Since St. Maximus was recognized as the author of the homily just published, anyone may recognize, if he gives heed, from the similar manner of writing and the connection of the matter, that this one too was composed by the same man. And the very same codices support it which handed down the former to posterity under the name of St. Maximus; namely the Sangallensis no. 29, the Ambrosianus, and no. 90 of Holy Cross in Jerusalem, page 277. We have already said that the homily first drawn from the Sangallensis codex by Mabillon was published as no. 6 in the Museum Italicum; in whose preface we noted that this one, like the other set above, rests on the testimony of Gennadius, since he said that Maximus wrote On the Eclipse of the Moon.
Gallandius too transferred this into his collection, as he did the rest of the Museum Italicum; but without consulting the Ambrosian codex, from which we have received many variant readings and have appended them to Mabillon's text. Some days ago, brethren, we set forth against those who thought that the moon could be drawn down from heaven by the incantations of magicians; and we beat back the folly of those who suffer no less an eclipse of mind than the moon suffers of light. And we exhorted them that, laying aside the pagan error, they should return to wisdom as quickly as the moon returns to its fullness: and just as it swiftly gathers again the light it had lost, so these same men should hastily recover the faith they have denied;
and, having laid aside the cloud of folly, they should begin to estimate the light no longer with the eye of the body but of the mind; and understand that its rising and its eclipse subsist by reason rather than by weakness—reason which would never give so great a change to all things, unless this reason had been bestowed upon it by the Creator. Behold, the element of the sea, when the moon wanes, is drawn back; when it waxes, it is heaped up: so that at its motion either the waves withdraw into themselves, or the tides do not contain themselves; so that as often as the moon changes in light, so often do the seas change in their surges. In short, the very swimming creatures of the sea are said to be fuller in their flesh when the moon is full, and drained and diminished when it wanes.
Great, therefore, is the reason of the moon, and great its excellence, which by its power so diminishes the elements that it fills them again; so fills them that they are once more diminished. Namely, that by certain alternating turns the change may be welcome, while the renewal is made complete. And how great an increase it bestows upon the lands is known to all, with how great a dew it refreshes the woodlands which the sun's heat had scorched in the daytime hours, and by a certain wonder furnishes moisture with serenity to things burning with heat. For by a new kind of thing, when the moon illumines, its serenity makes the earth moist. Great, then, is the reason of the moon, nay, a great mystery. It empties itself of light, that it may refresh all things with moisture and rain.
So also Christ the Lord emptied himself of divinity, that he might fill men with immortality. Whence the blessed Apostle says: Who, though he was established in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant (Philippians 2). Christ, therefore, emptied himself, that he might bestow life upon men: he evacuated himself, that he might grant advancement to the elements. But we read of the Saviour that he is rather the sun of righteousness. How, then, do we compare him with the motions of the moon? These luminaries agree together with no great disparity. For the moon, by a certain brotherly fellowship, borrows its light from the sun, and, struck back by the rays of his light, receives the splendour of its own brightness:
whence, if Christ the Lord is more rightly compared to the sun, we shall compare the moon to none other than the Church. For she, like the moon, that she may shine among the nations, borrows her light from the sun of righteousness and from the rays of Christ: that is, struck back by the preachings of the apostles, she acquires from him the splendour of immortality. For the Church shines not with her own light but with the Saviour's; and she radiates not with her own brightness but with the Father's, as the Apostle says: I live, yet now not I, but Christ lives in me (Galatians 2); and again: That he might be the firstborn among many brethren (Romans 8). Rightly indeed is the Church compared to the moon: for she too pours over us the dew of the laver, and quickens the earth of our body with the dew of baptism. Rightly is the Church compared to the moon:
because she too acquires increase and suffers loss. For she is often diminished, frequently increased: she is diminished by persecutions, enlarged by preachings. She decreases when she is lessened in her children; she grows when she is crowned with martyrs; and the very same cause which brings her loss, that same furnishes her increase. For frequently those whom she grieves over as persecutors, she receives as confessors. How often do you suppose that she, like the moon, has laboured under the incantations of magicians? How often have evil arts sought to draw her down from the kingdom of heaven? For first of all, when the magicians Jannes and Mambres resisted the signs and wonders of Moses, they desired to overthrow the Church: but the charm of the sorcerers could not harm the sacred voices.
For incantations avail nothing where the song of Christ is sung. Next, when before Sergius Paulus the proconsul Simon the Magician assailed the apostle Paul, he was surely tempting the vessel of the Church, and desiring to shake him by his sorcerous arts; but he was convicted by such power from him that he not only blinded him with the infirmity of his art but even with the loss of his eyes, and at once took from him both his charm and his sight. For he did not deserve to have the eyes of the body, who did not have the eyes of the mind. But what shall we say of the apostle Peter? That again he laid low with the solidity of his prayers Simon, who was troubling the foundations of the Church in the city of Rome. For when that man had been so lifted up by his magic arts that he even flew through the spaces of the air:
he cast him down by his power, that he might fall so much the lower the higher he had flown. For truly Peter, being so solid a rock, crushed him by dashing him against the stone, so that he who was promising himself the kingdoms of heaven perished by the hardness of an earthly death. Here it ends.