What then ought we to understand by the wedding garment, but charity? For he enters to the wedding, but comes not with the wedding garment, who, standing in holy Church, has faith, but has not charity. And rightly is charity called the wedding garment, because our Creator had this within Himself when He came to the wedding to unite the Church to Himself.
For it was by the love of God alone that His Only-begotten united to Himself the minds of the elect. Whence John also says: 'For God so loved the world, that He gave His Only-begotten Son for us.' He therefore who came to men through charity made known that this same charity is the wedding garment. Every one of you, then, who, being placed in the Church, has believed in God, has already entered to the wedding; but he comes not with the wedding garment, if he keeps not the grace of charity. And surely, brethren, if anyone were invited to a carnal wedding, he would change his garment, and would show by the very comeliness of his attire that he rejoices with the bridegroom and the bride, and would blush to appear in despised garments among those rejoicing and celebrating the feast.
We come to the wedding of God, and we neglect to change the garment of our heart. The angels rejoice together when the elect are taken up to heaven. With what mind, then, do we behold these spiritual festivities, we who have not the wedding garment, that is, charity, which alone makes us comely? It is to be known, moreover, that just as a garment is woven upon two beams, the upper namely and the lower, so charity is held in two precepts, that is, in the love of God and of neighbor. For it is written: 'You shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, and with your whole soul, and with your whole strength; and your neighbor as yourself.'
In which matter it is to be noted that in the love of neighbor a measure of love is set, when it is said: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself'; but the love of God is bound by no measure, when it is said: 'You shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, and with your whole soul, and with your whole strength.' For no one is commanded how much he should love, but from how much, when it is said: 'With your whole'—because he truly loves God who leaves nothing of himself to himself. These two precepts of charity, therefore, whoever cares to have the wedding garment at the wedding must needs keep. Hence it is that in Ezekiel the prophet, the vestibule of the gates of that city, set upon a mountain, is measured by two cubits.
Because indeed access to the heavenly city is not opened to us, if in this Church—which, for the reason that it is still without, is called a vestibule—the love both of God and of neighbor is not held. Hence it is that in the curtains of the tabernacle scarlet twice-dyed is commanded to be interwoven. You are, brethren, you are the curtains of the tabernacle, who by faith veil the heavenly secrets in your hearts. But in the curtains of the tabernacle scarlet twice-dyed ought to be present. For scarlet has the appearance of fire. And what is charity, but fire? But this charity ought to be twice-dyed, so that it may be dyed both by the love of God and by the love of neighbor.
For he who so loves God that through the contemplation of Him he neglects his neighbor, is indeed scarlet, but not twice-dyed. Again, he who so loves his neighbor that through love of him he abandons the contemplation of God, is scarlet, but not twice-dyed. That your charity, therefore, may be able to be twice-dyed scarlet, let it kindle itself both to the love of God and to the love of neighbor; so that it neither abandons the contemplation of God out of compassion for the neighbor, nor, clinging to the contemplation of God more than it ought, casts off compassion for the neighbor. Let every man, therefore, living among men, so pant after Him whom he desires, that yet he does not forsake the one with whom he was running; and so bring aid to this one, that he in no way grows sluggish toward Him to whom he was hastening.
It is also to be known that this same love of neighbor is subdivided into two precepts, as a certain wise man says: 'All that you hate to be done to you, see that you do not yourself do to another.' And through Himself Truth proclaims, saying: 'What you wish that men should do to you, do you also the same to them.' For if we both impart to others that which we rightly wish to be bestowed on us, and ourselves avoid doing to others that which we do not wish to be done to us, we keep the laws of charity unimpaired. But let no one, when he loves someone, straightway think that he has charity, unless he has first proved the very quality of his love. For if anyone loves someone, but loves him not for God's sake, he has not charity, but thinks that he has.
But charity is true when the friend is loved in God, and the enemy is loved for God's sake. For he loves for God's sake those whom he loves, who knows now to love even those by whom he is not loved. For charity is wont to be proved only by the adversity of hatred. Whence through Himself the Lord says: 'Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.' He therefore loves securely, who for God's sake loves him by whom he understands himself not to be loved. Great are these things, high are these things, and to many difficult to fulfill; but nevertheless this is the wedding garment. And whoever, reclining at the wedding, has not this, let him now anxiously fear, when the King enters, lest he be cast out. For behold, it is said:
'The king went in to the wedding to see the guests, and he saw there a man not clothed with a wedding garment.' We are they, dearest brethren, who recline at the wedding of the Word, who already have faith in the Church, who are fed at the banquet of Sacred Scripture, who rejoice that the Church is joined to God. Consider, I pray, whether you have come to this wedding with a wedding garment; examine your thoughts with anxious inquiry. Weigh your hearts in single matters: whether you now hold hatred against no one, whether you are kindled by no torch of envy against another's prosperity, whether through hidden malice you hasten to harm no one.
Behold, the king enters to the wedding, and contemplates the habit of our heart, and to him whom He finds not clothed with charity He straightway says in anger: 'Friend, how did you come in here, not having a wedding garment?' It is greatly to be wondered at, dearest brethren, that He both calls him friend and reprobates him, as if He said to him more plainly: 'Friend, and not friend'—friend by faith, but not friend by works. But he was silent, because—what cannot be said without groaning—in that severe rebuke of the last reproach every argument of excuse ceases, since indeed He rebukes from without who as a witness of conscience within accuses the soul.
But amid these things it is to be known that whoever has this garment of virtue, yet still has it not perfectly, ought not to despair of pardon at the entrance of the merciful King, because He Himself also, granting us hope, says through the Psalmist: 'Your eyes have seen my imperfect being, and in your book all shall be written.' But since we have said these few things for the consolation of him who has it and is infirm, let us now turn our words to him who does not have it at all. There follows: 'Then the king said to his ministers: Bind his hands and feet, and cast him into the exterior darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'
The feet and hands are then bound by the severity of the sentence of those who now refused to be bound from wicked works by the amendment of life. Or certainly the penalty then binds those whom fault now bound from good works. For the feet that neglect to visit the sick, the hands that bestow nothing on the needy, are already bound by their own will from good work. Whoever, therefore, now willingly binds himself in vice, is then bound unwillingly in punishment. And well is it said that he is cast into the exterior darkness. For we call the interior darkness the blindness of the heart, but the exterior darkness the eternal night of damnation.
Then, therefore, every condemned man is cast not into the interior but into the exterior darkness, because he who here willingly fell into the blindness of heart is there unwillingly cast into the night of damnation. Where also weeping and gnashing of teeth are declared to be, so that there the teeth may gnash which here rejoiced in gluttony; there the eyes may weep which here were busied with unlawful desires; so that each several member may lie subject to torment which here served, subject to each several vice. But when one is rejected—in whom, namely, the whole body of the wicked is expressed—a general sentence is straightway subjoined, in which it is said: 'For many are called, but few are chosen.'
Greatly to be dreaded, dearest brethren, is that which we have heard. Behold, we all, now called through faith, have come to the wedding of the heavenly kingdom; we both believe and confess the mystery of His incarnation, we partake of the banquet of the divine Word; but on the future day of judgment the King is about to enter. That we are called, we know; whether we are chosen, we know not. So much the more necessary is it, therefore, that each one of us abase himself in humility, the more he is ignorant whether he is chosen. For some do not even begin good things, but others persist not at all in the good things they have begun. One is seen to lead almost his whole life in wickedness, but toward the end of his life is recalled from his wickedness by the laments of strict penance;
another is seen to lead a chosen life, and yet it befalls him near the end of his life to decline into the wickedness of error. Another begins a good thing well, and consummates it better; another casts himself down in evil deeds from his earliest age, and in those same works is ever consummated worse than himself. So much the more anxiously, therefore, let each one fear for himself, the more he is ignorant of what remains, because—what must often be said, and retained without forgetting—'Many are called, but few are chosen.' But since sometimes the minds of hearers are converted more by the examples of the faithful than by the words of teachers, I wish to tell you something about one near at hand, which your hearts may hear the more fearfully, the more it sounds of what is close by.
For we do not speak of things done long ago, but we recall those things concerning which there are witnesses, and who report that they themselves were present at them. My father had three sisters, who were all three consecrated virgins: of whom one was called Tarsilla, another Gordiana, another Aemiliana. All were converted with one ardor, consecrated at one and the same time, and, living under strict rule, led a common life in their own house. And when they had long been in the same manner of life, Tarsilla and Aemiliana began by daily increases to grow up into the love of their Creator, and, though here they were in body alone, daily to pass over in mind to eternal things.
But on the contrary, the mind of Gordiana began to grow lukewarm from the warmth of inward love by the daily losses, and little by little to return to the love of this world. And often Tarsilla was wont to say to her sister Aemiliana with a great groan: 'I see that our sister Gordiana is not of our lot; for I perceive that she flows away outwardly, and does not guard the heart to that which she proposed.' Whom they took care to correct daily with gentle rebuke, and to reform from levity of manners to the gravity of their own habit. And she indeed would suddenly resume the countenance of gravity amid the words of correction, but when the hour of that correction had passed, the assumed gravity of honesty also straightway passed, and soon she would return to frivolous words.
She delighted in the society of lay maidens, and to her any person who was not given over to this world was very burdensome. But on a certain night, to this Tarsilla, my aunt—who among her sisters had grown up in the virtue of continual prayer, in zealous affliction, in singular abstinence, and, venerable for gravity of life, unto the honor and summit of sanctity—as she herself related, in a vision my forefather Felix, bishop of this Roman Church, appeared, and showed her a dwelling of perpetual brightness, saying: 'Come, for I receive you into this dwelling of light.' And she, soon after seized by a fever, came to her last day.
And just as, when noble men and women are dying, many gather who console their kinsfolk, so at the same hour of her departure many men and women stood around her bed, among whom my mother also was present; when suddenly, looking upward, she saw Jesus coming, and with great vehemence began to cry out to the bystanders, saying: 'Withdraw, withdraw, Jesus is coming.' And while she fixed her gaze on Him whom she beheld, that holy soul was loosed from the flesh; and so great a fragrance of wondrous odor was suddenly diffused, that this very sweetness showed to all that the Author of sweetness had come there.
And when her body was stripped, according to the custom of the dead, to be washed, upon her elbows and knees, from long practice of prayer, the skin was found to have grown hardened after the manner of camels; and the dead flesh bore witness to what her living spirit had ever done. But these things were done before the day of the Lord's Nativity. When this had passed, she soon appeared to her sister Aemiliana through a vision of nocturnal sight, saying: 'Come, for since I kept the Lord's Nativity without you, the holy day of Theophany I shall now keep together with you.' To whom she straightway, anxious for the salvation of her sister Gordiana, replied: 'And if I come alone, to whom do I leave our sister Gordiana?' To whom, as she affirmed, with a sad countenance she again said:
'Come, for our sister Gordiana has indeed been counted among the laywomen.' Which vision was soon followed by an affliction of the body, and so, as had been said, before the day of the Lord's Manifestation, the same affliction growing heavier, she died. But Gordiana, as soon as she found that she alone remained, her wickedness increased; and what before lay hidden in the desire of thought, this afterward she carried out in the effect of wicked deed. For, forgetful of the fear of the Lord, forgetful of shame and reverence, forgetful of her consecration, she afterward took as husband the steward of her own fields. Behold, all three were at first converted with one ardor, but they did not remain in one and the same zeal, because, according to the Lord's word, 'Many are called, but few are chosen.'
These things, therefore, I have said, lest anyone already placed in good work should attribute to himself the powers of good work, lest anyone should be confident of his own action; because although he already knows today what manner of man he is, he still knows not what he shall be tomorrow. Let no one, then, rejoice secure of his works already done, when he still, in the uncertainty of this life, is ignorant what end shall follow. But since I have related a matter which has terrified you out of the divine severity, I add yet another thing near at hand, which out of the divine mercy may console your terrified hearts; which nevertheless I remember that I have already told in another sermon, but you were by no means present.
Two years ago a certain brother came into my monastery, which is situated beside the church of the blessed martyrs John and Paul, for the sake of the monastic life; who, being long tried according to rule, was at length received. His brother followed him to the monastery, not from zeal for the monastic life, but from carnal affection. But he who had come for the monastic life pleased the brethren greatly; whereas, on the contrary, that brother of his was utterly at variance with his life and manners. Yet he lived in the monastery from necessity rather than from will. And though in all his acts he showed himself perverse, for his brother's sake he was patiently tolerated by all. For he was frivolous in speech, depraved in action, showy in dress, uncultured in morals;
but he could not bear it if anyone spoke to him about the conduct of the holy habit. His laughter, moreover, had become grievous in the sight of all the brethren, but nevertheless, as has been said, for the sake of his brother he was tolerable to all. He greatly scorned it if anyone spoke to him anything about the correction of his wickedness. Not only could he not do good, but he could not even hear of it. Never, by swearing, by growing angry, by mocking, would he grant that he would come to the habit of holy conduct. But in this pestilence, which lately consumed the population of this city in great part, being struck in the groin, he was brought to death.
And when he was drawing his last breath, the brethren gathered together, to protect his departure by praying; his body was already dead in its extreme parts, only in the breast alone did the vital warmth still breathe. But all the brethren began to pray for him the more earnestly, the more they saw him now departing with speed. When suddenly, while those same brethren stood by, he began to cry out with what effort he could, and to interrupt their prayers, saying: 'Withdraw, withdraw, behold I am given to a dragon to be devoured, who because of your presence cannot devour me. My head he has already swallowed up in his mouth; give place, that he may torment me no more, but may do what he is about to do.'
'If I am given to him to be devoured, why do I suffer delay because of you?' Then the brethren began to say to him: 'What is this that you speak, brother? Sign yourself with the sign of the holy cross.' He answered as he could, saying: 'I wish to sign myself, but I cannot, because I am pressed by the dragon.' And when the brethren heard this, prostrate on the earth with tears they began to pray more vehemently for his deliverance. And behold, suddenly the sick man, now improved, began to exult with what voices he could, saying: 'Thanks be to God! Behold, the dragon that had taken me to be devoured has fled; driven out by your prayers, he could not stand. Now intercede for my sins, because I am ready to be converted, and utterly to forsake the secular life.'
The man therefore who, as has already been said, had died in the extreme parts of his body, being reserved to life, was converted to God with his whole heart. Trained by long and continual scourges in that same manner of life, and a few days before, the affliction of numbness increasing, he died. He, now dying, saw not the dragon, because through the change of heart he had conquered him. Behold, my brethren, Gordiana, of whom I spoke above, fell from the excellence of the nun's habit to punishment, and this brother, of whom I have narrated these things, from the very article of death returned to eternal life. Let no one, therefore, know what is treated concerning himself in the hidden judgments of God; because 'Many are called, but few are chosen.'
Since, therefore, no one is certain concerning himself that he is among the elect, it remains that all should tremble, that all should be fearful about their own conduct, that all should rejoice in the divine mercy alone, and that no one should presume upon his own strength. There is One who perfects our confidence, namely He who deigned to take up our nature in Himself, Jesus Christ, who with the Father lives and reigns in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, throughout all the ages of ages. Amen.