Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? The Apostle does not say that money alone, nor riches alone, are owed by us to God, but tribulation, distress, famine, the sword, suffering, the pouring out of blood, the breathing forth of the soul, and finally death seasoned with every kind of punishment; whence let all the religious understand that they do not render enough to God, even if they have given all their possessions, because although they dispense all that is theirs, they yet owe their very selves. And therefore, as we had begun to say above, if there be any widow, let her by no means think that the mere name of widowhood suffices her for eternal salvation, but let her see what kind of widow God bids her be in the Apostle, saying:
She that is a widow indeed, and desolate, hopeth in the Lord, and continueth in prayers night and day; for she that liveth in pleasures, is dead while she is living. By one and the same precept the Apostle has set forth two forms of widowhood, the one of life, the other of death: in pleasures he has placed death. Therefore beyond doubt He will not have her be rich whom He does not suffer to be given to pleasures, because all the fruit of riches is placed in the enjoyment of pleasures; otherwise, with the enjoyment of pleasures removed, no motives for wealth remain. VII. Since therefore the Apostle has declared that there is death in the pleasures of a widow, it is plain that He wills all things to be distributed for the fruit of eternal life, who wills nothing to be reserved for the use of death. And therefore he says:
She that is a widow indeed, and desolate, hopeth in the Lord—teaching, that is, that it is too little if she be not a widow given to pleasures, not rich, unless she be cleaving to God, unless devoted to prayer, unless made desolate from all the enticements of the world, and through all these things a widow indeed. And if this be so, whosoever desires to be of life and not of death, let her by no means reckon it sufficient for herself if she has denied herself both pleasures for God's sake and riches, unless by prayer also and by labour she has so merited it as to be seen to be a widow of God: for it is beyond doubt that in whatever manner one has cleaved to Christ in this world, in that manner he shall abide in the body of Christ, according to that saying: My soul hath cleaved after Thee, but Thy right hand hath upheld me.
By which it is declared that only that soul which has cleaved to God in this world, the right hand of God will uphold in the world to come. This, then, is the rule of widowhood. For as to spouses who have professed continence and are full of the Spirit of God, who ought to doubt that they are unwilling to make their goods serve worldly heirs, seeing they have banished their own selves from the world? For how should they assign to others the things belonging to them, who deny their very selves to themselves? For, endowed with so novel a virtue and—what is greater—trampling with the austerity of an admirable continence upon bodily pleasures that were once permitted and, what is more, already known by experience, how should they not vow to God anything of their possessions, who have made God to dwell within themselves? So that, in my judgment at least, even of such a marriage it may most rightly be said:
Rejoice, thou barren that bearest not; break forth and cry, thou that travailest not; for many are the children of the desolate, more than of her that hath a husband. For she is barren who bears not, and desolate who has separated herself from all the enticements of the world, and without husband who so has a husband by no use of a husband that she seems not to have one. Who then would doubt that such spouses, both while they live, live to God in their own substance as in themselves, and when they depart from life, migrate to God with the wealth for which they have lived? For otherwise any of them, if he leaves his goods to those given over to the world and to the world itself, has vainly inscribed upon himself the name of religion: he seems always to have lived for that for which he dies. Concerning spouses, then, these things suffice. VIII.
Let us pass on to the sacred virgins, to whom the Saviour Himself has prescribed the law of devotion, namely by the example of the ten virgins, of whom He says that the number of the foolish maidens is to be given over to everlasting punishments only for this reason, that to them the work of mercy shall be lacking. By which saying He has most evidently taught how great a price He judged bountiful mercy to be, without which He said that not even integrity itself would profit the virgin. But some perhaps flatter themselves and reckon it sufficient for them if, when they have much in their possessions, they at least bestow a trifle. Nor do I deny that, if such be the reckoning, so it should be believed. Let little be given, if little given shall suffice; but I know not that little suffices—nay, I know for certain that little does not suffice.
If they know otherwise, let them know it within themselves: one thing I know, that God says the lamps of the foolish virgins were extinguished, having no oil of good works. But thou, whoever thou art, dost thou think thou hast oil in abundance? Assuredly those foolish virgins of whom I spoke thought so too: for unless they had believed they had it, they would have provided that they might have it. For since afterward, as the Lord says, they wished to borrow and sought it with all zeal and eagerness, they would beyond doubt have sought it beforehand also, had not confidence of possessing deceived them. And thou likewise, whatever virgin thou art, see that thou have it not, even though thou believe thou hast it: for thou art of the same name as they, of the same profession. Thou art a virgin, and they were virgins.
Thou presumest thyself to be wise, and they too did not think themselves foolish; thou judgest thy lamp to have light, and they assuredly lost their light by presumption of light to come. For they are indeed written to have trimmed their lamps, because they believed them to be about to give light. And what more? I even think that something of light shone in them. For since they themselves, as we read, dreaded that their lamps were about to be extinguished, they surely had something which they feared to be extinguished. Nor was the opinion of those who feared false: for indeed they were extinguished and blinded. For it profited that integrity nothing that the light of virginity appeared in her, because it failed when the substance of oil did not supply. Whence we understand that what is too little is as though it were nothing:
because it profits nothing to kindle a light straightway to be extinguished, nor does it help anything to shine forth which has its setting in its very rising, and to have the beginning of living only for this, that it may have the beginning of dying. And so a full lamp is needed, that the light may be lasting. For if in the very lamps which men use for a short time the light grows faint and fails unless oil be poured in abundantly, how great an abundance of oil dost thou need, whatever thou art, that thy lamp may shine unto eternity? To no one, therefore, is it enough for everlasting life if he think he has what he has not; for foolish presumptions are causes of perdition, not of salvation:
For if any man, says the Apostle, think himself to be something, whereas he is nothing, he deceiveth his own self. Unless perhaps to thee, whoever thou art, a measure of bounty has been revealed by God, and thou hast bounds of giving prescribed by the Holy Spirit, which thou reckonest it a sacrilege to exceed, and judgest it a kind of transgression if thou be more religious than thou art bidden to be by God. If it be so, I do not forbid thee to use the knowledge granted by the Divinity. But if this be as false as it is frivolous, what madness is it that thou shouldst not do with all thy might, by careful and fearful foresight, when thou art utterly ignorant what may be to thy salvation? VIIII. It remains to say something concerning ministers and priests, although perhaps some things are said superfluously.
For whatever has been said about all others pertains without doubt the more to those who ought to be an example to all, and whom it certainly behoves to surpass the rest in devotion as much as they surpass all in dignity. For what else is preeminence without loftiness of merits than a title of honour without a name, or what is dignity in the unworthy but an ornament in mire? And therefore all who stand eminent upon the platform of the sacred altar ought to excel as much in merit as they do in rank.
For if to men set among the common people, and to weak little women, weaker by their very sex, God has given so perfect a rule of living, how much more perfect surely does He bid those to be by whom all must be taught that they may be perfect, and whom God willed to be of so great an example in all things that He bound them to a singular norm of living by the severity not only of the new but also of the ancient law? For although the old decree gave to all a bountiful faculty of enlarging their wealth, yet it confined all the Levites and priests within a fixed limit of possessing, whom, namely, it permitted to have neither cornfield nor vineyard nor any estate at all.
From which it can be understood whether our God now wills His clerics, living under the Gospel, to leave behind them to worldly heirs those things which He would not even have those set under the law themselves possess. Hence it is that to them the Saviour Himself in the Gospel enjoins the office of perfection not, as to the rest, as voluntary, but as a command. For what do we read that He said to that lay youth? If thou wilt be perfect, sell what thou hast and give to the poor. But what to His ministers? Do not, He says, possess gold, nor silver, nor money in your purses; no wallet for the journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor a staff. See how great a difference there is in both these words of God.
To the layman He said, 'If thou wilt, sell what thou possessest'; but to His minister, 'I will not that thou possess.' But even this He deemed too little, to take from him the possession of any larger substance, unless He had also removed from the apostle the very wallet, though he was to travel a long journey, and had penalized him with the singleness of one coat. And what after that? Nor is this enough. He bids His servants moreover traverse the whole world with bare feet, and He took from soles stiff with frost their very shoes. What more can be said? He snatched the staff from the apostle's hand, and to His ministers, as they journeyed through the whole world, He left not the use of a single little rod.
And after these things it is too little for their successors—that is, for the Levites and priests, who discharge so great an administration of divine things—if they themselves only be rich, unless they also leave rich heirs behind them. Let us blush, I pray, at this faithlessness. Let it suffice us that we seem to despise God up to the very limits of our life: why do we so act as to extend our contempt of Him even beyond death?
We have spoken concerning the persons and offices of each, and all this for this reason, because, as we said above, certain who have professed religion reckoned either that they, like the rest of the worldly, ought not to owe their substance to the Lord, or at least owe less—whereas assuredly they owe the more, since the servant who knows the will of his master and does it not shall be beaten with many stripes, but he who knows not shall be beaten with few. Now religion is the knowledge of God, and through this every religious person, by this very fact that he follows religion, testifies that he knows the will of God.
The profession of religion, therefore, does not take away the debt but increases it, because the assumption of the religious name is a pledge of devotion, and through this each one owes the more in work the more he has promised in profession, according to that saying: It is better not to vow, than after a vow not to render what is promised. X. But perhaps someone says: If these things are so, then irreligion is safer than religion. By no means. For the religious man is a debtor by this, that he professes himself religious; the irreligious man, however, by this, that he has neglected religion; and through this both have, according to the diversity of their condition, their own debt.
The religious man owes whatever he has professed to have acknowledged; the irreligious man, however, owes even that which he does not deign to acknowledge, according to that which the divine word says particularly of him: He would not understand that he might do well. But nevertheless, since we seem to have burdened the religious by this matter—because we said that the profession of the name is a pledge of religion—let us remove this load; let us suppose that what I have said is not so. Let us consider not what we ought to do by profession but by reason, not by vow but by very expediency. Tell me, I pray, all ye religious, is there any man who does not do all that he does for the sake of his own salvation or at least of his own advantage? No one, I think;
for all are led, by the very mastery and impulse of nature, to the affection and desire of their own advantage. And therefore both they who serve as soldiers think it glorious for themselves, and they who trade think it useful for themselves, and they who farm think it fruitful for themselves. And what more? Even thieves themselves, and robbers, and poisoners, and assassins, and every kind of wicked way of life, each one thinks that what he does is fitting for himself—not that wicked deeds suit anyone, but that he who practises wicked things believes this to be fitting for himself which is wicked.
Therefore we too, I think, have sought after the philosophy of religion for no other cause than that we deemed it fitting for ourselves—considering, that is, both the brevity of present things and the eternity of things to come, how small the one, how great the other; considering also the Judge to come and the grievous issues of the dread judgment, the valley of perennial tears burning in the midst of the surrounding peoples, which not only to enter and endure is an inestimable and supreme evil, but even to see and to fear is part of the supreme evil;
considering also, amid these dreadful and most penal things, those illustrious and most blessed ones—namely new heavens and a new earth, a fairer aspect of all things, the eternal habitation of righteousness, a fresh building of creatures, golden houses of all the saints above the untried heavens, halls polished with intergleaming gems and precious with the splendour of immortal metals, a light there sevenfold brighter, ever radiant with crimson brightness, a blessedness rich in ineffable goods, a perennity glad with its own inhabitants, the fellowship of the patriarchs, the society of the prophets, the brotherhood of the apostles, the dignity of the martyrs, and among all the saints the likeness of angels, an abundance of heavenly riches, an overflow of immortal delights, a life shared in common with God.
These things, therefore, considering, these contemplating, we have taken refuge in the worship and office of sacred religion, and have taken it up as, in a manner, our supporter and advocate of most efficacious intercession for obtaining these good things, and have committed ourselves to its protection and patronage with an ambitious humility. XI. Wherefore, since we have both thought upon these so great things and prayed for them alike, let us now see and weigh most diligently whether there be, whether in our deeds or in our substances, wherewith we may purchase from God these so great things. But if there be not, why, I ask, does not every one of us offer for himself all that he has, since he cannot offer all that he owes? Especially since the Saviour Himself—
and our God has said that nothing is safer and more salutary for every man than to lay out his goods and substance in the exercise of mercy, and has commanded this especially both in the old and in the new law, saying that they who distribute their own goods become richer, and that mercy delivers from death. And elsewhere, of the holy man: He hath dispersed, he hath given to the poor; his righteousness remaineth for ever. In the Gospel also: Do not, He says, lay up for yourselves treasures on earth. And again: Ye cannot serve God and mammon. And again: Woe to you that are rich, who have your consolations. And to the covetous also, and those guilty of the crime of inhumanity: Go, He says, into everlasting fire, which My Father hath prepared for the devil and his angels.
What their punishment shall be for ever is easily understood, to whom a lot with the devil is assigned. Yet by these greatest torments it is not those most atrocious crimes of fornications or murders or sacrileges that are punished in them, but avarice alone and the inhumanity that renounces mercy. Whence it befits us to understand what they shall suffer whom, besides other sins, avarice also has made guilty, when they are to be afflicted with the supreme punishment who, free of all other sins, the crime of avarice alone has condemned to death. And these things, assuredly, if we believe them all to be to come, we ought beyond doubt to avoid. But if we do not avoid them, surely we do not believe. And if we do not believe, we are by no means Christians;
for neither can we call anyone a Christian who thinks that Christ is not to be believed. XII. But grant that we, being guilty, do not fear those punishments of which we spoke above: can we even hope for a reward, not deserving it? And therefore, if we do not give our wealth for the redemption of our sins, let us give it at least to purchase blessedness; if we do not give lest we be damned, let us give at least that we may be rewarded; because even if there be no past evils which the saints must needs redeem, there are nevertheless everlasting goods which they must obtain at a great price; even if there be no punishment to be feared, there is nevertheless a kingdom to be sought after; and through this, even if the saints have nothing to redeem, they have nevertheless something to buy.
Unless perhaps someone fears loss in the transaction — namely, that he may lend more than he receives back, that great sums put out at interest be repaid in trifles, that the return not repay the gift, and that, the great price of the money once handed over, the buyer's investment be imperilled, and that, should he have entrusted something great to the Lord on earth, Christ perhaps have nothing from which to pay him back in heaven. Certainly, if there be such a doubt, I counsel that nothing at all be done, for nothing whatsoever profits one who doubts. For the work is empty if the faith be not sure; he lends in vain who despairs of repayment. For Christ, as we believe, is the repayer of all our deeds.
If, therefore, you suppose Him either poor — so that He cannot repay — or faithless, so that He is unwilling, how will you be able to hope for repayment from One whom you have yourself condemned both of inability and of faithlessness? But if it is not so, and you do not doubt that He will do what He said, what folly or what error is it, that you should not give Him as much as you can, when assuredly you do not doubt that you will receive back far more than you gave? What wretchedness, finally, that you should prefer to receive nothing from these things you leave behind, when you might utterly possess the whole that you believe? But — wretched me! — I think that God is not believed. And this that I say, 'I think' — would that I thought it as a mere surmise and did not plainly recognize it!
Perhaps I might labor within myself to overcome my own opinions, and I would force my mind not to believe in doubtful things, that I might apply my mind to better things. But what are we to do? We are not overcome by doubtful matters, but constrained by evident ones. For who believes the Lord with his mind, and does not believe Him with his goods? Who yields his soul to God, and denies Him his money? Who lends his faith to the heavenly promises, and yet does not act so that he may share in those promises? And therefore, since we see men not doing these things, we are compelled to acknowledge, openly and evidently, that they do not believe. It is not permitted us to suppose that they show faith to God, when they themselves cry out that they refuse Him in deeds. In which the faithlessness of nearly all men must needs be bewailed and mourned. O wretchedness, O perversity!
Man is believed by man, yet God is not believed; hope is lent to human promises, yet denied to God. In short, all things in human affairs are carried on by the hope of things to come: this temporal life itself is nourished and sustained by nothing but hope. For we entrust grain to the earth, that we may receive back what we entrusted with interest; for this the greatest labor is spent on the vineyards, because the hope of the vintage consoles men; for this the merchants empty their treasuries on purchases, while they hope to be enriched by sales; for this seafarers entrust their life to the winds and storms, that they may gain what they hope and pray for. And why say more? Even peace among wild and barbarous nations rests upon hope and is confirmed by the pledge of faith.
Even robbers themselves and bloodthirsty men do not deny faith to one another, and they trust that each will keep what they have mutually promised. In sum, as I have said, everything among men is transacted by hopes. God alone is the one of whom men despair; and although our Lord has made the very elements and the nature of the world faithful, He alone is scarcely believed by nearly all — He who alone brought it about that all things should be believed. Chapter 13. But it might perhaps be said in this place that when men use their own possessions, this is sometimes not a matter of faithlessness but of necessity, and that the religious do not disbelieve God, but reserve what is needful for life and use;
for many holy men are sometimes hindered from the highest perfection of dispensing their wealth, whether by sex, or by age, or by the very weakness of a frailer little body. Grant that this may be allowed; yet even so, though it be allowed, it must be allowed in such a way that a sufficiency be retained according to the quality of the needs and circumstances, and that the immoderate be cut away. For 'having food and clothing,' says the Apostle, 'with these let us be content. For they that will be rich fall into temptation and the snare of the devil.' Therefore, as we see, salvation lies only in things necessary, the snare in things superfluous; in moderation is the grace of God, in riches the chain of the devil. In short, what does the Apostle add immediately? 'Which,' he says, 'drown a man in destruction and perdition.'
Therefore, if riches have destruction within themselves, let us shun opulence, lest we rush headlong into destruction. Ample and abundant wealth is said to bring perdition: ample possession must be fled, lest profound perdition ensue. And through this, whether sex or age or weakness require what is necessary, they ought to be content with what suffices, in such a way that whatever exceeds temporary use, a religious duty may consume. But if you — whoever you are, man or woman, of holy profession — if you gape after either preserving your wealth or heaping up your means, you plead your weakness to no purpose. For can the weaker sex not lead its life otherwise, unless it distend the cares of its soul with the administration of a vast patrimony?
Can a consecrated maiden, or a widow vowed to chastity, not preserve unimpaired the perseverance of holy profession, unless she brood over masses of silver and gold and know that she possesses within her conscience such great wealth as the use of the possessors does not require? Or, since to this sex and to modesty alike quiet is most necessary, does perchance any one of them deem it impossible for herself to preserve inviolate quiet amid the few services of her attendants, unless the din of a vast household beats upon her ears and the tumultuous clamor of crowds resounding all about deafens her?
For to a holy soul indeed, and one desiring true quiet, an over-great unquiet is not only something to be suffered, but even to behold it is in some manner a part of unquiet; and even if one should wish to subject these to discipline and silence, one still could not repress their unquiet together with one's own quiet: so much so that even the very correcting of another's unquiet is a disturbance of our own quiet. But these things which we have spoken concerning this sex pertain to all, and suit alike every age, sex, and infirmity. There is therefore no reason why anyone should think that riches are compatible with, or not a hindrance to, religion: these are impediments, not aids; burdens, not supports.
For by the possession and use of wealth religion is not supported but overthrown, according to that which the Lord Himself says: 'The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word of God, and it is made without fruit.' Fittingly indeed, and quite beautifully, He called riches deceitful: for they are both thought and called good, and thereby they deceive men under the name of present goods, though they are the causes of eternal evils. Chapter 14. But although these things are so, as God Himself has foretold, let us nevertheless yield to the wretchedness and languors of certain ones who think that they cannot at all lead their life without great wealth.
Grant it: you — whoever you are, man or woman, of holy name and profession — grant that you keep your riches, grant that you keep your abundance until the end of this life, provided that at least at the end you bestow them upon yourself; grant that you wish to use your goods and means in this life, provided that even dying you do not forget yourself, and remember that your substance is to be referred to the worship and honor of Him by whose gift you know you have received it. Human is the thing that is asked of us all, O rich of this world, and delightful. If it cannot be obtained from each one of you that he be willing to be poor in this age, let him at least provide for himself that he not beg in eternity. You who so flee present want, why do you not dread it for perpetuity?
Being fearful of brief things, avoid the long and unending. Why do you so greatly dread poverty in this life, why do you shudder at it? Far less is what you fear here. If you count temporary meanness grievous, of what sort, I ask, will that be which shall never cease? As if it were the affair of your own soul among yourselves and of your own wish, I plead it. If you are utterly unwilling to lack the use of your possessions, see to it that you never lack it. It is a delightful and pleasurable thing we ask of you. You who are by no means content to be without riches, see to it that you may be able to be rich forever, according to that saying: 'If therefore you are delighted with thrones and scepters, O kings of the people, love wisdom, that you may reign forever.'
Otherwise, what error or what madness is it, that any man should exist who, having passed his life amid ample wealth — which alone suffices for guilt — up to the last day, should not even in his very final departure be generously and healthfully mindful of himself, nor succor himself in that sick extremity now from his own means (especially since, with riches by themselves accusing him before the Lord, according to that 'Woe to you rich,' other kinds of sins besides are not lacking to the same lord of them, which have sprouted up as it were in the very bosom and womb of riches, as in some natural tinder), and should not, even in his last moments, do this, labor at this, earn this by the whole compass of his affairs — that he not go forth guilty, not depart guilty, not leave his body to be tormented afterward and even now his soul to be tortured?